Imagination

It had been one of those rush, rush, rush days, where you absolutely run around like a chicken missing it's much needed head, and you get no help from anyone. So it was with some relief that I plopped into the semi-comfortable chair at the doctor's office to await my appointment. I was a few minutes early, but knowing how our office ran at times, I was expecting to have to wait awhile. I skipped over the Highlights, Ranger Rick and Sports Illustrated magazines. (Now, if it had been the swimsuit issue, I would have of course looked. After all, I enjoy looking at pictures of the beach, and you never know when you might need a new swimsuit… right?)

Finally, I saw a fashion magazine on a table across the room. Still anticipating a long wait, I went and got it, and returned to my chair, which I had chosen, in the farthest corner of the waiting room. I am a procrastinator to the very last second, at times. I began idly thumbing through the magazine, feeling the usual tiredness you get after such a hectic pace, and then you suddenly stop running. And then, it all catches up with you at once. My eyes drooped a bit, as I continued to look at the pages, but not really seeing them. And then, I came to one of those pages, with the sample of fragrance… you know the kind. Of course, someone else had already opened it, but there was still the very faintest of scents that arose from the page, and assailed my senses with its potent, aphrodisiac powers. My eyelids drifted back up and caught sight of the photograph. It was one I had seen countless times before…

The blackness of the night was held at bay by the single lamp that had been lit. It rested on the top of the glossy black piano, casting its soft golden glow over the patina of the wood upon which it rested. It's light also bathed the woman that sat at the piano in a soft, pale light that was more highlight, than direct light. Her head was bent intently over the keys as she played the song. Her fingers were slim, long and used to playing for long hours. The piano was her passion. This was how she expressed her feelings, her thoughts, and the emotions that she dared not reveal to the world. Her hair was a brownish shade, but with the soft candlelight, it showed nearly golden and lit from within. The reddish fires that were deeply hidden in its deep waves had been brought forth in this gentle light. Her dress was the fashion of the day, low-cut, revealing the tops of her, rounded, full breasts. It was held off her shoulders in the design and thus revealed the curve of her neck as it met her shoulders. Her pink skin glowed softly in the light. She was alone and played forcefully, as she seldom had the opportunity of doing anymore.

The man who had entered the room behind her was held captivated by the beauty that was revealed in the soft light. The harsher light of day had not shown him the pureness of her skin, it's soft peachy-pink tint. He had had a hard time of keeping his eyes from the beautiful display of her bosom during dinner earlier that evening. As he moved farther into the room, closing the door behind him, and very quietly, turning the key in the lock, he could see her breasts rising and falling from her rapid breathing and enthusiastic playing. Lord Carringdon wondered if she would breathe that hard making love. His fingers itched to stroke along the curve of her white shoulders revealed by her low cut gown. He wondered if her skin were truly as soft as it looked.

He was by far a 'man of the world.' He was 40 this year, and widowed. His wife had died a number of years ago in childbirth. He had one son to inherit his lands, titles and monies, so that question no longer mattered to him. He had experienced quite a few women before his marriage, and some since. He had had a few mistresses a long the way, but at the moment, he was 'unattached.' He suspected that that was why he had been invited to Lord Davenport's estate in the country this weekend. He had been fawned upon both before, during and after dinner by mothers' searching for a wealthy son-in-law, two recently widowed women looking to replace their deceased husbands, and by one rather obvious married woman who was just looking to have some fun.

He and Harry Davenport had been friends all through their years first at Eton, and then at Oxford. They had both cut a wide swathe through the beautiful single ladies when they had made their first lunge at the 'ton' of London. Both men were very attractive, tall, very fit and masculine bodies, and best of all, both came from very wealthy, and titled families. They had everything to offer a single young lady, in her first season in London.

But both men were very clever, and lasted several seasons before they succumbed to the beauty of a young lady, and the cleverness of her mama. And while they didn't get to see each other as much as before, they had remained very good friends through the years.

Harry had married a pretty girl from the country, and they had 'lived happily ever after,' everyone had joked. They lived happily at Harry's country estate, only occasionally travelling to London, and raising children. Harry had proven very good at that. Harry and his wife, Priscilla, had managed to produce six children. The oldest being around 17 years now and the youngest was very lively 5 years old. Richard Carringdon had spent most of the day with Harry and the children, in an attempt to avoid the women that were so avidly chasing him. He suspected though that Priscilla had caved into pressure from her mother to invite Richard. Priscilla had two young nieces, 18 and 19 years of age, whom Richard had quickly figured out from their mother, were truly good 'wife' material, for a title lord, 'such as himself.'

Richard couldn't say for sure when he had first noticed her though. It had been sometime that afternoon. She had been playing with the children when he and Harry had come to take them all for a ride. Laura had been sitting on the grass, dappled in sunlight through the leafy trees above her, playing some silly game with the 5 and 7 year olds. At first he had not recognized her. It had been over 20 years since he had last seen her, and that had been when he was 18 and at her wedding. He and Harry had been much busier concentrating on the single ladies, than any married or recently married ones. Laura had married a very elderly gentleman friend of their father's, Harry had said. At that time he had not given it much thought for Laura had been a very quiet young thing, though she was two years older than her brother Harry, and inclined to fade into the background he had thought.

But seeing her now, he couldn't believe he hadn't paid more attention when they were younger, even though she had been a few years older. He had tried to get more information out of Harry that afternoon during the ride, but all Harry had said was that she had moved back home a few months ago. He assumed she was widowed, because her husband had looked to be near 50 when she married him. He couldn't help but wonder if the lovely widow would not be averse to a little 'liaison' with him. They were both adults after all, and if she needed a home, he could certainly afford to buy her a townhouse in London and keep in a very elegant style. These thoughts, and several others, had raced each other through his brain all during dinner. If asked, he would not have been able to recount what he or anyone else had said. He had watched Laura quietly eat her food, and sip her wine. He had watched as she licked an errant drop of red wine from her lower lip. He had gotten hard just watching her tongue sneak out to catch that drop of sweet wine. He wished it had been his tongue tasting the wine, her lips… her body. He was astonished at the rush of desire he had felt for this woman.

As he watched her now, playing so intently, so passionately, he was bewildered by the feelings he was having. He wanted to kiss her passionately. He wanted to make love to her over and over. He wanted to know her body, and her mind, he admitted to himself. He couldn't help but wonder if she would make love as passionately and whole-heartedly as she played the beautiful music on the piano. He pondered walking over to her now, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her up into his arms. He would kiss her heatedly, his tongue capturing and mastering her own. He would catch her moan of surprise and desire with his mouth. His hands would come up and cup her full breasts, squeezing her tender, sweet flesh until she squirmed in his arms. Then he would pull the gown down and breasts would pop free. He would gaze at her full, firm, pink tipped breasts for a moment, and then he suck her right nipple deeply into his hot, eager mouth, while squeezing and fondling her left breast.

Suddenly the music stopped, her hands freezing on the keys. Laura knew she was not alone in the room. She sensed that he had been watching for awhile, but she wasn't sure how long, she had been so wrapped up in her music. She turned slowly to face him, still seated on the piano bench. A bright pink flush stained her cheeks as she looked at him. He couldn't disguise his feelings for her that quickly, and she had been aware of him watching all through dinner. She had wanted to stare back for he was just as good-looking as he had always been. But she also knew that she wasn't a 'great beauty' like his first wife had been, nor as ravishingly gorgeous as his most recent, French mistress. Laura was practical. She knew who she was, and what she wasn't.

Richard's voice was deep, rough as he spoke to her finally breaking the awkward silence. "I'm sorry if I startled you Laura, but you were playing so beautifully that I didn't want you to stop."

Laura blushed even more at his complimentary words. "Thank you, Lord Carringdon."

Richard crossed the room to her now, standing at the side of the piano. Laura had to tilt her head back a bit to see him, he was so tall. "Surely you can call me Richard, Laura, considering how long we have known each other."

Laura smiled and nodded her head. She was aware of the heated look Richard was giving her. She had been married long enough to know what such looks meant. Her husband may have been much older than she, but he had been more than capable right up until his death over 10 years ago. She had happily lived at his estate until his son from his first marriage had decided to marry. She decided two women in the house would not do. Only one could be the true mistress, and the servants had all come to love and care for her so much, that unless she left completely, they would never truly accept her step-son's wife as their new mistress. And so she had contacted Harry and they had decided she could move into the dower house on their family estate. Since no one had lived there for quite a few years, it was in need of repair, so for now, she was still staying with Harry and Prissy. She loved children, and they loved her.

Laura had always been attracted to Richard, all the while he had been her brother's best friend. But he had been two years younger than she had, and she had known she would never attract a man as handsome, wealthy and as titled as the Duke of Carringdon. So when a visiting friend of her father's, Sir Reginald Stonewall had began courting her after the death of his wife, Laura had not resisted. He had been a good and kind man. As had his son had been to her. But now, it was late, past 1 AM, and she knew everyone else in the house was asleep. That was usually when she would play since the bedrooms were way at the far end of the house. But to have Richard surprise her like this, so late at night, when she was tired, and her defenses were down, who knew what would happen? And she didn't want to make a fool of herself over him. She had seen how the other women had been all but chasing him through out the house and the grounds since his arrival.

Richard let his heated gaze wander over her face, her softly flushing cheeks, her gently parted lips, wet and glistening from the nervous licking of her tongue. He wondered what she would do if he leaned over and covered her lips with his own, kissing the breath out of her. He moved closer to her unconsciously acting out his thoughts. Laura glanced up at him; her green eyes meeting his own deep, dark brown ones. Her breath caught as their eyes held, and held… sharing secrets, discovering long hidden desires. Richard reached out and grabbed her hands, pulling her up as he moved closer to her. Her body curled into his so naturally, so easily, as if she had been in his arms before, loved him before. His hot, open mouth covered her parted one, and he drank deeply of her sweet nectar. Her breath became his. Her hands lightly caressed the back of his neck, lightly catching in the dark hair then. As his own hands moved from her waist and came upwards, slowly, until he cupped her full, firm breasts in his eager, questing hands.

Laura clenched her hands in his hair, squeezing, pulling, without thinking. Richard's hands began stroking and squeezing, and molding her full, womanly flesh eagerly, tenderly, and wantonly. Laura eagerly opened her mouth to his, meeting his eager tongue with her own. Dear Lord, she thought to herself, she had never felt anything this intense, this wild, this out of control. She was near panting, trying to catch her breath, when he pulled her dress down. She gasped, as she looked down to see his hands, his flesh darker than her own, covering her pink-tipped, pale skinned breasts. When he squeezed her sensitive breasts, she moaned his named on a sigh that seemed to come from her inner soul.

"Dear God, Laura!" Richard finally rasped. "I want you so much. You are making me crazy." His hands moved from her exposed breasts up to her hair and he quickly pulled her sedate bun from its pin and her hair tumbled down to spill over her white shoulders and breasts.

Laura looked up into his rapt gaze. She was half surprised to hear her own voice whispering, 'yes.'

That was all he needed to hear. He shifted them both and suddenly he lifted her onto the piano keys. The sound was discordant in the quiet room. Laura gasped in surprise, but laughed joy also. She had never felt such overwhelming passion and desire in her life. Richard pulled her dress up eagerly and ripped her lace panties from her. He spread her thighs and eagerly moved between them. His hands moved down, pausing to lightly roll, then squeeze her taut, turgid nipples. He smiled as she cried out. He lightly caressed her softly rounded belly and moved between her wide spread thighs. He couldn't remember when he had last wanted a woman this bad. Maybe he was going crazy he thought to himself, and then he caught her sweet, womanly scent. He quickly moved to touch her mound of Venus, but he stopped abruptly. His eyes raised to Laura's, the question there, but unspoken.

Laura blushed brightly. His hands were caressing her shaven pussy. No one but her husband had ever seen her like that before. No one had known… She stammered to answer him, not sure what he would think, embarrassed. "My husband wanted me to do it… and I had just continued since he has been gone." She stopped abruptly as his fingers began exploring her sweetly bald lips. He smiled as he felt the wetness on her womanly lips. He finally looked up into her face.

"God, Laura… this is the most erotic moment of my life." He covered her mouth with his own as his fingers began teasing her clit, stroking her lips, and smoothing her wetness over her bald skin. He caught her soft sighs as her hips bucked against the teasing flicks of his fingers.

God… she was so wet, so hot. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. She had always lived so quietly, so safely. And here she was, making love on a piano, in her brother's house, with the man she had secretly loved, and wanted with all of a woman's passion, nearly all of her life. "Oh, Richard," she signed as he slid his fingers inside of her, gently stroking her, stretching. "It's been so long…"

"I know, darling." Richard answered, surprised at the hoarseness of his voice. "I'll be gentle…" He started to unfasten his pants, but Laura pushed his hands out of the way. She released his manhood, which sprang hard, hot and ready into her eager hands. It was Richard who gasped; his own knees nearly buckling for a second when he felt her soft womanly hands encircle his manhood. She stroked him firmly for a moment, and then moved her finger forward and circled the head of cock before catching the beads of pre-cum oozing forth.

She whispered softly "I want you, Richard, now." And that was all he needed. With one thrust he entered her body. She gasped once and her body took a moment to adjust and then her felt her sweet muscles squeezing him from deep inside her body. He couldn't believe this was happening… Could he really be making love to his best friend's sister, right here on the piano? And then, he stopped thinking and began thrusting within her, meeting her eager hips as he slid one hand between their bodies, to tease and flick her clit. She cried out suddenly, spasming around his hard cock. He couldn't stop… he felt like a young man, unseasoned and with his first woman. He felt her wetness around his cock, her pussy stroking him and pulling her ever deeper inside… Abruptly he lost control and followed her to climax.

"Miss?"

"Miss?"

Oh God, I thought. I could feel the wetness between my thighs, on my own shaven pussy. I had nearly cum right here in the chair at the doctor's office! I blushed brightly, even though I knew no one could really know my secret. After all, my thoughts were my own weren't they? I followed the assistant back to the office, secretly thanking God that I was seeing my eye doctor and not my gynecologist this day!

And so, I say, just what would we be without the overwhelming power of the human imagination?