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Alex hated this hour, this intervening hour. He wished they could get it out of the way at once – but Mrs. Hague insisted on an hour of carols, an hour’s break, and then a further hour. He didn’t even get paid for the hour inbetween, or any food – not normally at least. That’s why this time Alex decided he was fed up of this gig, and was going to go join the party. He accompanied this choir quite often, and had got to know some of the guys quite well. They couldn’t believe it when he got up to leave the old kitchen where they were penned for the break. They were riling him up about getting caught, but Alex knew secretly they were just jealous; they had to wear silly cassocks and would never be able to mingle – the time had come to take his chances.
With some trepidation he made his way down the hall, but a couple were wandering behind him, so he had to stroll nonchalantly out into the main room. There must have been a hundred, maybe more, people there, all talking in excited voices. It was the run up to Christmas, and there were only a few more working days left – the mulled wine was lowering inhibitions all around. The heat in the room was almost unbearable, everyone was glazed in a layer of sweat. Alex had played these carols hundreds of times before, and knew them by heart, which left him time to gaze around the room. There were plenty of girls at the party; Mrs. Hague might be getting a bit long in the tooth, but she was a fine woman in her day, and still liked to be surrounded by beautiful people. The finest reds and golds were out in force tonight, all the dresses were festive, quite a feast for his eyes. But one stuck out, and his gaze now fixed upon it across the room. The dress was quite unremarkable when compared to some that were present; plain, short and red. It was the perfect amber legs and arms protruding from it which held him transfixed. He had to move in order to gain a better view, but was it well worth it. This girl was something special, deep brown hair fell about her long neck onto her shoulders and her eyes sparkled as she laughed, surrounded by three men competing for her attention. As she turned, she caught Alex’s eye and held it for a moment before moving to talk to somebody else. Alex could do nothing but stare, bedazzled.
The gaze was dropped in angst; Alex heard the unmistakably grating strains of Mrs. Hague behind him, and dived into the nearest doorway. He stood rigidly pressed against the wall, but soon was chuckling at himself, after all, why would anyone come in this darkened room during a party. To his relief, Mrs. Hague’s voice moved to the far side of the other room, still piercing through the crowd. Brain decided he’d probably be best off going back to the kitchens and facing the ridicule of the other musicians, rather canlı bahis than take the risk of being caught. He was so desperate to get another glimpse of the girl in the red dress again, but then he could always watch out for her while he was playing. He was just about to slip back into the corridor when, as his eyes grew accustomed to the light, he made out the unmistakable shape of a grand piano in the far corner of the room. In the other room he had been playing an upright, incongruously placed by the doorway; a horrid instrument with no tone. This looked to be something quite different.
Alex walked over to this piano; afraid to turn on the light, he instead drew back the curtain and let a small pool of moonlight fall upon the instrument. A Steinway, and from the carvings on the lid it was an early model, worth hundreds of thousands. As for the sound; he knew the tone would be amazing. It was rare he even got a chance to see an instrument like this, let alone play one. He told himself he would just tinkle a little, and should he get caught, he could just claim he was practising. He threw his jacket on a chair, pulled back the stool and adjusted it slightly. His fingers tentatively stroked the keys, the ivory absorbing the sweat from his fingertips. Nervously he played a few notes, and even quietly the tone was fabulous. He might never again have the chance to play such a wonderful instrument and started, very slowly, to play a few chords. Closing his eyes, he moulded the music into a variation by Rachmaninov. Some of the most romantic music ever written, he often played it on a piano he was virgin to, and this instrument responded very well.
Just as the second phrase began, something brought him from his dream, a smell he thought, a subtle perfume as he took deep languorous breaths in time with the music. His eyes flicked open, but nobody was at the door. Something was different, though, he was sure he hadn’t pushed it to. He took his fingers from the keys, and was about to stand when, behind him, and just above a whisper, he heard, “Please play.” The voice stunned him, partly in shock that someone had slipped in unnoticed, but mainly the creamy, angelic tone of voice. He started to turn to see who was there, but as his shoulders shifted, the girl spoke again, with more urgency, “No, please, just play. Please.”
Alex was confused, but had no doubt what he was going to do. He felt nervous, a different kind to before, this was excitement, not fear of reprisal. He started the variation again, with a little more confidence, and let the full texture of the instrument fill the room. He heard a rustle and then the cold sound of a key turning in a lock, juxtaposed with the lush sound of the piano. He began the second phrase again, and he knew she was bahis siteleri standing behind him once more, he could sense her, smell the same intoxicating perfume, more stringent now, coupled with a more human smell. The hairs on the back of his neck rose a little, and he felt blood pumping to all parts of his body, his heart racing as the tempo of the music moved on. Another rustle behind him, but this was different, he knew she had not moved. He felt something be draped around his neck, cold against his flushed skin. It felt strange, the softness of a silk scarf. He glanced downwards, and was the loops of a dress, the exact same rose red colour from the girl’s dress outside.
His heart leapt, and the phrase startled, as he eagerly rushed a few notes through the throbbing central passage. The dysfunctional rhythm was accompanied by a slow “tut, tut, tut…” from behind, and he regained his concentration, desperate to find the phrase again. He did so, and perfectly matching red pants soared over his head and landed on the end of the piano, the bra tumbled over the empty music desk. His vision blurred, but all that mattered to him now was the music, which grew and grew in passion. Her hands were on him now, at first massaging his shoulders, but soon caressing his torso and moving down. He sat bolt upright, struggling to reach the keys, as she untucked his shirt and slipped her hand past the belt of his trousers. She uttered a little moan of pleasure as she felt his hard, rigid member. He strained at her touch, looking down he could only see her slender bronzed arm snaking across his chest.
The growth of the music was tremendous as it moved relentlessly to the climatic passage. He had never played this well, she moved around to the front of the piano stool, but he didn’t dare look. His eyes were firmly closed, following the invisible line of the music as she impatiently unzipped his fly and released his manhood. She began to suck the tip, and he nearly lost the phrase, her tongue darting in and out, tickling him. She bit gently down on the engorged flesh and ran her tongue along the length of his erection. His back arched back giving her more space, and he heard the music he knew so well as an audience, hearing himself play, manically, desperately. Slowly and deliberately, she took his penis fully inside her while Alex desperately pushed the music forward, aiming for climax. He couldn’t move, fixed to the stool, but loved the feel of her fucking him with her mouth. The groans of pleasure as she relaxed the back of her throat told him that she was enjoying it as much as he was. He had never felt such pleasure, such intense excitement which grew and grew. He was sure he should have climaxed by now, but instead the music took him forward, and climaxed itself, bahis şirketleri in a tumbled arpeggio of notes which fell to the final chords of the piece.
In the warm silence she rose up, in front of the keys, and he was able to study her body fully for the first time. She leant over him a little, and whispered, “Nobody has ever played this piano that way before. Not like that. Not for me.” Her golden breasts swung in his face, and instinctively he moved to kiss her erect nipple, sucking it and tweaking it with his tongue. His hand, still shaking from playing, reached between her legs, to the moist passage between her thighs. She had waited long enough and he would torment her with anticipation no more. He placed his fingers inside her, massaging her clitoris with his thumb. His skill at the piano was as well suited to her. She was an instrument of beauty, herself emitting rapturous tones of pleasure and swaying to her own inner rhythm, which he massaged as he did the keys of the piano. She trembled as long-awaited orgasm burst over her like the crash of timpani. She pulled back, the curve of her bum pressing against some keys, playing a chord no fingers could produce. She reached for his still rigid cock and whispered, “Take me. Take me now,” again a glint in her eye, this time magnified, desperate.
He stood and she placed her feet on the stool behind him, opening her cavity further. As her weight shifted her buttocks pressed more notes, passionately diatonic. Alex thrust himself inside her, the warmth enveloping him with a pleasure greater than any music could produce. She gasped with pleasure as he thrust backwards and forwards, gyrating in rhythm with each other, the tempo increasing and increasing. This time the orgasm came in waves and she reached desperately sideways with her hands, pressing high and low notes together, but now the sounds were disjointed from their bodies as they collided together, both coming as the sound echoed in the empty, high-ceilinged room. After the echo, a moment of absolute silence passed as they embraced, glistening together.
The stillness was broken by a new voice, a gong, and Mrs. Hague’s announcement, “The carols shall recommence.” The girl slid back the stool, and at still no more of a whisper said, “Hadn’t you better go an play some more.” The twinkle was still there, satiated, and she slipped the dress from about his neck and effortlessly slid it over her slender naked body.
Speechless, he watched as she glided gracefully to the door and slipped out into the corridor, looking as pristine as when he had first seen her; perhaps her hair a little ruffled. He redid his fly, grabbed his jacket and ran to the room, slinking onto stage as the choir took their places. He anxiously glanced around for her, and there she was talking in a new group of people, effortlessly, beautifully laughing and joking with them all.
“Any requests?” the choir-master called out. “O come all ye faithful” called out the girl in the short red dress.
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