She could hear him practicing riffs down the hall, he must have the door to the live room open again. He’d been here three nights in a row now with his band recording and she didn’t think he’d even recognized her in the same room once. He passed her as he came and as he left without so much as a head nod in either direction. His presence gave off such a dominant demeanor that she couldn’t even look at him when he approached her from the hall or the doorway. She was too shy, too submissive but she had taken to wearing cute little sexy outfits to see if he’d notice. Tonight she’d chosen a white half top with a tiny purple plaid Catholic school girl skirt and black stockings. He just walked right past her, not even a second look.
He was everything he was supposed to be: strong, quiet, decisive, creative, and when his smile made a rare appearance hers would too. Tonight they were the only two left in the building and she was charged with locking up when he finished. His music was different. It was heavier and harder hitting, as if he were having a conversation with the devil himself. She loved it.
Slipping quietly down the hall she stood in the open doorway and watched him play. He was beautiful. He was concentrated on what he was playing and had a masculine grace about him, his stillness held power and she closed her eyes to just listen for a minute when he said “are you going to come in or not?” Well fuck. She didn’t even think he knew she was out there and now she had disturbed him.
Taking a deep breath she stepped through the doorway and looked at him for the first time but said nothing. “Sit there” he tells her and points at an amplifier near him and silently she does as he says. This is something she can deal with. Following direction is what she’s good at. He begins to play for her and as he hits certain notes a vibration begins in the amp that has her gripping the sides, biting her bottom lip, and her breath quickening slightly. He knew, he knew exactly what he was doing. He didn’t take his eyes off hers and he had this smile as he played, so maybe he had noticed her.
She couldn’t think and she knew she was so close to losing control, standing quickly she made for the door and he grabbed her arm slamming her into his chest asking her where she thought she was going. She couldn’t speak for a minute so he asked again with more force. She finally answered and admitted her panties were wet and she didn’t want to make a mess on his equipment. He let her go and pushed her away a little, sitting on a stool he said “bend over and show me.” Shit, he was serious. She’d never run from a challenge but this was almost too much. Almost.
Bending over enough to touch her toes she lifted her skirt and moved her g-string to the side slightly and showed him just how wet he’d made her with his playing and it was a good thing he couldn’t see her face because now she was grinning. Now she knew he wanted her and she was no longer shy about it so she ran her finger along her clit and practically purred.
He’d had enough of her show. Standing quickly he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder walking quickly to the couch in the back of the room he threw her down letting her bounce and she had to scramble to her hands and knees while he followed her down. He was behind her with his hands on her ass pulling her panties at the seams to rip them just as she was pressing back against his erection rubbing and grinding on him begging with her body for him to hurry.
He gave her a sharp slap to the ass telling her firmly “I’m going to fuck that little ass if you don’t stop.” and to that she just teased him more aggressively. She didn’t care anymore, she just wanted him. The sound of her thong finally ripping away and his zipper coming down had her breathing uneven and he whispered close to her ear “come on good girl face down ass up” and slid home immediately not giving her time to even think when she screamed his name, cumming immediately the first time from wanting him all week. She could hear him laughing but it didn’t matter, his hands were on her hips holding on and she was pulsing around his cock, her heartbeat in sync with the pulses gripping him.
Most women, and she’s never understood this, will fake an orgasm just to get it over with and then masturbate later. They say the sex you want, you’re not getting and the sex you’re getting, you don’t want. She can assure you this was nothing like that and this man knew exactly how to please her. When he began to move it was with long sure strokes deep within her, building her up. Even when she tried to hurry his pace he would spank her hard until she stopped and let him continue at the controlled speed he’d set. He was as controlled fucking her as he was when he played his guitar. She both loved and hated it.
He was pushing her closer and closer to the edge and she couldn’t breathe, her mind went into sub-space, seeking nothing but the next rub against her g-spot and when he gathered her hair up off her neck and gave it a harsh pull she started tumbling over again. Her tiny body shivering around him, begging him to follow with her and how could he not? His body was practically vibrating from the last scream of “oh fuck” from her and when they finished he couldn’t help but laugh snuggling her on the couch and he asked her finally “so how many more of these little outfits do you have?”