NMCF Club Of Manhattan Part Two
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NMCF Club Of Manhattan free porn video
Aaron was only in New York but a week when he first saw her. She was elderly, but she had aged well. Her late husband's wealth had given her a power over aging available to only a few women. She was elegant but could display her disapproval quickly with only a glance or a raised eyebrow. Aaron's gaze had settled on her at a noon-time luncheon with the personnel manager of the New York Symphony. He had watched her, gently, but forcefully, reprimand the Le Cirque waiter when he failed to bring her Negroni promptly. He silently placed that experiential awareness in his little black book of mindfulness. It must be very unsettling to be on the point of such rebuke, especially for one trained to serve at such a high level.
Aaron's father had recommended that he come to New York. His father had several well-connected business acquaintances in New York and was sure that they could introduce him to helpful people in the city. In Spain, Aaron had been the principal bassoonist in the Bilbao Orkestra Sinfonika. At only thirty-two, he had been the youngest to hold that position. He loved the music of the Sinfonika, but he felt strongly that he had to move on if his career was to advance. English and Basque were his academic languages from an early age. His knowledge of English and his adoration of the New York Symphony had made his career move to American quite an easy decision.
As predicted, his father's connections placed him at lunch on that Thursday in May with a Monsieur Larousse. M. Larousse, a patron of the New York art scene, was aware that the second bassoonist for the New York Philharmonic had been recruited by Mr. Dudamel at Los Angeles. This had left Mr. Van Zweden looking about anxiously to fill the seat with a competent musician. M. Larousse had asked Aaron to a noon luncheon to meet Mr. van Zweden as a prelude to an audition.
The luncheon had gone well and as they were leaving both of his mentors recognized Mimi Cohen at a table with her many girlfriends. Her face was thin and wrinkled but boasted a broad genuine smile. Despite her obvious age, she was agile in her speech and projected the exuberance of a talk show hostess.
Aaron was quickly introduced and she seemed more than enthralled at the idea of such "a handsome young Spaniard sitting in the second bassoonist's chair". He felt her eyes lock upon his physique as she sipped her Negroni. Inhaling deeply, his chest expanded before her eyes and her smile registered her delight. After a brief, further exchange of pleasantries, she suddenly reached out and surreptitiously placed a card in his hand. In his ear, she whispered, "Call me!" He was embarrassed to be singled out like this and quickly placed the card in his pocket with only a parting smile towards her.
In the week that ensued, the audition was complete and he was thrilled when the director of finance called him to discuss his compensation package. Practice sessions began immediately, as the orchestra would soon embark on its summer "whistle-stop tour" across America. He really had an advantage now, given his four years of experience at the Sinfonika and the music came easily to him.
His salary allowed him some of life's finer pleasures, even in the confines of the city that bled money from its citizens. He had been able to secure a nice two-bedroom apartment at Three Lincoln Center on West 66th Street, just a short walk to Julliard and Avery Fisher Hall. Given the proximity to Lincoln Center, about half of the orchestra lived within a five-block radius. He even had time for his usual exercise activity which he had followed religiously since leaving primary school. His Basque muscularity was readily apparent even in a tuxedo and he was an immediate subject of conversation among the five young female violinists.
Once the tour started regular exercise required creativity to accomplish, as the schedule of the tour was insistent, placing all the musicians, staff, and equipment in a new city about every three to four days. Hotel weight equipment and long runs through the city allowed him to maintain a plateau of strength and fitness, but it offered little chance to increase his overall bulk. However, he was not concerned, for years of intense work had left him with a massive baseline bulk and an athletic level of conditioning. He slept well in any bed and had found ways to maintain his six percent body fat level even on a restaurant diet.
Occasionally he thought about the card Mimi had given him. It was nothing more than her name and telephone number. He was a little fearful of incurring her displeasure, as he had not called her. Yet, there was nothing to do about it now. What would be the point of calling form Phoenix in the last part of August, well over a thousand miles away? 'No, I will call her first thing when back in the city,' he said to himself. The tour was only two weeks from its final performance in San Diego. Then, back to New York to begin the real work of the fall and winter season.
The orchestra returned in early September and he fell back into the cycle of a lifestyle he adored. There was music all about him. He asked one of the young violinists to accompany him to the Metropolitan presentation of Aida. She was a slender woman with coal-black hair who had come to Julliard on a scholarship after winning the Eldorado Prize in Sao Paulo, Brazil. She was smart, happy in her life and she always made him smile when they met. 'Her body was small compared to his. It was her face that had captured his attention initially, high, round cheeks set upon a genetic profile that manifested her indigenous family origins. Her skin was smooth and deeply chocolate, not unlike his Basque hue.
In his moments of reverie, he imagined caressing and fondling her during a late-night goodbye. Yet she was very proper in her relationship with him, giving way to good night kiss, but never more. He clearly wanted more of her, but work was all-important now for both of them. Given their lack of seniority in the orchestra, it was incredibly important that they prioritize. So it was that they fell into a friendship that was distressingly platonic. He never discussed with her his need to touch her or his religion's censure of all such tendencies. His conflict lived deep inside of him, beneath the beauty of the music, the need for perfection and the chaos that was living in New York.
As of October, the fall concert series began in earnest. Each weekend was fully engaged with the work of musical production. Midweek was slower, however, and in one of those reflective moments over morning coffee he remembered he had never called the woman who had given him the card, now, months ago. On an impulse, he dialed her number.
"Choen residence, may I say who is calling?"
"Aaron Velequez. Ms. Choen asked me to call once I had settled in. Perhaps, if you remind her that I am the new bassoonist for the Philharmonic it might aid her memory."
"Very well then, please hold."
"Aaron! So good of you to call. I thought for sure you had forgotten all about me."
" I ... I have been terribly busy Miss and we were touring all summer," he stammered.
She laughed, "Yes, yes I know. I follow the orchestra quite closely and have been to several concerts this fall. I know all about you young man. I wanted to meet you sometime and discuss some ways you might supplement your income. I know that it can be horribly expensive living in Three Lincoln Center on a bassoonist's salary. Just a luncheon. Let me suggest that we meet at the Loeb Boathouse in Central Park. Let us say next Wednesday at noon."
"Well sure," he said without thinking, as he was taken back by her easy familiarity.
"Great. I shall see you then. I do have one request of you. I want you to wear your orchestra tuxedo to the luncheon, please. I want to get a sense of you more closely in your best dress. Can you not indulge an old lady, my dear?"
"Sure, that should not be a problem. Of the three I own, one is always at the ready."
"Lovely, see you then," and she abruptly hung up the phone.
Wednesday next was a mild bright Indian summer day, so gay that even in midtown one could tell that nature was given her love to the land perhaps one last time before the bitterness of winter came round. Aaron was in great spirits and decided to walk to the restaurant, arriving shortly before noon. A quick glance about revealed that she had been seated early at a table for two, away from the bustle of the restaurant traffic. She motioned for him to come and he did not wait for the maître d' to seat him. She extended her hand and he instinctively gave her a deferential kiss, as one might do the pope.
"I love a man who is prompt," she opened the conversation. He laughed and sat down.
"What will you have to drink, dear?"
"A Rioja, please," as he smiled at the waitress. "It is the wine of my country. Our family has a summer home in Alava where we grow Rioja and vinify a few hundred cases each year."
"Yes I am aware of your father and his many enterprises," she said somewhat mysteriously. "Monsieur Larousse explained to me that you come from a family long known in the Basque for integrity in your dealings with many different clients, including him."
So the luncheon ensued, with a natural ease of conversation, as if built upon years of familiarity and not just a brief encounter now nearly one-half year ago. He was always surprised by the fact that she seemed to know more about him than he thought she should but he dismissed any thought of intrigue and ordered the braised lamb shank which he thought would go much better with his wine than her selection of crab cake and cucumber.
As two crème brûlée were being served she said rather candidly, "I suppose you realize by now that I admire you very much."
"Well, you have been most kind to me since my arrival in New York. Honestly, I have been puzzled but at the same time pleased by your attention to me."
"All of the ladies of my club have been most impressed with you as well."
"Who are these ladies of the club and how do they know me? I am quite sure I have met no such persons since my arrival."
"We all attend the symphony on a regular basis and have had many moments to observe and enjoy your prowess as a musician. You were the topic of the "new business" portion of our last meeting," she smiled. "In fact, they have requested that you attend one of our upcoming meetings. I told them I would inquire as to your schedule. They had hoped you might grace us with a small intimate performance on the bassoon. We are certainly willing to make it worth your while. Would five thousand dollars entice you to such a gathering?"
He was stunned to think that a group of elderly women would desire such a concert. Bassoon solos were extremely rare and many have taken the position that a bassoon without an orchestra was an excruciatingly agonizing sound. It was a view that he did not share, yet he still found the request strange. 'There must be more to this than I can see,' he thought.
"Well my contract specifies that I must obtain permission from the conductor and executive director before I can play at any independent events," he said, trying to delay any answer.
"Never a worry my love, I know both of those lovely men and given my contributions to the orchestra over the years we have developed an understanding that if I prefer a small favor, I am not to be denied," she chuckled.
His cappuccino was growing cold and he knew he could not delay his answer much longer. "What if I brought along a small ensemble to play something more agreeable than a solo."
"No no my dear that will not do at all. We have all agreed that we want you and your bassoon. Nothing less, nothing more. We do have a little surprise for you that I should enlighten you about before we go any further. You see, after our concert, we have a social hour where we try to get to know the musician more intimately. We require our guest musician to unrobe to facilitate our efforts in that regard."
"Oh, I am not sure what to say. Is everyone in attendance nude as well?" he said, covering his sudden interest poorly. "So, it is like a concert at a nudist camp then?"
"No, not at all. Only you will be nude. You have options. You may perform the concert and proceed on your way once the concert is complete. If you wish to stay for the social hour we would be able to make a closer inspection of BOTH your instruments and get to know you much more intimately. It would be our delight to have you in this way. Often, there are supplemental benefits for our musicians, as well as a monetary bonus, that often induces them to solicit for a return engagement."
Rather naively he said, "I don't really understand. A solo concert only requires one bassoon."
"Well, that is a matter of some opinion, and it is precisely for that reason that all the ladies of the club do hope sincerely, that you will stay for the social hour following the concert. "
He still did not derive her meaning and he stammered, "How soon do you need my decision?"
"You may take as long as you wish. I will make preparations upon hearing from you. We meet once in the fall and again in spring."
His cappuccino was completely cold and she stirred at the table in preparation for her departure.
His last words to her were, "Let me think about it?"
"Of course, dear, if you come to play, we want your wholehearted enthusiasm and compliance. We expect that you will come ready to play at the concert and at the social hour. I should also point out that at no time will you be allowed to touch the ladies of the club, regardless of their ministrations to your body. We expect that you will be deferential to us and that you will allow us to explore any of our fantasies that might revolve around the performance of your musicology and biology. We ask that you arrive with your musical equipment and an open mind. If you have need of any specifics, please, let me know at the time of your decision. Do take care now."
She pulled him down to her face for a little kiss on his cheek and promptly strode out of the restaurant, stopping to greet several parties on her way out. He sat back down for a moment to gather himself. Then with a deep breath, he rose and walked out into the bright, warm Indian summer sun.
Walking rapidly, he retraced the steps across Central Park. His mind was full of Mimi's words and her remarkable offer. He was flattered that people who could potentially help further his career were not only aware of him but also wanted to see him in a more intimate concert setting. He had to admit that he was also angered by the confidence that she expressed in her voice when asking him for such an intimate consideration. It was as if she knew he could do nothing but acquiesce to her desire. He wanted to think that the request was one that paid homage to his ability and creativity with his musical instrument but it was that there now likely a much larger and perhaps darker agenda within her request.
Surely, he was not so puritan as to reject her solicitation outright. Yet, he wondered if she knew that he was a practicing Basque Catholic. She had, repeatedly now, demonstrated that she knew more of him than circumstances would deem she should know. If she did know, then she must be aware of the moral dilemma she had placed on his shoulders. It angered him that she would be willing to do this in such a casual manner.
It was his mother's religion that he had struggled with since his first awareness of good and evil. As a child, it was the morality of loving God, obedience, and truthfulness. The epiphany of his what his father had called a "nocturnal emission" brought his innocent pursuit of sainthood to a crashing halt. This pleasure struggled forth from the center of his physicality. He seemed to have only temporary control over it. Again and again, he would succumb to a desire to fill his body with this pleasure. The burden of his recurrent guilt at every failure left him conflicted and seeking joy in his life. It appeared that the combat of his physiology with religion might ultimately deprive him of sanity.
Time and again, he sank deep into the guilt that had been bred into his life for the first eighteen years. He could actually see the sadness on his mother's face should she ever learn of his inherent lust. The cycle of grace, lust, forbidden pleasure at his own hand, despair for his imperfection, growing guilt, confession, penance and repair of his self-concept became an endless treadmill upon which his teenage years were built.
At university, as he studied science, philosophy, literature, math, and the structure of myth in the world, he lost his fear of hell as a terrible punishment. It became clear to him that there was no hell, no afterlife, and no punishment. He came to conclude that, as there was no awareness before life, such would be the case after his life. Eternity would not pass in the damnation of fire. He was completely convinced that he would be totally oblivious to eternity. The realization of the world's basic absurdity left him no less guilty but it did leave him with no anchor in this world. His guilt, born of his mother's many years of guidance was not to be erased by any manner of philosophizing. The teachings set in infancy would not be erased by any rational thought, it seemed.
Such was the background that would have to suffice as the means of his decision regarding Mimi's offer. If he accepted anything more than to play a bassoon solo he would have to deal with his mother's image for a lifetime. If he accepted only the concert he knew it would run counter to his most basic physical desires. He felt conflicted and was angry that his birth into Catholicism was never one that he would have chosen of his own adult accord. It seemed to stifle any expression of his manhood.
'My God,' he thought, 'they are old women. Can you not hold your desire in the face of such aged flesh.' Arriving at his apartment, he decided to call right away and accept the concert but decline anything more. He called her immediately upon reaching his apartment. She answered with a simple, "Hello."
"Ms. Choen, this is Aaron. I accept your offer for the concert but I respectfully decline the nudity. I plan to play "La Campanella" by N. Paganini. It is a piece that allows an adequate demonstration of my skills on bassoon. I really require nothing more than a place to be seated in front of our audience."
Without even the briefest hesitation, she answered, "Wonderful Aaron, I shall send you the details of when and where, along with a copy of the invitation. I think a spring performance would be best at this point. We are all so looking forward to your performance. Do take care." She spoke as if the thought of nudity had never entered her mind on any level.
To be continued in Part 2 of NMCF CLUB OF MANHATTAN
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