Naked Cello Player: 9pm surprise

Danny wished he could hear her play. He watched the cellist in Granderson 1, Left many times, and was always taken in by her consistency and dedication. He didn't know much about the cello or what it took to play it or play it well, but there was a grace and a majesty to this woman's work.

Her posture was good, even, and balanced. The way she firmly yet delicately handled the bow in her right hand, and pressed her fingers into the instrument's neck with her left. The bow moved cleanly across the strings, the line of the bow wavering slightly from purely horizontal depending on the music she played.

He had seen her on and off for several months and knew most of her predictable routine. So it was surprising when, one night, the light in her apartment flicked on at about 8:45pm.

She had come in through the garden-level door, carrying her cello in its case. She wore her typical concert attire -- a long black skirt, black shoes, and a black shirt, buttoned to the top. She approached her practice station, which was by the inner window. Her chair was at about forty-five degrees, relative to the window, so passers-by on the sidewalk (or voyeurs from Danny's apartment) saw her left elbow closest to the window.

Tonight, she sat in her chair, but didn't pull out the cello. She mimed playing, fingering an invisible cello neck, striking an invisible bow against invisible strings. She "played" like this for a few minutes, and then collapsed her hands. As quickly as she had begun, she stood up, and disappeared into the background.

A few minutes later, she reappeared, this time, with several buttons undone on her shirt. She also had a beverage in a glass, which she rested on her window sill. She sat again, mimed playing again. At one point, her left hand arbitrarily abandoned the invisible instrument, and slid just under the top of her shirt, perhaps massaging her neck, shoulder, or upper chest. She stood again, and disappeared.

Several minutes later, she came back yet again -- this time, no longer wearing her black skirt. Instead, she had shorts on, possibly silk women's pajama shorts. They were light pink and fairly high cut. She had also removed her shoes, but still wore black socks. Once again, she sat and played the imaginary cello. She would pause, drink from her glass, and resume. This time, she was more intense about her playing. She stopped, unbuttoned two of the remaining buttons on her black shirt, and resumed. Minutes later, she stopped again, undid the rest of the buttons, and resumed. Her shirt fell open; she had a black bra underneath. As she played, she leaned her head forward, and her long black hair cascaded in front of her body, in front of the imaginary cello she pretended to play.

Cellists sit with their legs spread -- that's where the body of the instrument sits. Naked Cello Player, now wearing silk shorts and an unbuttoned shirt, sat in the proper cello position, her legs spread for the imaginary body of her cello. Danny could partially see the range of skin that spanned from the bottom of her bra to the top of her shorts -- the base of her ribs, her stomach, her belly button.

She stopped and took another drink. She got up and left, but once again, returned. Danny made a guess with himself as to whether she'd come back with less clothes once again -- and he was right. This time, her shirt was gone, as were her socks. Now barefoot, clad only in pink shorts and a black bra, she brought her actual cello to the seat with her. She didn't have her bow, but she held the instrument, fingered the strings on the neck, and mimed bowing as she had before.

She shifted the cello to her right hand, and stood up in front of her chair. With her left hand, she slid the pink shorts down her legs, and to the floor. She wore no panties underneath, and Danny could see a small patch of black hair at the base of her crotch. He had learned not to be too shocked at the behaviors of his neighbors -- but this was a garden-level apartment, meaning that anyone walking by on the sidewalk would basically be window shopping, and she stood there, almost complete undressed at 9:15pm on a Tuesday.

She sat again, held the cello, mimed the bowing, and "played" like this for nearly 20 minutes. Parts of the music were furiously fast, and her hair flailed about as she shook her head and leaned over the cello. Parts of the music were slow and romantic, and she all but made love to her instrument as she mimed playing it. Finishing a movement, she once again held the cello in her right hand, reached her left hand behind her back, and unclasped her bra. She shook her arms out of the straps, and her full, round breasts came into clear view. She deposited the bra on the floor next to her, and picked up her actual bow.

Once again, she began to play -- this time for real, cello, bow, strings, and all. Danny took note of when her body pressed into the back of the cello, when her feet on the floor went up on tiptoe and she played more intensely, this causing her leg muscles to tighten and stretch. He noticed that she began to sweat a little bit, her skin glistening slightly the more she played.

This lasted maybe 30 minutes more. It was past 10pm now. She stopped playing, and holding both the cello and the bow in her right hand, she picked up her beverage with her left, and took a sip.

With a brief look out the window (but only to street level, and not far enough across the street nor up as to see Danny), she stood. She turned her back to the window, and bent over to put down her cello and bow. As she bent, Danny admired her naked backside, saw parts of her labia, briefly, distantly, between her legs and from behind. She stood again, and walked out of sight.

Minutes later the lights were turned off, and that was the end of that particular post-concert performance.