tagRomanceAn Impromptu Lesson

An Impromptu Lesson

bykimbelina©

It's a warm Tuesday afternoon in May, and I'm catching up on my studying on the lawn outside the music building. I'm a music major at the University of... well, to protect the innocent let's just say it's a large state university in California. Plenty of time before my piano lesson, I think to myself, until I glance at my watch... 2:25 - only 5 minutes until my lesson! I must have lost track of time as I was enjoying the feel of the sun on my skin! 5 minutes is plenty of time to gather up my things and walk up the two flights of stairs to Dr. Foster's studio - but nowhere close to enough time to make it back to my dorm room and change into a more decent outfit.

I feel several sets of eyes on me as I quickly jump up off the lawn, brush the grass off my long legs, and gather up my books. My pleated skirt is short enough that I'm sure the guy sitting behind me is getting a nice view of my ass as I grab my backpack - and I hear a whistle from the other end of the lawn as I arch my back to slip my arms through the straps, showing off my 36C breasts which are barely concealed in a black bikini top.

Normally, I'd enjoy this little bit of attention, since it usually suffices as my love life - I spend so much time alone in the practice room or studying that I never have time for guys - at the moment, though, it's just irritating. I had planned to leave enough time to get back to my dorm room and change, as these clothes, while fine for sitting out in the sun, are hardly appropriate for a lesson with Dr. Foster. But being late to my lesson would be even worse, so I know I have no choice but to show up dressed like this.

As I open the door of the music building, I feel my heart skip a beat. Nothing out of the ordinary - I'm often nervous as I arrive here, on my way to a lesson or a performance. But today there's the added stress of running in at the last minute, barely dressed. Some of my friends probably wouldn't think twice about showing up for a lesson in a slutty outfit... but I'm a firm believer in showing my teachers some respect. More importantly, though, I'd hate for Dr. Foster to have any hint of the huge crush I've developed for him.

Oh, wait, I do have a top in my backpack that I can throw on! I glance up at the clock and realize that I have about two minutes to spare, and rush to the restroom, just down the hall from Dr. Foster's studio. Sure enough, tossed carelessly into my backback, there's the white blouse I had taken off earlier as I sat in the sun. I quickly pull it on, go to the sink and splash a little water on my face to cool off, and then check myself out in the mirror to make sure I look at least a little decent.

I'm actually relieved once I see the innocent young college student looking back at me. I'm 20, but most people think I look younger - more like 18. 5'7", big blue eyes, blond hair cascading down onto my shoulders. My skin is glowing from being out in the sun for the past few hours. I carefully button each button of the blouse I've just put on so that it covers my bikini top and settles just above the waist of my short pleated skirt.

A few deep breaths, my backpack over my shoulder, and I'm ready to walk - slowly this time - down the hall just in time to meet Dr. Foster as he opens the door to look for me.

"Right on time, as usual - your punctuality is always appreciated, Joanna!"

If only he knew, I thought to myself, but instead chose the more appropriate, "Hello, Dr. Foster, how are you today?"

"How many times do I have to tell you, please call me Greg," he said as he did every week. But before I could answer, he launched into one of his typical stories from the week - something about what happened after so-and-so's concert or the latest politics among the faculty. He's notorious among the students for enjoying the sound of his own voice, but I don't mind, because these few minutes at the beginning of each week's lesson give me the chance to study his body as he talks. I've always admired him - he's such a wonderful performer and teacher, and also such a handsome man. Sure, he's old enough to be my father, and I'd die before admitting to anyone that I fantasized about him, but I figure these few minutes of naughty thoughts each week were more than balanced by all of my hard work in practicing and studying. Heck, it was practically my only vice, and it didn't hurt anyone.

He winds up his story - couldn't tell you what it was, since I wasn't really listening - and then sits down at the other piano to play for me. "I've been thinking about the trouble you were having with the Chopin Impromptu, Joanna - and I have a new idea. Listen as I play it for you, and see if you can pick up on what I'm doing differently." With that, he launches instantly into the hardest passage of the piece, the one I had spent hours practicing that week. I watch his strong hands fly across the keyboard, making it all look so easy.

Now I split my attention - I'm still admiring his body, but also doing as he asked and listening to his performance, trying to be the best student I could be. Musically, I see what he's doing - there's more freedom in his playing than mine, and he's much more relaxed. Physically, I can't take my eyes off of what I can see of his muscled body under his suit, remarkably fit for his age (he had turned 50 earlier this year). And I love watching his salt-and-pepper hair fly wildly as he lets himself become completely engrossed in the music.

As he stops playing and turns to me, I quickly pull my thoughts back into focus. "Piano lesson, piano lesson. He's your teacher, not a sex object, pull yourself together," I tell myself.

"So, do you see what I'm doing, Joanna? You've worked plenty hard on this music, you know it inside and out, what you need to do now is just relax and let yourself go," he said with his usual enthusiasm when he knows he's found the answer. My facial expression must have betrayed what he already knew after being my teacher for the last two years. "And yes, I know that relaxing and letting yourself go is the very hardest thing for you to do, Joanna - but it's the next step you need to take in becoming an artist!" And then, realizing that he had gotten carried away and was practically shouting at me, he continued in a much quieter voice. "Why don't you start playing at the beginning, and we'll work through it slowly. I might talk as you're playing to give you suggestions, but whatever I do, don't stop! The goal is to lose yourself in the music."

His enthusiasm was always catching, so even though I doubted my ability to relax while my teacher was watching me, I decided to trust his methods and go for it.

"Remember," he said after I had played just a few bars, "whatever I do, don't stop playing."

First, I felt his hands on my shoulders. This was nothing new, as it was his method for helping me relax. When I first started studying with him, even that slight touch completely turned me on - but I had gotten used to it over the past few years. I had also grown used to feeling his breath on my neck, as he bent down to whisper an instruction in my ear - usually something about less pedal, or more left hand - but what he said now froze my hands on the piano.

"Why did you put your blouse back on before you came to your lesson?"

"Ummm, what?"

"I was watching you out on the lawn before your lesson, Joanna. You looked so relaxed, sitting out in the sun, and I was hoping you'd bring that same attitude into your lesson, rather than the buttoned-down, serious student who always walks into my studio."

"Well, I always want to show respect for you as my teacher, and I didn't think it would be appropriate to march into your studio wearing just a bikini top!"

"I appreciate your attitude, Joanna, but I think it's time for you to live a little - it will help your piano playing."

"Um, OK... but I'm not sure what you mean," I stammered.

"I've seen the way you look at me, Joanna. I've noticed that you never seem to have a date for concerts, that you aren't involved with anyone. Is it because you're secretly fantasizing about me?"

"Yes... I mean, no, of course not, gosh, you're old enough to be my father, and I wouldn't think of getting involved with a teacher in that way," the words spilled out of my mouth. But I could see by the look on his face that he heard the first word - "yes" - and ignored the rest.

"Joanna, let's try something different for your lesson today", he said as he walked over to his studio door and locked it from the inside. "I need you to trust me, I'm going to show you a few things you need to learn. When we're done, I'll let you play the Chopin for me, and we'll see if it isn't better after you've let go of a few of your inhibitions."

I did trust him as a teacher, but I could also feel the excitement building hot and deep in my pussy, hoping I was right about the lesson he had in mind.

He returned to his piano bench, and I was still sitting on mine. "I want you to follow my instructions carefully. If you do everything that I ask, I think we'll have a chance of making some progress today."

And so began the lesson, and I followed each command precisely as I looked deep into his eyes: straddle the bench... unbutton your blouse... touch yourself, show me what you do when you're alone, thinking of me...

And so I showed him. I slowly unbuttoned my blouse, peeled it off, and threw it to the floor. I slipped first one breast and then the other out of my bikini top, squeezing and kneading my nipples until they became hard. My other hand made its way down to my short skirt, which now covered absolutely nothing, with my legs straddling the bench. I slowly stroked myself through my lacy black panties until they were completely soaked, and then pushed them to one side to give myself more access.

I let out a soft moan and closed my eyes as my fingers touched my clit. I let myself lean back, lying down on the bench and giving him a full view of my dripping pussy as I stroked my clit faster and faster.

"Stop," he said gently. "Let your hands fall to your sides." I did as I was told. After what seemed like an eternity, lying in front of him, completely exposed, I could sense him moving closer, hear him kneel on the floor in front of me. His big strong hands now resumed what mine had started, stroking my clit and gently sliding in and out of my pussy. I could feel my hips start to move in rhythm with his hands, and at that moment his tongue replaced his fingers. I had never felt anything like this, this was a man who obviously knew what he was doing to please a young woman, and I'd certainly never been with anyone who matched that description before.

But now I couldn't even finish the thought. He had brought me to the brink of orgasm, and was now licking my clit, flicking it, biting it, as three of his big strong fingers pumped in and out of my juicy hole. "I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum..."

"I know, Joanna, let it happen, go with it..."

I thought I had experienced orgasm before, but had never felt anything like this. Wave after wave of intense feeling pulsed through my entire body, and I lost all track of where, when, and how... again, my thoughts were interrupted. This time by his fingers, covered with my juices, suddenly shoved deep in my mouth. My pussy was still throbbing, and now I was tasting my own cum for the first time.

Dr. Foster grabbed my hair, pulling me up off the bench and then down to my knees on the floor next to him. I let out a little gasp of surprise, but I didn't object to his roughness - I was ready to do anything for this man after the pleasure he had just given me. He had stopped giving verbal instructions, and now gave me my next task with obvious animal signals. He stepped in front of me so that his bulging cock, obvious through his slacks, was right in front of my face. I knew what I needed to do.

I tugged at his belt until it came loose from the buckle, and pulled it quickly from his slacks, making a whipping sound that excited me terribly.

As he kicked off his shoes - one landing on the piano keys with a dissonant slap - I unzipped and quickly pulled down his slacks. Boxers, just as I had always fantasized.

After I managed to release his penis from its cruel confinement, I took a moment just to admire it - by far the biggest I had ever seen. But again, he interrupted those thoughts - again grabbing my hair, and pushing the entire length of his cock into my mouth. For a moment I started to gag and worried that I couldn't catch a breath, but soon pulled myself together and focused on the task at hand. With his balls cupped in one hand, I used the other to stroke the base of his cock as I sucked as much of the length as I could handle. He was still holding my hair, gathering it into a ponytail, and now also began thrusting his hips.

"Do you like it when I fuck your mouth, Joanna?"

"Ummm hmmm," I answered as best I could with his thick cock slamming into my throat.

"But I want to fuck something else, Joanna. I want to fuck that tight little pussy of yours, are you ready?"

"Oh, yeah," I grunted, as I gave his hard cock one last suck and let it fall from my mouth.

"Stand up and bend over the piano," he instructed. Again, of course, I did as I was told. As I felt his bare skin press against mine from behind, he reached around and grabbed both of my breasts in one of his big strong hands. At the same time, I could feel the tip of his giant cock pressing against the entrance to my dripping, hot pussy. "Are you sure you're ready?"

"Yes, please, give it to me!!!"

Instead of his cock, I felt his hand smack across my ass. "Careful, Joanna, you know how thin the walls are in this building - I won't give you what you want until you promise to be a little quieter!"

"I'm sorry," I whispered, "I promise I can be quiet - please just give it to me." And with that, he thrust his cock deep inside of me. I let out a gasp, and now his hand, instead of spanking me, came around to cover my mouth. He began fucking me so hard his balls were slapping against my tight ass, but neither of us said a word or let out a sigh, as we heard a lesson begin in the studio next door. The student began playing scales as Dr. Foster's balls continued to slap against me, and I couldn't believe what a turn on it was to be doing something so naughty with my teacher in his studio, with another student right on the other side of the thin wall!

Wordlessly, we changed positions - he pulled out of me and sat back down on the piano bench, motioning for me to come forward and sit on his cock. I practically jumped on, and this new position gave me a new set of sensations that I knew would send me over the edge quite quickly. As he fondled and sucked my nipples, I bounced up and down on his throbbing cock, faster and harder as I felt myself coming close to another orgasm.

"Oh, Joanna, I'm gonna cum," he whispered - "So am I, so am I," was the only response I could manage. He grabbed my shoulders and stopped my bouncing motion, holding me in one position as my pussy muscles continued to work. I began to rock my hips back and forth and could feel an incredible orgasm mounting inside of me. I couldn't keep quiet anymore, I needed to cry out, and perhaps sensing this, Dr. Foster suddenly kissed me passionately - our first kiss! - and as I could feel myself cumming, he shot his load deep inside of me, just adding to the intensity of my orgasm.

He held me for the next few minutes as our breathing returned to normal and the shock of what had just happened began to sink in. Calmly, he asked, "So, are you ready to play the Chopin for me?" Looking deep into his eyes, I realized he was completely serious. This was in fact all part of the lesson - and he wanted to see if I could pull myself together, draw on the passion I had just experienced, and give the performance of my life.

I lifted myself off of his now-soft cock, found my panties on the floor, and did my best to get dressed again. Dripping with cum and sweat, I sat back down at the piano and started to play. It took every bit of energy I had left to get through the performance, spent as I was from the wildest fucking session I had ever experienced. But I was also too tired to get nervous, too tired to let the usual worries flit through my head as I played, and it was indeed the best performance I had ever given of the Chopin.

When I finally finished and looked up at my teacher, he smiled and simply said, "Good work!" Looking at his watch, he sighed and said, "Well, I guess we're out of time - my next student will be here soon."

"Same time next week," he said innocently enough as he patted my ass on my way out of his studio. "Same time next week, indeed," I thought to myself, and smiled.

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