Meeting In Starbucks. (Closed for PrincessLyn)

[PrincessLyn]

“We’re going to the tenth floor because that’s the winning score, 10/10 " Tom says in the lift. He takes me in his arms, and kisses me. This day, this winning day is overwhelming. To meet someone like Tom and feel such a connection to each other is less likely than winning the lottery. Yet I am her, in this lift kissing him, feeling his tongue in need for mine, for my body, me, my inner self.

Then there is this other win today. This odd audition. The skills they ask are probably on amature level. But they choose me out of so many clarinetists. Now how can I hold up to their and their fans' expectations? At a rock concert or festival where people don't come for me, for a classical wind instrument. But they come for the show and I'll be part of it. And yes I can perform under pressure, before a big audience, with all eyes on me.

Now I am going up physically. My knees are weak due to the speed of the lift combined with the feeling of our kiss. I feel the longing in Tom's kiss, his tongue, his hands, his breathing. I can even smell it. A self confidence, I would only yesterday have considered as haughtiness comes over me. I have earned this contract, and yes, why should this man not have feelings for me.

From the age of 10 I practiced every day to get the best out of my instrument. At 14 I went to the conservatory 3 times a week. It made me the best clarinet player of my generation in my country. I made so many sacrifices, despite all warnings that no matter how good you are, money will always be tight at the end of the month, which was true.

But it made me who I am now mentally. Strong, forever curious, and forever willing to learn. The applause, critics, young musicians looking up to me made me confident about my skills, and here today Tom made me feel confident about myself. In no way I am a perfect size nor a natural beauty but Tom saw something in me many other women don't have.

The room is amazing. Big with a high ceiling, Windows from top to bottom overlooking the city center, the skyscrapers. A big balcony on the main street. The bedroom is separate. Tom is thrilled to show it all. The bed is covered in rose petals. There is romance, longing, and desire all over this room, these gestures. his look. Carefully I lay down on the edge of the bed between the red and white petals. I drop off my pumps and for seconds I just enjoy the feeling of being here.

Tom wants to join me. I stop him with my feet. Rubbing my toes in his crotch, smiling, defiant. He takes my right foot, caresses the back of my ankle, my calw, lifts it up to his face. Strikes my foot to his cheek before he puts my nylon covered toe between his lips. My leg is powerless dangling free. My other leg is softly pressed against his chest. He licks my toes, one by one while his hands go up and down my legs, my calves, the back side of my knee, my thighs. When he comes too close I press my foot a bit harder to his chest, teasing. My hands go down my skirt, lifting it up around my crotch. My hands caressing the inside of my thighs just on the edge to where our hands can not meet.

But his licking and his tongue stroking the sole of my foot makes me weak. I am laughing out loud and my leg on his chest is bending more and more. His hands come closer to my crotch, going forth and back, circeling from the back of my knee, the backside of my thighs, almost to the edge of my butt cheeks, going back in front, where I cover my privates, laughing, teasing.

I quit my defense and let my foot go from his chest to his face. Stroking his nose, cheek, ear with my toe, tickling, adoring the perfect straight edgy lines of his face. His hands are circling further, up under my panties, the fold between my big lips and legs. I relax completely and as Tom's face comes near, my legs sliding more widely while sliding over his shoulder. My skirt is now pushed up over my belly and my legs are spread wide as his face comes near, kissing my mons, his lips lifting my panties, his tongue licking my lace knickers.

 

[coolpen]

Lyn takes in the room, twirling round so that she can see every part of it from the high ceiling to the balcony overlooking the city and to the bedroom where the bed is strewn with rose petals and she kicks off her pumps and lies on the edge of the bed.
For her this is a triumph, the end of a long, hard journey, starting as a child of ten and then when her friends were out having fun and dating, attending the conservatory almost daily and hour upon hour of practice seeking that elusive perfection that all virtuosi strive for.

It’s said that to be really good at anything requires at least ten thousand hours of practice and I’m sure that Lyn has put in twice as much as that to reach her standard and yet she will still find fault with herself, punishing herself for perceived weaknesses in her technique and for an interpretation of a work that she feels doesn’t bring out the composer’s meaning.
So today is the validation of all that work and dedication, an acknowledgement of her skills and adaptability, that she can transition from classical to popular, playing in front of crowds, most of whom won’t be able to name the instrument she’s playing, but who will be captured by her music.
I wait by the side of the bed, just watching her, watching as the tension melts away as the realisation of what she’s achieved sinks in and I move towards her, only to be stopped by Lyn as she presses her feet against my crotch, nudging me with her toes, such a playful and sensuous thing to do so I take her foot and kiss her toes, pressing forward towards her until my pressure forces her to give way and bend her knees.

And now she’s playing the temptress, lifting the hem of her skirt, teasing me, revealing her lacy panties and I move to kiss her mound through them but she covers herself with her hand and tickles my nose with her toes, laughing at the game we’re playing.
But kissing her nylon covered toes and her panties is like listening to music with your fingers in your ears. I want hear the whole orchestra so I hook my fingers into the top of her panties and start to pull them and her tights down, just slowly at first and then with more urgency until she’s completely uncovered.

There’s just a moment when we look at each other, understanding what we’re doing and then, just as I had pulled her tights and panties down, I retrace their path with my lips, kissing her toes one by one, running my tongue across the sole of her foot and feeling her flinch at the sensation, kissing her ankles and calves and then the inside of her thighs, nuzzling between them, the scent of her arousal in my nostrils and at last the delicate softness of her vulva, taking her into my mouth while my tongue explores her, wanting her, feeling her move to my touch, but this is too soon for the crescendo that heralds the finale, we have time to play, to flirt and tease, to feel the heat between us and to revel in our passion delayed and I move from her to kiss her lips, letting her taste her excitement, sharing this moment, hinting at what is to come.

 

[PrincessLyn]

Tom is still standing in front of me while I am lying on the edge of the bed. While I yield for his caresses he bends over following the inside of my legs, kisses them, licks them up to my panties. Putting his nose deep in my parts, smelling, licking, caressing throughout my tights, my panties. His lips move and bite the fabric just before his hands eagerly go to the edge, pulling them down, carefully, slowly like unpacking a gift.

My feelings and emotions jump up and down. Sure i have had oral sex before and most of the time it was pretty good but never so fast, never someone went down on me on the first date, before exploring eachothers body, before feeling touching, getting to know each others flaws, beauty, smell or liking.

Tom lifts up my legs again, liking my now bare feet, putting them on his shoulders again, getting closer while kissing and licking. I feel extremely exposed, boldly naked and open to his sight. I cover myself clumsily with one hand but my thoughts are fighting and running through my mind. I want this so badly but at the same time I feel so insecure.

What if he doesn't like hairy women? Did he see my weird birthmark yet? On my outer lips, that are fleshy big, fat? My big thighs and puthole skin? When totally relaxed I easily get slimy, dirty, profound …wet. Ohh i didn't pee yet, what if …? would it be … ?

But his face goes deeper. I squeeze it between my thighs, feel his rough skin on the inside of my legs. Although I am still anxious I surrender and while my breathing gets heavy and fast my lower body relaxes as his tongue strikes my birthmark, the edge between my shaven and hairy skin. His lips spout around the top of my slit. Sucking, going down over my clit. His tongue flipping and curling it. Pulling my labia between his lips. Down to my dripstone cave. I am wet. My slime, his spit and probably some pee mix up while his tongue licks me as if it's a delicious ice cream on a hot summer day. I just enjoy, lay back on the bed, legs wide , all nerves centered where his tongue is caressing me.

Tom looks up, kisses my spread thighs before his hands touch my belly, under my still pulled up skirt, under my blouse, my breasts. His face is wet. I open my mouth for his kiss like a little bird that wants to be fed. I can taste myself, smell myself. It's this scent of excitement, combined with his strong and tough male odor and touch. Passion, longing, fulfilled excitement.

I long for his taste, his smell. I want to feel that soft vulnerable skin, getting tensed while growing. Its big sensitive tip. I want to taste it, suck its fluides out like he did to me. Just before the magnus opus, the Grand Final of two bodies melting together by nature's excitement.

My hands open his belt, zipper and button while we still kiss. I push his pants and shorts down, fast, eagerly. I push him off of me, and while he is standing again I bend over but hold back not to go too fast to his penis. Instead i lick his belly, his pubic hair, around to his balls. Open my mouth wide to let my lips go over them. His dick is hard but flips up higher when my mouth comes near. I lick his jerk and it almost hits my face. My wet lips cover it's very top. Slowly going over it, my tongue flips over its slit, fast like a vibrato, steady, staccato.

With his dick in my mouth i go down on my knees, turning us both around and push him ove to the bed. I take of my blouse and bra, lay down on his chest and kiss him before going down again. Pumping and sucking my mouth, lips and tongue around his instrument of pleasure.

 

[coolpen]

Between Lyn’s thighs lies paradise, a garden filled with flowers and scents and fruits and streams of nectar that are like manna to a man who needs to quench his thirst there but first there is the tangle of her bush that must be penetrated before the riches there can be enjoyed – her lips like pieces of luscious ripe fruit, like slivers of peach in my mouth, the tasting of which is distraction, and the scents of her, the scents of her sex and a deeper scent full of musk that is her arousal and all the while I suck on her lips and taste her juices, ever nearer that one fruit that lies almost out of reach, that fruit not yet blossomed, still a bud that will burst into life when touched, filling her body with tremors and sensations and I seek it with my tongue until the tip of my tongue meets the tip of her clit, circling it, flicking my tongue across her, drawing her into my mouth.

I can feel Lyn tense at my attention as if this is too soon for her but my desire of this woman is so intense that I want to take her now, to release myself from my clothes and penetrate her, to fill her but that would be before she is fully aroused, so wet that her body begs for mine, so I kiss her belly, finding her breasts with my hands while Lyn suddenly attends to my jeans, undoing them and grasping my erection, her hand smooth and cool on me and then her lips at first on my shaft and then encircling me, tasting my precum, playing my cock as if it were her instrument, my shaft leading to the mouthpiece and my tip the reed while her hand that is tight on the base of my cock is the ligature and I know that if she continues like this it will be hard for me to restrain myself, if she loosened her hand I would release into her mouth, jet after jet of my hot semen.

And now she strips away the rest of her clothes, pressing her breasts to me and pushes me onto the bed, her mouth still on me, taking me ever deeper into her throat until her lips are on my balls and she’s sucking on me and the agony of wanting to come, to shoot everything into her mouth but I can’t because she has her hand so tight on my cock.

It is a sweet agony for me, knowing that if she releases her grip on me while my cock is in her mouth I’ll cum, filling her mouth as I ejaculate, or she could sit astride me and guide my erection into her, riding me to reach her orgasm, but she has control of me and I know that she will satisfy her own needs.

 

[PrincessLyn]

I can feel his strength, his power and manhood in my mouth. His life, his blood, his heartbeat is sliding over my tongue. I suck his jerk before sliding it deep into my throat. With every stroke I taste more of his pre juice, making him shiver, tremble and screaming. I hold his penis like an instrument, squeezing the end of his shaft, not allowing any blood to flow back. His dick grows even more and every few strokes I loosen my grip a bit, letting precum squirt out in droplets before I close his inner tubes again.

He is fighting with all his strength, manhood, as if the entire male population, now, then and in the future depends on it. But he is losing with every stroke, with every drip of precum. He is in my power and I feel my victory when finally I let go of my grip and he screams out his defeat while shooting out deep into my throat, filling my mouth. All my doubts are gone and I feel more of a woman as I ever felt.

My mouth is so full with is cum, and his dick, I swallow some and some drips out of me but I still manage to keep some in as lube while I keep stroking him. Harder now, like my clarinet with my upper teeth on the mouthpiece and the lower lip over my teeth playing and blowing the reet. My hands squeeze his shaft again and I feel it grow.

He holds my head, my hair, squeezing, pulling and pushing while he screams out loud. I love the feeling of being the cause of his primitive, ancient, natural, infinite, and merciless noicess and movements and to taste it, smell it and swallow it.

His juice has erected my heartbeat, my senses. My nipples are stiff, dark and hard. I squeeze them, circle my areolas with one hand using some of the cum I wiped off his balls. I smear our fluids on my stomach, going down, making my bush sticky and soggy. I let go of his dick, slowly letting his cum drip out of my mouth onto his chest, going up rubbing my tits into it.

I kiss him, suck his tongue, lips and mouth into mine. I want all his juices, taste all of him.

 

[coolpen]

Lyn is torturing me as she slides her tongue over my cock, sucking at my precum and then taking me deep into the intense heat of her throat, all the way until her teeth meet her hand that she still has locked round the base of my shaft. Never has any woman taken so much of me and my blood is pounding in my ears, unable to flow into my cock as she strangles it with her ever tighter grip and I have to scream out at the pain. But it’s not a pain that hurts, it’s a pain that excites, wanting me to take her, to enter her but Lyn has other ideas and every now and then she loosens her grip on my cock, letting a few drops of semen escape and then, just when I think she’s going to release me, tightening again.
And then suddenly she releases her grip and I erupt like a volcano, spewing my seed into her throat and mouth like streams of red-hot lava, pulse after pulse, as if my body is deflating, emptying itself into her, some she swallows and some escapes from her mouth as she plays my cock like a flesh-made instrument, my balls still contracting until I have no more.

I’m aware that in the passion and intensity of this I’ve been holding her mouth onto me, still handfuls of her hair gripped tight and as I release her she gathers the cum spilling from her mouth and spreads it over her breasts and belly, her hand tight on her pussy as he pulls me to her to share our passion in a kiss, lips and mouths slick with my cum and her saliva, and I slide my hand across the slickness of her breasts, her nipples rigid surrounded by her dark areolas and then across her belly, pushing her hand aside.
It's my turn now to please her, to tease her, to set her on fire, to bring her to the edge until she screams for release, and I slip two fingers into her and curl them upwards, as if beckoning her, feeling the roughness of her swollen arousal while finding her clit with my thumb, circling it, flicking gently at it, slowly, slowly, feeling her rising to the sensation before pulling my fingers from her and finding her rosebud, tight and mysterious, testing her there and then returning to her vagina and clit, my fingers beckoning her orgasm and my thumb circling her clit and every time I feel her tensing, arching her back in anticipation of her release, I pull my fingers from her, slipping them towards her rosebud before returning.

She will have to beg me to tip her over the edge, to scream for her release, promise me her world and all the while I can feel my shaft filling with blood again, hardening, ready to penetrate her when her orgasm finally overtakes her and when she cums, I want to drink from her, to taste her nectar.

 

[PrincessLyn]

I am in awe, about myself, as I look into the beautiful eyes of this man who just screamed like a lion. A predator whose most primitive and strongest urges I controlled and released on my demand.

He is not beaten though. There is even more fire, determination and desire in his eyes. His hand softly strikes my belly, gentle, nice and soft. Carefully going down and all of a sudden his fingers slip inside me. It doesn't hurt because I am wet, but it takes me by surprise. As he curls them and lifts his hand and I feel like I am hooked up. ' what are you … ooohhhh … '

His thumb and fingers are circling and pressing my clit from the inside and the outside. Pain and intense arousal fill my body like i have never felt, like i would never thought could be so exciting. I want to scream it out, want him to finish me, pressing harder, squeeze my clit, my labia and skin to mush, cut my slit further with his fingers. But just at that moment his fingers retract, going to my low B♭. It only takes a strike or two for my body to turn from every muscle, every fiber in contraction to complete weakness and surrender. But just as I think my muscles are so weak all my gates open up, his hooked fingers grab me again.

His head is down, sucking, biting my nipples. My fingernails cut flesh. I don't feel the pain, so i guess it's his. His hand and fingers are forcing every possible feeling out of my womanhood, his teeth are on the edge of cutting my flesh up to bleeding. I don't recognise myself anymore. I am an animal, only driven by low thoughts, desires and longings. The moment he wants to let go again I grab his claw with both my hands, thrust it inside me, force him to be mad, wild and revengefull so he tightens his grip even further, lifting, shaking, pushing my body by my vagina.

My body trembles, shivers as my thoughts go empty, my breathing and my heartbeat stops. My clit pumps my blood through my veins with my lips in its centre. My vagina inhales oxygen into my uterus. I am living in the afterlife. I can smell the sweet victory of lust over virtue, hellfire over human coldness and selfishness over coercion. I never felt this way, but never had a climax like this.

We are two rivers lying next to each other. We have come from the same highlands but followed different paths. We cut through lands, forming them, making them what they are. But the point where we join together, where we become one, the point fishermen fear most because the water is so unpredictable, the point where many people died in the thousands of years our rivers have flown, this point still lies ahead of us. But I can hear clashing water. The storm comes near, it's announced by the tubas, trombones, and trumpets. There is no going back as the music marches us to the battlefield. Roses and gunpowder.

Slowly I lower myself onto and into this unique and constantly changing entity. The copper section holds a long load C, while flutes and violins twirl, quietly. Timpani resonates deeply. The conductor pushes everyone to the edge.

 

[coolpen]

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.

Sometimes, when out in the country perhaps walking, one can discover a spring where crystal clear water bubbles from the earth as if by magic and it seems as though mother earth is giving of herself. Certainly, our ancient ancestors thought this was so and these springs became sacred places of worship, magical places that gave life to those who drank from them. And if we follow the rills that flow from them they become streams that eventually merge to become mighty rivers that flow to the sea and ocean.
Lyn and I are those springs, discovered by accident in a coffee shop and now, in our union of bodies, are a mighty surging river, our passion our very own pleasure dome and we scar each other with teeth and nails, marking each other with badges of ownership.

And all the while I tease Lyn to her edge with my fingers inside her and my thumb on her clit, pressing together and then retreating to pull her back from the edge of the precipice of her orgasm, distracting her by biting her nipples, pushing her this way and that between pleasure and pain until the two sensations eventually merge but until then I will stretch her until she screams for release and the conductor holds his hands high, urging the orchestra to sustain the final chord in a mighty crescendo accompanied by thunderous timpani.

And then?
For me there is only one place I need to visit, to slake my thirst, to sup of the nectar that flows from her spring, to caress the very source of her essence with my tongue.

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover

 

[PrincessLyn]

I lower myself onto him. Slowly, looking straight into his eyes. While his body going further inside mine it pushes out the last breath inside my lungs. I am exhausted, my head, my ears are still bouncing from the grand finale, trumpets and horns are still echoing in my ears. They have beaten my senses, my soul and triggered my deepest lust to control me completely.

I hold my hands on his chest. My muscles weaken. My legs, pelvic, my bladder. A warm flush dripps between us. My sight is blurry. Something reminds me I have to breathe, but I don’t want this moment to end. Slowly he strokes his hips, lifting me. I curl my fingernails into the muscles of his chest. A scream. A hard pinch in my boobs, my nipples. More strength comes back into my legs and I put some weight off of him. He starts slamming his hip up, knocking his dick inside me, hard and deep.

His banging, pinching and squeezing knocks back life into my body. I breathe oxigen, filled with sex. I feel the river getting alive and wild again, beating to the shore. trying to changing the course with all its might. It’s fighting itself to fight its energy, its feelings, our feelings. We are one and we fight ourselves, to survive, to feed our primitive animal instincts and to prevail, to survive our own power.

I bounce harder on his pole. cut his flesh, pinch his chest hair. Fury and excitement mix up in his eyes. I scream hard, and with every outcry I want him to beat me deeper, more cruel, more vicious. scratch me, hurt me, make me feel alive up to the last nerve in every inch of my body. Joined in my deepest womanhood

 

[coolpen]

Lyn rolls out from under me and mounts me, kneeling astride my hips. There is a moment’s hesitation between us as our eyes lock, both of us knowing that this is the moment when we consummate our so very new relationship and then her hand guides me to her entrance as she lowers herself onto my bursting cock, a movement that seems to last for ever as lift my hips to meet her, entering her ever deeper as she presses down on me, squeezing the breath from her while her juices flow freely from her, slick and hot, those beautiful juices that just a minute ago I was savouring as she orgasmed into my mouth.
But now there’s more as she releases herself completely and I can feel the hot wet of her as her bladder relaxes and there’s no distance between us, our two bodies melting into one another’s so that we become a single animal, demanding satisfaction.

I push into Lyn, wanting to penetrate her further, even to hurt her, lifting her and then back down again and then again pushing back into her, harder this time, and she responds by raking my chest with her nails, scarring me, and I grasp her nipples, squeezing them hard and then pulling at the same time and again she responds by digging her nails into my flesh so deep that she must draw blood and all the while I move to meet her, our thrusts synchronised.

For a moment Lyn’s eyes are closed and then she stares at me, daring me to go harder and faster, knowing that we are both close to cuming, wanting the physical pain that will enhance the moment and I slap her buttock hard, feeling her flinch and hearing her gasp at the wanted but unexpected sting and she tightens her grip, digging her nails deeper still into my chest and I slap her again, harder this time, wanting to assuage the pain she’s inflicting on me and all the while slamming into her, deeper and harder until she seems to move into a space of her own, her eyes rolling back, her eyelids fluttering, the walls of her vagina tightening on my erection and with a final slap on her buttock I release into her, jet after jet of my semen deep into her until I have no more.

 

[PrincessLyn]

We are flowing on the river together and reached the adagio. The only wrinkles on the water are caused by our bodies, trembling, shaking, trying to lift themself out of the water. There are only natural sounds, in nature's musical key. Time is flowing, irregular, slowly like the river we are in. We don’t think, hear, or communicate, we are just an entity driven by lust, feeling the same and catalyzing, accelerating each other.

Blood flows back to my brain. I feel pain again, my own fingernails are deep into the soft skin of my breasts. I feel bruises, blood. The softness and slickyness of our sexual parts is annoying now. It robs me from the intense feelings of lust combined with pain. Tom is still inside me, but his dick is weakened and soaked in warm cum, slime and other body fluids.

I am dizzy. Don’t know what to do. I could go on for hours, days, the rest of my life but I know that's not possible. Going on can not turn things better than they already are. There is no higher level, I just have to maintain what we have, take it and cherish it.

I get up, walk to the bathroom. I look at Tom lying on his back, looking up at me, smiling. Only now do I see how handsome his body is. His skin is equally teinted with soft blond body hair on legs and arms. His calves and thighs are firm beyond muscular. There is a beautiful edge between his thighs and his round, profound bottocks. The skin of his back is flawless, with some freckles and birthmarks accentuating the perfection.

There is distress on his face as he looks at my wounded breasts. I am sweaty, fluids are dripping out of me and my make up is haggard. I look at myself in the mirror. I recognize the woman by the outlines of her face. I know every inch of her, yet when I look in her eyes I don't recognize what's behind it. The repertoire of the woman I once knew has changed. The notes are still the same but it's different music now. It doesn't just affect myself, now and here. Every symphony, every opera that once or in the future will be performed will be heard differently. The senses of the world have changed, and they are as hard and intense as can be.

I look at my new dress on the floor. It's made for me to shine in. After a quick shower I put it on and I am ready for the world to see me, to see us.

 

[coolpen]

I watch as Lyn gets up from the bed.
She looks distressed as if she’s been attacked, deep gashes on her breasts, still bleeding, some from my nails and others from her own nails as she gripped herself in the frenzy of our passion and glancing down I can see blood on my chest where she raked her nails across me.
Have we exchanged blood as if in some primitive ritual just as we have exchanged body fluids?
And then she turns towards the bathroom and I can see the imprints of my hand on her buttocks where I slapped her, bright red wheals, testimony to the abandon of our lovemaking or are they marks of ownership, me wanting to claim her body solely for myself.
She bends to collect her dress from the floor, revealing her inner thighs that are glistening with a heady mixture of my semen and her own fluids and the scent of our lovemaking fills the air of the room.

What have we done in this frenzy of passion? Have we gone too far, abused each other so that we may never have this closeness again or have we reinterpreted the manuscript of lovemaking, an interpretation that would shock those familiar with the original score but excite others possessed of imagination and adventure?
I know that I can never see the world the same again, will never be able to feel the same abandon with any other woman but then, why would I want to?
In Lyn there is a musician borne of the gods of lust and passion, the love-child of Pan and Pothos, and I know that whenever she plays again the audience won’t merely be pleased, they’ll be seduced by her, leaving them begging for more just as I’m doing now.

She returns from her shower sheathed in her new dress, the fabric hiding the scars of our passion, and I sit on the end of the bed and take her hands, kissing each in turn.

“Where next? Smetena or Stockhausen?"

 

[PrincessLyn]

"I keep flowing on the river, ‘till eternity. And Stockhausen … well, he is all around us, in everything.
Do you know what 'Höllenfreude' actually is?"

"What …?"

"Höllenfreude, the song i'll have a part in. It's actually based on a contemporary piano play. The Eastwood Rangers have an awkward joy but it is a celebration of feelings. The original starts with high piano notes, up and down, irregular, nervous, fast, unpredictable. It takes your ears, your senses to the limit, not sure if it is to like or to endure. But it is a celebration of all of one's life, from the start till the end. You have to realize you can't enjoy the best fortune without turning pain into pleasure. The intensity … well … needless to say all this finesse gets lost in screaming a rock song."

I take my phone and search for the piece. A piano fills the room as the shot of a gun. My face is just inches from his. I can feel his warm breath, the heat from his body. Lust, horniness and desire are now on a different level. It pushes down on us and at the same time erases fear, despair and weakness.

We look each other deep in the eyes. Boundaries have shifted and the composer knows it. Life within his bright blue eyes is endless. From the thunderstorms of the Siberian steppe, caused by a butterfly in Brazil up to a glacier buttercup breaking through the ice in Finland. My lips touch his, gentle, careful. His breath is a storm, a hurricane of oxygen.

"Let's go outside, into the world. Let's see how it looks now from our ever changing river.”

 

[coolpen]

Höllenfreude, Hell Joy. Is that what we've found?
It's as if we've stepped into a parallel reality, left the world of normal behind and turned all our previous pains into pleasure but pleasure between us that can only be be found through pain.
The Vitava might be our river flowing calmly in other's eyes but we know its undercurrents, the rocks that can snag and tear just as we tore each other with out nails when we made love.
She is standing close to me and the sexual tension between us is almost pornographic, as if we want to assault each other sexually.
She speaks.
"Let's go outside, into the world. Let's see how it looks now from our ever changing river.”
I know we must but we will be outsiders, invisible observers of that which we've left behind. Nothing will be normal for us ever again except that which we choose to show to the world. Lyn the musician will look normal as she plays but she will be a seducer, The Pied Piper of Hamelin, and her audience will never experience life the same.

 

[PrincessLyn]

Tom is dressed and we take the lift down. Although I was the one mentioning we should go out into the world I have no idea where we are going. We walk through the big lobby and despite the many people that have to be there my senses only detect one man.

It seems my hearing is the only sense still alive, and it's triggering my feelings. I hear his footsteps from his shoes, his feet, attached to his legs. The legs that had laid between my thighs, bouncing, thrusting. The firmness of his tread resembles the hardness of his muscles, his skin and manhood. We are out on the streets. I wouldn't know if i didn't recognize the sound of traffic, voices walking by and the echo of the city, bouncing against skyscrapers, whirling into our ears. Life as I know it stands still. As if I don't have to fly to Brussels tomorrow for a concert next sunday. I feel no urge to practise despite making music is my natural state of mind. Now I am only focused on the man walking next to me. Every sound, every sense goes right through me, down to my womanhood. I can still feel the hair on his legs on the inside of my thighs. My emptiness filled with his desire. His eruption of longing is still inside me. It can feel its wetness and it sticks inside my pubic hair. I can barely resist the urge to run my fingers through it, just to smell the lava from his volcano, but we are still walking in the streets of London.

I can hear a familiar sound. Coffee mugs clinking against each other. Water steaming from a coffee machine and the quiet talking of people having a relaxed moment in a busy city. We are near the Starbucks where it all started. We both stand still in a moment of nostalgia as if what happened was not just hours but years ago and us being together is as natural as can be.

"You want …? "
"Shall we … ?"

We speak at the same moment, and laugh as we look into each other's eyes. We go inside and at that moment I hear a woman's voice and it throws me down to earth in the split of a second.

"Tom? Oh my … Hiiii! What a coincidence … looook at youuu, … "

 

[coolpen]

“Tom? Oh my … Hiiii! What a coincidence … looook at youuu, … "

The woman’s voice excites me and terrifies me at the same time. I hadn’t expected to run into Natalie again, she’d told me she was moving to the countryside and although we hadn’t broken up, we’d accepted that that our relationship was over, that we’d both move on.

“Oh Hi, Natalie, so good to see you, how are you?”
I’m aware of Lyn standing beside me looking slightly puzzled and a bit concerned. Of course, in the brief time since Lyn and I had met we hadn’t had time to discuss anything about our personal lives or previous relationships, and meeting Natalie like this just hadn’t seemed possible.
I turned to Lyn and smiled at her then at Natalie.

“Lyn, this is Natalie – Natalie, this is Lyn. Natalie and I … “
I could sense both women waiting for some plausible explanation – Lyn not to be dismissed as a convenient flirtation and Natalie not to be dismissed as someone of no importance.
Both had an eyebrow raised, waiting and I could see that this situation might end with Lyn and Natalie on one side and me on the other.
The pause in the conversation was getting awkward. I had to say something and so tried some humour.

“Lyn was the victim of an attack by coffee and I was the attacker so after helping her clean up and get to an audition we’ve spent the rest of the day together. Lyn is a leading clarinettist and has landed the part of playing in a concert in Brussels this weekend.”
I could tell from the look in Natalie’s eyes that she wasn’t convinced by what I’d said and was filling in the missing narrative …. 'And after the audition you took her to a hotel and fucked her …'

“Oh, what a lovely story, what a coincidence you two meeting like that.” said Natalie looking triumphant.
She took Lyn’s arm.
“Tom didn’t spill coffee over me but he did run into my car. Perhaps we ladies should look after each other.”

 

[PrincessLyn]

Natalie is in everything I imagined an ex-girlfriend of Tom would look like. Sophisticated, eloquent, a beautiful perfect figure and an air of success and money. She definitely doesn't need a Stella McCartney dress to feel beautiful. Stella McCartney needs the Natalies of this world to shine in their creations. I feel like the small town country girl that I am. Who happened to have found joy in playing the clarinet and was willing to put endless effort in practicing it. Which brought her to this big city and for whom the sight, the energy and people and everything connected to it left her in awe and admiration. And this city was Natalies domain.

Natalie was friendly, ofcourse. Nothing is a defeat, everything an opportunity. Including Tom or lovers in genual. Always aiming for better and disregarding the weak, the once not getting her further in life. At least that's what I saw in her at first, in her handshake and smile, as she saw her ex with another woman.

But to my relief after a minute I also saw discomfort and sorrow in her eyes. Shurely, even to her standards Tom must have been a catch, a man, all friends would have been jealous about. Rich, successful and out of level handsome. A gentleman towards her family and an animal, a wild beast in bed. By her look I could tell she wasn't over him and by the awkward silence while Tom introduced me he still wanted to be in good harmony with her. Her hesitation did put her down to earth in my biased eyes.

“Tom didn’t spill coffee over me but he did run into my car. Perhaps we ladies should look after each other.”

She took my arm and went to a table. She didn't have a drink and just expected Tom to serve her.

"An artist … every one respects a good artist. Especially classical educated musicians. Must be a thrill when aristocrats, doctors, lawyers, CEO's look up to you when you perform on a stage. I just assume you are one of the best when you perform between London and Brussels, and Tom mentions your concert."

"Well, it's hard to reach the top. Big orchestras only need 3 or 4 clarinets so they can pick only the best. Thanks for the compliment. I just met Tom today, we are not, well … actually I know very little about him."

"Nobody knows much about him. The brief period I was with him he never went to work. A couple of phone calls a day are enough to maintain his exorbitant lifestyle. Money is always there, endlessly. Time is fluid, just like attention. You are his queen and you certainly feel that way when around him. But he can disappear for days without any notion. But remember, it's unpossible to get over him. I can see from your eyes he got a hold on you."

"Is it true, did he hit your car?"

"Yes, I had my doubts back then, thought it was just a way to get a date. Now that I hear your story I suppose it was. But nonetheless we are adults and I don't regret a minute we spent together."

Tom comes with our drinks. Natalie shifts towards me although Tom could easily sit next to me. Instead we sit tight touching each other. Her hand on my thigh. A caring hand, like an older sister protecting her sibling. The nearness and effort of this elegant worldly woman to get close to me touch me made my heart once again bounce.

I was sucked into an exciting, dangerous and adventurous world.

 

[coolpen]

Natalie and Lyn were deep in conversation when Tom returned to the table with Natalie’s drink and she nodded a cursory thank you at him before returning to Lyn.

“So Lyn, I know nothing technical about music although I couldn’t live without music in in my life as I couldn’t live without … well I’m sure you know what I mean.”
She took a sip of her drink before continuing.
“But it must be very different for you being the person who entrances people like me.
I imagine that learning a new piece is rather like discovering a new pathway or lane. At first one needs a map, or in your case the music, but as one becomes familiar with it one remembers the route and can now enjoy the views, the remembered features like a gateway or a particular tree, and the more that one travels the path one sees new things – perhaps some birds or wild flowers – always something new to inspire one.”

Tom felt he had to join in.
“That’s an interesting analogy Natalie, very eloquent for you.”

Natalie shot him a poisonous glance.
“Perhaps you never listened before?” She returned to Lyn.

“Yes, new things to see and experience and sometimes, a new path to follow, perhaps for you a new way of interpreting a passage in the music in a way that you’ve never done before.”
She paused again and looked at Lyn, trying to gauge her response to what she’d said.
“I think life can be like that, don’t you? New ways of doing things new paths to follow?
Perhaps our lucky accidents with Tom have given us a new path to follow if we choose.”

She played with the stem of her glass for a moment, her fingers sliding gently over it before turning to look at Lyn directly.
“Perhaps we should take the opportunity to follow that new path. What do you think?”
And as she said this, she gave Lyn’s thigh a distinct squeeze.

 

[PrincessLyn]

Natalie quickly changed subject as Tom came closer. There was tension between them. Ofcourse, they once had a relationship that didn't work out, but to me it felt like there still was a dependency toward each other, or was it an addiction? They didn't seem to have lost contact and still had a bond. Maybe a professional bond or just being good friends? Or maybe friends with benefits?

"To learn a play is an individual process. First you have to manage your technical skills. When you can read and perform the sheet you practise, imagining how it sounds in a group or with an orchestra. It is finally the conductor who makes the play a living entity. A good conductor gets the music under your skin. For the audience but also for me as a musician who is part of that play. One can perform the same play multiple times with the same conductor but it is always a journey, an intimate one."

I felt Natalies excitement through her hand on my thigh. Tom recognized her desire, grinning. As she implied to follow a new path together, a plan unfolded in his mind

"Let's take that journey all together, first stop Brussels." Tom said boldly, enthusiastic. The natural, free and easy way he suggested this drastic, sudden plan sounded determined but also demanding and haughty.

A few months ago I made the decision to leave the orchestra for a while. It's the privilege of a senior musician and it's actually promoted to enhance once horizon. My primary thought was to turn around and enrich my personal life, and not in the least my sexual life. I longed for a, maybe temporary, unbound, licentious life without burdens or boundaries. To explore the deep feelings that music formed inside me. I imagined the best way to do this would be in the company of rock stars. And now these ex lovers turned everything upside down in an erotic, exciting way.

These two intelligent people who I met by surprise were now pulling at me for my attention. But I had no idea if we would go my path, our path or Tom von Karajan's path.

"I hope you like Rachmaninoff's second!?"

 

[coolpen]

Tom’s suggestion that they all travelled to Brussels wasn’t at all what Natalie had in mind.
She’d imagined traveling overnight by train to Brussels with Lyn in a Wagon Lit as newly met, yet unconsummated, lovers and then, with Lyn on the high of her performance and lifted by the rapturous applause of the audience, retiring to the decadent luxury of one of the finest hotels where they’d toast Lyn’s success and their new found love with champagne and, swayed by the afterglow of Lyn’s performance and the champagne, make slow, languorous love to each other until they slept in each other’s arms.
But now it seemed different. Tom’s suggestion boded a slow, dark introduction, in which the theme of their relationship would be introduced, leading to an impassioned climax in which they all had to play a part and she realised she was jealous of the fact that Tom had almost certainly fucked Lyn after their ‘accident’ just as he’d fucked her after ‘accidentally’ bumping into her car.
She felt used, second hand somehow, as if she was just another woman to be bedded.
And now he had the temerity to suggest that all three of them went to Brussels so that he could bed both of them again, but this time together and in the same bed.

“Natalie?” Tom’s voice startled her. “You seem miles away, Are you alright?”
She forced herself to smile and look at him.
“Yes, fine thanks. I was just thinking about what you suggested.” She turned to Lyn. “Will the concert organiser provide you with hotel accommodation? If not, you and I could share and Tom could have his own room … couldn’t you Tom? That would save having three separate rooms.”

Tom laughed.
“Darling Natalie, you know me far too well to think that we’d have to put up with hotel rooms. I’ll reserve a suite, a large one, big enough for all of us. I’m sure we’ll want to celebrate Lyn’s success after the concert and we don’t want to have to run up and down hotel corridors.”
He looked from Natalie to Lyn and then from Lyn to Natalie.

“Good, then that’s all agreed. A weekend together in Brussels. We are going to have fun aren’t we.”

 

[PrincessLyn]

I always like the cadence of a train. Especially inside the tunnel, where there is nothing to see and time is only defined by the rhythm of the wheels jumping from one rail to another. Thoughts come up and drift away in the darkness of this endless tube.

Nathalie sat opposite me and was talking to Tom who was sitting next to her. I wasn't listening, only watching their facial expressions. Both are very dominant, every word is to be taken as pronounced, not up for discussion or a point of view. Natalie was stunned when Tom turned around her plans. But he could be even more persuasive and commanding for what was important to him.

Things went so fast I didn't fully understand what Natalie was up to and why. She didn't know me but my affair with Tom was enough to steal me from him? Not just to have fun for a while but to follow a new path, me and her?

Not only did I just meet the most handsome, kind, obliging man with whom i discovered sexual pleasure i never knew was possible, i did not have any feelings for women that way. But Natalie was intriguing. Her beauty isn't one to dislike. She exudes effort, hard work to gain what she achieved, to be successful but also to look good. Not a spoiled princess who got what she wanted only from her looks.

I looked at her and fantasized how being intimate with her would be like. My lips on hers, our soft delicate skin touching, while I like this rough touch of a man contrary to mine so much. Her scent, beside the Thierry Mugler perfume she always wears. I know, longing, desire and hunger can be learned. I think back to the first time I gave head. The moist, the smell and taste, the peculiar soft skin around that swollen appendix of male jubilance in my mouth. I could hardly stop my gag reflex. But I learned it was and is an easy and powerful way to give satisfaction, and I overcame my dislike quickly, enjoying it, feeling his excitement through my body. I see Tom and the outline of his dick through his pants and I could fall on my knee right there.

I touch my crotch under the cardigan on my lap. Push my fingers on my clit through the fabric of my skirt. I imagine what it would feel like if it were Natalies fingers. This woman touching me, arousing me while the man I long for, we both long for, watches us. My hands touching her soft breasts, her hips and legs while Tom strokes his dick slowly with his strong, masculin hand.

Suddenly sunlight was flowing into our cabin again.

 

[coolpen]

It feels as if Natalie is trying to make amends with me but for what? It’s the way she’s talking to me, almost overly pleasant, and I wonder if she’s jealous of Lyn. Perhaps she’s guessed that Lyn and I had sex but she was always clear that she didn’t want to be in an exclusive relationship with me and I doubt very much that she’s been celibate since she left London for the countryside.
Her body language is interesting, sitting so that she’s partly facing me and mirroring my movements.
Every now and then she uncrosses her legs, smooths her skirt and then crosses them again towards me.
She is giving a display of intimacy that I’m sure she hopes will be rewarded later in Brussels.

And then there’s Lyn, staring out of the window, deep in thought, perhaps thinking about her coming appearance at the concert or perhaps thinking about what Natalie had been suggesting when we’d all had a drink together.
There was no doubt that Natalie had been trying to seduce Lyn away from me and also no doubt that once Natalie had achieved that she’d want her for herself.
Natalie had never tried to hide her bisexuality and it was one of the things that made her such a sexually exciting woman.

And then Lyn, with her hand under her cardigan which is covering her lap. I’m certain I know what she’s doing and the thought of it hardens me, my cock straining against my trousers and I start to fantasise about what we’ll do in the hotel suite once the concert is over. Champagne for sure and then?
Although Natalie is talking to me, my mind is elsewhere, imagining the three of us in bed together, limbs entwined, hands wandering, mouths exploring, tasting each other, watching Lyn and Natalie pleasuring each other and then pleasuring me.

The sunlight floods into the cabin as the train emerges from a tunnel and I smile at Lyn.
“Not long now.” I say ambiguously. Not long until the concert or not long until the three of us are making love?

 

[PrincessLyn]

Brussels is a difficult city. The train station is dull, unimaginative. The people on the street don't seem to have any connection toward each other. Cultures, institutes, temporary residents seem to live on a schizophrenic island no one understands. One has to dig deep into the soul of this city to find the real Brusselleer.

As we walk through the town toward the beautiful, yet violently overdone Grand-Place where our hotel is, I feel impersonated with this city. It's not the perfect, powerful and slim metropolis where big shiny skyscrapers reflect the harshness of money and the insignificance of individuals. Brussels is modest, shy, struggling with itself yet curious. But there is a beauty underneath the surface one has to search for and it is staggeringly intimate for those who find it.

Walking there I feel small and naive, as if a bubble is about to burst. Natalie and Tom are more a unity than I realised. It occurred to me this whole meeting at Starbucks may not have been a coincidence. Ofcourse, how could I have been so stupid. But why? Why me and what could be the purpose? There is always a sexual tension around us, but up till now for me it felt like a crush, like re-defining sexuality. But them, they are world wise, experienced and up to something.

The hotel room is as expected, big, glamorous, expensive … It's a suite with two enormous beds, two bathrooms and a giant living room. The door closes behind the hotel manager and we are alone. Suddenly I am scared. An exciting, arousing anxiety. I feel lost in this big room. Tom and Natalie come towards me, determined and possessive. My fear arouses me and I am …. ready to be used.

 

[coolpen]

As we walk to the hotel, Lyn seems nervous, lagging behind Natalie and me, and I wonder if she feels excluded by Natalie’s reappearance. I slow a little, waiting for Lyn, and take her arm, hoping to reassure her but I know that her upcoming performance will be on her mind as well as some doubts about the new dynamic in our relationship now that Natalie is with us.
Natalie was explicit in her suggestions to Lyn back in London and I wonder if she’s afraid of what might happen when we get to the hotel. Of course, I don’t know whether Lyn has ever slept with a woman before and perhaps it’s that thought that might be weighing on her mind.
On the other hand, I know from our time together that she is completely uninhibited when it comes to sex and perhaps what I’m sensing is a nervous excitement at the possibility of her discovering something new with Natalie.
We shall have to see.

I tip the hotel manager generously. As requested, there’s an ice-bucket with a bottle of champagne and three glasses waiting for us and I open the bottle.
“To Lyn, wishing you every success in your performance.” We drink and I continue.
“And now we have tonight to relax and enjoy ourselves. Why don’t we all shower and change before we have dinner? I’m sure you will both want to freshen up after the journey.”
Natalie made a suggestion.
“Lyn, why don’t you and I share this room and bathroom? I know men find it so annoying the way we ladies spread all our cosmetics around.”
She turned to Tom.
“Now Tom, off you go to your bathroom and give us some time to make ourselves beautiful, we might be quite a long time.” She ushered Tom out of the room and closed the door behind him, leaning against it as she did, adding a finality to Tom's absence. She picked up the bottle of champagne.

“So now Lyn, we have a little time to ourselves,” she said, stroking Lyn’s cheek with the back of her fingers. “Enough time to get to know each other better hey?” and she kissed Lyn’s lips, just lightly, but enough to let Lyn know what she wanted and how she hoped they’d spend the time together.
“Why don’t we share a bath? You can wash my back if I can wash yours."

 

[PrincessLyn]

Natalies kiss was soft. Her lips on mine were like two velvet napkins briefly fondling each other while blown in the wind. My tongue touched hers, light-footed, sensitive, exploring. Her smell and taste is like her touch, her appearance; feminine, soft and precious. Longing to be longed for, for the body to be treated like the only and most valuable, beautiful creature that had ever been seen. Natalie touched me, my breast, her hand went down under the waistband of my skirt.

At that moment I felt a clash. We were the same but to me sex is not about mutuality, instead it is about opposit attraction. My body, my sex, contrary to that of a partner. Tom had put masculinity to a next level. Every muscle, every single hair on his body, his confident straight posture, his hornyness exposed by his erected penis. I fell for it badly. With Natalie I missed all that, it was like kissing and touching a 30 pound slimmer version of myself.

Natalie recognized my hesitation. She looked me in the eyes with compassion, understanding. It struck me how beautiful she was. Her eyes, a deep greenish blue, open and honest. Her blond almost white short hair, curled and mixed up perfectly to create a natural young and nonchalant look. Surely i had fantasized and felt sexually attracted to some women, colleagues and students i knew. And only lately I decided, but not done it yet, to express my feelings to a long time friend. But that was before Tom.

The beauty of Natalie was more than I could dream of and I decided to work on it. Pleasure is effort and can be learned, should be learned and I decided to learn from the best, from Tom. Surely I couldn't bring out my masculinity but instead I could put in my femininity as much as I could and I would Natalie give what I had to offer.

I took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom. The bed's silky white sheets were as soft and sensitive as Natalies. I laid her down in the middle, arms spread, and instructed her not to touch anything. I went down to her feet and took off her shining pumps. Her nylon covered toenails were as red as her fingernails. I lifted one leg gently at her knee, rubbing the side and sole of her foot on my cheek before caressing her toes with my lips. I put her foot on my lap and my hands went up her calf her thigh to the band of her pantyhose. Slowly pulling it down, unwrapping a first layer of her natural beauty.

Her skin was soft. Not the slightest indication or evidence that body hair had ever covered her flawless legs. I massaged her foot, her lower leg. Her leg was as light as a feather and I could tell she was totally relaxed, ready to undergo what I was up to. Her pumps left a stretch mark on her heel. Just a slight temporary skin mark that stood out from the perfectness of her feet. I licked it as if it was a wound that had to be treated with the biggest care. I took her leg higher, her skin leading over my lips, under my nose, tasting, smelling and feeling her. Her excitement came out of her pores, sweet and salty.

I parted her legs pulling up her skirt. The soft muscled flesh of her inner thighs were feeling and tasting promising. A woman's parted softness joining at the ultimate soft lips covering her longings or revealing it when she wants to. Revealing her womaness only to whom she wants to, to whom she entrusts her feelings and longings to, to heat up and cherish the fire inside her.

Her mons and labia are as hairless and flawless as the rest of her. Her hand came towards my face out of a reflex, impatient to outburst her sexual feelings. But I pushed back her arm and demanded that she would not move anymore. I held back my urge to lick her and instead I ran my finger slowly through the edge of her lips. She was moist, dripping, her vagina breathing for attention. But I just slightly, teasingly touched the edges of her vulva, only to dig a little deeper between the upper lip folds covering her clit. I rubbed some of her own fluids over her hard pebble before tasting her juice on my finger. It was sharp, spicy like myself just after my cycle. It gets softer in the weeks after and I guess it works the same for Natalie. I like that sharp touch, it reminds me of those days in a month when my inner discomfort has come to a rest and only the hornyness of my period remains and my body rewards my endeavor with the best possible orgasm.

I stroke my finger again to pick up more juice to enjoy herself. Rub it on her lips, her tongue. I sat down on her lap, my dress lifted up to my belly. I took it off over my head and hesitated and played a bit with my tits before unleashing my bra. My breasts are big and they certainly need the support of a bra. They came down, hanging and I supported them with my hands for a moment teasing towards Natalie's face until I was comfortable enough to let them hang freely. I bent over to kiss Natalie. My breasts squeezed on the linen fabric of Natalies blazer. Her mouth was filled with the drool of her longing.

I opened Natalies blazer and blouse. Her boobs were hidden in a full cup padded white bra. Even laying down her firm breasts gives her a perfect hourglass shaped figure. I took her blazer and blouse underneath her and opened her bra. Her tits are firm, perfectly round pointed towards her nipples, standing out profoundly and hard. I licked them with my lips around her erect areolas. Her breasts are firm and there is no movement when massaging them. My own soft tits were hanging down rubbing her crotch.

My face went down between her breasts over her muscled belly. I took her skirt with me as I went down and slowly worked my way around her vulva before eventually going down from her belly button to the top of her opening. Licking her moist, wet lips twirling towards her clit. Flipping it, sucking it makes her tremble and shake while my thumb finds a way from the backside of her ass into her vagina, while my finger stretches her butthole. Carefully going inside and squeezing her butt and vagina in a rhythmic movement.

Natalies moaning and screaming, her squirting out of every possible opening told me my feminin approach worked for her. As I worked my way towards Natalies orgasm, bent over on my knees, I felt two big hands seperating my knees a bit further. I temper my beastly shout into Natalies mons as Tom pushes his dick hard inside me. It seemed bigger and thicker than before. Every stroke went inside my vagine, through my body, outside my mouth and into Natalie.