Flash Fiction Erotica
"Warming the Bench" a sex story by Jeremy Edwards
Bascombe has warned her of his eccentricity in the studio. He has explained that he always asks that the window to the engineer's booth be curtained off, so that he might be alone with his instrument. Or, in the case of a duet, alone with his partner and their instrument.
So Lucinda is not surprised when Bascombe arranges to turn the recording room into a private shrine. Or when he insists that they "dress" for the occasion – he in his tux, she in a gown – in order to formalize the performance.
She is, however, surprised when he asks her to remove her panties.
In the piece that they have been rehearsing all week, she is the left and he the right. When they began, Lucinda found it sexy to know that a deep-voiced, long-legged man like Bascombe would be coaxing mellifluous, girlish sounds out of the higher octaves while she, a sliver of a young woman, would be thumping rhythmically along the bass notes.
The whole arrangement reminds her of a soixante-neuf, with Bascombe tasting the feminine keys while she nurtures the piano's thick male bits.
Now, in the sanctuary of the recording room, where brilliantly lit sheet music glows against a shadowy ambience, she sits next to him on the bench. She keeps her eyes fixed on the music as his tuxedo trousers slide to the floor.
They commence playing. At first, she keeps her legs together. Then, as her body opens to embrace the sonata, her thighs gradually spread apart. She knows that Bascombe can detect the subtle shift in her posture.
Between the first and second movements, he lifts her onto his lap, smoothing her gown out of the way with his celebrated, adept fingers. She feels him utilizing the standard, portentous pause to ensure that he has penetrated her snugly.
When they resume, it's as if a year's courtship has transpired in the course of ten seconds.
While Bascombe's right hand tickles the ivories, his left titillates Lucinda's bottom. As she caresses the lower octaves, she bounces lightly upon him, her moist opening squeezing him with as much expression as her concert-quality hands give to the music.
The tempo becomes increasingly allegro as the piece careens to its climax and conclusion. The precision, of course, remains impeccable.
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The Pleasure Dial: An Erotocomedic Novel of Old-Time Radio by Jeremy Edwards
Copyright April 2009, Jeremy Edwards
Published with permission from author on OystersandChocolate.com. Copying or reprinting this work in part or in whole without permission is illegal.