Il canto dolcissimo

As a young piano player, who spent a lot of time practicing, it was normal for me to doze off a bit while I was playing. I would enter an almost dream-like state. And often, my dreams would turn in to fantasies.

A tall, lean woman appears, leaning in the bend of my grand piano, elegantly dressed in a long sheath gown reminiscent of Vionnet in the 1920s. She moves closer, gazing on me as I played. She leans over and I catch a glimpse of her breasts. She smiles, my playful music the soundtrack of her flirtations. I close my eyes, focusing on the music as it changes to a slower and more dramatic pace. I open my eyes to see her silky dress fall to the floor. She's wearing provocative black panties and stockings. She sits on the piano, crossing her legs, then leaning back. I continue to play, the music building in a crescendo. She rolls over seductively, her body now fully on the top of the piano. She taunts me with her body as I taunt her with my music. She undoes her stocks, sliding them off. She pushes down her panties. They land on the floor. The arpeggios vibrate through the piano, transferring to her body. She sits up and looks me directly in the eye, her legs spread, fingering her pussy slowly and in tempo with the music. The motion of her fingers quickens, as the melody climaxes. A perfect duet. We are in perfect synch. The final chord. She cums. The sound fades as she falls back in a soft moaning whimper.

I wake up.