Music To My Lips

Content Advisory: this story contains explicit m/f sex, adult language, and a musician with very skilled hands


In the dim light of the bar, I watched Brandon and the way his fingers moved nimbly over the frets of his guitar.

How would they feel moving over my naked skin, playing with my clit, and sliding inside me?

The skilled hands of a musician, mmmmmm…. I let my thoughts wander as to where his fingers would go, and how they would touch my firm nub, lightly, yet with such expertise. Thank goodness I wore a lined D-cup bra, otherwise my peaked nipples would have shown through then and there.

“Bond?” a loud voice broke me out of my reverie. “Bond Trellis? Is that you? Shit! How many years has it been?”

I’d become so engrossed in what I wanted Brandon to do to me, I’d failed to realize his band had taken a break and he now stood before me.

Staring at me almost eye to eye, his broad shoulders looking good enough to bite.

Heat and dampness gathered in my panties as I stumbled for a reply. “Uhm, let’s not count the years, shall we?” Dwelling on the fifteen or so years since college would only make me self-conscious.

He chuckled in understanding, the sound reverberating through my stomach. “Okay, I gotcha,” his long brown locks tumbled around his rugged features, reaching almost to his chest. A chest begging to be naked and pressed against my aroused nipples.

“Damn, though—you still look the same. Even better, actually.” His brown eyes danced while a smirk played on his full lips, lips skilled in belting out song lyrics.

“You still have your long hair,” I reached out to pull a lock toward me, and brushed it against my lips. Oh, to have that long hair caressing my other lips, too -- God -- I’d spread my legs wide to get those linebacker shoulders working me!

“I always liked your hair short, though I don’t remember it being quite so reddish back then,” he said. Following my earlier liberty, his hand brushed the nape of my neck to touch my hair.

Electricity shot through my body, making my fingers tingle, sending ungodly sensations through my pussy.

I heard him suck in a breath and I glanced down— his erection pressed against the front of his jeans. His arousal called to me, reassuring me I wasn't the only one affected by the instant attraction.

“Well, if you’d like to know if I dye it, there’s only one sure-fire way to find out, Brandon,” The bold words tripped from tongue, shocking me.

He removed his warm hand from my neck and reached into his back pocket. “Here,” he said, handing me keys. I didn’t even notice the keychain, because his brown eyes burned into mine, mirroring my own heat. “I’ve got one more set with the guys, about an hour, and I’ll be home. We can make up for lost time then, okay?”

I took the keys in my hand and smiled a delicious, vixen grin before I turned, making sure my ass swayed as I walked out the door.

******************

Walking through Brandon's home, I learned more about him than I ever did from the few letters we'd exchanged one summer. I knew he’d been in a band back then, and he’d even made me a tape, but now— it was his life. Pictures lined his walls—from U2 to the Beatles, to ones I’d never even heard of, like indie and local rock bands.

Artist’s hands, musicians hands. I shivered with the thought of those skilled fingers.

I removed my underwear and put my jeans back on, their rough feel against my pussy kept me in a heightened state.

I walked straight over to the stacks upon stacks of CDs, looking for suitable lovemaking music. U2’s Achtung Baby reminded me of lustful college days and seemed perfect.

No sooner had the first guitar riffs of Zoo Station pounded through the speakers when I felt a whisp of soft, long hair against my cheek.

“Hey, whatcha doin?” Brandon whispered against my ear, his lips pressing my cheek, and that firm body molding to my backside. My nipples pebbled, begging to be touched as I instinctively pushed my ass out to grind against his jeans. A slight wiggle from me and I felt his length harden.

“Just,” was all I was able to get out before being whipped around—hot, hungry lips met mine and a solid wall of muscle pressed against my breasts. Eager to feel him, I shoved my hands under his shirt, while his slid under my bra, cupping my heavy, rounded breasts.

Two guitar-calloused thumbs teased my sensitive peaks, pulling a moan from me. Warm fingers gently squeezed me, before giving a slight pinch and pulling away. My hands were gently pulled from his heated skin as he lowered to his knees.

The delicate tickling of his hot tongue trailing a path downward had me clenching my inner walls in anticipation.

“Why didn’t we do this years ago?” Brandon asked as he pulled my jeans to the floor, exposing my shaven pussy.

“It wouldn’t have been nearly as good. I was a prude, and not nearly as experie— ahhh.”

His forefinger slid inside me, its roughened tip perfectly massaging my g-spot, sending sparks throughout my body while his tongue lashed out, stroking my clit. His long hair tickled my hips, occasionally flitting across the folds of my sex.

“I want the real thing,” I said, pushing his hand out of me, before leaning down to grab at his jeans.

“Wait!” Brandon stopped my hands. He stood and scooped me up, lifting me out of my pants and heading down the hall. “We need some room to maneuver.”

The soft blankets felt cool on my heated skin, thrilling me all over as their texture mixed with the sounds of the music drifting in from the other room. Brandon leaned over, pressing another hungry kiss to my mouth, before stepping away to remove the rest of his clothes. I did the same and in a flash he was crouched over me with the thick head of his cock pressing for entry into my slick pussy.

Fire spread throughout my body as Brandon entered fully, stroking me in a solid rhythm. I wrapped my legs and crossed them high over his back, so as not to hinder his thrusts.

A hot hand held on tight to my ass, the other around my back, as we moved in perfect sync, his hair falling like a curtain on either side of my face. Just the two of us, in this glorious moment riding, sharing, owning each other.

The lyrics of the song playing were never more true, “waves of joy, I reached out to the one...”.

My insides hugged Brandon’s length tightly, coaxing him to move faster and faster, in and out as my wetness made sliding easy. A moan escaped me, encouraging Brandon to move his arms to either side of my torso, providing him with better leverage. Another sound of ecstasy ripped from my lips, louder than before, and he clamped his mouth down on mine. His tongue lashed into my mouth fast and hard, moving to the same rhythm as his cock.

His member throbbed against my tight walls, I felt the fire exploding through me, engulfing my body in ecstasy. Inside me, the delicious warmth from his release tickled me with pleasure. Cool air met my mouth as his soft lyrical groan of satisfaction filled the room.

Brandon’s brown eyes looked into my hazel ones with a burning soulfulness as he slid his arms out from my sides, releasing his muscular chest on top of my breasts. Tilting my head, my lips meet his, tenderly, as he placed his head next to mine. And so we shared a most blissful aftermath.

I wonder if he’ll write a song about me?

\\\\\\\ Faye Markaway //////

Blogging at Everything Erotic

If you liked Bond's adventure today, please check back next month to find out what happens when Bond visits the new spa in her town. Bond Trellis and the Ghost of the EuroSpa coming in January to Everything Erotic!

Copyright © 2010 by Faye Markaway

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.