Forbidden Music Ch. 01byClassyGirl©
It was Monday, and Ella had been standing in her dorm room, trying and failing to pick out an outfit for the last half hour. She was a freshman in college, majoring in music, and today was her first studio master class of the year. 10 am sharp, Dr. Reilly had said. Dr. Reilly, the flute professor at her university, was a brilliant and extremely talented man. She got nervous just thinking about seeing him again. At their first meeting, she had gotten a small taste of his over the top formal manner and professionalism. It made her uneasy. He was all smiles, very cordial, while somehow still managing to be ridiculously intimidating. A person like that brought out the professional in herself, and she wanted to look her absolute best for the occasion.
Numerous skirts, blouses, bras and dresses were carelessly thrown to the ground in her frustrated search for the perfect outfit. She finally decided on a black lace bra with a button up white top with ruffles down the front, a black pencil skirt, black heels and a string of pearls to top it off. Scampering into her clothing, she hastily checked her reflection in the small dorm mirror above her dresser. Her eye makeup was done just how she liked it: 50's style liquid eyeliner wings. it accented her large, brown almond shaped eyes perfectly. Her dark hair was naturally wavy and fell to the top of her small breasts. It was five minutes to 10:00 and this was as good as things were going to get, she decided. Grabbing her things, she rushed down the stairs to the first floor and out into the bright, hot sunlight, and then almost instantly back inside the air conditioned music building.
Her heart was pounding uncomfortably in her throat as she walked briskly down the tiled halls, her ears catching snatches of trumpet, piano, harp, and all other various instruments from offices and practice rooms along the walls. As much as she liked dressing nicely on a regular basis, this mandatory business-casual attire was a little attention grabbing. Men stared at her as she click-clacked down the hallway in her heels and tight skirt. She knew she was considered beautiful, even if she didn't believe what men told her herself. She knew it by the stares she received on a daily basis. It always made her the slightest bit uncomfortable, even though she tried to ignore it.
She made a left down another hallway and saw the doors to studio 160 looming in front of her. Taking a deep breath, she grasped the polished handle and gathered her composure around her like a shield. She entered the room and felt at ease for a split second: Dr. Reilly hadn't arrived yet. many pairs of eyes looked up as she walked in the room like they usually did. While she had learned from experience that this only meant she looked attractive today, it made her self conscious every time it happened.
Ella was by no means an outgoing person. She carried conversation well with those she was familiar and comfortable with and few others. Sitting down next to a small and friendly boy her year named Joe, she nervously smoothed her skirt down over her knees as she smiled at him. Before they could exchange more than pleasantries the door opened and the room fell silent. A booming voice saying "Hello, ladies and gentlemen," announced the presence of Dr. Reilly. He was wearing the usual black suit, tie, impeccably shined shoes and beaming grin. And so the master class began.
Dr. Reilly was truly a professional and a great musician. Ella felt her jaw dropping in awe with his technical precision and gorgeous tone every time he put his flute up to his mouth to perform for them. While speaking to the members of the flute studio as a class he would scan each member with his eyes, speaking to just them for a moment, lingering, then moving on just before a feeling of awkwardness could arise. His voice had a lilting air, and his words were professional and erudite to an almost comic effect. He was a master in every facet of performance, from his perfect stage comportment to his incredible talent with the flute. Ella had a strange mix of emotions towards the man. She nervously dreaded every time she'd be in the same room with him, but at the same time craved his expert attention and always left his presence feeling elated and inspired.
Her regularly scheduled private lessons were every Tuesday at three o'clock. During high school Ella had always dreaded her private lessons with her local teacher because she always felt unprepared and unmotivated, but with Dr. Reilly, she always tried to do her best to impress him. The drive was really there with him, and everything she played she played with heart because she knew that was what he wanted, and in turn, what she wanted. Every Tuesday she'd enter his small, quiet office feeling shy and more than a little nervous.
It was her third private lesson with Dr. Reilly and she still wasn't quite used to her new teacher. As she played through her etude she could feel his gaze on her and could see his pen flashing as he jotted down notes in his lesson planner. It was distracting and she could feel herself pulling out of the world of the music she was immersed in. She unconsciously licked her lips and finished the etude faster than she had started it, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks.
"Well done, really quite lovely," Commented Dr. Reilly. He looked up at her with smiling brown eyes and Ella noticed that he was quite attractive for an older man. She wondered fleetingly exactly how old he was, probably in his late thirties or early forties. She could feel herself blushing from his praise and her own thoughts and tried to make her smile smaller and more demure as she mumbled a thank-you. The tiniest amount of praise from him made her squirm with self consciousness and pleasure. As he walked over to her and began to critique her playing of the etude she relaxed. She felt truly grateful to be studying under such an accomplished man. All the pictures on the walls of his office showed a lifestyle of travel and performance. Her mind wandered over all the framed programs and photographs: Dr. Adam Reilly performing as a soloist with the New York Philharmonic, Dr. Reilly performing in the Boston Pops, Dr. Reilly performing in China. She heard her name and was pulled back to the present. "Ella? I was addressing a habit of yours we need to break." He said, smiling a little at her inattentiveness. She was embarrassed to be caught not paying attention.
"It's your lip licking, i'm afraid. You always lick your lips before you play," He went on. Lip licking? Ella nervously laughed and unconsciously licked her full lips.
"I know, it's a bad habit... I guess my mouth just gets dry," She said sheepishly. His eyes flashed momentarily to her plump lower lip. She was proud of her lips because they were naturally defined, and a rosy pink color many women had to artificially create. She hardly ever wore lipstick because she didn't really need to.
"Ah, well, the thing is, our target audience as performers is mainly old women. It's just a true fact," he said with his large hands spread. "They don't like to see anything they might consider unseemly." She noticed his eyes move to her lips again and felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She had always hated how easily she blushed, although men usually told her they found it endearing. She chuckled. "I'll try to stop, but it's hard to break that sort of habit," she said.
As the lesson went on he continued to give her good tips and advice on techniques and ways to break bad habits she'd developed. She noticed that his eyes lingered just a second too long on her lips more than once, and even traveled down the length of her body a few times when he thought she wasn't looking. She stopped to wonder for a second why this thrilled her rather than creeped her out, after all, he was old enough to be her father and she was his student; she was going to be his student for four years. It wasn't the first time she'd captured the interest of her male teachers. She supposed that she had a side that liked the attention and wanted to be seen as a desirable, sexual girl. In fact, she was a very sexual person.
She had a suspicion that she was a more sexual being than any of her girl friends, which she liked about herself. It was satisfying to know that nobody would look at her and judge her to be a naughty, horny girl by her outward appearance. It was a little secret that she carried around with her that only a select few knew about, mainly boyfriends that she'd had in the past and her one best friend. It satisfied her to think that the men who lusted after her didn't know her secret unless she chose to reveal it to them. She liked that sense of power. When she laid in bed at night feeling her pussy get hot and tingly she loved knowing that men wanted her and her lithe young body. But during the day she loved looking demure and innocent. That night she thought about Dr. Reilly's brown eyes traveling up and down her body as she stroked herself inside her panties.
She thought about him a lot when she wasn't with him, and she became increasingly nervous to be around him because of these thoughts. Her heart pounded in her chest as she climbed the stairs to his office for her next lesson. While getting dressed that morning she had felt herself being drawn towards her sexier, curve hugging dresses. Dr. Reilly hovered in the back of her mind as she chose a tight black one that buttoned all the way down the front. Now as she approached his open door she felt a little foolish for having gotten so dressed up for a lesson. She stepped inside his office and saw him look up from his desk. His eyebrows went up a little as he saw her and said "Good morning, Ella. How's Tuesday treating you?" This time he couldn't hide his eyes roving over her curves. He looked away and cleared his throat.
"It's good," she said, grinning. She sat down, displaying more thigh than was probably acceptable and reaching down to grab her flute. Dr. Reilly glanced at her exposed thigh and seemed to have a hard time looking away. He hastily looked up when she sat back up and flashed her a disarmingly bright smile. A wave of heat flooded into her stomach.
"Today we're going to work on articulation technique and proper hand position," he told her. Inwardly she groaned. Articulation was one of the worst aspects of her playing. He got up and stood beside her while she played her etude for the week. She played it poorly; it was hard to concentrate on the etude when she could hear his breathing behind her shoulder and feel his eyes on the back of her neck. When she was done she looked down and gave him a feeble grin.
"My mind just isn't here today I guess." He smiled and raised his eyebrows. "Could I inquire where it is you left it?" he asked, good-humored. "Um..." Ella smiled and could think of no witty response. "I don't know," she finished lamely. She peered up through her thick lashes at his warm eyes and looked back down at her shoes. Her face flushed as she hoped it wouldn't.
"Happens to the best of us," he said easily. He began to demonstrate to her perfect hand position. She realized was physically aware of him and had no idea where it came from. It was like some switch had been flipped and she could smell his scent and hear his breathing and feel his closeness to her. It disarmed her and she felt nervous again. She noticed how good he looked in his suit and tie and how graceful his hands were as they stroked the keys on his flute like it was the easiest thing in the world. She tried to focus on what he was teaching but this new awareness was making her tense and distracted.
"Play from a low F sharp to C sharp for me," He asked her. She tried, but her right hand pinky made it impossible to get from the F sharp to the C sharp as smoothy as he could. The more she tried the worse it got.
"Now, try curving your right hand like this, so there isn't such a big gap between your third and fourth fingers and your pinky is curved. This makes it much easier to slide over to the C sharp." He explained while showing her what he meant. She tried but could tell it wasn't right. She kept focusing on unimportant things like the shape of his lips as he spoke and how nice of teeth he had. She could tell she was getting wet just being around him. This was going to be a problem.
She was remembering her fantasy from the previous night, how in her mind he had come up behind her and put his big hands on her hips, running them over her body up to just below her breasts and back down, making her shiver and her eyelids close halfway. How he had pressed up against her from behind and she could feel that he was hard. How she felt his warm breath on the back of her neck and how he kissed the spot just underneath her ear, giving her goosebumps all over, and then bit her earlobe gently just like she liked it.
Dr. Reilly gestured to her hand and said "May I?" She was startled out of her fantasy and realized he was talking about physically moving her fingers into the right positions. She also realized that she was tingling all over and probably soaked through her panties. She nodded slowly. He had never touched her before. He moved closer to her and gently lifted her fingers into the right positions, using as little pressure as possible. His touch was incredibly soft and made her pulse increase. She was paranoid that he would hear how her breathing had sped up. He was standing a little closer than was necessary and she could smell his cologne. Her mind was going fuzzy and she didn't know how much more of this she could take before she snapped.
"There you go, now try to play it." He said softly. She raised the flute to her lips and tried again. This time she had success. She smiled and looked at his perfect teeth again. He was still standing as close to her as possible while still maintaining a somewhat professional atmosphere, but there was a definite air of sexual tension in the room and they both knew it. If she wasn't mistaken, there was a slight bulge in his dress pants. He hastily stepped away from her and began to talk about articulation and double tonguing. It was her weakness and he knew it.
"Watch my lips while I demonstrate." He ordered her. He knows, she thought. He's ordering me to look at his lips. How could he not know? She had no choice but to stare as he demonstrated his superb use of tonguing. As he finished she blurted out "Wow, you're really good with your tongue."
as soon as the words left her mouth she turned bright red and stammered, "Um, that didn't really come out right. You have a very good double tongue," she said, trying to hold back nervous laughter. He let out a booming laugh and she relaxed. "It's alright, It always has been my forte," he said and winked at her. He actually winked at me, she thought. I can't believe we just flirted over a cliche musical innuendo. Wait, flirting? We flirted? Oh God. Ella was sure that if she didn't get out of there soon she would do something she'd regret. She looked up at the clock. Thank God their hour was over. She put away her flute as fast as she could without seeming rude, rushed out of his office and left a flustered Dr. Reilly in her wake.
She walked down to the practice rooms in the basement of the music building in an extreme state of arousal and confusion. She practically ran into one of the empty rooms and shut the door behind her. Her palms were sweaty and her hands shook as she closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall. She could still smell him. It was so wrong that she should feel this way about a man fifteen or twenty years her senior, even if he was extremely handsome and talented... The forbidden thoughts wouldn't stop playing through her mind, like a song stuck on repeat. She heard Bach's Partita for flute in A Minor while Dr. Reilly undressed her in her mind.
Her breathing was erratic and her hand slipped inside her panties of its own accord. She wasn't surprised to find her pussy wetter than it had ever been before. She could smell the strong scent of her own arousal and put her wet fingers up to her lips. She put her fingers in her mouth and sucked her own sweet, tangy juices off them, then returned them between her legs. She felt so naughty, doing this in a practice room with other people around, knowing that Dr. Reilly was just a floor above her, probably still hard thinking about their lesson together. The thought made her even hotter, and she furiously rubbed her swollen clit, needing release so badly.
In her mind Dr. Reilly's incredible tongue was traveling down her body, stopping to suck lightly on her nipples, biting them gently, running down her stomach to her shaved pussy, tracing the outline of her smooth, soft outer lips before gently licking at her clit. She stifled her moan as his tongue ran down to her opening and slid inside her while his long, nimble fingers played with her hard nipples. She could hear him moan and he told her in a deep, husky voice, "God, you taste so good. Can I make you cum?"
Ella was sliding down the wall of the practice room, unable to support her knees any longer, trying not to whimper aloud as she spread her legs as far apart as they would go. She imagined sliding down on her knees in front of him, unbuckling his pants and taking out his hard cock. She wondered how big it would be. She wanted to take it slowly into her mouth, inch by inch, teasing him with her tongue until he was begging for more. She wanted to make him beg so badly. She was so close to cumming as a vision of Dr. Reilly slowly sliding two fingers in and out of her burst into her mind. She shuddered and came instantly, unable to hold back a little stifled moan as she convulsed on the floor, hot waves of pleasure spreading from her pussy all throughout her body, still rubbing her clit hard.
As her breathing slowed she knew she had to do something about this. It was going to drive her crazy if she didn't. She had to make her fantasy a reality somehow. That thought alone was ridiculous. She couldn't believe she was entertaining the possibility of actually coming on to her professor. It was even crazier that she thought he might want it as much as she did.
Dr. Reilly never acted differently towards Ella while they were in public or during master classes, but she did notice that his behavior was subtly changing during their private lessons. He had dropped his staid professionalism slightly. His voice was just a bit softer, just a little bit lower when he spoke to her. He wasn't quite as quick to avert his eyes when she caught him staring at her lips or her legs or her cleavage. She enjoyed wearing tight dresses that accentuated her curves and showed her creamy thighs and how he couldn't stop himself from staring. She knew how wrong it was to tease him, but she wanted to push him to the edge. No, she wanted to push him off the edge. After every lesson her panties were so wet she had to change them and she was so worked up that she always had to give herself at least one orgasm, if not two or three in a row. He was driving her crazy with his lips and the way he smiled and talked and laughed. When her lesson was over she wanted to run from the room in embarrassment but simultaneously felt so sad that she'd have to wait another day to see him again. It was getting harder and harder to hide the fact that when he came close it made her shake and suck in her breath before she could stop herself from reacting. His smell was intoxicating and it made her head spin and he knew it. In her lesson they stood close, blatantly flirting while he still managed to teach her the things she needed to learn. She was amazed at how good of a teacher he was.
Her next lesson was rescheduled for six o'clock the next Tuesday evening because Dr. Reilly was busy with performances until then. Every lesson brought increasing amounts of arousal and nervousness, partly because of how attracted to him she was, but partly because she was playing a very difficult piece to learn and hadn't been practicing as much as she should have been.