I had been watching him all night. He possessed a natural grace and an almost angelic face. It wasn’t that he was effeminate. In fact, he was damn sexy in an unconventional, organic way. His long sandy-colored hair fluttered about his shoulders as he played the piano. His hands on the keys were making my mouth water. They were large but delicate. All I could think about was how incredibly soft they would feel on my naked skin. When my date asked me what I was thinking about, I realized that I had drifted off into a fantasy that did not include him.
“Nothing. Just listening.” It seemed to be enough to assure him that he should continue with his sleep-inducing story. My gaze returned to the sumptuous piano player that I could see just past his right shoulder. I was surprised when his head turned slightly away from the keys, and his eyes seemed to lock with mine for a moment. Was he looking at me, or did I imagine it? Either way, his crystal blue eyes glimmered in the lights that surrounded the stage. I found myself imagining them looking down at my petite frame as he leaned in for a kiss.
My thoughts, and the one-sided conversation, were disrupted by the sound of a cell phone. My boyfriend, a detective, reached for it, barking his last name into the receiver. He had to go and offered to take me home on his way, apologizing for cutting our evening short. I declined, grateful for the silence so I could listen to the music, among other things.
When the small ensemble broke a little while later, I watched the piano player step from behind his instrument. He was long and lean, sinewy in a sensual way that I found even more intriguing. I was surprised when he made his way over to my table and sat down across from me, drinking me in silently.
“Where did your date go?” he asked as if we were old friends.
“He had to go to work.”
“Shameful for a man to leave an exquisite creature like you alone like this.”
I wasn’t sure if it was a line or heartfelt, but admittedly, I didn’t care. There was something about this guy that made me want to not even know his name. I just wanted to throw him across the table between us and ride him into submission.
“Are you here to rescue me from my loneliness?” I said with a smirk.
“No, I figure you can handle that by yourself. I’m here because you have been ignoring your date all night and ogling me while I played piano. I thought that perhaps you were enjoying the way I use my hands on the keys.”
It was direct, unexpected. His words had precisely the effect he intended. I sat looking at him for a minute, deciding how far I was willing to take this. Throwing caution to the wind, I invited him back to my place to play.
“You have a piano at home?”
“Who was talking about a piano?”
We left my date’s money on the table and departed. My place was only a short cab ride away, but we had already given the cab driver quite a show by the time we arrived. Slinking out of the vehicle, looking disheveled, my lipstick smeared, and my hair tousled from the heated kissing and fondling on the ride there, we made our way quickly up to my apartment.
I wasn’t wrong about his hands as he took his time undressing me, caressing every inch of my skin with his perfectly manicured digits. Everywhere he touched me felt hot, scorching my skin and making me moister by the second. When I finally couldn’t take any more of his incessant teasing, I turned the tables, flipping him over and straddling his enormous hard-on. I wasted no time sliding down the length of it, locking myself in place atop him for a moment before rhythmically riding him to ecstasy. I was making my kind of music.
His hands held fast to my waist as I milked him for all he had to offer. It felt amazing to allow my instincts to take over. I was covered in sweat as I exploded multiple times and then collapsed against his perfectly chiseled chest, allowing him to roll his hips deliciously into mine as he enjoyed his orgasm. Afterward, we lay in the dark of my apartment, content in one another’s arms. Morning light poured into the windows, highlighting the fact that he had slipped out before daylight. I smiled as I spotted a note on the dresser that said, “Thanks for the symphony. I’ll be back for the encore later.”
~Grace R,
Jacksonville, FL
