Towne Hall Music{ale}

Then

When Melisande Hall named her baby girl, you might say she wasn’t exactly thinking straight. The pain high of an 18-hr labor, combined with the morphinic effects of the post-birth meds had slightly affected her judgment. Having read a poetic analogy comparing a city to a woman _just_ as her water broke somehow translated – understandably, given that the baby girl she’d birthed was 10 pounds huge and two feet long – to A woman is a city (regardless that it was meant the other way ’round); she decided that said baby was, if not a city (yet), at the very least a town.

And, in keeping with the naming traditions in her family, Melisande made sure the female child was named {a} after something inspiring (and taken together, pain/drugs/woman-is-a-city/childbirth-hugeness was pretty damned inspirational), and that the name chosen {b} included an ‘e’ on the end.

Thus: Towne Hall was born.

Thirty-four years ago, today. As a matter of fact.

Now

And today, Towne is celebrating the commemoration of her birth in style (‘style’ being defined as ‘she has coordinated her socks with her hat and is wearing nothing over the expanses of skin in-between’), with a video call to her long-distance lover Klaus.

Three Months Ago

When Towne first met Klaus, he’d caught her singing (softly, to herself) while picking out produce at a farm stall in Lincolnshire. He’d been captivated by the cut-edge breathy alto of her mumbling whisper-song, and had followed her from vegetable bin to vegetable bin until at last – while carefully selecting a just-the-right-size carrot – she’d looked up from her musical reverie and noticed him staring.

A somewhat awkward introduction ensued and a conversation had followed. And that was followed by a date.

Which was followed by a week full of sex and song. (It turned out that Klaus was in the final week of a brief exchange for a PhD program at the university through a sister school in Germany. It also turned out that Klaus was an audiophile, and was so turned on by the sound of Towne’s singing that he’d request – in a combination of German and broken English – that she sing to him during his refractory periods, to help him get hard again.)

Today

Towne had been thinking – not in a ‘planning’ kind of way; Towne was not a planner – nebulously, in an off-thought haze of musical possibilities, all day.

She knew how much Klaus liked her voice, and today was her birthday so of course the Happy Birthday song was totally out. But having been born so close to Christmas and having a love of caroling traditions, a few holiday hymns had floated through her mind as having potential for their upcoming video session. The Angel Gabriel, perhaps. She and Klaus had been playing with the concepts of ‘worship’ recently, which – in the context of religious musical soundtracks – amused her greatly. (He was a terrible sinner after all. And penance could be such a panty-saturatingly sexy thing.) She’d recently come across a German operatic short whose single repeated stanza translated to Kneel And Pray. “This woman may not have turned out to be a city,” she thought to herself about herself, stifling an inner eye-roll to her mother’s naming abilities, “but she makes one hell of a citadel.”

Sex and the Citadel…

Religion… Sin… Penance… Music…

Towne shook herself from her jumbled musings as Klaus’s ring came through, and the answer to the question of What to sing? came to her as soon as she saw the flash of his sinner’s smile on the other side of the video screen.

She decided then and there that he was going to cum for her tonight.

Or rather, that he was going to cum *to* her.

He was going to cum…

To her red-stripe sock-clad legs spread open-diamond style, facing his video screen.

To her shoulders-back, hips-tilted body reclined outside of his reach.

And to the licked-lip blurred-pleasure he’d witness on her face when she gave herself over to her own orgasm first.

Oh yes… Klaus – sinfully sexy man that he was – would be cumming *to* her.

To her legs, her hips, her lips…

And her voice.

Yeessss…

“Tonight,” she thought with a smirk…

Sinner Klaus is cumming to Towne.

This post is part of my Holiday Celebrations! writing project. (Click the badge above to see what it’s about, and/or to join me in my lead-up-to-Christmas post-fest.) With a nod to May More, who requested that I post more fiction. And with thanks to Focused and Filthy, who provided the photo inspiration for this week’s Masturbation Monday prompt.