The moonlight shining through the window illuminated the bedroom like daylight, making it impossible to sleep. Truth be told, I had been tossing and turning all night, full of nervous energy that needed to be channelled into something productive.

Tonight was the night. Recital night. The culmination of months of meticulous practice. I was ready, but needed to calm my anxious nerves.

I threw on my sweats and a T-shirt, grabbed my scores and my keys, and headed for my car. There was a peaceful calm in the pre-dawn air, the coolness making me shiver. I made it all the way to the theatre without encountering another car. Most houses along the way were still enveloped in darkness. The only activity was at the fire station, which was located beside the theatre in our sleepy town.

Using my key to open the stage door, I stepped into the warm light from the offices. Following the hallway to the stage, I found the switch for the single spotlight over the grand piano, turning it on low. The snap echoed through the empty theatre as it hummed to life, casting a warm, soft glow over the piano.

I made my way over to it, slowly drawing back the heavy protective cover, undressing the beautiful, polished ebony finish. My quivering hair fingers traced over the gold leaf letters on the fallboard, which glistened under the low light. They were the only colour in the darkened theatre. Pulling out the bench, I took my place behind the keys and took a deep, steadying breath.

The music began to flow, stiff and disjointed at first, but soon I settled into it and all the nervous energy disappeared, replaced by a growing confidence. I knew the music. I was ready. My fingers worked through the movements from memory.

The silence of the theatre allowed me to focus, only occasionally being broken by the sound of sirens leaving the fire station next door. The startling noise broke my concentration and allowed me to work on recovering it.

As I was playing, I sensed a change in the air - the kind of change that happens as a door opens, creating a breeze, like a vacuum sucking out the air. I sensed a presence, rather than saw it. There was someone in the theatre, but I didn’t stop playing.

After several minutes, I had forgotten about my audience, that is, until I sensed movement behind me. The faint smell of smoke and musk hung in the air, awakening my senses and raising goosebumps on my arms. Emerging from the darkness like an apparition, he stepped closer to my back until I could feel the heat of his body behind mine.

His hands reached out to rest on my shoulders, the surprise of his touch making me temporarily pause my playing. Resuming was my silent approval. His hands began to glide down my arms, his rough callouses set my smooth skin on fire. As his hands reached my wrists, I saw the deep soot stains - his hands were clean yet ingrained with marks of his profession.

He began to nibble on my ear as his hands moved back up my arms and cupped my breasts, gently squeezing them, his thumb and index finger pinching my nipples, which were already hard and protruding through my T-shirt. In my haste, I hadn’t worn a bra this morning.

Groaning in my ear as he discovered my braless state, his hands moved beneath my armpits and lifted me to a standing position. He grabbed the hem of my T-shirt and pulled it over my head, tossing it onto the floor. Then he spun me around to face him as he pulled the bench out further and sat down, his face right a breast level.

Sucking my nipple into his mouth, he began pushing my sweatpants and panties down over my hips until they fell to my ankles. His teeth nibbled, his tongue flicked, his fingers worked their magic over my flesh as he devoured me.

Standing up, he placed his hands at my waist and lifted me to sit on the lid of the piano. He pulled the bench in closer and sat down, his lips kissing their way up my leg and over my sensitive thighs, leaving a trail of bite marks.

I spread my legs wide, my feet crashing on the keys below them. His lips finally found my slit as he lay delicate kisses on my lips, followed closely by his tongue. Finding my clit, he began to circle it with his tongue before his teeth locked onto it and began to suck.

Before long, I was writhing on top of the piano, hungry for more. He felt this and stood up again, lifting me back to the floor, but this time he turned me around and bent me over the lid. I heard the sound of his zipper lowering, and then felt the tip of his cock pressing into my sodden cunt.

I gasped as I felt him pushing into me, filling me with his hot, throbbing cock. His hips began thrusting harder and harder, the urgency building. Every thrust pushed my thighs into the keys, creating our own musical masterpiece, crescendoing towards the climax.

With one final thrust, he exploded inside me. I could feel every twitch, every spasm as my muscles clenched around him. All too soon, he slipped out of me, zippered up his pants, and laid a soft kiss on my back. And then he disappeared into the shadows he came from.

I retrieved my clothes, got dressed, and sat back on the bench, staring at the piano, almost like nothing had ever happened. I started to wonder if it really had. Perhaps it was just a daydream…

I raised my fingers to the keys and froze. Little black flecks of soot lay on the sparkling white keys…