Weight - A Fingering Falsetto (Octavia)

>You and Brad have been at this for Months now.
>Gone through nearly EVERYONE in the school just to prove your superiority, and avoiding the horrible fate with the special ed girl.
>She's really sweet, but your friends have told you dreaded stories about her that makes you shudder each time you hear her name.
>The battle between you two has become so popular at this point, that the original moneymakers that got you all of your points when you had just started out, became judges.
>No matter where you conceal yourself with your new catch, they always seem to find you and judge the both of you.
>It seems no matter how hard you try, It seems Brad isn't much further behind you in the fingerbanging contest.
>Those who are fortuned to cross your golden fingers are met with an experience worth composing their entire autobiography around.
>Applejack still asks on occasion to have you personally fulfill her needs. It's not very often, but everyone cracks at one point or another.
>Anyway, you need a hook to really kick Brad's ass and win the contest.
>Then, like it was some god-given gift, she walks in, perfectly cued with your thoughts if you were some scriptwriter.
>Octavia, the best of the best on the Canterlot High symphony.
>First chair, and her body has got better curves than the cello she's mastered.
>She refuses to even acknowledge Brad when he tries to talk to her.
>Striding past you with her music theory books in hand, She sits down at her desk, occasionally scrawling in a pocket notebook.
>You stare on silently, watching her as she taps her pen to her chin, seeming to fight herself as she shakes her head andn then contemplates some more.
>Occasionally tapping on her desk, you can piece together a small bit of the gorgeous composition.
>Standing up, you attempt to make some basic conversation. You're pretty much a minor part of band, but you still know your way around some note sheets.
>Strolling over, you take a pencil and make light marks here and there on her papers.
"I don't mean to be rude, but if you add legato into this section, and stacatto the end a bit more, you'd get a more expressive piece."
>She looks at you in amazement.
"Of course, why didn't I think of that? And better question, who are you and how did you come up with something like this?"
"Oh, I'm in symphony too, but I'm nowhere near 1st chair."
"I find that hard to believe with someone of your talents. I mean, you corrected ME? Not only did you have the guts to approach me, you ACTUALLY improved my piece. I'm impressed.
>Octavia nods towards you, crossing her arms.
"Perhaps later today you'd like to compare compositions and notes?"
>You shrug, explaining that you really don't write music in your free time.
"Well that's alright, I can always teach you."
>This is working out WAY better than you would have ever expected.
>Walking back to your desk and taking a seat, you can't help but freak out in your mind.
>Finally, you'd get to win the contest and make that shithead eat his own words, literally.
>Class ends, and You stand up and wait for Octavia to meet you at your seat.
>She greets you again with a grin, and you both set out to the next period together.
>Sure enough, next period is Symphony.
>Octavia looks to you when the both of you arrive, and she pulls out her cello from a nearby luxurious case.
>In an instant, she begins to play, eyes closed as she occasionally opens an eye to stare at you with a smile.
>You pull out your sax in your busted up case, and begin to play alongside her.
>Slowly, you transition your play into a more jazz type song, and Octavia swiftly follows suit.
>As she played, she even tuned her cello to fit the song style better, and the words of her cello seeped into your mind, of somber and melancholy.
>The teacher walks in to you and Octavia playing up a storm, and she suggests that you and Tavia head into the auditorium to practice your newly-founded duet.
"Oh, excuse me, but I never caught your name."
"You can call me Anon. That's what everyone calls me."
>She nods, thinking as you play through the hallway.
>She occasionally strums with her fingers, but she hefts the cello with her awkward positioning of the heavy object.
>As the both of you play in the hallway, teachers come out of the woodwork to tell you that you're disrupting their class.
>A quick, cold glare from Octavia immeadiately silences the teachers and sends them back to their classes, as if they were flies to her.
"Holy shit, Octavia. You can just wave off teachers like that?"
"Of course, I can. My name carries as much weight around here as the principals' do."
>Finally, the two of you arrive into the Auditorium.
>It's very small, meant for extremely private concerts only.
>There's only about 20 seats total, and the shape of the auditorium allows for perfect resonance no matter where you sit.
>Everywhere but the main stage is nearly pitch black.
>The two of you make your way up the stairs, and you both grab a seat.
>She breathes a sigh of relief, hefting down the cello onto the floor.
>A while later, you pause, pulling away from your saxophone.
"Why'd you stop, Anon? I was having such a wonderful time."
"I just had a strike of inspiration. Do you mind if I play solo for a moment?"
>Octavia places her cello down immeadiately, giddy for your performance.
"Not at all, be my guest!"
>You clear your throat, checking to ensure your sax is perfect for the impromptu performance.
>Staring into her gleaming eyes, you feel awful. Someone as beautiful, smart, and professional as this, and you're using her as a part of some stupid game for bragging rights.
>Don't get yourself wrong, she's got an ass that you can see shake from down the hall.
>Coughing for one final time, you place your lips to the receiver and then spread out heart out on a music sheet.
>Octavia gazes on, with her chin in her palms.
>After what seems like hours of searching through every crevice of your soul and mind, with your sax translating your feelings into sounds of passion, you slowly begin to fade away your song, coming to a halt.
>Octavia sniffles, wiping an eye.
"Anon, that was some of the most beautiful saxophone play I've ever heard. How are you not 1st chair in woodwinds?"
"Well, it's an early morning class and I'm usually half asleep, so I can never showcase my true potential."
"I'll be sure to put in a good word for you. Now, since the teacher wants us to perform a duet, do you mind teaching me the ropes of your instrument so I may better comprehend the synchronization of our tools?"
"Not at all."
>You stand, strolling behind her and holding the instrument in front of her.
>Taking her silk hands, you show her the placements of each note and how to properly blow into it.
>You take a spare receiver out of your case, and attach it to your sax so she doesn't have to deal with your spittle all over it.
"Go ahead, try it."
>Like she's used this instrument before, she plays an A flat, but for some reason, it's muted.
>Octavia's face turns beet red.
"Wh-what?"
>You examine the saxophone and it's placement, and notice it's very tightly pressed into her body.
>Nodding, you attempt to grab the lower half of the sax to pull it out and away from her figure, which is probably what's muting the sound.
>Your eyes widen like plates, finding your grasp only touching Octavia's waistline.
>She gasps, turning to stare at you, before her opened mouth curves into a wicked smile.
"Anon, you sly dog, you."
>She gives you a playful smack on the face.
>You hold your hands up like you're about to be arrested.
"I didn't say you should stop, did I, Anon? You're so, musically inclined."
>She shivers from excitement, then turns the chair around towards you.
>You spread her legs and pull up her skirt, finding a very tightly groomed and pristine pussy.
>You suppose this IS Octavia, after all. It looks like she hasn't ever even touched it.
"Is something wrong, Anon?"
"No, no, not at all. I was just really excited to see that you're so tight. It really gives me a confirmation that you won't just sleep with ANYBODY, is all."
>You connect your finger with her clit, and she ekes out a little 'Eep!'.
>Tracing around her flower, you can hear the soft moans and coos leaving her mouth.
>Looking over, you can see 3 silhouetted figures standing near the dim entrances.
>One leaves, being sure to exit as silently as they entered.
>You turn back to not draw attention, and you give Octavia's delicate button a swift lick.
>She instantly responds by lunging her hips forward, driving more of your tongue onto her.
>You manage to pull your head away, looking up to find her with a sheepish grin.
>Chuckling, you rest a finger on her slit again.
>There's already a puddle between her legs, and your hand and her inner thighs are caked with her juices.
>A second finger rises, and you slowly penetrate her.
>Her head immediately reels back, and her silent whispers turn into resonating and deep moans.
>You slowly begin to go in and out of her, careful not to be too rough for what's probably her first time.
>She seems to fight you about it, but whenever you try to pull your hand away all she does is beckon you back in.
>Picking her up and laying her down on stage, you expose her parts to the two left in the crowd.
>The third re-enters, with a fourth silhouette joining it.
>You kneel down, holding her body still between your legs, and using your back to cover the silhouettes.
>Going back to where you started, your fingers re-enter the tight,wanting orifice.
>Octavia squirms and thrashes under you, slamming her hands on the stage for something to grip.
"Anon, I think i'm going to cum soon!"
>You nod, continuing on your onslaught on her soaked pussy.
>One of the silhouettes steps forward, with her curled, messy pink hair.
>Another spiked-hair silhouette appears, with a face of worry and disbelief.
>Octavia's body trembles, clenching herself on your fingers and opening her legs.
>You pull your fingers out, only to be retorted with Octavia's juices squirt into the invisible crowd.
>The spiked silhouette reveals himself, with a dropped jaw. Octavia's cum pelts him in the face, before he shakes himself off and silently leaves.
"Wow, Anon. That was INCREDIBLE."
>The cotton candy haired silhouette seeps back into the darkness, as you hop off of Octavia and lie beside her, pulling down her skirt.
"Now if you don't mind, I think it's only fair that I show you an instrument I know how to play."
"Sorry Octavia, but not right now. The teacher will be suspicious if we spent that much time in here, we should head back to class."
>You clean up the stage a bit, and then you both pack up your instruments and head out together.
>Octavia leans on you as you both walk out of the auditorium, with a massive drunken smile plastered on her face.
>Wrapping an arm around her hip, you hum the tune you had previously created and played.
>She joins with a soft hum herself, nodding her head in perfect timing.
"So Anon, what made you come up with something so perfect on the fly like that?"
"There's plenty of things that could have brought me to that moment. My upbringing, my teachers, the beauty of life itself, or even my friends."
"Come on, Anon. Quit beating around the bush and tell me, already."
"Well, it was you."
-end-