Date: Wed, 18 Sep 2013 17:28:44 -0700 (PDT) From: Macout Mann <macoutmann@yahoo.com> Subject: IT STARTED IN A PARK 5 This story is completely fictional and any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental. The story also contains explicit sexual acts between males, so be warned! This story is also brought to you through the generosity of the many donors to nifty.org. Without their contributions this site could not exist. Please consider a gift to nifty.org today. You'll be glad you gave. Your comments and criticisms are appreciated. Please write me at macoutmann@yahoo.com. Copyright 2013 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved. IT STARTED IN A PARK by Macout Mann Chapter 5 Merritt It turned out that Christian and Vernon had much more in common than just a love of sex. Their mutual interests ranged from classical music to fly fishing. So one Saturday, while some ninety thousand Georgians crammed into Spartan Stadium to watch the Warriors—they were once called the Hoplites in honor of the ancient Spartans—battle the Auburn Tigers, Christian and Vernon headed to Atlanta for a concert by the Atlanta Symphony. Robert Shaw was to lead the orchestra in Berlioz' Symphonie Fantastique, and Itzhak Perlman was to solo in Max Bruch's first violin concerto. The Bruch was Christian's father's favorite. Their hour-plus drive to the city was easy. Most of the traffic was headed east to the football game. They checked into the Georgian Terrace. It was an old hotel, but they wanted to stay there because Clark Gable and Vivian Leigh had stayed there when Gone with the Wind premiered. They shared a comfortable fifth floor room. They visited the High Museum of Art, which is right next to Atlanta Symphony Hall, and then had a light dinner at a nearby restaurant. They arrived at the concert early. Looking through the program, Christian perused the roster of the orchestra and was surprised to see the name, "Merritt Jensen," in the first violin section. Pointing at the name, Christian told Vernon, "This guy and I used to take violin lessons from the same teacher. Used to mess around too." "Maybe we ought to try to say `hello,' after the concert," Vernon suggested. "Most of the players take off right after the lights come up," Christian ventured, "and they can escape a lot quicker than most of the audience can get out. I'll check to make sure it's the same Merritt, and if it is, I'll try to talk to him at intermission." It was the same Merritt of course. He and Christian didn't mess around nearly as much after Christian stopped taking lessons, and they drifted apart completely after high school. Merritt went into the outstanding music program at the University of Indiana and for further study to Julliard. Then he joined the Arkansas Symphony in Little Rock before moving up to the Atlanta orchestra, where he occupied the fourth chair in the first violin section. He would never become a soloist, but he well might one day become concertmaster of an important orchestra. Needless to say he never lacked male companionship, but he never became involved in a romantic relationship. The concert began with the Bruch concerto. Vernon expressed surprise, as so many people do when they see Perlman for the first time, that the soloist is a polio victim and must sit to perform. Yet the entire audience was entranced by his playing and at the fiery finish of the third movement were brought to their feet with whistles and shouts of "bravo." Toward the end of the intermission that followed Christian wandered down to the stage and attracted the attention of one of the early-returning violinists. "Could you ask Merritt Jensen to come out please?" he asked. Merritt arrived with a quizzical and annoyed expression on his face which brightened to a broad grin when he recognized Christian. He squatted on the apron and reached for Christian's hand. "Goddam!" he exclaimed, "Who'd have thunk it? What the hell are you doing in Atlanta?" "I'm on the faculty over at Sparta," Christian answered. "A buddy and I came down for the concert and whose name should I see in the roster but yours. You free afterwards?" "Sure. Can you meet me at the stage door?" "We'll be there." The stage was rapidly filling with players and Christian barely had time to return to his seat before the houselights were dimmed and Robert Shaw returned to the stage. "He'll meet us after the concert," Christian whispered to Vernon. Symphonie Fantastique is one of the most inventive pieces in the repertoire, and it was beautifully played; but for Christian the forty-five minutes it takes crawled by. He was totally psyched and couldn't wait to meet Merritt. The enthusiastic audience recalled conductor Shaw to the stage five times, before the houselights were raised and the audience poured from the theatre. Twenty minutes later Merritt in white tie and tails and two guys in blue pin stripes arrived at the Georgian Terrace bar, one of the few places in town that such a threesome wouldn't have been thought weird. They found a corner table and ordered. After their drinks had been brought Merritt exclaimed to Christian under his breath, "Sonofabitch, you're as sexy as you were when we were taking lessons together." "You look pretty hot yourself," Christian retorted. "Yall keep your dicks in your pants," Vernon cautioned. "We don't wanna spend the night in the queer tank." Vernon and Merritt had instantly bonded when first introduced. It was going to be a pleasant night for all. The conversation flowed at break pace. Christian and Merritt caught up on the ten years they had been apart. Vernon filled Merritt in on his life before he met Christian. "I was more or less a loner at Ole Miss," Vernon explained. "The frat scene didn't do anything for me. Made friends with a couple of the gymnasts, but since I didn't compete I was sort of the odd man out. "My folks had given me a car, so I spent a lot of time going back and forth to Memphis. Saw a lots of Broadway shows at the Orpheum—that's a great old theatre—and spent a lota time over at the Pink Palace Museum and at the Brooks Museum and the Zoo. They're both in Overton Park, where my dick liked to look for playmates." "So," Christian asked Merritt, "speaking of playmates, how was your sex life after we didn't get together any more?" "Fuck, man. In any college in the country, if you can't get laid, you're from nowhere. I was worried when I went to Arkansas. But the fucking assistant concertmaster was super gay. He kept me and the principal oboe and the tuba all satisfied. They're the ones I know of anyway." They all laughed. "You need to come back," Merritt said, "especially next March. We're doing Verdi's Requiem. It'll be awesome. Shaw was originally a choral conductor you know." "I remember Dad telling me about hearing the Robert Shaw Chorale," Christian chimed in. "But he'd probably already become conductor of the Atlanta Symphony when I was born." They all laughed again. Then they went up to Christian and Vernon's room. Christian participated in his first three way. The first time he'd had two dicks in hand, one of which wasn't his own. The first time he'd been in a sandwich. The thrill of seeing Vernon spit roasted, his own dick stuffed in his friend's mouth while Merritt's dick pounded his ass. God, that was sexy! It was after two when Merritt, his formal dress somewhat rumpled and his white tie still untied, came down on the Georgian Terrace elevator and crossed the lobby. "Good night, sir!" the desk clerk cheerily exclaimed.