Jane's Arpeggio Ch. 03byKaryn Gardenia©
He couldn't believe how warm her breath was as she leaned in to pant teasingly against him through the thin material of his boxers. It was like her mouth was already on him, but it wasn't...not really. Soon, though, he could feel the gentle push of her lips as they brushed against him, moving upward. He let himself tighten a fistful of her hair gently in his right hand as he let himself shudder with anticipation. She was really making an art of this.
Before fully realizing his movement, he was gripping the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down, exposing himself to her. Her eyes lit up in satisfaction as his stiff cock came out of hiding, and her warm right hand was immediately on it, her thumb and the inside of her first finger creating a maddening pressure around the base. He shivered at what it would feel like when the contact finally came...
In an instant, there it was. She had leaned in and taken the head of his cock between her lips. It was a teasing touch, for all he could feel was the soft texture of her lips...slightly damp from their passionate kissing..but she was withholding any contact to her tongue or the slick saliva he knew she had ready for him. He would have done anything for that hot wetness right that moment.
Instead, she slipped her grip upward, circling her hand around the length and width of him, and moved her fingers softly, rhythmically, in a scale pattern. The ends of her slender fingers drummed against his hard flesh in a way he had never experienced. Suddenly, she looked up, right into his eyes, sinking lower on her knees, and without breaking the gaze, slid him back into her mouth. This time she let him sink into the wetness of her mouth, pressed against her tongue and into the opening of her throat, where she held him as she stared up. Now, it was entirely too much.
"Jane," he said, gasping, and could say no more.
She went to work on him- beginning slowly with subtle movements, and quickening into ravenous licks and dives- some of which would take every inch of him down into her throat. He had to grip the edge of the piano to stay on his feet. He knew he wouldnt be able to remain standing with treatment like this for long. Her hand moved down to his balls, where they played methodically, while her other hand slid up to his hip to find a grip. He felt a moan form deep in her throat, where he was currently dwelling. It buzzed against him in the sweetest kind of vibration. She really was enjoying this. He thought for a moment about her bare knees on the floor, and her chestnut hair. He thought about having her naked from the waist down and lain over his lap while he favored her with a series of careful, unharming slaps to her bare ass. He didn't know why these things came to him, only that they did, and had been for quite some time.
Her left hand began to creep up his stomach, under his shirt. Idly, it began to undo the buttons holding it together. She continued to suck him, sliding him in and out of her mouth smoothly while she managed to release all but two of the buttons, which he got himself. He pulled his shirt down and off his shoulders, letting it land on the piano bench, at the same time noticing that her mouth had left him and she was rising.
Both of her hands climbed up his stomach and then his chest, sliding over his shoulders and pulling her soft body right up against his mostly-naked form. Her bare stomach and knees pressed against his, and he had a chill as he imagined her under him, his body moving against hers while he fucked her. Her mouth was on his now, and he could taste himself on her...the soap he had used to bathe himself that morning, combined with the salty undertone of his building pleasure.
"Jane," he repeated against her lips, equally as breathless as before, "you're amazing."
She didn't respond, but instead took his cock in her hand, squeezing it slightly as she grazed her lips along his jawline. Her breasts against him were firm and round, and the fabric on them argued against his earlier observation that her shirt must be painted on.
"I'm feeling a little overdressed," she finally said, giggling in her conspiracy. His fingers grasped the underside of her black sweater, pulling it up around her ribs as she continued grinding her hips against him. Her arms swept straight up, allowing him to pull the sweater off of her, exposing most of her breasts in a shockingly scandalous bra- a black lace number that did wonders for her perky cleavage, with narrow straps and transparent mesh in the holes in the lace. His hands instinctively went to her breasts, where he gripped one in each hand, feeling his cock jump in delight from below. Her sweet, girlish laugh moments before was still ringing in his ears, and her breasts were SO high and round. He could have exploded, really... but he didn't. She was unbuttoning her denim skirt and then unzipping it, and for the moment he forgot all about her wonderful breasts. She was exposing more and more of her stomach, then her hips, then as she let the skirt drop all the way to the floor, she took careful measure to step daintily out of it. She wasn't wearing a thing under it. He couldn't breathe.
His hands circled her, running up the back of her thighs where he could do what he had earlier wished. Soon, his hands were full of her warm, curved ass, and he went ahead and squeezed her, pulling her back against him abruptly. He stretched his fingers around the curve of her buttocks so that the tips of them were buried very near her forbidden hollow. He could feel her wetness there like a red flag, waving at him to throw her down and fuck her until she cried.
But, he didn't. He put a hand on her shoulder, urging her to sit on the piano bench. She did as she was directed. He dropped to his knees quickly, on a mission. In a moment, he had her leaning back against the piano, her elbows craning back to rest on the keys. He heard two clusters of notes that rang with disonnance in the room- one low, and one high, as her body splayed out against the instrument. He went nearly blind with arousal and need, but could feel her legs parting, dangling over the sides of the bench as his fingers found her center. She was wetter than he had thought, and he wanted absolutely nothing more at that moment, with the terrible combination of notes hanging in the air, than to taste her. He pressed a single finger all the way into her, hearing her moan and feeling her tighten and wriggle on him. He pulled out, adding a second finger before returning into her. When he was satisfied with his examination, he gripped her thighs and favored her with a few deliberate licks of her young, bare pussy. Her taste was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but bury his face against her, losing himself in her scent and wetness. He pushed his tongue as far into her as he could manage, then nibbled on her gently while his hands massaged her inner thighs. He heard another cluster of notes as she shifted her elbows on the piano, letting out a series of delightfully sexy little whimpers. One of her legs was shaking slightly, and he could feel his cock pulsing severely between his own legs, its tension driving up into his gut. He felt her reach the edge and he knew it was time.
His eyes watered and his body tensed as he felt her cumming on him the moment he slid his rock-hard erection into her. He knew she had been close, and he had wanted nothing more than to feel it not on his fingers or in his mouth, but on the erection she had given him. He wanted her to feel it and to recognize its significance and power. My GOD, but she was tight.
The flood of her juices took away any last composure Nile had. He valued himself a gentleman, but here in this room, fucking a beautiful girl on a piano, feeling her dripping and melting all over his member, he totally lost all touch with that. His thrusting became harsh, directed, and intent. Her breasts were bouncing in her black bra, and he reached down to pull them free so he could watch their movement. The black lacey material bunched up beneath them, pushing them up even further past their perky level. He railed her like he had always dreamed. He filled her up like he had imagined many nights before. It was all just...pure bliss. She was looking up at him, her mouth open, and her voice was full of pleasure and need. She was getting what she deserved, and what he wanted so badly.
Lost in his desire, he was brought back to reality as she tightened up, ready to cum again. Her voice raised in pitch, and miraculously matched the pitch on the piano she happened to shift to. He thrusted harder. In a moment, she was melting on him again, and he could pretend no longer. He, too, was going to lose it.
She anticipated him. Before he could make any move, she had pushed him gently back with both hands, a good two and a half feet from the bench. She fell to her knees once more, brushing a whisp of her hair away from her face and tilting her head back to look up at him as she had before. He gripped his cock in his hand, his eyes never leaving her face, and covered her lips and tongue with his fiery cum. Some of it ran down the side of her chin and splashed across her breasts, where it gleamed in the overhead light. He was beyond breathless. Both of them panted and caught their breath for a long time before either spoke. The silence was broken when Nile looked at the clock, and saw that any moment now, Jane's next student would be arriving for her lesson. Jane looked too, and frowned in her girlish way.
"Nile," she said, still frowning, "this isn't right."
"What?" he asked, filled with a sudden dismay at her words. How could it have not been right?
"You have two more exercises yet to play," she answered in a very convincing mock seriousness.
He stood paralyzed for a moment, collecting the information, then smiled a little, catching himself on the bench as he almost keeled over. He pulled his boxers up into position, then tried to pull up his pants, stopping twice to fight light-headedness.
He saw that she was dressing quickly and with great ease, and frowned back at her.
"Is that really what you were thinking about the whole time?" he teased.
"Actually," she said, tossing his shirt into his lap, "I was thinking about how overpaid I am. I think perhaps you should stop bringing your wallet with you to your lessons, young man."
The clock fell into place on the half-hour, and the front door swung open, admitting a first grade girl who would moments later be scolded lightly by her mother for crossing the street alone. Nile passed the girl and her mother on the way out, grinning at the both of them.
The little girl would come to know him in the coming weeks as Nile, the grown-up student who was sometimes a bit disheveled, but always smiling.