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Damn, it was happening again! Something about the bizarre actions of the girl and man on-stage made his nerves tingle with the same excitement he had felt when Valerie first appeared on stage. It was almost as if he could feel her sensuous hands running up and down his inner thighs, and his cock throbbed in the direction of the stage. He tried to close his mind to the realization of his excitement, but he couldn’t turn off the gnawing sensations that seemed to grow with each passing moment. In spite of the terrible shame he felt for having become excited by some goddamned sadistic, he couldn’t help but inch his fingers down toward the growing bulge in his pants. He wriggled so that his chair was directly under his semi-circle single table, nervously watching to see if the Texan or his girl friend next to him was watching. Just a little finger-tip stroke wouldn’t hurt anything, and he’d stop if it got out of control. Damn, but it felt good. Although the man on stage was. Listen to me, dear. You have seen this opera now several times. I want you to close your eyes and listen to the music. Imagine yourself as the words and the music, as part of the story, but don’t open your eyes. I know you would rather watch, but not this time. He kissed her neck again and, for a moment, she was back in her bedroom this afternoon and the memories excited her again and began to move her body. She closed her eyes. The music was in a building mode. It was leaving melodic and heading for frenzied. As she listened, she could feel the tympani in her breasts when it boomed and the woodwinds seemed a breeze across her face. She felt his hands on the back of her calves and knew from where they were that he had to be facing her chair. He pulled on them and she slid forward, resting her head on the back of her chair. She kept her eyes closed. The music was building. He laid his hands on her knees and again she noticed their warmth. His gentle touch has always made her feel.
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