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It’s a gloriously sunny, lazy Sunday morning, and light is pouring through the windows, warming the room. I finish clearing our dishes, looking over to where the sun casts a springtime glow on the soft wood of the table where Stanley is reading the paper, absentmindedly sipping his cappuccino. He looks so handsome, his brow furrowed as he reads, and I smile, a small shiver of anticipation running through me. I have a plan for Stanley this morning, although he is not aware of it yet.
He’s been up for a while, longer than me by some time, his usual morning run already under his belt, and now he’s casually dressed in a white shirt, half open to expose his chest, and jeans. The sun behind him makes him look angelic, but I know better, and I intend to rouse the devil in him so that I can enjoy his dark side. I revelled in a little extra time in bed this morning and still have my pyjamas on. I don’t like to rush around at the weekends; it’s a time for slow, sensual living and, hopefully today, some delicious fucking. The bed had still been warm and cosy when Stanley had got up for his run earlier, and I had snuggled further under the covers, not wanting to expose my flesh to the slight chill of the spring breeze where we had left the window open overnight. I breathed in deeply as I wrapped the duvet around me and I could smell his aftershave on the pillows and on my skin where we had been entwined only a short time ago. I had let my fingers slowly wander over my body, imagining it was him, and I had closed my eyes, teasing myself, pinching my nipples, letting my fingers drift between my legs, imagining what I wanted to do to him later. I had been breathless and tingling all over by the time he had returned for a quick shower.
Now, we’ve had breakfast, sticky, flaky pastries and orange juice, and he is engrossed in either the politics or the sport section of the Sunday papers, so I need to entertain myself and distract him so that he finishes quickly. I’m hungry for him, a deep-seated lust making me almost drowsy in the sunshine. I wander over to the piano that sits in the space between the kitchen and the breakfast room, aware of every move of my body, and settle onto the stool, running my fingertips over the dark wood, wriggling on the hard seat as I imagine being bent over it and spanked. Stanley loves to pull my panties down, baring my behind so that he can pink my flesh. But today I’m feeling sultry, I want intensity, lust, a duet where both of us play our parts.
The piano has always been a passion of mine, and Stanley loves to hear me play. Since we first met, he has told me that he loves to watch the ecstasy on my face as I let myself be moved by the music. He says it is like watching me fuck, caught on a wave as the music moves from pianissimo to crescendo and back.
I look over at him, but he’s engrossed in an article, so I start to pick out the first few notes of Fur Elise, pressing the cool, golden pedals with my bare feet and shivering at the sensation of them against my naked flesh. I play slowly, letting the notes break the silence of the morning until I become acutely aware that Stanley has stopped reading and is now watching me. I don’t turn to look, pretending that I am oblivious to him, but I imagine him removing his glasses and chewing the end in that endearing way he has. Then, at last, I hear the rustle of the newspaper as he closes it and the scrape of the chair as he stands. My senses are heightened, and my nipples harden under the flimsy material of my top, in anticipation of his touch.
Stanley wanders over, resting on the side of the piano to watch me so close that I can smell the fresh scent of his shower gel. He leans over and tries to join in with my fingers, which makes me giggle. He’s been learning to play too, joining me occasionally when I practice and he smiles as he tries to follow my lead with the notes, missing some, the awkward angle making it impossible to duet. He gives up and instead pulls over a chair from the breakfast table, leaning in close to me as he sits down, and we play together slowly so that he can keep time. His proximity has me shaking, and I fumble the notes, making him smile. Then he changes the tune halfway through, and I laugh as we lean closer to each other. He tries to play again, but I turn to kiss him.
“Wait, wait,” he says, “I’ve been practising this one; let me show you.”
With a grin, he turns away and plays a few bars of his new piece and I nod, smiling playfully at him. Fuck, I’m so turned on; I squeeze my thighs, squirming on the stool to try and get some pressure on my clit.
“Very good!” I say, and he smiles proudly. I love how he takes such an interest in my passion and that he wants to be a part of it, but right now I’m completely distracted as I watch his hands. I want them on me, not on the keys of the piano. I close my eyes and imagine his fingers dancing over my skin the way they are trailing over the notes. He plays a little more; he has been practising and it sounds good, but I’m so turned on that I can’t help myself anymore. I straddle his lap, pull him tightly to me and kiss him deeply. He kisses me back, his arms around me but he pretends not to notice how much I want him and tries to play behind me. I pull back, smiling, watching as his eyes dance with mine. He is loving the tease, toying with me. I shake my head at him and kiss him again, but he keeps playing, his arms on either side of me.
I rub my body up against him, my nipples brushing his chest through my pyjamas, and I can feel him hard, pressed up against the buttons of his soft jeans. I grab one hand and wrap his arm around me, grinding into his lap, my pussy aching with the need for him. The bulge in his jeans is perfectly placed to graze my clit, and I grind it against him, my desperation on full show, leaving him in no confusion about what I want. Still, he plays some more, and while it is adorable, I want him to focus on me. I kiss him harder, deeper, pulling both arms around me and at last, he grabs my bum, the teasing over, and he thrusts up against me, his urgency finally matching mine.
I have been thinking about this since he went for his run. I thought about wrapping my arms around his wet body as he soaped himself in the shower, and when I watched him lick his fingers as he ate his croissant, I imagined it was my pussy. Now I am almost delirious with lust and I’m done with waiting. He can see how much I want him, and our eyes lock as his hands roam over my back and my bum. I pull at the buttons on his shirt, needing the sensation of his skin against me.
He takes control, pushing me back, the notes crashing as my elbows meet them and he holds my face, gently gazing at me, then his lips take mine as he explores my body with his hands. I moan as he nibbles at my neck and my chest, almost reaching my breasts. He is teasing and he smiles up at me, reaching around to play again, making us both laugh momentarily until he lifts my lips to his. Leaning me against the dark wood, we kiss, and then, in one smooth movement, he picks me up and places me onto the cool black and white surface of the keys. I’m not sure it’s sweet music that we’re playing but I don’t care, my only thought is the warmth of his body against mine and his tongue teasing my lips.
I caress his smooth chest beneath his open shirt, moving lower to run my fingers through the tuft of hair that grows from his belly button down, disappearing into his jeans—a direct route to his cock. I start to undo my pyjama buttons too with an urgency, wanting his skin against mine, but he pushes my hands away and takes over. I watch him as he does, but he wants my mouth, his finger under my chin ensuring that my lips are for him as he exposes my breasts. My fingers trail along the keys, a melodic background to his tender touch as he circles my soft flesh, the warmth of his hands stoking the fire between my legs.
I love the intensity with which he kisses me. The way he looks into my eyes as if the entire world has stopped turning, and it is just him and I. I run my fingers through his hair, leaving it in soft tufts, as dishevelled as he makes me feel. I want his lips all over me, want his hot breath between my breasts, between my legs. I stroke him through his jeans, clutching at his hard cock, dizzy with the knowledge of how much he wants me to.
At last, he lowers his head and lets his tongue circle my nipple, capturing my peaks in his mouth as he gazes up at me. I stroke his hair as he kisses lower, kneeling on the floor between my legs, nuzzling against my thighs. He teases again, coming back to my lips, removing my pyjama top to leave my breasts completely exposed. He kisses my soft belly, pushing the chair out of his way as he kisses lower and lower, and finally, his warm mouth is nibbling me through my shorts. God, it’s so good, his breath heating the molten lust between my legs further. I want to grind my cunt into him, feel his tongue, his fingers; fuck, I want to come so badly.
I raise my hips, and he drags off my shorts. Now, only my tiny thong separates my naked body from the cold keys and his warm lips, and it is so sexy. I kiss him again, wanting the connection to him, and then he pushes my panties to the side and licks me, over and over, his tongue lapping at my pussy, toying with my clit. I spread my legs wide for him, one on the stool, the other on the discarded chair and he sits on the floor, working my clit while his finger slides inside me, building a rhythm as if he were playing my cunt like he played the piano a few moments earlier. But now the keys are silent, the only sounds are his hungry growls as he eats me, and my gasps as he finds the perfect spot, exactly as he always does. The sunlight warms my body; I revel in how exposed I am, how deliciously horny it makes me, and I grab the back of his head, pulling him harder onto my clit as my orgasm builds. My fingers are tangled in his soft hair, desperate for the pressure of his mouth on me, riding his tongue as he continues without any mercy until, oh fuck, there it is, and I let go, my pussy pulsing around his finger. He carries on licking, lapping up the juices but I want more.
I push him down onto the chair and straddle him. I need his cock, need the warm hardness of him, and I scrabble at his jeans, popping the buttons open one by one until he is released in all his glory. I wrap my fist around him, my lips not leaving his as I work my hand up and down his thick shaft.
He sits back, admiring the view as I wank him, his fingers brushing lightly over my nipples, bending his head to kiss and suck them again. I continue to work him with my fist, mindful not to let it go too far because I need him inside me again. One orgasm is not enough today, I want to cum on his dick, with him buried deep inside me.
Pulling my thong to the side, I slowly lower myself onto him, watching his face, the way his mouth drops open slightly as he pushes into my soaking pussy. It’s already sensitive from my previous orgasm and the solid length of his cock sends pulses of pleasure through me as he fills me. I throw my head back, pushing my fingers into his hair, and then I’m riding him. He grips my waist, and using the back of the chair to hold onto, I rock my body against him, fucking him hard and fast. He watches me intently as I impale myself, rubbing my clit against the base of his cock, and he lets me take my pleasure, enjoying my urgent fucking, sitting back, letting me use his cock to ride another intense wave of pleasure. I know that he loves to see me cum, and he squeezes my arse as I do, biting his lip as I catch my breath with the intensity of it.
My pussy is still tingling and I gaze down at him as we kiss again, my heart full of love and lust, then I clamber off, wanting to give him some attention. He sits back in the chair, watching me as I run my hands over my breasts, biting my lip as I look at him. He grins, and I slowly kneel in front of him, not breaking eye contact. The fire in his gaze is addictive, he knows what I am up to and with a twitch his cock lets me know that he is desperate for it.
I don’t make him wait, I can smell the scent of his desire mixed with my own as I open my mouth and run my tongue from the base to the tip. He’s slick from my juices and I can taste myself on him, loving his reaction, his eyes close as I envelop his cock in my hot, wet mouth. I am sure he must be close but I don’t want him to cum quite yet, as much as I love to bring him to his knees with my tongue, my pussy still craves him. So, I tease him, letting him go deep, then pulling back and licking him like my favourite ice lolly.
He takes a breath, focusing on holding back, lifts me to my feet, turns me around, and pulls me down onto his cock so that I am impaled from behind. It’s sudden and intense; he doesn’t hold back, and I’m filled completely. I cry out as he grasps my breasts, using his thighs for leverage as I move over him, my over-sensitive pussy already close to a third orgasm. I want him to cum too, so I bend forward, giving him a perfect view of my arse, letting him watch his cock disappearing into my cunt. A clatter of notes briefly interrupts the pants and moans of our lovemaking as I steady myself against his quick thrusts, my eyelids fluttering as I bite my lip.
Fuck, it’s so hot, me naked, him with his jeans around his waist, the sunshine dappling us with light as we fuck in the kitchen, not caring if anyone should see us through the window. He pulls me back against him, hands roaming over my body, pinching my nipples, stroking my clit as his dick strokes my g spot. The exhibitionist in me imagines the postman walking down the driveway to deliver a parcel, catching a glimpse of what we are doing and my pussy floods again. He gets me so wet, juices dribbling over my inner thighs. It’s as though I lose control of myself. I give in to his touch, my legs spread wider to give him more access and imagine we are performing our duet on stage in front of a huge audience, turning them on with more than our music. The vision in my head and the thrusts of Stanley inside me leave me teetering on the edge of oblivion. His fingers play my clit as expertly as he touches the keys, and with a guttural moan, it is as if I am floating, my pussy clamped around his dick, pulling him deeper into me, wringing out every drop of my release. The kitchen is gone, and I am held up, exposed, my body given over to the waves of pleasure that wash over me. He doesn’t stop, wringing out every last drop of lust until I gasp, melting against him, the notes crashing around us as I try to steady myself. I giggle as he drops kisses onto my neck, our bodies slick with sweat from the intensity of our passion.
The last clutches of my orgasm make my pussy ripple around his cock, squeezing him, urging him towards his release and I love the way it makes him moan. He is desperate to finish, bending me over, and my palms hit any notes, neither of us caring about the noise as he grips my waist, fucking me hard from behind, pulling my hair to bring my lips to his as he takes me and sending shivers through my body. He pauses briefly, taking a breath as though he wants to hold off, not wanting it to end, but the only thing either of us can focus on is his dick inside me, the slip and rub of him against my soaking walls and how much he needs to cum. My man knows exactly how to fuck me, how to make me come undone, but now he’s desperate to fill me, and I know that he can’t hold back. I love to see him lose control, and I know that dirty talk will tip him over.
“Yes…. baby, harder… oh God, more,” I manage to gasp as he leans me a little further forward, adjusting the angle so that he is deeper inside me, then with one arm around my waist he thrusts hard and oh fuck, I don’t think I can take any more of this feeling in my body. I am weak with lust for him, my legs barely holding me up, my thighs shaking. I’m a ragdoll in his arms, impaled on him, my cunt full of him. My nipples tingle, my pussy is pulsing, and my clit aches where he is stroking it, and then I am lost again, my mouth dry with panting, my whole body merely a mess of sensations. Half delirious with desire, I need him to cum now, and I grip the piano to hold myself steady as he takes me roughly, hard and fast, until at last he stiffens and growls, his whole body shuddering as he fills me.
I can’t move; I can barely breathe, panting, my legs still shaking as I lean my forehead against the piano, and he pulls out, his cum sliding out of me, painting the floor with our lust. Stanley holds me, kissing me as we come back to the moment, completely spent.
As he catches his breath, I grab his hand and use his finger to play Fur Elise again. He smiles, laughing softly as he spins me around and pulls me to him our bodies pressed together, our mouths moulded to each other. Then, giggling, we head to the bedroom, the warm bed, a lusty story and nap beckoning before we come back for our encore, still hours left in the day to repeat our incredible first performance on the piano.
The End
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THE PIANO