All seems familiar to her. Night after night, she takes her usual seat at the empty table to observe him. To feel his energy, to satiate her longing for him.
Sweet and powerful. Pernod. Iced. Warmed her aching. Albeit it for only a brief amount of time. Hard to tell if it was the alcohol that encouraged flames between her thighs or if it was the sound of the piano that invited her yearning. Both have their place. Subtle tones of minor keys stir more than the heart.
She was no stranger to his hands, had studied them for a long time. How she desired their soft questioning upon her body. Their flexible and nimble caress upon her flustered face. Such hands have a hundred stories to tell, a thousand songs to unleash upon the flesh. A million chords to experiment with.
She grounded her attention. The bar was close to empty now, as always at this time. Two people remained. A female, tall with long black hair, stood by the bar. Hands cupped over her red wine quietly observing her partner. Not as tall as herself, she stood beside the woman, touching her arm, playing with her long hair. Velvet toned, as dark as the night sky without a single star. They shared a kiss, oblivious to the sound of the piano.
How could they be so unaware? Hammer strikes steel strings and creates a desire in her like no other. How could they not be moved? Stirred to the brink of obsession? How could they not wish to know the master of this sound more? Feel his hands, taste his fingers? Place them over parts that she wished only for him to touch. Secret places that breathed fire and summoned the deepest of sensation.
Still, the two women continued to kiss, not as delicate as you would think. Women have a rage inside of them that is like no other. Passion can unleash their dragon. It can devour them, place them in limbo. Passion is something that could easily be seen a woman’s destroyer! It consumes, head spins, mouth waters, thoughts become infuriated with energy.
She changed her position. Still the piano played a hazy tune in the background. Hazy and yet alive. Alive and yet sedating. But most of all, seducing. Lower now, she slid further down her seat, unbuttoning her jeans. Hand on her pale stomach, she felt the natural curves of her body. She moved her hand lower, no underwear, easy to feel the wetness already there. She had to possess him and it had to be tonight.
All light had been lowered now, only herself remained. The two females had left and she had not even witnessed their departure. Still, she could not help think about how they would go home together, become one together, kiss and whisper tender encouragement to each other. How they would drive each other insane with promises of pleasure. How they would wrap their long legs around each other and become totally lost to their surroundings.
She could bear it no longer. She removed her fingers from inside her jeans, she needed him. The piano was reaching its climax before her, it enticed her, moved her. She had to act or the moment would be lost. Too long had she needed this. He continued to play in expert motion. She took leave of her table, there was no one to stop her now. He often played long after everybody had left, long after they were sleeping, he would caress the keys and make the tune his.
Taking her shoes off, she moved to the side of the bar. He remained unaware of her movement, completely lost in fluidity. His concentration was strict but relaxed. Such expertise. She was close enough now to see his hands moving, to feel the wood of the piano. To feel its resonance as hammer struck steel.
He carried on enraptured by the keys. His hands firm but relaxed enough to keep a flow of sound exciting her. She moved closer still, this time, behind the piano. He carried on regardless, now with eyes closed and head thrown slightly back. He had no need to see the keys, it came naturally to his soul. His hands knew where to touch, how delicately and how firmly. The music continued.
How she wanted to place her lips upon his whilst his eyes were closed. It was all she craved at that moment. To feel his tongue gently and slowly push into her mouth. A French kiss with just the right amount of devotion.
Raising one leg, she climbed onto the piano. Still, he continued to seduce the keys, making it grant him pleasure. Playing only for him. She lay on her stomach, moving forward with ease on the polished surface. The vibration of the strings excited her to an unbearable point now. And then, for a moment, she lay motionless. Merely observing him.
Close up, he was even more appealing. His complete and utter devotion to his playing mesmerised her. She looked at his hands again, his chest heaving heavily. How she wanted to feel his heartbeat beneath her fingers.
She turned to lie on her side, it was all too much. The vibration, his face, his hands and chest. The quiet sound of his quickened breathing from the exertion of his playing. She felt her stomach once more, burning with enthusiasm, the way that only a woman can feel. Internal frenzy about to be unleashed.
Her hand moved down, inside her jeans, still unbuttoned. She felt her thigh, slightly trembling. At this point he opened his eyes, raised his head. Noticed her, continued playing.
“Play for me.”
He stared at her features as he manipulated another tune for her. The shape of her face, the blue of her eyes. The fall of her hair, soft and red over her shoulders. Her cleavage visible. He became distracted but the final note had to be played. It must be brought to an end. If only so he could turn his attention towards her.
Delicate fingers ran up and down the whiteness and then the dark, final note, played with one finger. He sat still, paused. Head raised, eyes closed once more. The echo had to disperse before he could move. He owed it to his playing.
Her eyes still fixed upon him. He stood from the piano stool and pushed it away to the right of him. She raised herself towards him. Legs apart, ready for his embrace. Moving forward, he pulled her to him. Chest to chest, holding tightly. Her legs astride him now.
The flush to her face met with his unshaven cheek. He kissed her neck, her left ear, whispered to her. Electrified, tingling, she whispered back to him.
“I need you.”
He stepped backwards to look into her eyes. At the same time he gently pushed his large hand into her jeans. Her clitoris, swollen, was more than ready but he wanted to make this last as long as he could. Taking his hand away he felt her lips, sliding his wet fingers into her open mouth. He then kissed her. Tongue over tongue, lips in anticipation.
He felt her breasts. Nipples already hard, waiting for more. He gave them the satisfaction they needed. He placed his mouth over them, ran his tongue around them. She breathed heavily. Aside from her neck, her nipples were her most sensitive part.
She could feel a whirlpool inside of herself. She pushed his hand into her jeans once more. His finger now inside her. She moaned quietly in his ear. Her breath deep and expecting. She rocked herself back and forth in motion with his finger. Quicker and quicker, he kissed her stomach as she leaned back. Her eyes looking deep into his. Deeper, his finger moved inside of her. Harder, until she arched her body in orgasm. Breathing slower now.
He removed her jeans, gently parting her pale thighs. Kissing each one and running his tongue up and down them. She could bear it no longer. She moved her body up to his mouth.
Her hands on her breasts as he used his tongue. Slowly, calmly and with circular motion. She could feel herself ready to lose control. More pressure now, tongue up and down. A pause. Wild petals opening for him. Rivers flowing. And in that moment the dam released its hold. His face, moist to the touch.
Trembling legs reflected on polished wood. The piano a silent watcher.
“Your turn.” she urged him.
“I have had my turn, to please you through music and this way is more than enough for me.”
“Then make love to me.”
“There is more than one way to make love, which do you desire?”
“All of them.”
He sat, once more, on the piano stool, lifeless keys staring back at him. As she climbed from the piano, her bare feet caused a random note to strike. He was exhilarated.
“Do that again for me.”
She placed a bare toe on the keys, again, another random chord to strike his heart.
More than enough. He pulled her down from the piano and she sat on top of him, her breasts level with his face. A slight perfume, not too overpowering.
She began to move on top him, his hands around her back. He licked between her breasts whilst moving his hands behind her.
This moment, movement. Heart to heart, passion to insane longing was what she wanted. He needed it too, needed her fragrance. Her hair falling around him, her neck near him to place a kiss upon. To run his tongue over.
Mouth to mouth. Arms around each other. Pace unrecognised, of no importance. Sweet pernod swimming through her veins.
Starlight. His breathing captured. Intense. Eclipse.
Shadow of lust’s backbone. His body pulsating. A throb. Becoming dimmer. Dimmer. Gone.
“Thank you.” she spoke softly.
“Thank you.” he replied.
His fingers ran along the piano once more.
"This final note, shall be for you."
A minor chord echoed through the room, they both sat in silence, absorbing the resonance.
For how long?
How long can a chord hold reverb?
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