The Cello Lesson

William Parker trudged down the drive that led from the main building to where his music lesson would be taught. The two-storey redbrick house that stood at the gates to the school's drive had formerly been the Janitor's residence, but was no longer used for that purpose and had been empty for several years. With the commencement of construction work taking place to enlarge the academy, its quiet isolation from the rest of the buildings let it be perfectly suitable as a centre for music tuition.

Trudging down the path to the building William considered that carrying his instrument was perhaps his one gripe with playing the cello; on windy days it would act as a sail to throw him off balance, slow him down when trying to hurry home in the rain. Today the case uncomfortably pressed his over-warm coat onto his back as the sun beat down unusually strong manner for an early spring afternoon.

It didn't help that he'd been let out of gym class five minutes earlier than he should have been in order to get to his lesson on time; his cheeks still flushed from the exertion of the 5-a-side football match. The office-formal clothes that all in the 6th Form were required to wear didn't help matters- the required smart trousers and shirt - even with a couple of buttons undone, still felt oppressive under the current weather. Still, he consoled himself, it was his last year at the school, soon he would be heading off to University and it didn't look like he would get the chance to play the cello much in the future, he might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

As he stepped through the front door of the house he heard his teacher Mrs. Richards play a piece he recognised but couldn't name, she was passing the time between her previous student and William, who was the last for the day. Closing the door behind him the muted rumble of school buses arriving to take pupils home could faintly be heard in pauses, but the music soon swelled and filled the space, drowning out the outside world. The warmth of the house and the smell of Mrs Richards perfume washed over him as he proceeded through the house.

He quietly moved through from the entrance hall to what would have been the living room, now sparsely furnished with a piano and stool, two chairs and a few music stands. On one of the chairs Mrs. Richards was perched on the piano stool with her back to the door, William glanced briefly down to the curves of her behind, she was wearing a black mid-length skirt today and it displayed her shapely form perfectly. At 43 she was almost 25 years his senior (William had turned 18 late the previous October) but he increasingly found her presence and appearance arousing, and at times had, somewhat guiltily, used the memory of this married woman to fuel his near-daily masturbation sessions.

Announcing his entrance with a brief 'hello' Mrs Richards stopped playing and rose from the chair, bending forward slightly, pushing her backside out towards him. She smiled as they engaged in idle conversation, asking about how practice in the school's orchestra had gone and about the unseasonal weather. At this remark William found himself glancing down towards Mrs Richards' breasts momentarily, which were covered by a thin maroon-coloured sweater with a black bra just about visible beneath. He imagined that they were probably 36DD, admiring her curves as she placed some sheet music on the stand, before quickly returning his gaze to her soft green eyes and bright smile as she stood up straight again. In the heeled boots she was wearing she was close in height to his 5 foot 9 inch frame and her body, from what William could see, remained youthful and toned.

He lifted his instrument from his back and quickly removed it from the soft carry-case. Having removed his coat he still found it uncomfortably warm in the room, the light streaming in through the French window. Sitting himself down on the stool his teacher had vacated, he positioned the instrument between his legs, both in order to begin his lesson, and also as a shield to hide his rapidly engorging semi from view. He knew his boxer briefs offered only a little resistance, and a full-blown hard-on would certainly tent his thin trousers. Thankfully Mrs Richards sat facing the piano in order to accompany William's cello part and, without her eyes on him, he became aware of his erection slowly subsiding.

After about 15 minutes they had moved on from the pieces he had practiced from the week before and started on a new set of sheet music. William became increasingly frustrated when attempting to play it, the fingers of his left hand stubbornly refusing to move accurately or fast enough, and in focusing on this his bow fell behind and crossed the wrong strings.

Mrs Richards moved from the piano. "Don't worry, it's all about muscle memory" she assured him, "you can follow my fingers and learn quickly from my example."

William stood, offering his cello over to her, assuming that she meant him to watch and learn, but she shook her head and told him to remain seated.

"Scoot back on that piano stool" she instructed, having taken the instrument from his hands. "Now," she continued, "I'll sit in front of you on it and play this piece and you place your hands over mine to follow and learn."

He did as instructed, the stool was just about long enough for both of them to sit on, and she sat between his legs, her skirt tight around her bottom only an inch away from the zipper of his trousers.

He noticed that her skirt had been hitched up in order for her to fit the instrument comfortably between her legs. He placed his hand on her right hand to follow the bowing, and his left hand over hers to follow the fingering. He realised that she didn't have a wedding ring on, the pale band on her finger in its absence. Perhaps she had lost it?

He didn't have long to ponder as Mrs Richards began to play, but with the feel of her delicate hands and the sweet jasmine aroma of her perfume filled his mind as he struggled to focus.

As she began playing, he became aware that now and then she would shift her body's position slightly, and after a few minutes had passed he realised that she had backed up right against his rapidly swelling member. William was desperately trying to focus on the music and resist the urge to press against her further. His mind drifted off to similar situation's he had found himself in. While he had enjoyed a few encounters with girls at parties and had fooled around a little with a girlfriend the previous summer, he was inexperienced and nervous when it came to such intimacy. His daydream was broken by the sound of Mrs Richards' voice.

"William?" she inquired. "Your fingers have stopped moving, you're completely stiff!"

She stopped playing, his hands lightly resting on hers. The room around them had become completely silent apart from their bodies; he could hear her light breathing and his own heart beating wildly. With each heartbeat he could feel the throb of blood in his hard penis. It was pressed down to the left between his thigh and his teacher's ass.

In a panic he dropped his hands down, but they fell onto the inside of her bare thighs, forgetting that she had raised her skirt. Before he could remove them he felt her grip him tightly, pinning him where he was.

"Your hands are terribly warm," she remarked breathily. "It's just so hot in here today! I opened one of the windows but it had no effect. I don't think we can do much to cool down short of taking out clothes off!"

William's member twitched eagerly against the strained fabric.

"Now, we should try another position, you play up front and I'll guide your hands from behind you."

His teacher stood up, allowing him to slide forward instead of standing and displaying the tent in his trousers. It was pressing out so much now that he was almost able to support his cello entirely with it. As he shifted forward he felt the warm release of pre-cum that had formed, he hoped that it wouldn't leak through to form a visible wet patch, and that the smell of his arousal would not be obvious.

"Just read the music for a minute while I get comfortable," she instructed walking behind him. He obeyed. As she did he caught a glimpse of her, her nipples appeared to be poking through her thin top although he couldn't tell for certain.

"Right then," she announced, sliding up behind him, "that's much better."

William glanced sideways as her hands came to rest on his. Her bare arms were visible...she had removed her sweater! William twitched with arousal, his penis straining once more behind the wooden body of the cello as his teacher leaned forwards, pressing her bra-supported breasts against his back. He was certain that he could feel her hard nipples pressed into his shirt. With her breathing gently by his ear, she whispered for him to start playing.

(To be continued...)