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Piano Lessons - How It Began

"Is This Possible?"

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When my husband left me, saying he has fallen in love with another, I felt numb. I couldn't believe it. But, I had no time to wallow in the pain I felt. I had two kids now to take care of, alone, full-time. I decided a part-time job, along with the job I already had was the answer. I could do it at home as well. Piano lessons had always brought me joy. I let it slip as the children got older, focusing more on them.

***

Now it is a year later, my husband is now my ex, my kids are stable, happy teenagers. And I've found a balance of work and trying to have a social life again. A few of my friends have introduced me to online dating, not that I've taken it to the step of actually meeting anyone in person. But, I'm not completely against it either.

"Mum? Earth to the mother-ship! Ma!?” Josephine, my daughter, yanks me out of my day dream.

“What, huh, oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart. What did you say?” I continue to make my lunch, as I focus on her babbling before getting to the point.

“You promised, remember. You're still going to make the cupcakes for cheer squad, right?”

My beautiful, blonde haired, blue eyed daughter looks at me. She is a few inches taller than me, I expect her to grow a few more inches before shes at full height. She looks just like her father in every way. She's just sixteen, though she's been through a lot, she's the light of my life. Always positive, refuses to let anyone drag her down. Even through the divorce, she stood beside me, supporting me. Josephine refuses to speak or have any contact with her father. Thankfully he doesn't push it either. Though they were close, two peas in a pod kind of close, while she was growing up.

“Of course. But thank you for reminding me. I'm going to swing by the store right after work. You need them at what, eight, you said?”

“Yeah. You're the best mum!” She says this wrapping her arms around me, hugging me tightly.

“Wow, listen to you sucking up,” Jasper, my oldest walks into the kitchen to catch the tale end of our conversation.

He too is tall like his father, but the looks stop there. Everything else is all me. Black hair, steel gray eyes, far too skinny for our own good. Though he works out, to add some muscle onto his lean body. He was picked on a lot when he was younger. Now that he is seventeen, he cares less, but still keeps fit. He is my more moody, dark child. Though he and Christopher (my ex husband) were never all that close, he feels abandoned by him.

“Not even, Jasper. Don't start with me. I'm in a good mood today,” Josephine retorts.

“Aren't you always, you have like a pocket full of sunshine at all time,” he says between mouthfuls of apple.

“You should try getting some of your own.”

I watch them go back and forth, not getting in between or taking sides. I have learned to let them battle it out on their own. Unless someone gets hurt, which has, thankfully never gotten that far. But, it could happen, they are siblings after all. They were really close growing up, we all were in our own ways. Though we were never the Cleavers.

By the time we are in the car to go to school and work, they're giggling and talking about the school dance in a few weeks. It doesn't take much for them to forget silly arguments. Once they're dropped off, I exhale, taking a moment of silence before getting into work. I even shut off the radio, listening to the sound of the tires hitting the pavement and the occasional car zoom by.

My job is far from glamorous as one would think, I'm the receptionist at a radio station, but it pays well enough.

The people I work with are also great. It's a rather small station, we have about twenty employees at any given time, not including the boss and manager. Meaning, everyone knows everyone, and their business. Thankfully, there isn't any drama or catty work relationships.

“Good morning, Genevieve,” Marcus greets me, as we meet up at the entrance door. “How are you doing this fine morning?” Marcus is three years older than my forty two, though he looks a lot older, due to being a heavy smoker.

“I'm wonderful. It's Friday, how can I not be? I get to make cupcakes this afternoon, I have a lesson and then catch up on my Dvr stuff, and the kids are going out for the evening. How are you?”

I've been working at the station for a little over eleven years now. Once both the kids were in school full-time, I thought it best to have a job. Christopher wasn't exactly pleased about that, he wanted a little house wife. But it looks like I made the right choice in finding a job and having that savings account that I didn't inform him of. My mother always said, better safe than sorry. If she were still around, she would have said “I told you so.” Which makes me smile every time I think of that memory.

“I'm just fine, Miss. I'm looking forward to my weekend. I'm going to visit my daughter and her newborn. She gave birth last night. I can't believe I'm a grandfather. I'm too young for this,” his laughter that follows, says otherwise.

“Weren't you like sixteen yourself when you had your first kid, Marcus?” I jab him with my elbow playfully.

“Sure as hell don't feel like it's been that long ago. Ah, to be sixteen again. I don't think I'd change a thing. I love my kids more than life itself.” The pride on his words, the way he says it makes me think of my ex husband, wishing he felt the same.

“You're a great dad, Marcus. Make sure you take lots of photos of your grandchild. I can't wait to see her. Babies are fun, but a lot of work. As I'm sure you recall.”

“Sure can. Don't worry, lots of photos will be taken. I'll see you at break,” he waves me off, as he heads towards the back of the building.

I put my lunch in the staff room, making small talk with my other co-workers. I pour myself a cup of coffee and head to my desk, writing on a sticky note, 'cupcake stuff'. Most days work can drag for me, not doing a whole lot. I'm often chatting with others who are not doing that much either, when you're not actually the host of a radio show, it can be rather dull. Especially a little station like ours.

“I can't believe how quiet it is for a Friday,” Amber, who works part-time complains.

“It is rather slow, isn't it? I may head out early. I have lots to do this afternoon. I'm sure Bob won't mind. He does it all the time, doesn't he?” I half joke. The boss, who we rarely ever see, is always showing up late or leaving early. We don't dislike him, hard to dislike a man we don’t see much. But, he keeps us running enough we don't get shut down.

“Nah, besides I'll cover you,” She smiles warmly at me. “I have nothing better to do. Not until later tonight. So, if you want to head out at lunch, that's no problem by me.”

“Are you sure? That is awfully nice of you. Thanks.”

She agrees, telling me it's fine. So, I make sure to do as much as I can before leaving. I even offer to give her my packed lunch, since she forgot hers. Promising to bring her a coffee from the coffee shop on Monday. She is giddy about this news. I thank her once more, before heading off.

Now, I live in a somewhat small town, where there is only a little grocery store. Sure, if you want, you can drive the extra two miles out of town, to go to the WalMart, but I try to get as much as I can locally. Pulling into the parking lot, it's fairly busy, but find a spot rather easily.

Once in the store, I end up filling my cart with other things other just things to make cupcakes. Getting things I know we need, but have been slacking on getting. I take my time, knowing I have it to spare, now that I'm three hours ahead of schedule. Not many people enjoy the experience of going food shopping, but I take it as a little vacation from my every day life. It was something I did more when I was married and needed the excuse, now I just do because I can.

“Did you find everything you needed, ma'am?” Crystal, the cashier, asks me.

“You've known me all your life. I've told you many times you don't need to call me ma'am, Crystal. I gave you piano lessons,” I tease her, as I put my groceries on the conveyor belt.

“Can't help it, ma'am. My mother raised me right. And you were always the best music teacher. I still play.”

“With those hands, I can see how you'd be able to be a great teacher,” the sound of a low, slightly gruff sounding man from behind me causes me to turn and look at him.

I have to tilt my head up a little higher than I thought I'd need. The man has to stand well over six feet tall. His dusty brown hair hangs around his eyes, but I can tell they are dark, like melted chocolate, swimming in milk. They are hypnotizing. His facial hair looks more like a week without shaving, my favorite look on a man. Though he was incredibly young looking.

“That's what my dad used to tell me, when I was learning to play when I was young,” I reply to him. As I put the last item on the belt, before adding the section bar, so he can put his items on behind mine.

“Are you still teaching? I'm new to the area, but I used to play when I was younger. I'd love a refresher course.”

The giggle that erupts from me is not voluntary, it just happens, which admittedly makes me blush and I don't know why.

“Well, I've never taught anyone who is all grown up, but since it is more of a refresher course, I don't see why not.” I pay for my items, bagging them up into my cart, once I have, I dig through my handbag and pull out a piece of paper and scribble my name and number on it. “Here, if you're serious and want to take some lessons, just give me a call and I'm sure we can pencil you in somewhere.”

“Oh, I'm very interested,” he looks down at the paper I had handed him, “Genevieve. What a pretty name. I'm Isaac.”

“Thank you. Nice to meet you, Isaac.”

He cashes out as well and we walk out together, making small chat about how he has just moved to the area from city to live with his grandmother.

“You may know her, she has lived here all her life. Allison Carter, she worked in the local library. That's where I work now, I have taken over her job and make sure she's okay. Though she says she is taking care of me, if anyone asks. I don't fight it. It's cute, in her own little elderly way. You know?”

“How old are you?” I blurt out, it almost sounds rude. “I'm sorry, you don't need to tell me.”

“I don't mind at all. I'm twenty three. I was working at my dad's hardware store, he sent me to come take care of my nan, since he can't close the shop. It wasn't my first choice, but hey, I'm here now, I'll enjoy it when I can. That's the reason I asked about the lessons. There isn't a whole lot to do here. You all don't even have a bar. What's with that?”

This makes me laugh, because it drives a lot of younger people crazy. “We're a dry town. No bars, we don't even sell alcohol after eleven pm, or on Sunday's. That happened about five or so years ago. We had a tiny bar, that had pretty good business, but once we changed the rules, they up and moved to who knows where?”

“Wow, a dry town. What have I gotten myself into?” He shrugs his shoulders. “Well, this is me.” He nods over at his Ford and smiles that boyish smile that is starting to already grow on me.

“I'm three cars down, thanks for the chat. Call me whenever, Isaac. Nice to meet you.”

“You too, Ma'am,” he winks at me.

Laughing, I walk away, heading towards my car, putting my bags in the trunk. When I'm home, I start the cupcakes, so they can cool off during the lesson I have in an hour and a half. I'll ice them after, then be all set for Josephine's girls tonight. They are having a sleepover at Mandy's house, all the girls are bringing something to the get party. Every time something requires food, I'm always asked to make my special cupcakes.

Turning on the radio, I listen to the station I work for. They do a lot of chatting in the afternoon, right before school let's out. Once it does, they play a lot of music, to get the teenagers into the station. They're talking about some political thing right now, so I don't pay a lot of attention to it. Instead, I think about how attractive I find Isaac. It has been a year since I've gotten laid, though I've had offers from some weird creeps from those online dating sites. I opt out and stick to using my toy, which has been put to good use many times.

Just as I'm pulling the cupcakes out of the oven, the doorbell chimes. It's Stevie, with his older sister, Rebecca, who used to also play, until she decided she wanted to learn the flute instead. Stevie is a rambunctious twelve year old, who seems to only stay calm, when his fingers dance over the ivory keys. Rebecca is in a rush to get to her own practice, and says she'll be back in an hour to pick him up. She waves and is gone in a flash.

Stevie bounces over to the piano, knowing that if he behaves, he'll get a cupcake too. He always does, when I make them and he is on his best behavior. I start the metronome and he begins to play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, which is his favorite to play. Once he is warmed up, he begins to play the piece he is working on for his school talent show. Only every so often do I need to correct him. He learns quickly and takes critique well. He doesn't let it bring him down, just learns from it.

Once his hour is nearly up, I head to the kitchen and begin to ice a cupcake for him. I wrap it up and tell him it is for after dinner only. I don't want him to spoil his appetite, his mother wouldn't be pleased. He promises to wait and leaps at the door when we both hear the honk of his sister's car.

Moving back into the kitchen, I begin to ice the rest of the cupcakes. Josephine will be home shortly and I want to be done before she gets home. I made more than I needed to, so I keep a few for the house, but make sure to send the rest with her. I box them up, so they don't get mushed.

When the kids do get home, Jasper devours two of the saved cupcakes in nearly one gulp, washing them down with milk. Josephine goes on talking about her day and how she is excited for tonight. In between breathes, Jasper mumbles how he's going to crash at his buddy Luke's house. Which I know is code for, staying up all night and playing video games. I tell him it's fine and he kisses the top of my head before going up to do his homework.

Both my kids know that school work of any kind comes before play. If either of them want to get out tonight, they must do all their homework. None of this, I'll do it on Sunday night stuff. Which usually leads to kids staying up half the night, stressing over it. They both listen well when it comes to that though, always have. I'm proud to say, both my kids are A students.

A little after seven, both kids are gone, the house is once more quiet. I start dinner, which I keep light. I make spaghetti, with no sauce. I cook up some shrimp and scallops, mix it into the noodles, with a bit of butter, garlic and black pepper, with some red wine. Not often do I drink wine, but since both kids are not home, I figure why not. I know they're safe.

While watching The Blacklist, my phone chimes, alerting me to a text message.

“Hey, it's Isaac. I hope I'm not disturbing your evening. Thought I'd say hi.”

“You're not disturbing me. I just finished dinner, watching The Blacklist. Kids are out, home alone. That is big fun for a single mom.”

“That does sound like big fun. I'm home watching Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy with my seventy year old nan. How cool am I?”

I can't help but choke on some of my wine, laughing between choking. His comment completely caught me off guard. It takes me several minutes to clear my throat, before I can wipe up the mess I made, before I reply back to him.

“I'm sorry to admit this, but you made me choke on my drink with that last comment. Yes, you're wicked cool. It sure beats being a punk kid, who wants nothing to do with his family. You know?”

We talk through text while I watch the rest of my show and even the next one. Before I know it, it is well after eleven, I tell him I have to get to bed. The duty of being a mother never ends. I promised Josephine I'd come to the game tomorrow, which is at noon. While texting, though, we agreed for him to come over on Sunday afternoon for his first class.

Cleaning up the kitchen a little bit, I climb up the stairs and in to my room, where I strip down to just my usual nightwear, a long t-shirt and panties. Though, because I have the house to myself, I take the opportunity to enjoy myself without worry of the kids hearing me. I know I shouldn't, but I think of Isaac. He is far too attractive not to, and besides, what harm is it to pretend that he'd ever want to be with a woman in her forties.

With ease, I slide my vibrator inside me, working it in until it fits comfortably. I set it on the lowest speed, I let out a soft moan, allowing vibrations tickle inside me. My clit getting harder, more excited. I lift my shirt up, to expose my breasts, I squeeze them gently, pinching my nipples between my fingers. Slowly I grind my hips in slow circles. The thought of Isaac on top of me, inside me, sucking and biting on my nipples fill my mind.

I picture him naked, adding details to a man I've never even seen without clothes on. His skin so soft, like silk against my own flesh. His full lips covering my chest and breasts, sucking my nipples, leaving love bites on my body. I reach down and turn the speed of my vibrator up two more notches, rolling my hips a little more. Rolling my hips a little more, Isaac picking up speed inside me. I can almost hear the sound of his balls slapping against my ass.

Finally, I start to thrust my toy inside me.

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I can hear the wetness with each inward and outward motion. I can feel it dripping down my crack, only making me more excited. My toes curl and uncurl, closing in on my orgasm. I hold off for as long as I can, though. I want to see stars when I come. I bite my lip, moaning out, which seems so loud to me. My fingers rub vigorously against my clit, my vibrator plunging in to my pussy. I can feel it grip it tight, trying to keep it inside me.

The pounding in my ears is blood rushing through my body, I let out a yelp, unable to hold it back any longer. I feel the tightening of my body, locked for a brief moment, before I'm rocked with such a strong sensation. My whole body ripples, coasting through my orgasm. I don't stop rubbing my clit, but push the toy deep inside me, letting the vibrations to help keep this ride going.

Even once the orgasm is over, I leave the toy buzzing inside me, my breathing is heavy, my heart pounding. I feel slightly used, in the best possible way. It is a good few minutes before I reach down and slide my soaked toy out of me. I lie there in the darken room, enjoying the aftermath of my orgasm, until I eventually fall asleep. It's restful, dreaming of naughty, fun things. Things I want to come true.

The following morning flies by and before I know it, I'm at the field twenty minutes of noon. I usually help the girls with finishing touches of their hair and makeup. Most of the other parents either don't show up or are busy on their phones playing that crushing of candy game, or playing bird flapper, or some silly thing like that. Though I'm not a big fan of football and am only learning the last few years how it even works, I want to support the kids who rather play sports, than out getting into trouble.

With the game starting on time, for once, I settle on the bleachers after grabbing a cup of coffee at the concession stand. A few of the dads are standing around, talking about their son's and what they have thought about this seasons games. They're all betting they'll go to the very end. I keep my thoughts to myself, not being extremely social this past year, but I agree with them, that they'll make it to the end.

The blow of the whistle grabs my attention, but as it does, a shadow falls over me, looking up, I see Isaac staring down at me with a smile from ear to ear.

“I swear, I'm not a stalker or anything, but let's face it, what else is there to do on a weekend in this town? Watching the local high school football game is a big deal. You know?” He doesn't even ask if he can sit with me, he just does.

The laughter erupts from me. He isn't far off from the truth. There really isn't much else to do in our tiny town. It takes a good twenty minute drive to really go anywhere.

“This town will grow on you, maybe. I'm not sure. You don't really seem like a small town kind of guy.”

“I don't mind it all that much, I just need to find things to keep me busy. I can only do so much at the library and my nan sleeps a lot. She's pretty independent, she just needs a few reminders of taking her medication and such.”

When he mentioned his nan, it dawns on me I hadn't told him if I knew her yesterday when he had asked.

“Oh, Mrs. Carter is a wonderful lady. My kids and I know her well. We used to go to the library a lot when the kids were little. She had a story time once a week, she'd read to them. It was pretty popular with the younger kids.”

This makes him smile a weak smile. “We didn't see her a lot when I was a kid. My father was upset with her for a long time after my grandfather passed away. I never really found out why, just stopped seeing her a lot. I think that is more the real reason why he doesn't come take care of her. I don't care though, I want to get to know her the best I can. She's the only grandparent I have left now.”

The way he talks about his grandmother makes my heart melt. He truly does seem like a good guy. Anyone who wants to be close to those they love or should love, is good in my book. My kids didn't get to know their grandparents on my side because they passed away a few years ago. They see Christopher's parents three times a year, at Christmas and each of their birthday's. That is how it has always been though, even when Chris and I were married.

I make sure to watch the game, paying extra attention when the girls do their routine. I cheer them on, as does everyone else, even Isaac. I point my daughter out for him. She waves at us when I do. We talk throughout the game, with the occasional quiet lull, but it isn't awkward, just enjoying the game. When the game ends, us winning by seven points, everyone is high with excitement.

Josephine runs up to me, asking if she can go out with a few friends and get pizza. I slip her some money, telling her to have fun, and to be safe. I send a text to Jasper, to check in. He replies back that he is slaughtering Jake in some video game, so I leave him be.

Noticing that Isaac is still around, I decide to ask him if he'd like to grab lunch. I don't see why two people can't eat together. We can be friends, right?

We end up driving the twenty minutes to the town near ours, which has a better dining choice. Also, who doesn't like iHop? It is one of my favorite breakfast restaurants. I point out all the places I come to, that we don't have closer to home. I feel like a tour guide, but from the look of Isaac, he looks content just having something to do.

By the time we get to iHop, it is pushing three, so it isn't overly busy. A few older couples are there, having the early bird special. This place smells like heaven to me. You can't go wrong with a place that always smells of bacon and syrup, right? We settle into a booth, sitting across from each other, the waitress takes our drink orders and we fall silent, as we look over our menus. Though I already know what I'm going to get, I don't want him to feel rushed.

After just a few minutes he declares he knows what he wants and I tell him I do as well. Flagging down the waitress, we place our orders and our conversation continues. Isaac is pretty easy to talk to. It's nice to talk to someone new. Everyone at home knows all my business and walks on eggshells around me. Even after a year. I do have some friends who don't, though, I'm grateful for that.

He tells me he is single and has never really ever had a serious, long term committed relationship. He had a girlfriend in his freshmen year of high school, that lasted almost eight months. She was his first for everything, so she'll hold a special place in his heart forever. But after that, he just had a hard time meeting girls who he really connected with. He isn't the type to sleep around, though he has had a few friends he has fooled around with.

I let him do most of the talking, enjoying getting to know his life. Though by the time we get our food, he asks about my life. I tell him about the divorce and about my kids, how I've been focusing on them. But I'm ready to see what else the world has to offer me. Knowing there has to be more than what I have so far and I can't wait to find out.

After lunch is done, I drop him off at his Nan’s house, where I wish him a good evening and I'll see him the next day. I'm almost sad our time is up, but I'm glad to be seeing him again tomorrow. It seems silly to fancy someone who is almost twenty years my junior, but he doesn't make me feel old. Not that he has, in anyway flirted with me. But it is all still nice. Making a new friend and such.

***

The next day, Isaac is on time for his lesson. He has on black slacks, with a light blue button down shirt. I think he dressed up a little more than I'm used to with my students. I can't help but smile, when I greet him at the door. We only make small talk for a moment, because I'm so used to ushering my students in and getting right down to business. I tell him to warm up, let me hear what he knows.

When he begins to play, I have to stop and just stare. His fingers move so gracefully over the keys. I'm not sure what he's playing, which surprises me, but it just makes you want to keep listening. It is soft, almost dream-like. It is a beautiful piece. I do hear a few corrections that need to be fixed, though. But overall, Isaac is an amazing pianist, or at least compared to the kids I teach.

“What did you think? Be honest” He turns on the beach and looks at me with a shy smile.

I sit beside him now, the warmth of his body heat feels nice against me.

“I think you play with passion, that much is clear. I've never heard of the song, what is it?” I ask. “I think you can hear that it's been a while since you've played, but you definitely have skills, Isaac.”

“It's a piece my mother wrote when I was young. She is who I learned to play from. That is a lullaby she'd play for me when I couldn't sleep. Sappy, I know. But, it was the first real piece I learned, once I knew how to play.”

“Both my kids learned through me as well. It was a real bonding time. Both still play from time to time, but they don't have the same kind of passion for it as I do. Your mother is very talented, Isaac.”

“Oh, she knows. Though she loves being told so, she adores when people stroke her musical ego. Though she isn't cocky, or anything,” his boyish grin appears on his face once more. The grin I'm growing so fond of.

Both laughing, I begin to play a familiar piece. It is one I play for my more advance students, and Isaac quickly joins in. We work together well, the sound of the piano is all that is heard in the room, though I can hear the grandfather clock in the next room softly chime. The kids are out for a few more hours. The smell of my roast chicken baking on the lowest temperature, for a good nice slow baked for dinner.

Isaac chooses the next song, I once again play with him. Our fingers dancing over the ivory keys, though mine focus on his. They are long, delicate, slender fingers, that I picture on my naked body. Locked in my hair, holding me close, as he kisses me passionately. Or, deep inside me, curling upwards to summon an orgasm, as his mouth suckles on my clit.

My breathing begins to hitch a little, just at the thought of it. I can't help myself, though I've always tried to stay professional in any job I've done. But, somehow, with him, I'm unable to.

“Are you okay, Genevieve?” Isaac asks, he has stopped playing when he notices I have.

“I'm so sorry. Yes, of course I am. I apologize,” I stumble over my words.

“You don't need to apologize. It's fine. You just stopped so suddenly.”

Without a second thought, I lean towards him and I kiss him. I don't just kiss him, but it was full on, open mouth, tongue pushing into his, passionate kiss. I don't know what over takes me, I don't care, I just want it. The shivering moan that comes from him, is like an approval of this, if I've ever heard one. His arms wrap around me, kissing me back with just as much urgency.

My fingers do find their way up into his hair, locking tight and kissing him more. I twist enough to give us both better access, to deepen the kiss, to embrace one another. His hands grip my hips, squeezing and releasing every so often. It feels so right to kiss him, he tastes so good. The flavor of him is intoxicating. I suck his tongue into my mouth, like it was his cock. A low, deep growl erupts from him.

“Come, let's go upstairs,” I say this well I begin to stand.

Isaac stands, following me up the stairs. I haven't had sex with another man in almost twenty years, the same difference in age Isaac and I are in age, but yet, I don't care. I feel this spark inside me that is telling me, no screaming to me, yes, do this! Fuck this man.

Shedding each others clothes off the moment we hit my room and the door is shut, we are like animals. There is no awkwardness, no need for all the romantic bullshit. This is a primal need that we are both feeling. Isaac has the look in his eye, the same as I feel I must have in my own. The look of him naked does no justice of what I imagined the other night. He's even better. He is beautifully bare of any hair from the neck down. I want to run my tongue over his body, before taking him into my mouth.

Pushing him backwards onto the bed, I straddle him, and do just that. I kiss him once more, tugging his lower lip with my teeth, I do until he let's out a soft whimper. Releasing it, I kiss down his neck, licking and biting over his chest. I can taste his soap, mixed with a slight salty taste of him. Each time I bite him, he groans, watching me as I work down his body. His cock is already so hard, I love a man who is ready for me.

Wrapping my mouth around just his head, my tongue flicks over his slit. Toying with it gently, probing him, while I stroke him at a slow pace. My lips are tight around him, holding him in place, my free hand cupping his balls. The moans that escape him are exhilarating. It is something I'm not used to, my ex husband was rather quiet, but Isaac doesn't seem to hold back. I can't help but love every sound he makes.

It isn't long though, until I suck him out of my mouth, and climbing up onto the bed. I place my knees on either side of him, straddling him, I lean forward into him, as he leans up on his elbows slightly and sucks on each of my nipples. Moving back and forth between them, nibbling into a whimper out, and even then he doesn't stop. I can feel them grow tender and sore, which only makes me more aroused. I'm eager to plunge down onto him, but I don't. I just grind my pussy up and long his cock, letting my clit enjoy the sensation of being rubbed by something that isn't of my own hand.

I stroke Isaac's hair as he nurses on my nipples, it's completely and utterly erotic. I do nothing but rock my hips on his shaft, listening to him moan and suckle. The vibrations on my flesh tease me, his facial hair scratches my skin, leaving me aching, wanting more.

Finally, I lift my hips just enough, reaching down, I slide him in slowly. I don't plunge, like I thought I would, but allow myself to feel him stretch me wide. He fits wonderfully inside me, squeezing him into me, I begin to ride him slow and easy. But it isn't for long, just enough to get a good feel of him. He has let go of my nipples, reaching to pull me into a kiss, we moan together as his hands find my hips again. We meet at the same pace, fucking one another, I move faster, he moves faster. I collide with him, plunging myself down onto him.

An entire year of no sex, the pent up need screaming through me all at once. I begin to orgasm, I ride him faster. I reach down and begin to play with my clit, out of habit, but Isaac brushes my hand away and does it for me. Rubbing on my clit, as I come. The wetness is heard, I can hear it each time my ass slaps against his thighs. I blush deeply, but I know he is loving it as much as I am.

With my orgasm passed, Isaac lifts me up enough to drop me flat on my back and climbs on top of me. Thrusting his cock back into me, he bottoms out, and grinds himself deep inside me. He takes one of my legs and places it over his shoulder, pushing himself deeper inside me. The pressure, the fullness of him makes me whimper, I can feel my mouth forming the letting O like I'm gasping, he smiles down at me, just as he grinds in, pushing that moan out. I tremble, feeling him suddenly begin to move a quicker pace.

Each thrust is deeper, harder than the last, but it feels amazing. I dig my nails into his flesh, racking upwards over him. He pounds into me, forcing my body to take on all his weight as he comes down into me. I spread my other leg wider, inviting him to get deeper. He takes advantage, his moans become louder than mine. He is in complete control, fucking me hard.

He takes one of my breasts into his mouth and begins to suck on it again, roughly. Every inch of my body is on fire, I want to erupts again. I feel the pressure building, growing closer and closer.

“I'm going to come, I'm going to come,” I gasp out, “Please don't stop. Oh fuck me, please don't stop.” I beg him, the words spilling out of my mouth, though I am not sure how much sense I'm making. He doesn't stop, so I must be making some kind of sense.

Bucking hard up against me, his cock hits the hilt again each thrust. I grab a fistful of his hair with one hand, my other hand against racks up his back. I moan out a long, thundering moan, as I feel my eruption happen. It's harder and stronger than the first one I had. I squeeze around him, I can feel the way my pussy tightens onto him.

“Fucking Christ, Genevieve.” Isaac growls out as he releases my nipple, but only long enough to curse the pleasure I give him, sucking my other one into his mouth.

He's pounding a steady pace into me, through my whole orgasm, until he stiffens a little, and begins to release his own load inside of me. It causes me to twitch around him, milking his shaft, until he is empty. Even when he's done, he moves his hips slowly, until he grows soft.

When he is done, he rolls off of me, but lies his head on my chest. He takes my breast that is closest to him and once more suckles on it, his hand plays softly with my other nipple. His eyes are closed, he looks peaceful. He's not doing it for pleasure, but more for comfort, which gives me comfort as well. We stay like that for about an hour, no words are spoken, or even needed. But, I do know my kids will be home soon.

When we get up, dressed and go back downstairs, we make plans for another lesson. Isaac tells me that he thought I was one of the prettiest women he's ever seen, when he saw me in the store and simply had to say hi. But, he never thought it was going to wind up going in this direction. Though I'm not sure what is going to happen from here, I'm also not worried about it. It is a one day at a time kind of thing. Why worry about it? Look how much fun I have had, just going with the flow.

Written By Poppet: For LushStories ONLY! 
Published 
Written by Poppet
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