0 comments/ 19648 views/ 0 favorites Adagio By: Sateema Lunasi He has simply asked me to practice, I thought. Nothing to it. My rehearsal ended rather abruptly, and I could tell he was upset. Probably upset about my horrible performance. He must be. I tucked my violin case under my arm, the precious Stradivarius. So few of them, rare and beautiful, yet the sound I had raped from it this day was wretched. I looked up at him as the class emptied and I was surrounded my eerily empty orchestra seats, straight backed and rigid. My teacher looked at me with a raised eyebrow on his handsome face. An older man. A genius. A perfect teacher. A perfect British crisp accent in his voice. I felt low. I stood near my chair, hoping for an escape. I did not want to hear him say I was horrible. He wouldn’t say it…would he? "Maestro, I don’t feel right today. I am sorry." I offered weakly. He smiled the smile of a warm gentleman. "Never mind that. You are my best student. You are simply bored. Tell me, how can I make this music play for you, make it sing to you?" His words struck me as odd. They were awkward poetry. I fumbled with my skirt. He touched my cheek with the back of his hand, "Do you trust me?" he asked. The words hit me. I saw his lips form the words and it was sexual. It was salty and raw. I whispered "yes" but I do not think sound left me. I lipped the word. He instructed me to prepare the violin. I lifted it from the case and held it, wishing the bow were his arm. He would not love me, this perfect man. This perfect species. Not me, a young violinist with no discipline. "Play the devil’s music, darling. Play it till it burns." I shivered. I lifted the instrument to my chin, lifting the bow to strike down hard on it in the first note, the first sound to fill my brain. "Let the music come to you…yes, that is it, let the instrument play you." I closed my eyes and felt the music, the words, the notes, all burning inside me, building me up. And I felt his hand on my hip as he stood behind me, bracing me by the hips. His breath was on my neck, near my ear, and he whispered hot breath to me, "That is beautiful, darling…keep playing…" And I obeyed him. I would have walked to the end of the Earth for him! I brought the bow down slowly, melodically, in a sensual song. I felt his strong; musician’s hands grip my hips and pull me to his chest, our hips together, "Let the music make love to you…" I was caught up in him. Wanting him. He caressed my outer thighs, rubbing into them hard and tracing a light touch of fire up to the hem of my skirt. I played on. He touched my belt, my white blouse, and his hands moving up to my breasts. He opened my bra from the front latch and I trembled, still struggling to play. I closed my eyelids tight, and felt him come around to my front, standing in front of me. I felt the heat of him; the masculinity mixed with gentleness, and something that could be fierce, could be a monster. He touched my breasts, pushed up my blouse over them, caressed them, pinched them, and even slapped them lightly to flush them pink. "Beautiful, love…" he breathed against my nipples, mouth only a short space away. I played the violin as if it owned me, the music simmering in my loins, breaking me down! His lips gathered my nipples that were already hard, already aching for him, wanting his hungry kiss. He sucked at them softly at first, but when my playing slowed and I made a mistake, he bit down just hard enough to hurt me and excite me at the same time. I snapped back to attention and continued the melody, a bit faster, a bit more melancholy. His tongue circled my nipples and I felt his hand squeeze my thigh again, "Open your legs." He instructed but I was hesitant, still not daring to stop playing. He took my leg and spread it just enough to reach between and feel my inner thigh. I felt my juices stir inside me, my hips moving a little. He sucked and pulled at my nipples, his mouth hungry and his hands searching my thigh till he found the now wet spot on my thin cotton panties. I squirmed and he said, "Be still, and let me show you passion, what music should feel like. You are so young and sweet. You must taste like strawberries. You are so pink…may I taste you?" He did not wait for an answer, not that I could have given one. He pulled my panties down slowly and slipped them off my ankles. He lifted my leg and he kneeled down in front of me and placed my leg over his shoulder. I struggled to keep playing. The music came automatically now, improvised and devilish, quick, light and dramatic. My fingers moved over the strings as his fingers moved over my thighs. He found the lips under the scant little patch of pubic hair there. The secret place where no one had ever touched but myself in the darkness of my bedroom, when my mind would drift and my fingers would satisfy my own desires. His fingers were different, larger, stronger, controlling! His tongue touched my nether lips, and liquid fire spread through me. He parted the lips with his fingers and licked the pink. I was exposed! My God, I thought I would die of terror or ecstasy! The music blasted through the room, the music of a frightened girl, a deer hunted by a wolf! His tongue teased me, finding the clitoris and sucking at it, licking and sucking. I found my hips grinding into his face, my core craving him. Visions of his cock filled my brain, the thought of sucking it, licking it…and my mind obsessed with sex suddenly! All my fantasies filled my head in overload! I thought of his cock in my mouth, in my pussy, his chest against me, pussy grinding against him. I felt my body tremble violently as he sucked at my clitoris and the first orgasm rushed through me! It shook me, pounded my heart, made me lose control and I set the violin on the cherry wood desk within arm’s reach as to save myself from dropping it and shattering it. The music still played in my head as I shuddered in spasms and held to him. He backed away from me and I was startled to see his pants unbuckled and his hard, red tipped cock jutting out eight inches from his pants. It looked delicious to me and I bravely reached out to touch it, to take it between my fingers, and then to lay down and suck it, taking it in my mouth and smearing my red lipstick over my lips, over his cock. He groaned and pushed his cock deeper into my mouth. I raised up for just a second, to push my hair away from my face, and I jumped at the sight of the door open and an attractive blond man standing there transfixed. I knew him. My tutor, He was 30, and I heard Maestro’s voice say, "Andrew, come in and help me teach our pretty little student how to feel music." I shuddered again in humiliation but then was horrified to see Andrew had someone with him, Casey, the second chair violinist I worked beside every day, 24 year old Casey with deep blue eyes and a wicked smile. The two of them were enthralled. They came close to me and locked the door behind them. I saw Andrew’s face, I saw his hands move to his belt, and he released his thick cock, huge and frightening. Casey wasted no time and unfastened his trousers to show me a short but thick cock that was just slightly bent to one side. Maestro instructed me, "Suck them. Make them good and hard so they can fuck you good, darling." I nodded my head and took Casey’s cock quickly in my mouth, sucking it hard and slow, with one hand on Maestro’s cock, and one hand on Andrew’s cock. I worked them good with my hands until I felt them slippery and slick. I brought Andrew close to me and licked his eager prick, going back and forth between Casey and Andrew, then Maestro, hearing them make groaning noises, feeling their hands move over my breasts and thighs, feeling Maestro’s fingers probe my pussy. Maestro lifted me up then and laid me down on the floor, letting me straddle him on all fours, his prick touching my pussy hair. Casey moved behind Andrew and me in front of me. I took Andrew’s cock instantly in my mouth, and felt Maestro press into me, but not deep, and Casey nudged his cock into my backside. I moaned and then felt all the cocks enter me at once, one painfully pushing slowly into my anus. Oh God! This was torture! This was being impaled! I felt Maestro push his beautiful cock into my hot wet pussy, the pussy that hungered for it, that begged for it with wetness. And Andrew pumped into my mouth. Maestro bit and sucked at my nipples below me, and they all fucked me with so much passion, so much eagerness, I thought I was being consumed! I moved my hips with them, picking up a pattern that turned into an erotic dance, grinding and moving with intensity and avid lust. My virginity trickled down my inner thigh in the form of a single tiny trace of red blood, like a vein, it ran there. My teacher, my mentor, my Maestro became fiercely passionate. He became the monster I had sensed when he said, "Do you like it this way, Darling? Do you like being brutally fucked?" And these words were exciting to me! They invoked the utmost passion in me! I felt the cocks slam into me, my pussy aching with the size of it, my anus stretched and reformed, my mouth filled! I felt the motion of it, the pressure on my nipples, the soreness of them! I loved it; I slammed against them, the friction hurting, and the hardness of it! I felt filled completely! Consumed! Every orifice complete…and then the flood came. Cum in my mouth, cum in my pussy, cum in my anus and they were like soldiers in their timing. Perfect, strong and accurate. The hot, milky juice dripped from my mouth, from my hair, from my pussy, from my anus, down my thighs…and I was for the first time in my life…satisfied. Adagio For Strings To listen to the version of the titular song I had in mind as I was writing, you can find it on YouTube by searching "Adagio for Strings Samuel Barber Choral Robert Shaw". It should be the first selection. (Image is a blue CD cover with the word "Spirit".) This is my first story here. I love to write, but need feedback to improve. All constructive comments are welcome, thanks in advance! *** "Can you come here please?" I hear your call from the bedroom, though the question is really not so much a request. Curious, I walk down the hall noting that the light in the bedroom is still off. I stand in the doorway. I can see your silhouette against the streetlight that shines through the window. I reach for the switch on the wall. "I didn't say to turn on the light..." I can hear your smile, but there's an edge to your voice that stops me. Your smile widens, and you crook a finger at me, beckoning me closer to you through the darkness. My face is a mixture of amusement and confusion. You slide your hands over my arms. With a push on one side, a pull on the other, you turn me around, my back to you. I hear the faintest slipping sound, the brush of your body against my back, and then I can see no more. Smooth cool fabric settles over my eyes which had only just begun to adjust to the lack of light in the room. A soft tug, my head pulled back as you knot the cloth behind me. The briefest hint of breath across the back of my neck, the sweep of lips, and then it's gone, replaced by the soft feathery touch of the tails of fabric you used to blind me. I can hear the soft padding of your feet as you circle me. Your fingers gently pull the hem of my shirt from the waistband of my pants. The incidental contact of skin on skin as a fingertip moves over my side is suddenly electric. I feel pressure and movement in front of me, your hands working on my belt... the clasp at the front of my pants. I move instinctively to help, only to have you grab my hands and move them to my sides. Suddenly I feel nothing, hear nothing... Moments pass and just as I begin to wonder where you've gone you begin yet again. I feel the front of my pants peeled open, the buckle of my belt against the front of my thigh, but they are pushed down no further. A light touch strokes once across the line of my shaft, hard in my boxers. Touch withdrawn again, I hear you move around me, my head cocked to one side, listening intently, following you. Warm fingers slide up inside the back of my shirt and rake teasingly back down my skin. Your tongue traces down the curve of my neck, and a light breath over it makes me shudder. I feel the hem of my shirt lift, urging my arms up as you lift it off of me, careful not to disturb the blindfold. Without warning there is pressure on the inside of my thigh, like caressing fingers stroking upwards... but not far enough... and then gone.... Heartbeats later, the same on the other side. Pauses between touches like voids, each time my breath stops, trying to sense where you might be. My whole body tingles trying to anticipate the next sensation. After what seems like ages, I feel the fabric of my remaining clothing tugged down my legs. Compliantly, I step away from the pool of discarded things at my feet. I feel your fingers lace through mine, pulling me toward the bed and I climb up. Your hands push and guide me, settling me onto my back in the center of the bed. My cock is hard, pressed against my stomach. Again I follow your sound, a drawer opens and shuts, and footsteps approach again. I flinch slightly, surprised, as gentle fingers brush my ears, covering them. Headphones playing the soft strains of choral music, Samuel Barber's Adagio for Strings. It is not loud, but it is enough to cover any of the quiet movements in the room. Suddenly I am short two senses. The bed moves beneath me. I savor the familiar taste of your lips as you kiss me deeply. Your tongue moves between my lips. I can feel the soft tendrils of your hair across my face before you pull away. The tickle of your hair over my skin moves down my body, over my collarbone, my chest. The warmth of lips presses against my stomach, teeth nip me teasingly. Once again your body slips away. It seems like an eternity and again I am left wondering where you have gone... The bed moves again. I feel the heat of a pair of legs straddling one of mine, the brush of fingers around the base of my cock, lifting it to moist lips. As the tip of my cock is engulfed, my whole body tenses, and nearly lifts from the bed because at that same time another pair of lips again brushes against my mouth. A groan, confusion and a sudden spark of realization as I lay back. My whole body pressed into the mattress as two mouths, two sets of warm lips travel over me. Four soft hands stroke over my body, pressing against my stomach, my chest, stroking over my arms as I lay there, trying to keep still under their attentions. The warm mouth lifts away from my cock for a moment. A hand, then two depart. I feel an extreme cold over my chest, wet, dripping down to my stomach. An ice cube, I guess, followed quickly by the lips that were pressed around my cock only a moment ago. My breath comes quickly now, my increased attention and focus seeming to require physical effort. It is hard to keep track, the tongues, the fingers, and I give up trying to untangle the sensations and just give in to them. My head tips back as I groan, face flushed, breath ragged. I feel movement around my head, and a familiar musky scent breaches my consciousness. Soft moist skin moves against my lips and I lean up, hungrily lapping at the perfumed folds. My arms wrap around soft thighs, and a low growl comes from deep inside me as my cock is once again enveloped by a warm mouth. A rhythm begins, the hips over my face rocking and grinding against my mouth as I flick my tongue, moving in time with the lips on my shaft which press and glide over my skin. At times my face is buried so deeply that I'm left gasping for air when the pressure finally lifts, and at just those moments I can feel the head of my shaft sliding into the entrance of that tight wet throat. The tempo increases. My cock is momentarily left bare, and then I feel that second body moving over me. I drive my tongue deeply into the cunt above me as my hips buck upwards, spearing myself deeply into the waiting depths. The music swells through the headphones and I am lost in a sea of touch and taste, bodies writhing over me, pressing you deeper into the mattress, using me. Every inch of skin is coated in a thin sheen of sweat, salty and hot. Legs tense beneath my hands, and my tongue is flooded with sweet liquid, muscles convulse and shiver around my head. The pressure is pulled away, and replaced by a soft tongue lapping at my jaw. A moment later the walls of the pussy surrounding my dick spasm and grow impossibly tighter. I grunt at the exertion of trying to hold myself back from my own release, but the pulsing heat allows me no more than another thrust, then two. I cum hard, hot streams of it filling that needy cunt. The culmination of so long being on edge, every nerve so tight since the blindfold was slipped over my eyes. I find myself entangled in a pile of sweaty sated bodies and stroking fingers as everyone's breath slows and muscles, at long last, stop shaking. Hands slip away, one at a time. Fingers thread into mine, urging me up off of the bed, leading me a few steps. The cool tile of the bathroom floor is smooth and familiar against my bare feet. The headphones are removed from my head by soft hands and I hear the click of the door shut behind me. I remove the blindfold, and step into the shower, still in a daze, washing away the sweat and fluids from my body. The steam fills the room, and as my mind clears with it, I begin to wonder if it was all a dream. I walk back into the bedroom, towel around my waist. You're sitting on the bed under a lamp in your ratty pajamas and reading glasses engrossed in a book. Outside I hear an engine start, and I peek through the window. As I watch taillights drive away through the rain streaked pane, an impish smile crosses your face followed by a soft blush. Was it just a dream? The headphones lay on the bed, music player still running, scrolling the name of the song that's still playing in my ears... You put your book down and crook a finger at me, purring softly with a wicked grin. "Can you come here please?"