The Piano Teacher

Arturo Bernelli smiled as the loud ovation crashed through the hall. He stood up from his bench and walked to the front of the stage. His flowing silver hair glowed under the bright LEDs. The stage that would normally have over 100 musicians had just one lone figure and a black grand piano.

He bowed repeatedly as the ovation just got louder. His eyes were filled with tears knowing this was to be the last time he'd ever experience this. The music was great, the money, the accolades were all wonderful but this was why he'd been touring for 60 years.

After 10 long minutes, he took a handkerchief from his tux and dabbed his eyes causing a louder ovation. Finally, after many bows the clapping faded, the standing reseated themselves, and no one left the hall, all eyes on the preeminent pianist of their times. His interpretation of every great work for piano was considered the one and only to own. People were known to be in tears hearing him play Moonlight Sonata for the first time. The cemeteries of the great composers found dozens of flowers on their graves after Arturo came to their city.

Tickets had gone for over $5,000 a seat for the last performance of Arturo and had sold out in 2 seconds. Many in attendance never even knew his last name as he was always known simply as Arturo. The hall went completely quiet ready to hear for the last time this great musician.

Arturo looked around seeing 100% of the crowd's eyes on him. He'd been long waiting this day, the last day he'd be able to share his gift with music lovers. He chose Severance Hall in Cleveland since he grew up in Cleveland Heights and his first and best memories of classical music were here. "I feel sad," he said simply, "I feel at a loss at how to express myself," he said looking around. Then he looked back at the Steinway behind him. "I've tried to communicate what I feel through the keys, the pedals so please pardon my weak attempt to convey how much this means to me that you all came for my final performance."

The crowd jumped up, clapping as the embarrassed man tried unsuccessfully to stop them. Then he bowed and raised his hands again.

"Please, thank you for...I know you are all lovers of music, lovers of what the great composers who came before us have created. I've always felt like an undeserving vessel to interpret the works of all the greats, Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Liszt, Haydn, Chopin, Debussy, Paganini, Stravinski... I could go on and on. I want to talk about this though," he said going back to the piano. He stroked it as if stroking a lover, "this piano was the first one I ever touched." He pressed the middle C key. He closed his eyes listening to the tone waiting until it faded to silence. He looked at the crowd, "This was the first key I ever played, the first note. I heard it and was hooked." He looked around sadly and sighed as he closed the fallboard. "There. Now you have heard the last note I'll ever publicly perform."

The crowd again gave an ovation, not as loud as many were wiping their eyes. None looked away. None made any other sound other than their clapping.

Arturo walked back up to the front of the stage, his eyes sweeping from side to side as if looking for someone. "I was blessed being able to learn on this piano, blessed to have had the finest teacher in the world, blessed to be taught by the finest person in the world. Mrs. Fielding? Ah, there you are. Please come up here," he said putting out a hand.

The entire hall craned their necks or stood as the 95-year-old white-haired woman stood and walked purposefully down the aisle. Arturo came down to the floor and took her hand before hugging her.

The crowd was again quiet as Arturo led the small but spry woman onto the stage. He turned, then put out a hand, faced her, then gave her a huge bow. He held it as the crowd gave another ovation.

"Thank you, Mrs. Fielding. Thank you for loaning me your wonderful instrument for my final performance. Thank you for putting up with me as a kid," he smiled. Then he looked at the audience and grinned, "I was a terrible student. Practice? Why would I practice when there's baseball and bikes and swimming?" he asked. He turned to the old woman who you could tell had been a true beauty in her youth. She still had her figure, still had crystal-clear bright blue eyes, and still had a smile that lit up the room. "Tell them how often you wanted to get rid of me."

Mrs. Dolores Feilding smiled and shook her head. "I never wanted to get rid of you," she said in a clear voice, "Spank you sure, but I knew there was talent inside you. I was just being patient until you saw what I saw in you, and until you felt what I felt."

* * *

Arturo Bernelli groaned hearing the boys yelling outside at the ball field. Every time he heard the crack of the bat he could smell the warm grass, and feel the breeze on his face as he ran the bases.

1958 was a great year to be a kid. Cleveland Stadium to see Rocky Colivito, Larry Doby, Herb Score, and others. Last fall, the Browns had a good season again after a disappointing one. They didn't find a replacement for Otto Graham and missed out in the draft hoping for Len Dawson or John Brodie but settled for a good running back in Jim Brown. Not a position of need. It didn't matter, win or lose they were the Browns. They'll find a way to win.

The 28-year-old Dolores Fielding looked at the boy, "Again. You're not concentrating," she sighed. She went over and closed the windows. The breeze felt good as it was a hot summer day but the boy just couldn't sit still. She sat next to Arturo who was a tall, strapping young man with large hands. He was made to succeed at whatever he put his mind to. But his parents wanted him to learn the piano afraid he'd waste his youth playing sports and not be well-rounded.

Arturo smelled the perfumed woman next to him. Ever since he started his lessons he was distracted by the sounds of his friends playing outside and then distracted again by the strange feeling he got whenever she was close. Mrs. Fielding was what his father described as a stacked dolly. She was very stacked, once he had brushed against her chest and perhaps it was the thick bra, but regardless his 18-year-old hormones made his head fuzzy.

"Look," Dolores said as she placed her hands over his, "you don't jab at the keys, you stroke them." She heard his soft gasp and sighed. It was so hard getting these horny boys to focus. "Try this section here and just gently stroke..."

Arturo felt horror as his penis started growing. It had been doing that a lot lately. He often woke up with an aching stiffy. He had no idea what to do with it and had to shower to get it to go away. Just the other day at school he had to clasp his books over his front between classes after seeing Mary Lou's panties. Why that caused this to happen was strange as there really wasn't much to see...but still, her creamy inner thighs seemed to call to him. He felt the woman's soft hands on his and tried to think of things outside but it was no use. "Ok, I'll do it better this time," he said hoping she'd get up so she couldn't see his tented pants.

Dolores sighed and went to stand next to the piano to not embarrass the boy. It was an impressive tent, she thought, not like Daryl's. 'Stop thinking like that,' she thought. 'Someone needs to focus!' she thought. She watched Arturo stroke the keys, nodding as he was doing it much better. He did have incredible hands. Long fingers, large palms.

They ran through various practice pieces and etudes when Dolores smiled, "Ok, you can go play with your friends. Tomorrow, 3 o'clock." Arturo jumped up and was out the door in a flash.

After the boy left Dolores wondered what it was about him that made her heart pound. Daryl was useless in bed but he was at least always willing if not a bit too efficient whenever she wanted to get amorous.

The next day Arturo was right on time as he always was. Never a minute early, never a minute late. At least she didn't have to worry about him being distracted that day by the kids playing outside as it was raining. He'd walked and needed to dry off so she gave him a dry towel.

It was warm still in the house so he soon was comfortable. "Have you been practicing?" she asked.

Arturo nodded, "Just an hour. I played some ball, then did homework but I was able to play after dinner a bit. Listen to this," he smiled. He sat and played the first part of Für Elise perfectly, a bit mechanically, but flawlessly. She smiled and clapped softly which made her large breasts shake a little.

Arturo blushed and looked quickly away. "I found the score at the library," he said softly. "I think it's beautiful." Again his penis was growing. Why does it keep doing that? he wondered.

"That was great, your tempo was perfect, and you were almost stroking the keys," she said as she sat next to him.

He felt his head swim a little as he smelled her perfume, "But. You were going to say, but..." he said looking at her. Her dress was parted between the second and third buttons and he could see the swell of her breast above her white lacy bra. He tried to shift in his seat to stop his penis from growing. He'd heard his friends call them chubbies or stiffies. Both were accurate.

Dolores saw the tent again and then saw where he was looking. This was not going to work, she thought. How to get the hormonal boy to focus? She was about to play the same piece but took her hands off the keyboard. She looked at the boy and sighed. "I see you are distracted," she said looking pointedly at his tent.

"I'm sorry," he said with frustration, "it keeps happening. I don't know what to do about it," he said as he tried to cross his arms.

"Do you, um, you know? Beat your meat?" she asked softly.

Arturo got beat red and shook his head, "No," he said softly.

Dolores sighed, "I need you to focus. Come over here," she said. She put out a hand and led him over to the couch. "You can never say a word to anyone about this, but you have to concentrate on your playing so I need to do this," she sighed. "Wait here, I'll be right back.

Arturo sat looking confused, was Mrs. Fielding going to do what he thought she was going to do? She came back with a bottle of baby oil and a towel.

"Ok, pull your pants down. Don't be shy, I've seen erections before. I am married," she smiled. "Oh, my!" she smiled as the boy undid his pants and a huge penis popped up. "Nice," she said, "You are not just gifted with your piano playing."

Arturo was beet red as he watched the older woman pour oil onto her left palm and then rub her hands together. His cock was not only embarrassingly pointing at the ceiling it was bouncing with each heartbeat. He jumped as she touched him and then tried to relax.

"Close your eyes and think about something sexy," she said softly as she stroked his cock. 'Christ! He's twice the length and girth of Daryl.' She used both hands to stroke his shaft and the boy's breathing changed and his cock seemed to get harder. "What are you thinking about?" she asked.

"You, your...um jugs," he said softly, "I saw them, well one of them through," he pointed at the opening between the buttons on her dress.

Dolores smiled, "You like these?" she asked. She put her shoulders back, "You want to see them, I mean all of them?" she asked.

Arturo nodded, his eyes wide. He didn't like that she took her hands off his penis but seeing her unbutton her dress and then pull it off her shoulders was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen. She posed with her thick bra making her jugs look like torpedos.

"Go on, touch them," she said. She couldn't believe this boy could grab her entire boob with his hand. Then she smiled, "This should feel even better," she said as she reached behind her back and unclipped the bra. She shrugged it off her shoulders and then closed her eyes as the boy's hands again found her breasts.

Arturo's balls had an ache he'd never felt before as he marveled at the heft, the softness, and the firmness of a woman's jugs. He gasped loudly as soon as she stroked his penis, "Mrs. Field...oh, Dang!" he cried out as he arched his back as the most incredibly pleasurable pain cramped his groin. His penis was shooting ropes of white cream all over Mrs. Fielding's chest, each time he felt pleasurable pangs shoot through his balls and penis.

Dolores stroked rapidly even though some of the boy's sperm hit her face. It felt hot as it splattered on her and kept coming. She wondered how much there was when the boy's penis simply dribbled the last of his ejaculate out. She was glad she didn't get any of it on her pussy as she had to be fertile. Daryl always seemed horniest whenever she was at her peak. She wasn't ready for children and had to constantly make up excuses to not make love.

Arturo was looking at the streams of the white cream turn clear as they ran down her chest. He took his hand and rubbed it into her skin. He moaned softly then asked, "Is that normal?"

"No, but not like you think," She smiled. "A normal amount would be this much." She held out her arm where the last dribbles had pooled on the back of her hand and wrist. She ran her fingers through the streams and smiled, "This is pretty impressive. Ok, I'm going to go clean up and change. Then I want you to play the same passage while remembering how your orgasm felt," she said standing up.

She came back into the music room and stopped. Arturo's playing was less mechanical and more passionate. That was the only word she could come up with.

As the boy got up to go home she stopped him, "We can't do that again and you can never tell anyone, ever. Got it?"

Arturo smiled, "Never. Um, thanks. That was the best thing I've ever felt."

"I'm glad. But you took a big step in your playing today. You've always been technically accurate but today I could feel the notes not just hear them." She hugged the boy without thinking but then felt him against her. She pulled back and looked down. "Teenage boys," she sighed. "Ok, I want you to practice two hours tonight because we lost a half-hour taking care of this," she said as she patted the front of his pants. "Oh, I almost forgot," She grabbed a score off the pile on a side table, "This is a bit tougher, but I know you're up for it."

The boy smiled and nodded. "Thanks again, He said before running down the driveway.

The next day Arturo had obviously been practicing. He played the more complex piece with precision and accuracy, his hands moving across the keyboard without breaking the tempo. She clapped softly and smiled. "You never looked at the score, did you? You memorized the entire piece just from last night?" she asked.

"Well, I played it three times so... But..." he said with a wry smile.

"But you are still hitting the keys. You need to stroke them, caress them." she sighed, "Ok, I swore I'd never do this again but come over here." She led the boy over to the couch. She pulled off her dress then her bra and lay down. "No, we're not going to do what I did for you yesterday. I want you to straddle my waist and close your eyes. Go on close them," she said after the boy climbed on. She pulled the boy's hands onto her bare breasts and held them so his fingers were just touching her warm skin. She saw the huge tent again but ignored it.

Arturo's penis was achingly hard, just as it had been all night long as he replayed the intense feelings she gave him yesterday. Now he could feel the heat emanating from her massive jugs.

"I want you to play the first movement on my chest. You would never poke at me but stroke, caress. Here," she said as she guided his left-hand index finger onto her nipple, "is middle C. OK, play the first movement as if making love to the keyboard."

At first, Artura was hesitant but soon could hear the music in his head. It helped that Mrs. Fielding was humming deeply in her throat, not exactly on key but in sync with his playing. It helped that middle C and an octave higher were tactilely pronounced. Her nipples were like erasers. She must have liked his playing since she was moving her hips along with his fingers playing the notes on her chest. When he finished he palmed her chest, opened his eyes, and smiled at her. "Was that better?"

Dolores cleared her throat before answering but she still sounded husky, "Perfect. Did you feel it? Feel the notes?"

Arturo nodded, "I liked middle C and upper C," he smiled as he thumbed both hard nubs. "They're so perfect, so beautiful."

"Ooooohhh, wow! Ok. We have to..." She looked at how tight the tent looked and sighed. She undid his belt and pulled out his stiff erection.

Arturo moaned feeling the woman's hands on his penis, then asked, "Um, is there more baby oil?"

Dolores smiled, "Something better." She pulled his ass forward and took his cock into her mouth. 'So much bigger than Daryl,' she thought. She licked and sucked on the boy's cock knowing she wouldn't have to do it for long.

Arturo leaned forward since it hurt trying to bend his erection down. Without thinking he found himself humping against her mouth amazed that she could swallow so much of him.

Dolores was letting the boy fuck her face while stroking his balls and ass. Within two minutes he was calling out her name but she kept sucking, partly because she didn't want to clean the upholstery on the couch again, partly because she wanted to taste him.

"Mrs. Fielding...Mrs. Fielding...I'm...oh, dang it!" he groaned as his piano teacher clamped her mouth on his penis and sucked hard as she felt the incredibly pleasurable feelings peak and explode. Without thinking he was plunging his penis down her throat with each spasm but she was just caressing his ass so she didn't seem to mind.

Dolores pushed the boy off her face when he went limp. She wiped her mouth and smiled at him as he flopped against the back of the couch. "Was that good? That was called a blowjob, fellatio."

"It was incredible," the boy panted. It was strange, he didn't exert himself much but was panting as if he'd run the 440.

"Ok, she said, "Now I want you to play the same piece with feeling, caress the keys, make love to the keyboard."

Arturo rolled off the couch and pulled up his pants and then sat down and played.

Dolores lay on the couch and listened. There! The feelings she heard the day before. She could feel the soft touches on the keys, and hear the lingering tones resonate as the boy played with precision and passion. Her heart rate rose and her fingers were itching to go between her legs but that would be too much. She had felt guilt the night before jerking the boy off but if this is the result? Worth it. He'd just been introduced to the piece 24 hours ago and he was playing it better than she'd ever heard any of the greats play it.

When the boy was leaving, he hugged his teacher, "Thank you again. Um, that was the best thing I've ever felt. I'll practice for three hours tonight," he grinned. He took the latest score and trotted down the drive to get home.

The next day Dolores smiled. She could hear the same passion and he was stroking the keys as if...as if he were stroking her breasts. Her pussy throbbed which was strange as she'd never felt her pussy throb. With Daryl, she felt a pleasant feeling as he pushed inside her, but after a few minutes, it was gone as was his penis. She'd never had a physical reaction to music before but what he was doing was tangible.

"Ok, I'm going to have you play a piece that you've never seen and I want to see how quickly you pick it up," she said.

"Paganini," the boy said, "Never heard of this piece. I've heard his violin concerti but never...wow!" he said as he read the notes, his hands air playing the notes and jumping across the keyboard. "Huge jumps...Got it." He began playing, his fingers rapidly hitting keys accurately even though his hands had to travel farther down the keyboard. He played incredibly well for just seeing it, and as he became more comfortable he again was playing with precision. He looked up as Mrs. Fielding pulled down the top of her dress and stroked her huge jugs.