Music

Story Info
She plays her music far too loudly.
3.4k words
4.39
32.1k
19

Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 10/08/2015
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
Ashson
Ashson
8,516 Followers

There had been a violent storm overnight and I'd been called out for emergency services. A tree had come down on a house and we had to get the people out and put up some temporary coverings on what was left of the roof to prevent what damage we could. Then there were the two trees on the road that we had to get off the road. And it was wet and cold. Fortunately I was in a position that I could sleep in the next day and I swore I wouldn't be out of bed before noon.

Typically, the day after the storm was beautiful. The sun was shining brightly in a cloudless sky and the temperature was already climbing, promising a nice hot day. I observed all this at the ungodly hour of nine, hours before I wanted to be awake. Why was I awake at nine instead of sleeping the sleep of the valiant and righteous?

Well, for a start, the bed seemed to be shaking. The windows were rattling. The whole house seemed to have the nervous jitters. Earthquake, you suggest? I wish.

It was, for want of a better name, music. Teeth grinding, nerve rattling, headache generating music. Imagine a full orchestra playing the 1812 overture, with cannons, in your bedroom while you're trying to sleep. It would have been preferable to the soul shattering din I was getting. Quite frankly, if the bass got any louder I think my windows would all have shattered. I was surprised to find they hadn't.

"Ah," I thought to myself. "The MacKenzies have gone out, leaving Amanda at home alone."

There was no way known Amanda would play music at that volume if her parents were at home. Her father would have walked around putting his foot through every speaker in the house and considered the cost justified.

Amanda likes loud music. She has been asked, told, ordered, threatened, to keep the volume down, but she does tend to forget on occasions. Like this morning. If I wanted quiet I'd have to go over there and request it.

Don't get me wrong. Amanda is a nice girl apart from this quirk. She's around nineteen, dark haired, brown eyed, reasonable figure, reasonably pretty. And she's not hard of hearing so she doesn't need the music at that volume.

I dragged myself out of bed, had a quick shower, threw on some clothes and went next door, feeling justifiably resentful. I rang the doorbell, which was polite, but a bit of a joke. Who could hear it over the music? Checking the door I found it unlocked, opened it, and walked in.

The main blast of music seemed to be coming from the front room so I walked on in, intending to turn it off and speak to Amanda when she came running. It turned out I wouldn't have to wait for Amanda as she was already in the front room, doing exercises or something, in time to the music.

Amanda had her back to me. From what I could see she was wearing an abbreviated one-piece gym costume that had to have been sewn onto her body, it looked so tight. I mentioned that she had a reasonable figure. I have to amend that. In that outfit she had a damn fine figure.

I called out to her but she couldn't hear me. My voice just blended into the raucous cacophony of sound blasting from the speakers. She was definitely going to deafen herself. I was about to walk around in front of her so she could see me, but then she changed her exercise routine or dance or whatever the hell she was doing.

Have you ever seem videos of girls twerking? It's sexually stimulating, what with that squatting stance and those hip movements that have their bottoms bouncing happily. That's what Amanda started doing, going into a nice squat and humping away without a partner.

It would embarrass her to be caught doing that sort of thing so I didn't walk around to where she could see me. Instead, I moved up behind her and put out my hand, palm up. Timing it right, Amanda twerked her bottom sharply downward just as my hand slid into place, with the result that the slapped her pudenda fairly and squarely onto my hand, which naturally curved to cover all the area. That thin outfit she was wearing let me feel the heat of her right through the material.

As you might expect, finding herself slapping her pussy against a man's hand came as something of a shock to her. She promptly lifted up off my hand with a shriek I heard over the music. I should point out that she didn't lift her pussy up off my hand immediately, because my hand followed her upward movement, keeping contact. Contact was only broken when she made a leap forward, landed on the couch, and curled up into a ball.

I took the chance to step over to the stereo and hit the off switch, feeling the blessed calm of silence descend.

"Morning, Amanda," I said.

She stared at me for a moment, slowly letting recognition filter through her stunned mind.

"You, you. . ." she stuttered. "My god, I thought I was going to be raped and murdered. This is it, I told myself. I'm dead. And it's just you, you evil pervert. What the hell do you think you're doing?"

She might have started with a stutter, but she finished with a furious shriek.

"I'll tell you what I'm not doing," I countered. "I'm not home in bed after a hard night out with the emergency services. And do you know why I'm not home in bed? That's right. Your perpetual noise machine."

"All you had to do was knock and ask me to turn it down. Have you heard of phones? They let you send messages without even leaving the house."

"I did knock," I pointed out. "I did phone. No answer. I stood behind you and yelled your name and you didn't hear me from three paces away. So I touched you to attract your attention."

"You call that touching?"

"Well, yes. You felt it, didn't you? Why on earth did you have the music that loud? You know you've been asked repeatedly not to use volumes that interfere with the neighbours. You're going to damage your own hearing as well as get in trouble with the law. I could easily file a nuisance complaint about you."

"I just like loud music sometimes, and you're changing the subject. You goosed me. You sexually assaulted me."

"If you like loud music then I suggest you get some actual music. What was coming out of your speakers was pure noise without a shred of musical meaning. And I didn't goose you. I just held out my hand and you sat on it."

"Oh! That is such a lie. You deliberately poked me there knowing how I'd react. You wanted me to think I was going to be attacked. You deliberately tried to scare me. And just because you've got old fashioned taste in music doesn't mean I have."

"You worry too much about sex. Too much effort for me to try and rape you. You're just trying to turn the subject away from your excessive noise, and the fact that you have been told about it before. I just feel I'm entitled to sleep after being up all night with emergency work."

"Oh, I'm so sorry you can't sleep your life away, but it is daytime. And just what do you mean, too much effort?"

"Geez, you do seem to be fixated on sex," I grumbled.

I took a couple of quick steps towards her and grabbed her ankles before she could move. With a quick jerk I lifted them high, leaving her sprawled on her back on the couch.

"To get anywhere," I pointed out, poking her in a sensitive spot, "I'd have to get past this thing you've got sewn on. As far as I can tell the only way to get it off would be to ask you to wait here while I went and found a pair of scissors."

"This thing, as you call it, is a leotard, and they peel off very easily. If anyone tried to cut it they'd owe me for a new one and a good one isn't cheap. And you had no right to poke me there."

"Are you asking me to peel it off?" I asked as I released her ankles and stepped back. "Tempting, as I want to spank you, and a spanking is always better on a bare bottom."

"Spank me? What for? What did I do? You wouldn't dare."

"What did I do?" I mimicked. "The excessive noise thing, remember? You have been warned that there would be consequences if you kept on doing it. And what on earth was that simulated sex dance you were doing?"

"You've always implied that the consequences would be deafness, not spankings," she practically snarled back at me. "And it's not a simulated sex dance. It's called twerking. Everyone does it. It's a great slimming exercise for the hips."

"Really? Have you ever tried doing it while straddling a boy? I can guarantee he wouldn't be getting slimmer in certain parts of his anatomy."

"You're disgusting. The music's off, so feel free to go away."

"But we haven't finished discussing the consequences," I pointed out. "You know. Something like that spanking you don't want."

"Just what are you getting at?"

"Well, you probably can't tell because I smile a lot, but I am really, really cross with you. You've been warned a number of times in the past but it doesn't seem to sink in. So this time there's going to be a penalty. Your parents aren't here to administer one so I guess it's up to me. I'll give you a choice, being a nice chap and all that. You can take off that leotard and I'll put you across my knee and paddle your backside while you squirm about and hope I don't finish off by ravishing you."

I put a nice rolling R on the ravishing, raising my eyebrows a couple of times while I did so.

"Or," I continued, "you can take off that leotard, push me flat on my back and ravish me, twerking style. I won't resist."

"You don't seriously think I'm going to take off my leotard, do you?"

I just waited, saying nothing while she glared at me.

"And what on earth gave you the idea that I'd sit on you and have sex with you?"

She sounded peeved.

"Well, there's this," I said, taking her hand and pressing it against me, letting her see that I was ready for her. "It keeps sending me suggestions. Plus you were twerking very enthusiastically and you've got sex on your mind. Right now you're starting to wonder what it would be like to straddle me and take me. Have you ever been on top before, doing all of the running, so to speak, the man just lying there and having to take whatever you dish out, him not being allowed to do anything? You have total control."

Her hand closed over me and held me for a moment before she hurriedly snatched it away, blushing.

"Just what do you think I am?" she demanded.

"Over-dressed, for a start. Both options require the removal of your leotard. Why don't you take it off? With that done you might find it easier to decide which option you want."

"Damned if I will."

"Spanked if you won't," I calmly replied. "If you don't, I'll have to, and if I have to I'll go right ahead with the spanking and you'll have to hope I leave it at that. So, may I suggest you remove it, now?"

She looked mutinous but it was slowly sinking in that I actually meant it. Muttering under her breath she did a little bit of twisting and tugging and the leotard just came sliding off. Damned if I saw how she did it. There didn't seem to be any zips or press seams. Maybe it was just all elasticized material.

"Ah, those too," I said, nodding to indicate her bra and panties. Again I was mystified by women's clothing. I hadn't noticed any panty-line under the leotard. The bra straps I'd noticed, so I guess I wasn't completely blind.

She gave me a look that should have raised blisters, decided that seeing she'd gone this far she might as well continue, and stripped off her bra and panties. I thought that I'd had an erection earlier, looking at her twerking. I was wrong. NOW I had an erection. She was sensational. I never knew her clothes covered such a fine figure.

"So what are you going to do?" I asked, sounding genuinely interested. "Bend over so I can lay a spanking on that lovely tush of yours or push me to the ground and have your wicked way with me?"

"I can't decide," she said, casting a disparaging eye at my groin. "What have you got to offer?"

That was throwing it back at me. Nothing for it but to drop my trousers and let her see for herself.

I suspected that I heard a tiny gasp as I dropped my gear, but you wouldn't know it from her face.

"You have possibilities, I suppose," she said, "and I'm allergic to spankings. I suppose I can do something to get you off. It's not as though it's going to be a big job."

Bitch, but I am nothing if not self-confident. Besides, her nipples were giving her the lie. They were giving a clear indication of sexual excitement. She sauntered over to me, placing her hands on my shoulders and pressing. I could take a hint. I stretched out on the carpet, while she settled down, straddling me.

She didn't just plonk straight down onto my cock but, there again, I never really expected her to. She was straddling me across the lower stomach area, but she would have been feeling my erection pressing between us. I know I could feel her lips kissing it, and they were wet kisses at that.

She was starting to breathe hard and was looking rather nervous as she raised herself slightly off me. My erection promptly rose with her, keeping contact, until she was just a little too high. I thought of offering to help her put it into place but decided that wouldn't be in the spirit of things.

She was blushing fiercely as she reached between her legs, groping for and finding me. Not a real problem. Hard to miss something as big as I currently was. She lifted her bottom a little higher, and I could feel the head of my cock scraping along against her lips. She wriggled it slightly, seemed to be satisfied, and started to sink slowly down.

I could feel myself penetrating her and had to resist the urge to give a nice hard push. Instead I just lay there, sweating and waiting, while she adjusted her position a couple of times, both times causing me to sink a little deeper. Then she was settling down, taking me fully into her.

With me fully inside her she just sat for a moment, still blushing, head cocked a little to the side as though considering the matter. What's to consider, I was wondering. Start bouncing, damn it. When the pause went just that little bit too long I spoke up.

"I can hum the Hallelujah Chorus if you need music," I offered.

The offer was rejected. Perhaps she didn't like religious music or perhaps she thought it inappropriate for what we were doing. Still, she did start moving.

She flexed her legs and wriggled her hips and started sliding slowly up and down my pole. She was breathing hard and biting her lips in concentration, bouncing slowly along, getting the feel for what we were doing. Well, for what she was doing, anyway. I was supposed to be the passive partner.

She kept it going, nice and slow to start with, but then she was listening to her internal music and moving faster. She must have practised her little dance quite a bit because it wasn't long before she was bouncing along in fine style, using the same motions that I'd seen when I'd first entered the room, but now doing them with me filling a key role.

She wasn't the only one breathing hard, either. My hands were practically clawing at the carpet as she slid up and down my shaft, exercising it to my growing torment. I wanted to roll over, taking her under me, and drive incessantly into her until my feelings were relieved. What I did was sweat, swear (silently), and let her do her thing. It was, I figured, a fine way for her to apologise for waking me with her music.

I reached up, intending to take hold of her breasts, only to have my hands slapped aside.

"No way," she snapped at me. "You said what I want goes. You have to just take what I give you."

My silent swearing went up a notch. I should have just spanked and raped her. So much easier on my ego. I gritted my teeth, trying to last for the duration. I couldn't stand it if she was able to milk me dry and still be able to keep going.

Whatever internal music was setting her rhythm, she must have decided to change records. She was moving faster, bouncing at a great rate, much to my personal distress. She suddenly slumped forward, lying on me, breasts crushed against me, bottom still franticly bobbing, giving out little wailing noises that were increasing in pitch.

She was ripe for her climax and I was ripe for mine. Not that I had any say in the matter. One bounce too many with her passage closed tight around me and I blew my load, jerking involuntarily beneath her while she clung to me, her own climax ripping into her.

She lay collapsed on top of me for a while. Not that I was complaining. She felt good. Eventually, however she rolled off with a sigh. Neither of us made any immediate attempt to stand up and get our clothes on.

"Next time," I said when I was able to frame a coherent sentence, "I'll just paddle your backside then rape you. So much easier on my nerves."

"I'll remember that," Amanda said. "Loud music equals consequences. I get it."

I wasn't sure exactly who got it this time but I held my peace. I scrambled back into my clothes and departed. It's hard to retain your dignity when you're pulling on your pants and she's lying there naked and amused, but I managed.

I wasn't amused when the music started up again at ten o'clock that night. Why the hell weren't her parents telling her to turn it down? Had they gone deaf? I went around, feeling put upon and gnarly.

When I got there the front door was open and Amanda was leaning casually against the door to the front room. She was wearing what appeared to be a set of baby doll pyjamas that had shrunk in the wash.

I just brushed straight past her and turned off the music, sighing with relief at the silence.

"I think I should tell you that my parents are due home in about five minutes," she said with a smirk. "How much spanking and ravishing can you do in that amount of time?"

"Not much," I admitted, walking back to her. "Fortunately, I have a solution."

I bent over and scooped her up in a fireman's carry.

"I think you'll find," I told her as I strolled back home, "that I will have longer than five minutes once we're inside. You can text your parents a message saying you've gone out unexpectedly and not to wait up for you."

To emphasize my point I pulled her pyjama pants down and gave her bare bottom a friendly spank. Hey, it was night-time. No-one was going to see but me.

She squealed (quietly) and wriggled (gently). After all, she couldn't risk too much fuss. Someone might notice.

Ashson
Ashson
8,516 Followers
Please rate this story
The author would appreciate your feedback.
  • COMMENTS
Anonymous
Our Comments Policy is available in the Lit FAQ
Post as:
Anonymous
3 Comments
LordSlamdawggLordSlamdawggover 8 years ago
Benny Hill sensabilities mixed with Ted Bundy lite

Don't ask me why this works. But it does. Full marks. *****

AnonymousAnonymousover 8 years ago
loved it

a great short read!

AnonymousAnonymousover 8 years ago
well done

great story and right tempo. loved it

Share this Story

READ MORE OF THIS SERIES

Music Series Info

Similar Stories

After School Special Todd's mistake gets surprising results from Miss Ross.in Mature
My Best Friend's Hot Mom Young stud bangs MILF in all 3 holes during hot summer day. in Mature
Ms. Walker's Class Ch. 01 She helps him with a BIG problem.in Mature
That's What Friends Are For Justin's best friend Samantha will do anything for him. in First Time
My Best Friend's Mom Ch. 01 What happens when your best friends mom sees you naked.in Mature
More Stories