night0flust (night0flust) wrote in sordid_secrets,

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poppin' my lj cherry

hello any of you that may be reading this. I'm new at this, so don't be too harsh!

I don't think that he knew I was there. If he did, he pretended not to notice. I had crept in, carefully opening the screen door of his private practice shed. It was shaded by the thick pines and oaks, set back from the main gravel entrance. It was private so that he could practice in peace. When I had learned this, I immediately smiled smugly to myself thinking, "Perfect."

We had grown to be cordial to one another, and gradually friends. I knew him through his sister, Amanda, a college friend of mine, and we decided to spend the summer together in her father's Berkshire house. It was reminiscent of Gatsby's estate, minus the partying. It was tranquil. Embedded within the forest, led up to by a gravel road. The unexpected flash of the sloping green grass lawn had startled me at first, along with the immensity of the mansion. It was perfection.

His name was Kyle. He had boarded in a french school in Quebec for most of his child-hood, so he had that handsome french look to him, as well as the lovable french quirkiness and appreciation for all things beautiful. He had sharp hazel eyes that could burn me or leave me melting, and strong hands. Pianist hands.

He was a pianist.

Need I say more.

Over the weeks we had grown closer. He was goofy, strong, naive in some ways, determined, hard on himself, private at times but also very outgoing. Whenever he had a darker thought I noticed. His fierce hazel eyes would deepen a shade and downcast, shielded by his thick eyelashes and brow.

I wanted him.

We were close enough. I was comfortable with him. Very much so. We could talk about anything together. We understood one another. I had been through many of the similar difficulties he had. He had an artist's soul. He made me laugh. He made me think.

I had laid asleep many a night, fatasizing over him. Dreaming of his hands touching me where no man had touched be before, lusting for his taste and smell that ignited my senses. I found lay there, fingering myself into an orgasm, imagining that my finger was his penis, fucking me.

When Amanda left for the day to attend an local afternoon concert, I chose to lag behind, saying that I had some reading to catch up on, knowing that Kyle would be drawn away to his practice studio again.

That's how I ended up there.

I stood in the frame of the door, watching, observing, taking it all in. He was beautiful. His eyes were narrowed in concentration as they started at his fingers as they flew over the keys. The music bounced off of the sound proof walls and through my body. His back, neck, arms, hands, were tensed. He played on as I watched, transfixed by his beauty and raw being.

I inhaled quietly and inched my way forward as he played on. I placed my hands upon his shoulders and gave them a tender squeeze. He jumped and the music immediately stopped. When he saw it was only me, he let out a nervous laugh.

"You scared me!"
I grinned
"Sorry! I thought you'd heard the door open. I didn't want to disturb you, you were beautiful."
He shrugged. "It needs work."

Before he could say anymore I knew what I had to do
"turn around, you're really tense."
"no, I...I'm fine..." he stammered before I could interrupt with my hands kneading into his tense back and neck, tenderly finding all his points of stress and rubbing lovingly.

He let out a deep groan. He was enjoying this. So was I. I worked my way up to his neck, where I then removed my fingers and replace them with my mouth, my hands sliding over his shoulders onto his chest from behind. It was slight at first, but grew deeper.

Kyle sighed deeply as he traced up my arms with his hands. He spun around on the piano bench to face me, passion burning in his eyes. Wordlessly, he stood up and moved towards me. He took my cheek in his hand where he began to passionately kiss me. His dexterous hands found their way down my lower back and over my ass, where he gave me a squeeze. Damn, it felt good.

I began to unbutton his shirt, gradually, as to not disturb his kiss. His skin was smooth, and I slid the shirt off of him. He began to tug at my clothing, which wasn't very difficult to get off. My blouse soon lay on the floor as my denim miniskirt began to ride up, revealing a violet mesh thong and enough bared ass for him to get his hands on. My lace blue bra was the only thing that remained on top, barely covering my little tits.

He gained strength from the kiss. His hands squeezed and pulled at me more and more firmly, his kiss became hungrier. I wanted to quench his thirst. He could have me. I was his.

Kyle spun me around to sit on his bench, where he proceeded to unbutton my skirt and yank it off. His breathing was heavy as he gazed at my thong, and then up at me with a coy smile. He pulled it off slower than the skirt, as if to reveal what was beneath it slower.

My juices were flowing, I was wetter than I ever remember being. He was tormenting me. I just wanted him in me. He went down on his knees as I sat there spread-eagle on the bench. His eyes locked with mine as he moved his head in closer.

I felt his tongue on my clit like a bolt of electricity. Oh God, I was so wet. He was gentle and teasing at first. He ran his tongue around in circles, slurping up my juices. He began to tenderly bite in a few areas, causing me to wince in pain but long for more. Finally, he went in, and I could feel his tongue and his lips lapping at my pussy as his tongue went deeper and deeper. I couldn't take it anymore. I leaned back onto the keys of the piano, and my orgasm came at the cue of a thick cord of keys. It came in waves, light at first so that I thought it was only a minor one, but built in momentum. Soon I was screaming in pleasure, overtaken. Kyle just kept on licking. It's like he didn't want to stop.

After I'd settled down a bit and Kyle had wiped his mouth, I knew that it was his turn. I got up, grabbed him by the shoulders, while firmly kissing him. I could still taste the sour juices of my pussy on his tongue, and that heated me up even more.

I forced him to sit on the bench. He was still wearing his boxers, but I could clearly see that he'd already begun to soil them. I was going to make him wait. A tease. I slowly ran my hands up his legs, inching towards his rising cock, then back down again. I turned around for him to face my curvy ass and began to slowly grind it into his shaft, feeling the hardness against my skin, separated only by thin cotton. He whimpered. I raised my entire body up and down, grinding deeper into his crotch, bracing myself on his kneecaps. He tried to grab me at times, but I ordered him not to touch me, and he obeyed.

I finally turned back around, standing before him, smirking. I reached one hand behind me and unclasped my bra, letting it fall to the floor as I watched his eyes scan my naked body before him. He couldn't take it anymore.

He stood up and rushed towards me, pinning me against the wall. He was rough, and I loved it. His hands grabbed me everywhere. His finger slipped into my slit and began to furiously finger me. His lips locked with mine, his breathing heavy, until his mouth began to travel down my neck, sucking and biting gently. He went lower, one hand cupping my breast as he began to bite my nipple teasingly, and then suck on it, making sure to leave a mark. I just stood there, basking in it.

I couldn't take it anymore. I pushed him back, and yanked down his boxer shorts. His shaft stood there, a bit of pre-cum dripping from the tip. I fell to my knees and began to lick at his juices first, taking little my little into my mouth. One of my hands played with his sagging balls as the other held his shaft. I licked at every inch of his dick, and then took it all into my mouth, repressing my urge to gag or pull away. My lips locked firmly around his shaft as my head bobbed back and forth. He moaned loudly as his fingers ran through my hair, guiding my head. His moans began to grow louder, but I pulled away.

I looked up at him, licking the juices off of my lips. He wanted me. He needed me. His eyes were burning. He gently helped me up, holding me around the waste, and laid me down across the bench. He came in over me, where he kissed me once in a deep, yearning kiss, and then looked downwards to guide his dick in. I felt it in me, throbbing and hot, my spit still coating it. Oh damn he felt so good. I wanted all of him in me. I was flushed and hungry. I wanted him. He braced himself with his arms on either side of me.

He moved inside of me. In and out. In and out. In and out. Slowly at first, but gaining momentum. His burning eyes locked with mine, full of emotions and pleasure, passion and caring. He came in for what I thought was a kiss, but then began to bite my neck again. I had my arms wrapped around him, my fingernails scraping across his back.

The bench began to rock as his moans became louder. They were deep and husky, muttering words in french and english beneath his breath. I felt content. I wanted him to cum inside of me, all of it. The thought of how I was pleasuring him stimulated me further as I began to tingle and squirm. I couldn't take it anymore. My groans became screams of pleasure and delight as I blurted out the words "FUCK ME, BABY! c'mon! FUCK ME!" and fuck me he did. He grew faster and faster until I screamed for minutes on end, as he yelled in lower tones and emptied load after load into my tingling cunt.

After we were done, he lapped up my twat and I his cock just for fun and then I sat there beside him in his cotton button down shirt as he played a Beethoven Piano concerto for me.

Just to be cliche...for the rest of the summer...we continued to make beautiful music together.

again, this is my first time at anything of this sort, so your thoughts would be greatly appreciated!

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