The private elevator whispers to the penthouse floor. Floor-to-ceiling glass walls frame the city skyline, diamonds glittering below. Persian rugs muffle steps. A Steinway grand piano gleams under crystal chandelier light. Leather armchairs invite sin. I am Paul, 30s elite, composer to the rich. Charlotte arrives, 18, fresh from high school bus. Pretty floral dress clings. She knows men’s gazes linger on her lithe body. But boys bore her. Virgin lips untouched. Parents gone, aunt funds these lessons. Her dream: music swirling in her head.
Nerves hit hard. In the elevator, she wets herself slightly. Shame burns. Hand checks skirt—no stain. She slips off panties, stuffs them in her bag. Wipes her slick pussy with mother’s silk handkerchief. Door opens. I greet her, tall, intense eyes. Baba-cool vibe eases her. We enter the salon. I play a melancholic melody. Fingers dance—delicate, brutal. Notes cascade like hot rain on her neck, breasts. Heat builds in her core. Unseen, her hand snakes under skirt. No panties ease the way. Fingers circle clit, plunge slit. Wet slaps echo. I turn, mesmerized. Her head lolls, mouth agape, lost in ecstasy. I play on, cock throbbing. She spasms, gasps, cums hard.
The Privilege
Reality crashes. She bolts, grabs bag, yanks door—locked. Panic. I approach softly. ‘You can’t leave like this.’ Point to my bulge. Guide her hand. Heat pulses. ‘Help me. But no touching—stay virgin.’ She unzips, frees my rigid cock. Strokes awkwardly. Kneels. Curiosity blooms. First cock—huge, like porn. Tongue tastes pre-cum. I push in. She savors, sucks delicately. I erupt. She gulps first spurt, grimaces bitter. Pulls out—jets paint nose, lips, cheeks. Gland smears remnants.
Thursdays addict her. Urges strike anywhere—toilet stalls at school. Today, second lesson. She arrives flushed, pre-cum twice already. Corsage hints pert tits. Plisse skirt hugs ass. She excels—gammes fluid. Graceful fingers fly. I sit close, teach melody. She drifts to leather armchair behind. Mind wanders erotic. Panties off. Fingers taste her nectar. Eyes hunt: Baccarat candlestick. Thick, phallic. On all fours, skirt hiked, she eases it into her ass. Silk-smooth cheeks glow. Blonde pubes shimmer.
The Excess
I spin. Shock, lust. Cock aches. Kneel. Hand to her belly, pubes, dripping lips. Free my shaft. She grabs, rubs cheeks, nose. Licks gland. Devours. I pump candle deeper. She straddles my face—pussy to mouth. I suck tender folds, tongue nectar. Candle thrusts her ass. She deepthroats, hair teasing thighs. But she craves more. Removes candle. Guides cock to pussy—rubs, slicks it. Hesitates. Then anus. Dilated ring yields. Half-in, she rides frantic. Full depth. Grinds. I strip corsage, bra. Pinch nipples. She moans. Hand circles clit. She bucks wild—ass clenching shaft. Wave crashes. She shatters, vision whites, soul dissolves.
I cum deep inside. ‘I love you,’ I pant. Silence wraps us. Velvet night beyond glass.
