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Not A White BoyChapter 1 free porn video
Gertrude paused anxiously outside the Band Room. She could hear the piece Mr. Aversano was playing for them, and the jazz violin was real good, much better than her. 'Better to go in and face it.' She opened the door clumsily and nearly dropped the music folder in that hand. Looking carefully at the arrangement, she saw an empty chair and stand near the drums and piano. It was on the far side, giving everyone a chance to look over the new, and only, girl. She was not really a girl anymore. That summer she had grown up two inches, and out a couple more. Her older brother had also grown, so he was still bigger, but he did not wrestle her anymore. They were both a little awkward about physical contact.
Her first day in high school was technically over, but this was her hardest class. She had no idea what to expect in a Jazz Band, besides the parts she had practiced and the tapes she had played. Somehow, the tapes just did not sound like her practicing, and she was not used to that dichotomy.
The director stopped the tape as she knelt and opened up her case. A boy (they were all boys) in the back row with a trumpet, nearest her, said, "She's an orchestra player. She can't play jazz. She doesn't have any rhythm."
She burned with humiliation, and for a moment could not speak.
A black boy on the far end of the saxophone line could not let that rest. "How would you know? You're a white boy, and everyone knows white boys ain't got rhythm."
The boy next to the first one snickered. He was white, but apparently the jibe didn't bother him.
It was the first boy's turn to color red. "She's still white."
Finally Gertrude was able to find her voice. "He's having trouble figuring out I'm not a boy." She looked at the black boy, and he grinned widely.
The entire row of saxes snickered, and the bass player next to her said, "Better leave that one alone, Steve."
"All right, settle down kids." Mr. Aversano needed to change the direction real fast. "She auditioned last summer just like you all did. Everyone here had to learn to swing, and you have to give her that same chance. Understand?"
The band mumbled a 'Yes, Sir'.
"Gertrude, the upperclassmen have all earned their place here, so you have to do your best to learn the music. Understand?"
"Yes sir." She looked at the first boy. His color had returned to normal, and he was willing to meet her eyes. "Truce?"
He held out his hand. "Truce. I'm Steve."
"Call me Gertrude."
"All right, it's time to get started this year. Gertrude, your range is low enough you could add to the rhythm section, or you could slide in with the saxes or trumpets like a violin usually does."
She thought about it. She was used to playing harmony, the bass and piano were familiar from orchestra, and besides... "I think I'd fit in better with the rhythm section, sir."
"Ooooh." The black trumpet player was laughing, and the second trumpet was grinning widely too.
They started to play, and Gertrude quickly learned that the lead trumpet was the one with the highest range, while the second trumpet, Brian, usually got the solos. This is a sharp contrast to the orchestra. Brian had no trouble with 'rhythm'. The fourth trumpet, Charlie, teased him, asking him what black girl he was dating that would have taught him rhythm.
Unlike the trumpets, the saxes usually played in unison, except for the baritone sax, which was nearby. It was really part of the rhythm section, too. The drummer gave the beat, and the bass set the rhythm, and everybody listened to them for their cues.
Swinging was difficult for a metronome user, sort of like a Viennese waltz with its delayed beat, but rarely in 3/4 time so she could not 'feel' which beat to 'swing'. Oddly enough, it was a piece with 5 beats that drove home the Swing lesson. Take 5 looks straight, but has an odd pause to the rhythm, and Gertrude was so lost trying to play with the bass that she stopped completely and read along while the band played. She was completely confused, and the whole thing bothered her a lot. Her brother had the same talent as her, but no ambition, and she was used to 'getting it' the first time she heard a song. She was seriously upset by the time Mr. A called a halt for the afternoon. She knew she had a long time before her mother could arrive to pick her up, so she didn't put her instrument away with the rest. She cradled her viola and picked at the rhythm, trying to copy what she heard and make sense of it.
"Gertrude?" She looked up at Mr. A. "I have to lock the band room."
"All right Mr. A. Just trying to figure this out."
"I know it's new to you. Try to remember it was new to all of us, at one time."
She nodded, and put her instrument away, but did not lock the case completely. Outside, several boys were laughing and talking as they met outside of the instrument room. She nodded and walked to the front doors where her mother would arrive... in about an hour.
There she took out her just her viola, sat cross-legged, and used the open case to prop up Take 5. She picked away at the music, but could not really understand how it worked. She tried tapping the beat while playing, but it was not that easy to analyze while she played.
"Gertrude? Don't you have a ride?"
She looked up and saw the black sax player. "My mother will pick me up after work, but it's a long drive from Annandale."
He saw the music she had out. "Ahh. Having trouble with Take 5?"
"I'll figure it out! It's just... different."
"Hey, I believe you. It didn't take me very long, but I have an advantage." He caught her eye. "I'm black, so I have rhythm."
"You have rhythm." She chorused with him, and they both chuckled. "What's your name?"
"I'm Gary."
"Nice to meet you. This is driving me crazy. I can get the rests, but then the notes don't make sense. When I get the notes, the rests don't add up."
"Oh yeah. My Jazz teacher told me about this. If you add an eighth rest to every rest, the timing works. But don't stretch the notes to match."
"Umm. Huh?"
"Here." Gary sat and put down his books, then pulled out a pencil. He wrote in several rests. "Now, when you add those rests, how do you fix it?"
"Take away from the notes."
"That's one way. What's another?"
"Hmm." Gertrude looked at what was written and thought about what they had played. "Well, you could sort of, shift everything."
"Hey Gary! Come on, stop playing kissy and let's go!" The boys who had been hanging around the instrument room were standing nearby.
"I'm showing her how to swing."
"Uh huh. Right. Give it up, she's hopeless." Most of the boys laughed, but one only smiled, a little, before looking directly at her.
She blushed with shame and anger.
"She's not hopeless, she just needs a hint."
"Aww, right. You're the one said rhythm can't be taught."
"I said white boys couldn't be taught. She's white, but she's not a boy, so there's hope for her."
Gertrude looked gratefully at him, and then turned back to... Steve, she pulled his name out. "Steve STILL hasn't figured out I'm not a boy. Maybe I'll see him changing in the girl's locker room some day."
It was Steve's turn to blush, and the other boys were laughing at him this time. "You coming with us? Or are you going to stay here and play kissy with a freshman?"
That pissed her off, and she did something she never would have dared otherwise. "We weren't playing kissy. This is playing kissy." She reached with both hands, turned Gary's head, and kissed him quickly on the lips.
The other boys hooted and whistled, and Gertrude could feel the heat on Gary's face, but no one could see the blush. As the whistles died off, Gertrude finally had a timely thought. "Only a nerd thinks you play kissy by holding paper and a pencil."
"Whooo!"
"Ouch!"
Steve was thoroughly red now. "I thought we had a truce?"
"You started it. If you hadn't been nasty, I would have been polite."
"I was just joking around."
"You didn't sound like it to me."
Gary was turned away from the boys, so they couldn't see how he stared at Gertrude. His lips were still warm from her touch, and he tingled all the way to his crotch. Looking at her, Gary realized he was breathing faster than normal, and he wondered if she had felt the same thrill.
It took him an effort to speak normally. "You never made a big deal when I was a freshman. Gertrude, are you going to practice this afternoon?"
She looked at him. "Of course."
"Right. I don't see Steve with an instrument. Only Brian and I. She wants to learn this music, so I was helping her. If she's willing to work to learn to swing, she deserves a chance, not a hard time."
Steve was squirming a little. He was lead trumpet, but that didn't buy him any credit. Brian had as much range, but he didn't work to extend it like Steve had. Brian and Gary were better musicians, and that was what counted in their group. "All right. I didn't mean anything by it. Now let's get out of school."
"See you tomorrow, Gertrude. Think over what we talked about; it'll come to you." Gary grabbed his stuff and all the boys waved, even Steve.
Gertrude said, "See you all tomorrow." and waved too. She looked at her music, away from the boys, but musical timing was a long way from her thoughts. Her nipples had tightened up as soon as their lips touched. Fortunately, her blouse was rather loose and no one could tell. She wondered how Gary had felt about the kiss. She had meant it as a joke, but the warmth deep inside said she wanted more. Just thinking about kissing him was getting her warm, and Gertrude realized if she didn't stop thinking about Gary, her mother would know something was up as soon as she got in the car. She took a deep breath and returned to her study of the altered music. It almost made sense, but Gary had never actually said shifting the timing was the answer. What would work?
By the time her mother drove in, Gertrude, and her body, had settled down. They got home, and she found her brother talking to his girlfriend on the phone. Just like he hadn't seen her at school. "You going to be a while?"
He nodded, listening much more to Marlene than to his sister.
"I'm going to take a bath." They had a rule about phone calls - no practicing piano or viola. Although Mark rarely practiced either one, he did like to fool around on the piano, and occasionally even picked up his fancy viola when a concert or seat challenge was coming up. A bath was a good alternative, and seeing him talk to a girl reminded her of her own unexpected encounter and her interrupted excitement.
When she started running water, her mother called out, "Dinner in about an hour, dears!"
She had had to start warning them once Mark got his computer, and again when Gertrude discovered the soothing effects of a warm bath on her clitoris and vaginal lips. She usually masturbated in the bath, for privacy, but this was the first time she had a personal fantasy before she got into the tub.
Gertrude ran the water slightly warmer than comfortable. It was hard to get in, but the hot water relaxed her, and after a few minutes she could think about her favorite subject. The music playing, one of her favorite swing tapes from the summer, was enough to cover any inadvertent noises she might make. She wet the washcloth and ran it over her face. As it came down her neck, she barely let it touch her skin. Gertrude shivered, not from cold. She looked at her lack-of-chest when the cloth caressed her breasts. Hardly more than bumps in this position, they still reacted to the light touch. Her other hand touched a nipple, then flicked it, and she clenched teeth to hold in a moan. The cloth covered one breast, while her bare hand stroked her stomach and then played in her still-spreading curly hair. Gary licked around her nipple, and she whispered to him, "Oh please, suck it." He did, and she arched her back, gritting her teeth. His other fingers captured her clit, squeezing in rhythm with his tongue. "Ah! Ah! Do it! Put it in." First one hard finger explored her slit, then a second forced its way inside, spreading her young pussy wider than ever before. A second pair of lips began sucking her other nipple. She bucked under them, the fantasy evaporating as she stared at her brother's head. Her fingers squeezed her clit, drawing out the orgasm. Mark flicked her nipple with his tongue, making her spasms return. Finally he let go, and she stopped cumming. Gertrude kept her hand over her clit, pressing lightly while fingers held her lips. The gentle massage soothed her overworked nerves. He grinned at his sister, looking very self-pleased. Mark had entered quietly while she was fantasizing. She told him, "I won't. I refuse to take a chance on you making me pregnant. Never again, bro."
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