The Piano Teacher

"Moonlight Serenade, my boy. Play it with passion!"

Brian's fingers played softly over the keys, dancing on eggshells, his tips barely pressing on the white and black brushes, stroking together a picture of beauty, passion, joy, desire, and then rising to a climax, pulsing and swaying with eagerness and build until the explosion of ecstasy.

Brian's shoulders shook at the expenditure of emotion. The song was played perfectly. When the last note faded away into silence, a deep voice behind him softly spoke.

"Wonderful job. You've passed the final course."

Brian turned to see his instructor, Mr. Vincent, with a soft smile on his face. He had learned so much from his teacher, but one of the things that he had discovered under Mr. Vincent's tutelage was that he, Brian McVane, was hopelessly attracted to his instructor.

He had never been gay before, or even attracted to another man. But as soon as he met Vincent...his well-built chest, the ever-present 5 o'clock shadow on his chin and cheeks, his smile that wrinkled upwards and hit his blue eyes like a bolt of lightning...Brian didn't think that Mr. Vincent had noticed, but there were times after he had felt his instructors firm hand on his shoulder, his face close to his, breathing methods and music and rhythm, that he had stood up with a clear erection in his pants. This had been adjusted as soon as possible, but still, Brian didn't know what to do with this desire. Mr. Vincent was in his 40's, gray hair already streaking his black, but Brian, who was 24, could care less. He wanted Mr. Vincent, but was still trying to deny the fact that the desire was there. He was barely able to keep himself at bay.

The tension had built and built, although Mr. Vincent taught like he normally did. But as the lessons continued, every touch, every breath, every time Mr. Vincent brushed his cheek with Brian to show him closely how a note was to be played...Brian jumped. And not just his feet.

"Thank you, sir. for everything you've taught me."

Brian stood up, and so did Mr. Vincent. Their eyes met and for a moment the electricity was more than Brian could stand. His tall frame shook tremulously with desire, but he was still convinced Mr. Vincent didn't know.

"You're free to go, Brian. you've done a wonderful job. Every note on key, every lesson profitable...it gives an old man like me happiness to see the next generation coming along."

Brian chuckled. "Mr. Vincent, you're not old."

"You'd be surprised, son. Some parts of my body feel older than most."

Probably not the parts I think about, Brian thought to himself. But there they were, standing, in their dress pants, and an erection right now would be too obvious.

There was a long pause. Brian shuffled his feet. The atmosphere was thick, warm, powerful. He wanted so much more, but if that's all there was...

"Mr. Vincent, thank you for teaching me." He walked over to Mr. Vincent, shook his hand, and Mr. Vincent

pulled him in

for a hug.

Brian knew, he knew, he knew...this was just a friendly hug, right? A mentor's hug...they held there for a while, Mr. Vincent's shadow bristling against Brian's smooth face. It seemed like hours. Moved beyond himself, Brian's lips turned and he brushed his instructor's cheek, gently, a whisper, a ghost, but such a wonderful ghost. Then he knew he had overstepped his bounds, and began to pull away from the embrace, looking away, head down, but still in his arms...

"Brian."

The low voice commanded, and like so many weeks before, Brian looked up only to have his lips meet Mr. Vincent's. His mouth was enveloped by his instructors, and their embrace changed, Brian's hand sliding down the slick velvet of his instructor's vest to the small of his back. Mr. Vincent went straight down to Brian's buttocks and squeezed. Brian gasped and stepped forward, and his erect penis met Mr. Vincent's pants and pushed in. Brian felt something large, something long, brush against his stomach during the embrace. He knew what it was and shuddered with anticipation. Mr. Vincent pulled away and smiled.

"You can call me Vince."

Vince led Brian over to a chair, still kissing. Brian was drinking in every part, pushing and whimpering, and trying to get closer and deeper into Vince's embrace. Vince sat down and unzipped his suit pants, revealing black silk boxers and a large bulge in the middle. The smell was intoxicating. Brian's mouth was watering as he kissed the smooth silk, feeling the hardness underneath. Low rumbles came from Vince. Brian unbuttoned the middle, and out came a large head, then a larger shaft. He began kissing it immediately, feeling the smooth skin, the veins throbbing, the heat, the pulsing. Hearing the approving growls from Vince, he began bobbing his head up and down the wonderful goodness that was his instructor's manhood.
Soon he could feel Vince thrusting along, and Brian unzipped his pants and began stroking his own dick uncontrollably. Vince started to gasp, and Brian knew what was coming, but he wanted it so bad that he didn't care. He began sucking harder, dipping deeper, and there was a sound of coming thunder, and Vince arched his back and exploded into Brian's mouth. Brian swallowed every drop, deciding that it didn't taste bad at all. It tasted like white fire.

Vince wasn't done. He pushed Brian softly on the floor, and Brian laid back, his dick sprouting up from his navy suit like a porpoise on the sea, and Vince joined him on the floor, kissing Brian once again. This time Vince licked his hand several times, reached down, and began pumping Brian for his own white fire, his tongue licking the inside of Brian's mouth, his strong hands caressing and then pumping again. Soon Brian felt a stirring, he felt the aching increase, and he started to cry out, but was muffled by Vince's ever-insistent kisses. Vince started to pump faster and faster, them rocking back and forth on the floor, Brian in ecstasy. Soon Brian cried out and let it go, his sperm shooting out onto the satin carpet of the performance room floor.

They lay there for a while, breathing heavily, Brian sighing and shivering in ecstasy, Vince's broad shoulders and burly arms enveloping Brian in an affectionate embrace. Finally, they got up silently.

"I'll clean that up," chuckled Vince. "Just remember me every time you hit a note up there in the stands, remember us, remember everything I taught you. Not just the music on paper, but the music of two people together."

Brian walked out of the room slowly, and he did remember Mr. Vincent every time he sat in front of audiences and played beautiful classic concertos. Everyone's favorite song seemed to be Moonlight Serenade, and every time he played it, when he got to the climax...well, I think you can guess what happened.

The End.