Page 24 of CurVy 13

I don’t want to like it.

I hit the keyboard harder, pronouncing each sound, bashing the melody to a crescendo of painful thundering.

She slips her hand into my lap, and for a terrifying moment, I think it might happen. Right. Now. So, I lock my teeth, the black and white keys blurring...

She grabs my willy.

Blood surges through me. My eyes bulge, tears suddenly drowning my vision, but I keep playing that angry tune.

Stop.

She starts to rub me there.

God. Stop.

An electric shock rushes from my balls to my willy, my forehead burns, and embarrassing pleasure shoots up and out.

A stutter of a whimper breaks from me.

My fingers fall from the keys, and I push her hand away as it spurts into my pants. I curl in on myself, hiding the wet stain as it grows, as I continue to fill my pants.

I sob into my lap as it leaks down the inside of my leg.

"Dirty boys don't play piano."

I wake with a guttural growl and lurch upright, my arms pulsing and swinging, beating the air as I fight the memories, defending myself from the phantom bitch.

Sharp breaths slide into my lungs like hot pokers, each intake agonising but necessary.

Feeling my talent, I lift my hands and watch them shake. The tattoos disguise etches in my skin, self-inflicted gashes made with a blade I used to hide in my bunk.

Under the slats.

No one looked there.

The pain of my genius was so fucking immense back then that I wanted to see my talent pour from me, from my skin, from my soul.

Crimson all over her black and white keys.

Damn, these meds!

They make my memories too clear.

I look around our girl’s tiny house, more of a single-storey flat, and ache when the quiet circles me, mocking my lonely demons.

Not lonely for long.

She’ll be home soon.

This one is different.

Special. She’ll keep me, and I’ll keep her.

I stand up, and my cock juts to attention, so I shove my hand down my jeans and grip it, squeeze until there is pain and start to jerk off as I wander around her home.

Our home.

I walk into her bedroom, seeing the covers bunched. I crawl on with one hand and bury my face in her pillow, inhaling her scent, her sweet tears, and her sweat. I squeeze and milk myself. I roll around on the mattress, like a fucking dog wanting to gather her scent and leave mine.

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