Thans to Misses Chalmers

Thanks to Misses Chalmers

Nick watched her as Mrs Chalmers held the croquet mallet's handle between her legs and leaned over it to sight-in her next shot at the hoop she was aiming for. Her orange summer top, with its patterns and cropped sleeves, hung loosely over white slacks, the breeze catching the riotous tangle of her streaky ash-blonde hair. A thin chain necklace, with colored beads set at intervals along its length, dangled down over the swell of her breasts, the sunlight glinting off the dragonfly that had been fastened to it.

He was besotted with her, a pubescent young man of almost eighteen fantasizing about the woman before him, or at his side, as they played the game. It was crazy to realize that again and here, of all places, in his parent's garden, but they had invited her along.

He had never seen her so relaxed and was glad to realize that she was not having to behave as the controlling music teacher that she had to be whenever he saw her at college. He had even got to liking her for tolerating his lazy ways, the lapses in his technique that could only be accounted for by his lack of committing time to practice; of not doing what she asked of him.

Instead, he had begun to sense that she had her reasons for being less strict with him than she was with others. He had done nothing to be thought of as her favorite, but his attendance at music class had more to do with the crush he had on her than his love of the music that she expected him to practice and play. "Don't waste your talent," she would often tell him.

He met her glance his way.

"I'm glad that I picked you as a partner for this competition," she smiled as she took the next shot, and it rattled the hoop. "If we keep winning, we may get the prize... whatever that is."

"A bottle of wine is my guess, and I'm glad it's turned out that way too, Mrs Chalmers..."

"I've told you before, call me Phoebe...when we're away from college at least."

"And at other times?" he murmured as they stood waiting for their opponents to take their shot. "Good...they missed."

Phoebe laughed softly as she met his look upon her. "We'll have to see what those other times might become, Nick. Now, don't stand so close to me and hinder my shot. I should know what I'm doing by now..."

She wondered if that was so where it concerned her feelings for him.

A somewhat precocious young man was occupying her thoughts more and more; he, with a bright and engaging smile that showed perfectly even white teeth and little creases to each side of his mouth. Nick had done so often enough at college and during music lessons, but now they were away from that unforgiving environment and here in the Hathaway's spacious garden where she was a guest, along with many others, for a summer lunch party.

♥

She waved him goodbye before leaving the parking spot she had found along the pavement and not so far from Nick's home. He had surprised and pleased her, in equal measure, for playing the piano in front of so many guests, after a buffet lunch, and doing so with aplomb.

"I wanted to show you, above all, that I'm not letting what I can do go to waste."

The piano was placed by a set of large, glazed doors that opened out onto a terrace and also to make the most of the light cast over the instrument and music when the blinds were drawn back, as they had been when he played.

Some emotion, a wayward impulse, had provoked her into joining him, seated on the wide piano stool. She had drawn closer as he played a short piece, and he had felt her fingers brush his neck for only an instant because he looked up at her before she sat down beside him.

"I don't get the chance to do this with you at college lessons...."

"And this young guy's glad that you're with him now," he had murmured in reply, deliberately pressing his leg against her thigh as they began to play.

It was then that she realized that they were drawing ever closer, and it was a situation that perplexed and unnerved her in equal measure. There was also a sense of her spiraling, like an insect, into a trap of her choosing. Max, her husband, was being antisocial with it and she

really

did not need to endure that feeling of rejection, overt or otherwise.

"I love playing this piece, and now I'm doing it with you," she had told him as their fingers moved over the keys and Debussy's 'Claire de Lune' was played before lighter tunes were picked.

The impromptu recital had soon been over, the applause genuine, and she had chosen to leave at that point, her mind and emotions all a flutter because of what she had sensed was Nick's reaction to her presence so close to him, the press of their thighs as they sat in the narrow bench, the brush of hands or fingers as they played, intentional or not.

"You're seducing me, young man," she had muttered to herself, and it was how she felt then, and again now as she drove away and saw Nick's brief wave in farewell.

As she drove into the street where her modest house was situated her iPhone trilled and she glanced at it as the contraption nestled in its cradle on the dashboard. She pulled in and read the message on the screen.

Phoebe, I was so glad that you were here today. It was great to sit beside you and to play. It's at moments like that t when I realise just what you've done for me so far. I want so much more and had to tell you. Nick

She felt that too.

Each touch, as they played, had felt like the first caresses of two people being drawn into something they might not be able to control; an older woman and a teacher having to deal with an infatuated young man who, thinking of him and what Nick had suggested that he sought of her now, plagued a receptive mind.

♥

"Nick, darling!" his mother said as he returned to the house, his thoughts still filled with Phoebe and how they had been together. "Everyone's saying how much they enjoyed seeing and hearing you play...also the duet with Phoebe. Your father and I didn't realize that you would spring that surprise on us all."

He knew better than to act as if embarrassed by the compliments thrown his way. He would shock his folks if they ever found out what was going on in his mind and concerned his curvy piano teacher. For now, girls of his age didn't get to him in the ways that Phoebe did, fanciful as it was.

"I only intended to play a few solo pieces. Phoebe surprised me, but she's pleased that I've been practicing again..."

"Well, it shows, darling. You've helped to make the day a success, so thank you."

"It's okay. Mom," he answered, quelling his irritation, as they stood talking in full view of people wanting to say their goodbyes.

He wanted the space to think it all through; what had happened to make the day fly and to exceed his expectations. That Max, Phoebe's husband, had not accompanied her had been just the prompt that he needed to come onto her as they played croquet. His duties of helping his father in serving drinks and being a host had not interfered with that.

If anything, absences from each other had only made them keener to talk again and yet not draw too much attention to what might just be going down between them. He sure hoped for that and not to have the image of Phoebe, and her curvy figure, the object of his fantasy as he fisted himself when in bed and he thought back to every precious moment spent with her over recent weeks.

He would send her a text and would have to see what came of it. That way, remote as it was, she would learn of how it was becoming for him, and he would not make a complete fool of himself in Phoebe's presence; a pubescent young guy with raging hormones who was lusting after his music teacher.

Jeez! Phoebe sure had a curvy figure for a tall woman with long slender legs! He had felt her thighs brush against him as they had played and he'd imagined what it would feel like to have them on his skin, wrapped around his body as she taught him how to fuck. Yeah, that was where this was all going as far as he was concerned.

Phoebe was not what would be called ravishingly beautiful, given that she had a long somewhat angular, face. But she had a wonderful smile and attentive eyes, also a lightness of touch to his arm as they played that led him to think they had formed a special bond.

Yeah, he sure wanted to go with her; to go down on her and for Phoebe to lead him on and they got to a special place.

To get there he had to pay a lot more attention to his piano playing and in the process to still find his way past the obvious defences that Phoebe would put up and deny what could be happening.

♥

Phoebe sat in her car and thought back to another moment spent in Nick's company as they played croquet.

She fidgeted and stopped taking an important shot. Instead, she had flicked at her hair and Nick had seen that it was tangled with the necklace that glinted in the sun.

"Let me untangle it...if...if that's okay?" he murmured, feeling sorry for her predicament.

Nick had used the moment to touch her, and it would be for the first time.

"Thank you. Yes, do that...there's a dear." She had spoken out the word

'dear'

before realizing how that might sound.

On impulse, he had reached out to untangle her hair and at the same time, Nick had seized the opportunity to caress her shoulder and neck.

"You're taking your time, Nick," she had then said. "I...I don't think you should be doing that in front of others."

It had occurred to her that the simple act of touching a woman who was so often in his thoughts, and the warmth of her bare skin may have aroused him; that doing so had set his pulse racing, and that he was thankful to be wearing baggy cargo pants. His Mom may well have wanted him to smarten up and not be seen dressed in the same kind of gear that he wore to college, but a chequered shirt, unbuttoned and flapping on the breeze, revealed a white long-sleeved T-shirt, all of it worn with the khaki pants that offered the greatest comfort.

She had taken it all in, what he wore. She had also imagined what had been playing out in his mind.

"There, it's untangled. Sorry to touch you...for so long."

Her heart had gone out to him, both for his consideration and also his belief that he had to apologize for being

'fresh'

or

'forward'

with a woman old enough to be his mother.

"Oh, Nick, don't worry so. It's helped me and felt so good," she had said to reassure him, and she remembered the moments of impetuous enjoyment that his touch had aroused in her. He'd acted fresh and was forward, but to her shame, she wanted that moment to go on. "You did that very well. I'll have to remember if I need help again."

Nick had sighed in reply to what she had told him. How disconcerting to know just how deep his infatuation with her had become.

Now, as she sat in the car that she had parked on the driveway, and with Max still not home from his game of golf, she tapped out a text on her iPhone.

She had never contacted him in this way before, and it was because he had sent her a text that she was able to reply. There was a first time for everything, and she now wondered if that went for what might pass for Nick's 'love life'.

Why pick her to learn of sex if that was on his mind? The same could be said of her; why pick a young man to find release from all that was wrong in her marriage to Max?

Nick, honey, I felt that we had made a special bond as we played the piano together, not so long ago. You have told me how it is for you, and I'd like to share some more special times with you. There's a piano room in the music block that I will tell you about before the next lesson. Until then keep your mind clear of us, of this, if you can, and for now. Phoebe

♥

The sign, hanging on a hook fixed to the door of the room Phoebe had texted him about, announced, 'Music Test in Progress'.

She had hung it there once Nick had arrived. Now she locked the door. "We teachers have to do that to stop folks barging in...."

Nick didn't wait to hear what else she had to tell him. Impetuously, and summoning up the courage to make a pass at her, he put his arms around her. On a soft moan of acceptance of what was happening, she reached up and drew his head down to enable him to press his lips to her cheek.

"I've gone crazy waiting for you to text me and say when we could meet like this," he told her.

She shuddered, dismayed and pleased by his confidence, as Nick's hands cupped her breasts and she pushed back her hips, soon discovering his state of arousal. She could not keep him from sliding his hands under her tunic top and feeling the warmth of her skin. She felt reckless and yet she had to control what his touch had so quickly aroused in her.

"It's difficult, I know, but we must be careful...and to take things slowly. I want the same as you do, honey."

"I sure have been restrained, until now," he muttered, but his embrace upon her remained as before.

"Nick, honey, go on then," Phoebe said softly as she felt his hands drift up to brush the undersides of her breasts, feebly supported by only a thin vest, "Yes, I'll let you touch them."

"They're beautiful...feel so beautiful...warm and heavy," he admitted in a soft, almost dreamlike, voice that confirmed to her what had been on his mind for what must have been some time, and certainly since the garden party she had attended.

"Yes, squeeze them but gently," she groaned, gripping his hands through the fabric of her blouse as Nick clumsily pinched her nipples that tingled as they became hard. "Oh Nick, honey, that feels wonderful."

All he did by way of a reply was to caress and squeeze them.

"Kiss them...now kiss them!" Phoebe ordered breathlessly coaxing him to let go of her before she pulled up her blouse and exposed them to his gaze and touch.

"I'll try to do it right for you," he mumbled and feasted on the swell of her breasts, soon pressing his lips to her cleavage before she awkwardly guided his head to one breast and then the other, moving across them before lingering on each nipple, now hard and distorting her flimsy bra. "It's...it's the first time I have been with anyone...like this."

"Oh, Nick, I know...I guessed," she murmured, "but you have the softest lips!"

She knew that they would soon have to stop but she fumbled to release one breast from the cotton cup that held it.

"I want to, learn how it goes and with you..."

"And you will, honey, you will."

She guided his head to one breast and felt him suck on its hard nipple, to then drag his mouth over as much of her breast as he could take and as his tongue began to flicker over the nipple.

"Yes, go on with that honey!" she commanded with a soft gasp as his claims on her breasts sent shivers of pleasure coursing through her body. One nipple, then the other, was taken in his mouth and she stroked his hair, pressing his face to her breasts. She kissed the top of his head before she pulled on his hair and brought him up to kiss his lips. It soon became a long and tender kiss.

Nick was slowly pushed away, and she covered herself once more, adjusting the silk scarf that she had wrapped around her neck and that he had eased away, enough, for Nick to be able to kiss her throat and breathe in the scent she had so purposefully sprayed in the hollow of her throat.

"I know...I know," he sighed, "we have to wait for the rest to happen."

She cupped his face in her hands. "Yes, we must wait for the right time. We can't let someone catch us here and," she smiled, "you're here for a piano lesson, not the ways of loving with me."

He sighed and moved away, soon slumping down on the piano stool and tinkling out a few notes, grinning up at her as he did so.

Phoebe leaned in and kissed him. "Can you call by, at my house? I've scribbled the address on this card. Keep it safe, won't you?"

"I ring you first?"

"No, I'll call you and tell you the time. I hope it can be the day after tomorrow...early in the afternoon and when I have no lessons."

Max was planning to be away on a short business upstate, before the end of the week, so the risk of discovery would be greatly reduced, unlike where they now were, sharing the heat behind a locked door.

And with that settled, the music lesson could begin in earnest. It was, Phoebe realized only too clearly, what she was paid to do and not arrange a tryst with her musically gifted and soon-to-be young lover.

How she needed another's attention upon her, emotionally complicated as that could so easily become.

♥

When her call came, Nick had time to ride his off-track bike over to Phoebe's place. It was a clap-boarded house painted white with dark green paint on the window frames and the front door. The front lawn was neatly tended, and shrubs had been clipped along the front path into rounded shapes. It was modest, compared to his parent's place and what he called home.

He had jittery feelings as he put his bicycle out of sight along the path, beside her car. He was turned on by the memory of what they had done in that music room, behind a locked door, but the moment had arrived to go way beyond touching her and being encouraged to kiss her breasts with his hungering mouth.

He had sensed, at the time, what she needed from him and now it was going to be made real. No longer would he have to resort to fantasies of her as he jerked off. He'd take part in the main event with a fleshy woman, and not the skinny and weight-obsessed girls in college.

He laughed softly as voluptuous Phoebe soon opened the door in response to a single ring of the bell.

"Well, hello there, Nick!" she said brightly and smiling at him. "Please come in. How wonderful to see you and to know that nerves haven't gotten the better of you."

"Being with you is real. Text messages only make me want to be with you even more."

"And now you are."

Phoebe held out a hand, behind her and he took it as she led him into the living room. He soon noticed that it was dark because the blinds were closed. She reached out her arms and he stepped up to her and they hugged for a long time, seemingly to accept that they were to be together and with only one thing on their minds.

He groaned on feeling her breasts press against his chest and how hard his penis was, uncomfortably so, in his cargo pants.

"Jeez, I don't know how I've managed to keep away from you," he kissed, their mouths soon opening and tongues beginning to poke and swirl.

Phoebe gasped in response to the hunger of his kisses and what she could feel pressing into her belly; a lustful young man's penis that she had first felt but had not dared to clamp when they were in that music room. Now, soon, she could do so and much...much...more.

"Come on, upstairs...I don't want to wait for the moment any more than you do!" she gasped and broke free of his embrace. "Follow me!"

He rushed after her up the stairs and to her bedroom, the soft glow of a single bedside light enough for them to take in what they would again bring to each other.

"Should we, on that bed...not another?" he asked, dismayed that he would be taken on the marital bed.

She waved his concerns away. "That's for me to decide on!"

"Okay...okay!" he answered petulantly.

She pushed his questioning hands away as she tripped off her clothes and watched him as Nick did the same, seemingly unembarrassed to do so.

Phoebe reached out to touch his trembling prick and gaped at how it shaped his briefs. She then exposed it to her gaze before she held it wonderingly. "Look what you bring to me...what I have aroused in you...all of it forbidden...as it should be...and that you cannot control."

"The same goes for you and everything you say is true. Forgive me but I need to go with you...I can't wait." His hands wandered over her body, from her throat to her cleavage, before he cupped and fondled her breasts. His caresses were surprisingly tender, wondering, and sensual and she groaned out of pleasure and in surrender at what he was again doing to her.