Piano Lesson

Isabella Chrystin has played piano for years now, each lesson sharpening her touch. But lately, another hunger pulls at her. Her teacher has just left. Alone in the studio, she can think of nothing else. She pictures his hands on her body. The baton he forgot lies across the keys. She trails it over her nipples, her blouse already open. The cold wood puckers them tight. She slips the tip beneath the button of her pink shorts, popping it loose. The fabric falls to the floor. Her bare ass presses against the lid, smooth and cool. Her fingers slide down between her legs, brushing the slick seam of her shaved pussy. The image sharpens: him on his knees, tongue dragging slow and wet along her slit. Her own fingers follow that rhythm, sinking inside, curling, fucking in shallow pulses. Heat flares low in her belly. She strokes harder, thighs trembling against the wooden bench. Her breath breaks into short, hot gasps. She comes with a rush, muscles clenching around her hand, a soft cry slipping out. Afterwards she settles back, bare skin gleaming, and lets her fingers move across the keys once more, playing a quiet, sated little melody.