The Piano Teacher

My parents had sent me to piano lessons when I was about 16. My teacher then was a plain looking 50 something woman, who tried her best to instil the rudiments of piano in me. By the time of my eighteenth birthday, however, it was clear I wasn’t making much progress, and in any case I began my college course at that time, and had to move to the city, about 100 miles away.

After a few months at college I actually began to miss the piano, and decided to look for a teacher with his/her own premises. I had a keyboard, but really wanted the accoustic feel of a real piano.

It didn’t take long to find a teacher through the local evening paper. He described himself as very experienced and took students at all levels. I phoned, and arranged my first session.

He lived in one of these old apartments with high ceilings and huge rooms. He introduced himself to me as Oliver. Although he sounded young on the phone, he was actually white haired and was aged in his sixties. He did have a great tan, however, and his skin looked more like a younger man’s.

On my first lesson, we sat together on the stool, and he asked me to show him how far I’d got. I played what little I thought I’d mastered, but I could tell he was less than impressed. “John,” he said gently, “firstly we need to get your posture and hand positions right. Look.” He stood up and pulled my shoulders back a little, then picked up my hand and showed me how he wanted me to hold it just above the keys.

I noticed his hands were quite warm, but not in any way sweaty. He sat next to me again, and we began to work on a tune. As I reached the bottom of the page he leant over me to turn it over, and I could feel his thigh press against me. I could also smell that he had some nice cologne on. I had never though about men, and had only ever had limited experience with girls, but I wondered if he had leaned against me just a bit more than necessary.

I decided I was probably overreacting, since, at eighteen, most of my thoughts centred on sex anyway! After my lesson, Oliver asked if I would like a coffee, since he had no more students that day. I accepted, since I too had nothing else that evening.

He brought coffee and biscuits and we sat down on his sofa. “So where do you want to go with the piano, John? I mean, how far?”

I said that I wasn’t sure yet but simply felt there may be more that I could get out of it.

“Yes, that’s certainly true,” he said. “Its a pity that you’ve built in a few bad habits with your position, but we can sort that out, then you should find it easier to progress.”

“That would be great,” I replied.

“I’m afraid I won’t be around now for a couple of weeks. I’m having a short holiday in Spain,” said Oliver.

“Oh that sounds good,” I said. “I noticed you had a tan. Have you been recently?”

“Oh no, John, I have a sun bed next door. I’m a bit of a sun freak, I’m afraid. Would you like to see?”

I felt it would be rude to refuse, so I followed him through to the next room. It was a huge bedroom with a full size sunbed at the foot of a super king size bed. The room was quite dark, and fairly sparsely furnished, except for a few paintings, and an exercise bike. In the corner there was a door leading to an ensuite, which I could see looked quite exotic.

“Well I’m impressed,” I said. “nice set up!”

“Well if you ever want to use it, just say. There’s only me here, so otherwise it just sits there.”

“Ok,” I said, “I may take you up on that.”

After coffee I made my farewells and left.

Over the next few months I continued to go to Oliver for lessons and was making reasonable progress. I did like him, and even when he seemed to be a little close on the piano stool, I didn’t mind. He didn’t seem to be coming on to me anyway, but even if he did, I was actually beginning to find him quite attractive, and I had even fantasised about him. Before I met Oliver my gay fantasies had tended to centre around young men, but I felt that as an older man he probably had a lot more sexual experience anyway and an interesting body that I could imagine being fucked by.

I was having coffee with him again after piano, one evening, and I had to ask if I could use his loo. He said of course, and I wandered through. His ensuite bathroom was beautiful and had various erotic pictures of men in it, some clearly in a state of arousal.

When I went back through he caught my eye, “thought anymore about using the sunbed? The offer’s still there.”

Before I could really think about it I had said yes. He said that was fine and suggested that I could do it next week, and that he had plenty of towells etc. so not to bother bringing anything with me.

The following week I was feeling a little nervous at the piano and I was sure that Oliver was again putting just a little more pressure on my thigh. This time I didn’t pull away and I’m sure he let it rest intentionally. When we finished the lesson he said that he had prepared the sunbed, but I would need suncream, so if I took a towel and lay on the bed he would apply it for me.

In for a penny, I thought. I went into the bedroom, took my clothes off and lay on the bed with a towel over my rear. Oliver came in and brought some bottles to the bed.

“Its always better if you get some oil as well, John, so I’ll put this on first if that’s ok?”

“Sure,” I replied, and he began.

“I hope my hands are warm enough John. Can’t have you jumping around” he laughed.

I laughed, and he began, first at my ankles then rubbing firmly all the way up to my thighs. As a pianist his fingers were incredibly strong, and made deep tracks into my flesh, not quite on the edge of pain. As he was pushing up my thighs I could feel him going under the towel. He spoke softly, “if you want I’ll take the towel so that we can make sure you get enough cream, otherwise you might get a bit burnt.”

I said OK, although something told me I was crossing a line. But I knew I wanted his strong hands on me, and my mind was racing, imagining what he might want to do to me.

He took the towel off and put more oil on my back, spreading it down towards my buttocks. I could feel his fingers squeezing my buttocks now, and pushing the oil into my crack, as he let his fingers trail gently near my hole. Oh Christ, I could feel my cock begin to harden, and as he pushed down on my arse and lower back I knew it was hard. I knew what was coming, but I also knew he must be expecting it. “Turn over now John and I’ll do your front.”

I started to turn over, and of course my cock sprung up. “Ah,” he said, “I used to have a masseur who told me that getting hard was not uncommon, when you get rubbed around a bit. But don’t worry, it’ll soon go down.”

I lay back and he put some oil on my legs. This time, when he rubbed it up my legs he was brushing against my cock with his wrists, and I was hard as a rock. God I just wanted him to take my cock and wank me.

He put his oily hands on my chest and massaged my chest, shoulders, arms and neck. As he stood at my feet he began to undress. “John,” he spoke quietly, but I could detect a slight wavering in his voice, “I hope you dont mind but I’d rather not get this oil on my clothes, so I’ll just slip them off.”

As he did so I could see he was completely tanned, including his cock and balls, which had been beautifully shaved.

He moved down towards my head and as he leaned over to rub my chest I could actually feel his cock touch my neck. I glimpsed around. He was fully erect and very long.

He pushed his hands down again, each side of my cock and balls. I groaned with pleasure and he hummed appreciatively, walking back to my feet, his cock springing as he walked. “Mmmh John, looks like even the masseur has the same unintended consequence!”

He reached over me and took my cock. I whispered “yes” and lay back, both his hands now wanking me. I groaned “mmmmmh yes please.”

He bent forward and I felt his lips near my cock. He pulled my foreskin back gently and licked my cock head. My cock jerked forward and he sucked me far into his mouth. I grasped for his cock and he moved forward. It was so amazing, being able to hold this man’s thick cock, while he sucked me. I wanted to shoot all my cum into his warm mouth.

I pulled him up to me by the shoulders and we kissed. I had always thought kissing a man would somehow be a hard sensation, but the only hard thing was his cock. He kissed beautifully, running his tongue round my mouth and probing into my throat.

“You’re very beautiful John,” he said, “would you like to make love?”

I nodded “Mmmh yes, Oliver but I haven’t been with a man.”

“Ok, first things first then, John,” he said then led me by the hand to the shower. “Always better to clean the way ahead!” He turned on the shower and gave me some baby shampoo. “Use that inside you first, and then have a good spray.”

I did as he said, enjoying the feeling of hot water and soft suds up me. Oliver did likewise and then we kissed, fondling each other’s cocks til we were rock hard again.

After we had dried each other he took me to the bed. He laid me face down and applied some gel to my crack pushing his forefinger into me. He was now noticeably rougher with me but I liked it. As I made soft murmuring noises in he went in and out harder, then replaced his finger with a thicker medium dildo. I gasped “oh yes! mmmh.” He pushed further in. I was feeling a bit of pain but the pleasure and the anticipation was much greater.

Suddenly he grabbed a tissue from his bedside and removed the gel from my crack. Bending over me from the rear, he licked me up and down my crack and my balls. Then he was kissing my hole, actually licking around my hole, and thrusting his tongue in so I could feel it on each of the thousands of nerve ends. I didn’t ever want it to stop, but I knew that he was getting ready to fuck me, and I was happy to be his student completely. I thought ‘mmh what is this really going to be like!’

I raised my crack towards him. “Oh yes, very sexy” he said. He kept pushing my legs apart and licking deeper into my hole.