tagChain StoriesF2: Absolute Pitch

F2: Absolute Pitch


Fawc 2 : Absolute Pitch

(Author's note: This story is a submission to the second Friendly Anonymous Writing Challenge (FAWC). The true author of this story is kept anonymous, but will be revealed on August 16th, 2013, in the comments section following this story. Each story in this challenge is centered around a random determination of four "mystery ingredients." There are no prizes given in this challenge; this is simply a friendly competition.)

(The mystery ingredients were Arrogant, music/rhyme, energetic, and game/toy.)

* * * *

"You realize Charles Schulz is spinning in his grave from laughter, right?" says Terra from behind me with a hint of a snicker. When I don't respond she sighs and pats my shoulder. I listen to her heels tapping on the floor behind me as she walks away. Her shoes making the last sounds in the concert hall... other than him.

It's very late at night. Most everyone is at one of the school victory parties. They are going on all over the campus. The football players won the big game against our major in state rival today. They even won by an impressive score, a true 'butt whooping'. Everyone is celebrating, except for me... and him.

His name is Chris Doran. He is a virtuoso level piano player. A blond haired piano player...

...and my name is Lucy. The irony of it is not lost on me in the least, I didn't need Terra pointing it out. It's an irony that has followed me for half my life. You see I've been in love with him for that long.

When was the first time I heard him play? More than a decade ago. His parents had rented the small apartment above our garage. My Mom and Dad renovated the place and let in boarders to try and earn some more money in the tight economy. Usually it rented to single guy coming here to the local college for classes. Some of them had been nice enough boys... some however were creeps that were always trying to hit on my mom when dad wasn't around.

Then Chris's family had taken the place. His mom was a RN in training, his dad an Engineering student. They hired my Mom to 'baby' sit Chris between the time when he got out of school each day and they got home. Mostly that entailed him sitting at our kitchen table doing his homework till they pulled up and he could go home. More often than not I would be sitting there with him, struggling with my own homework.

One time while we were working on our history together, Mom had called out to the two of us to come help her in the living room. When we walked in we could see her trying to pull grandma's old upright piano out from the wall. The thing weighed a ton and it's wooden caster hadn't rolled in my lifetime. The bare wall behind it told me that the thumb tacks had come out of the cheep wood paneling while she was dusting, and that the peacock tapestry had fallen behind the piano, yet again. I think that must have happened at least four times a year as I was growing up in that house.

We helped her shift it out from the wall, with Chris doing the most of the lifting. Then after she had rehung it, without dusting it first I had to point out, we moved it back. It was then that mom saw him running his hands almost longingly across the wooden key cover. She asked him if he could play.

He had nodded. He told us his grandfather had taught him how to play. He hadn't played though since the funeral. Mom, with a sniffle, invited him to play if he wished.

As he sat down I had expected to hear maybe some variation of 'chop sticks'.

What came from his hands dropped more than one jaw in the house. Dad came walking into the room to ask us to turn down the TV and stood there as stunned as Mom and me. I learned much later that he was playing Frederic Chopin's Fantaisie... his grandfathers favorite song. At the time I knew it only to be the most beautiful thing I had ever heard. I stood there in awe of this boy, my own age, and the fact that he could do what I could never do if I was to study piano for the rest of my life.

My mom talked to his mom that night. My family helped to pay for him to have music lessons. The first teacher had to pass him on to a second teacher though within a week. Chris already knew everything he was trying to teach him. It came out that the grandfather had been a jazz player back in the forties, then he played a pipe organ player at his church every Sunday till his death.

He had taught his grandson everything he knew.

That young man was being called a prodigy before he was 12. I heard the term 'Virtuoso' applied to Chris even before our senior year in high school. It had been well before then that the beauty of his playing had attracted me to him. It may have even started that very first day.

Leaning on the door of the college's main auditorium, looking down into the hall, I listen to him now. He's been coming here every day this week and playing till midnight if not later. The massive grand piano fills this hall with glorious sound at his command. Every note seems to drift up towards the ceiling, floating like snow flakes of sound, till they drift back down like a musical rain. Chris had only to play the piano here once and the school's music conductor had given him a key to the auditorium. Something that I've since learned has to be unheard of in the history of the school.

Looking down by my feet my eyes go to the little wooden wedge stuck under the bottom of the door to hold it propped open. A slight push and a sweep of my foot and it's gone. As I step inside the door closes behind me, my hand keeping it silent. I almost chuckle at that. I'm not wanting to interrupt him but I'm about to go interrupt him more than he has ever been before.

I make my way down to the stage slowly with only determination keeping my feet moving. Rejection, after rejection from him through all the years of high school has not deterred me from the hunt. He had taken no interest in the things that most boys liked. Cars, sports... girls. The fact he never dated anyone was a major joke in the high school locker rooms. A vile joke.

To stop it I had told people he and I had been on several dates. But that was a lie. I had asked him out the first week of our freshman year.

He said no.

When I had asked him to go to homecoming with me,a few weeks later.

He said no.

Then I asked him to take me to the prom.

He said no.

Year after year, he said no.

I guess I shouldn't feel especially slighted, after all he said no to all the girls. I did though, feel that way. I was the first 'girl' to see him as something worth paying attention to. I should have at least gotten some kind of privileged attention from that. Something... anything.

As I walk down to the stage I see him notice me, but he doesn't stop playing. Hell, he doesn't even miss a note. Dressed as beautifully and sexy as I can manage and I'm not worth a single missed note?

I'll have to change his mind.

Up the three steps, across the stage, my eyes never leaving him till I come to stand next to him. I let my hand run along the inside of the grand feeling the vibrations of his music in the wood.

"What do you want, Lucy? I'm busy," he doesn't even look up from the keys.


He gives a little huff and keeps play.

"Not interested."

"In just me or in all women?" I ask with a flirty pout. That causes him to look up but he doesn't stop playing.

"All. I don't have the time to waste. Now, if your question is answered... I'm busy." he starts to play louder to drown me out.

Reaching into the case of the grand I let my hand come to rest on the strings, silencing several of them. I see him look up in outrage.

"Busy with what?" I ask taking my hand out and letting my fingers brush the oily feeling away. "Your piano needs dusted. You're losing some of your sound quality to it."

"I have a performance to do Friday night. Now, would you please leave me to practice?"

"No." I look over the clam-shell stage lights to the rows of empty chairs. "What kind of performance?"

"If you must know I'm being evaluated as a pledge for Phi Mu Alpha Sinfonia. If they like how well I can play I will get offered a chance to be a member."

"Chris, I could take a hammer and break your right hand and they would still beg you to join, on their hands and knees." I lean on the edge and look down at his hands hovering over the keys. I move my hand to the folded up edge of the key cover and he yanks his fingers back. I smile as the piano goes quiet. "I would never break something so beautiful."

He sighs exasperated.

"What do you want, Lucy? I really don't have time for this."

I look down into his eyes, those big beautiful blue eyes. Then I follow that sexy nose to those lips I tried to kiss once. Memories of that day stand out as a moment of stark failure in my life. He hadn't pulled away but he had looked at me like I was a slug. The fury of that insult still sits just under the skin but I feel it slipping away as I let my eyes go lower across that strong jaw, down that throat I want to nibble at, down to the open 'V' of his shirt. That pale hint of hair on his chest. Where does it end? I want to follow it to there and find out. I want to...


Looking back up at his face I find those baby blues again.

"I want you... to play for me."

"Then go take a seat." he jerks his thumb towards the empty rows.

I give my head a shake.

Turning I move to the prop bar of the grand and placing my hand on the top I give it a lift. The top of the piano closes as I move the prop, folding it into the case. I bring down the top shutting it tight.

"What are you doing?" he demands starting to rise.

"You're going to play for me, Chris. I've hunted you since we were kids. I've tried everything I know to get you to be with me. I've asked you out till I'm tired of hearing no. I'm sick of my wants being ignored. Tonight you're going to play for me."

Reaching behind me I catch the zipper of my dress and pull it down. I see his face, those gorgeous eyes opening wide, as I run the zipper down to my ass. With a shrug of my shoulders the loose cloth falls away to the floor.


Turning away from him I place my hands on the top of the piano and hop up. The wood is cold under my bare ass cheeks. Stretching out a bit I lean back on my elbows and look down the full length of my naked body at him.

"You're going to play for me tonight, Chris." I smirk. "We're going to see just how good you are. A really skilled piano player wouldn't let a little thing like me distract him from his... art."

"Lucy, get dress and go. I don't have any interest in you... naked or otherwise." he looks away his eyes going to the sheet music on the holder. I see him get angry then. He grabs it and presents it towards me. " MUSIC! All you women ever do is try to take me away from it. I tried dating back in high school, you know that. I took out, oh what was her name? Patty? All she wanted was for me to pay attention to her all night. And your no better! Look at you. Even now you're wanting my attention."

"No. I'm not. I don't want your attention." I open my legs a bit, his eyes drop then quickly look back up. I'm smirking at his lack of control. "I simply want you to play for me. Like this."

He just looks at me for a second then shakes his head. With a soul deep sigh he sits back down he starts to play the music before him.

I listen to it, feeling the music rise up through the wooden top and into me.

"Hum... I don't think that will do it," I says after a minute or so. Sitting up I, parting my legs wide, lean forward and pick up the sheet from his holder and look at the heading on the top. Smiling I give him a look, his eyes snapping up from my crotch. "Do you really think a girl can cum to Mozart?"


Letting the papers fall from my fingers to waft down like falling leaves to the stage floor, I lean back and let my hand run between my legs. My fingers parting my lips to his view.

"I want you to make me cum... by playing. I don't think you can do it. Only a really good piano player, a 'true' virtuoso, could make the necessary vibrations to get a woman off."

I know where his eyes are as I stroke the lips, then brush my clit. I can feel that I am very wet. My fingers leave a shiny trail of my juices across my bare shaved mound, then up onto my belly. My hand cups my breast, squeezing the nipple.

"Have you completely lost your mind, Lucy?"

"See... I knew you couldn't do it."

Under me I suddenly feel the powerful vibrations of the piano. They thrum through the wood case, the muted sounds drifting up through the wooded top.

"Oh... Beethoven. Now that might have the power if you have the skill," I say squirming my ass a bit till I'm happy with how I feel. "Good thing you have that memorized. I don't think your eyes would be on sheet music."

Looking over my breasts I see him look down quickly. I chuckle and lean back.

Stretching out on the wood under me, a smooth constant pressure against my back, it soon takes on the feeling of a vibrating back massager. It's rising and falling patterns go to work relaxing and loosening up the whole of my body. I'm vibrating with his playing.

I silently breath a sigh of relief then. I had worried that this wouldn't work and that I might have to masturbate or even fake an orgasm while stretched out here. I squirm my ass against the wood feeling every note against my tail bone. The vibrations carried by that bone go deep into my core, sending dozens of pleasurable messages to my brain. The ones that attracts the most attention are of course from the ones closest to the wooden top. There I'm growing wetter by the second.

I can feel when he shifts keys, every note a different pulse of vibration. They run deeper than any that I have ever felt before, striking nerves all along my spine, shoulders, hips and even to the balls of my feet when I lift my legs and place my feet flat on the top of the piano. I open my legs even more grinding downward to try and feel more of the music. As good as this feels it is almost more like teasing.

"Beethoven couldn't hear this music when he wrote it, he had to feel it. He had to play hard so he could feel it. Can you do that Chris? Can you play hard and make me feel it?" I ask softly. "Let me feel your talent."

I truly moan as he begins to all but pound the keys with a far more aggressive playing. Vibrations before too small to feel now come to life and the ones I had been feeling suddenly soar too far grander heights.

Licking my lips I leave my mouth parted, seeking more air. I'm letting my body take me to where it want to now., If I squirm, writhe, moan or beg so be it. I'm naked and wanting a man that doesn't want me. Well, he can satisfy me in the only way that he enjoys. I'll take what I can get at this point.

Looking between my breasts and spread legs I see his face is flushed, his lips are also parted. He is panting nearly as hard as I am. When he see me looking he looks away again.

"Please ... look if you want to. Do you like what you see? Am I not the most beautiful sheet music you've ever read?" I open my leg wider, then wider still, as I see him look up. I feel my lips part for his gaze. I know I must be glistening to his eyes. "Can you read me Chris or are my notes to difficult for your skills?"

I see his lip quirks up into a near snarl. I feel him all but redouble what he's doing but still it's not enough.

"I don't think Beethoven's is going to do it. Try something maybe a little faster."

There is a sudden up swell of vibration, I'm washed over me in a growing wave of music.

"Oh my god! What is that... I've heard it before."

"O Fortuna. It's by Carl Orff."

"Ohhh...Oh my...oh yes. I remember it now. Excalibur. They used it in the movie Excalibur."

"Yes they did." I hear his words, they sound throaty. Looking down he is looking me in the eyes this time. I want to cheer when he asks, "Does it feel good?"

I smile at him.

"It feels incredible. More. I want more," reaching down I part my lips fully letting my finger just brush my clit. I can feel it and the whole of me vibrating to the pounding passion of his playing. Our eyes are locked on each other as I circle my clit to get it wet for him to look at. His eyes drop to my pussy.

"Like it?" I ask again.


"It could be yours. Yours to have, yours to touch... to taste."

He looks down and after a second shakes his head. His hand are flying across the whole of the piano's keys.

Laying back my head I look up at the over head lights. All but two are off. I wish suddenly they were all on. To feel the warm heat of the lights caressing me as I gasp out my joy in music. Turning my head I look across the empty seat. Oh how the desire to have them be not empty fills me suddenly. To be here, him playing, me moaning to a packed crowd of people.

I let that fantasy play as he moves from song to song. I lay my head back and grind my hips and ass towards him, driving them into the music. I hear the great works of a dozen of composers, some I know. Chopin, Rachmaninoff, Brahms. Others I can not guess at but I bless them for the power of their composing and the skill at which this, their very Avatar after death, can brings them back to life to give me pleasure. That the great Masters of Music are having their way with me comes to me then. Oh, what a thought to be taken with as I shift on the piano top. Sweat and my passion have made the wooden top under my ass wet, I slip and slide easily, my feet firmly planted.

Faster and faster he plays, harder and harder his hands hit the key notes. Driving them into the keys so hard I feel them almost like they are touching me. Every note running across my body, music licks at me, caresses me, it reaches into me and takes hold of me. I bring my hands to my breast and squeeze and twist at my nipples till they are sore. It feels so good the more I do it the more I want to do it.

"Harder." I beg him as I feel myself growing close.

The classics start to fall away as the heart and root of his oldest teachings start to surface. The jazz piano playing of his grandfather comes back alive under his hands.

Sitting up I press my wet lips down onto the hot wood as hard as I can. I'm looking him in the eyes our lips separate by only feet. He stands up in a rush, the stool behind him goes clattering away. His eyes are all over me as he is all but attacking the piano. I feel it building in my body, in my core, in my heart.

"Oh my god Chris, I'm going to cum. Oh yes. Oh you've done it!"

As I feel the breaking waves of pleasure riding up the musical notes. I clutch at the piano trying to hold myself still but cant help but squirm. I want to feel all the more of it's beauty, even while I grind into the wood, that slick glossy wood that rubbing my lips like a lovers tongue. No toy, not finger, nor hand has ever had me this balanced between need and desire.

A scream of primal lust tears it's way from my mouth as I fall over the edge and start to drown in his powerful playing. Music lifts me out of my body to float. I'm left hanging by wires of sex and desire to the shivering, twitching, bit of flesh that is all but weeping with the sweet agony of desires satisfied after so many a long night's wishing.

As the music ends I sink back down onto the wooden top, floating softly into several moments of warm darkness.

When my eyes slowly open I look to him. His hands have left the keys. They rest on the wood just in front of my open wet sex, palms flat holding him. He is leaning forwards till his crotch is all but driven into the piano.

He is panting for air.

I sit up till my face is right in front of his. With a smile I close the distance my lips finding those lips that I have desired to kiss for more than half my life. His breath is hot, his face flushed with that same heat as my hands catch him and pull his head to my lips harder.

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byMSTarot© 6 comments/ 10377 views/ 4 favorites

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