As was decided that morning, Astrid had the pleasure entertaining Walter at home this evening. While she was busy avoiding a trip to the emergency room, Peter enjoyed the solitude of the lab. Taking a seat at the grand piano (what wasn't considered normal in the lab, anymore?), he played a simple, jazzy tune. His eyes shut and let the melody carry him away. For a brief time, he lost himself as he swayed soulfully to the pleasing sounds his fingers produced. However, he was becoming gradually more aware of the steady tapping coming up behind him.
Shoes, he realized. Heels? But, who would be wearing . . .
A hand came delicately down onto his shoulder, proceeding to run up and down the length of his arm. Peter turned around casually, soon realizing that there was nothing casual about the way she was dressed. His eyes widened and he stuttered, failing to form a single coherent sentence – let alone word – making her smirk. A conscious effort was made to keep his focus above her neck, straining not to peek below.
"You know, you can look," she told him, playfully, index finger drawing circles over his chest. "This isn't just for me, after all."
Olivia was draped in a short robe of indigo silk, the hem of which stopped at the thigh, above her sheer, black stockings. And, on her feet, a pair of the sexiest pumps Peter had ever seen, which may have simply been because they were on her. She came forward into a standing straddle above his knee, locking those brilliant green eyes with his while she bit her lip seductively. The pale, bare skin of her chest was exposed by a plunging neck-line. Eyeing the rise and fall of each breath she took, he couldn't resist. Olivia purred softly at the sensation of his lips on her collarbone, stroking his hair as he trailed kisses down to the meeting of her breasts. Her foot glided sensually up the calf of an occupied Peter, whom had turned his attention to giving her neck an array of love bites of varying intensity. When he grazed her ear, his warm breath caused chills down her spine, making her entire body shudder. She pulled his head away, and leaned down to his level, moving in to lock her soft, full lips onto his. The two let out satisfied sighs, adding their tongues to the equation, and Peter untied her robe. It pooled at her feet, exposing a lacey, black bra and matching garter belt. Breathing was suddenly requiring much more effort. Those curves were intoxicating. Nothing mattered more to Peter, then, than being as close to her as he could. And, who was she to resist being pulled onto his lap? He held Olivia at the waist, bringing her flush against him, her knees spanning his thighs. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck as she continued their kiss, harder, rougher. Peter's fingers tugged at her hair, and she bit at his lip, soothing it with her tongue. Down her back, his fingers went, taking her bare ass in his palms. Soft moaning escaped Olivia's lips, the most arousing sound Peter had heard. Losing herself in the sensation, she unconsciously began thrusting into his erection, making Peter's concentration slip momentarily. He wouldn't let himself be at her mercy. Between them he brought his hand to cup her panties, which were radiating heat. Breaking the kiss, she shot upright with a gasp. Painfully slowly, he used a single finger to stroke her repeatedly. She laid her forehead against his shoulder and dug her nails into his back, wanting much, much more than his unbearable teasing. His attention turned to her most sensitive spot. It was almost too much. Almost.
"Take them off." She referred to the thin, soaked garment separating her from Peter. He complied, pulling them aside and running two fingers along her swollen lips. The taunting didn't end. He slid her bra down and simply breathed on a rosy nipple. Olivia threw her head back, desire coursing through her entire being. Waiting for her attention to return to him, he gazed up at his writhing belle, tousled, golden locks streaming over her shoulders. When her lust-filled eyes finally met his, he took her in his mouth, encircling the bud with his tongue as he sucked gently. Olivia reached down, putting pressure on the growing bulge in Peter's jeans. He hissed through his teeth, and plunged his fingers into her. A game of dominance began. Peter's tempo quickened. Olivia unfastened his pants. He curled into her, and she fondled him languidly. He used more pressure, and she matched it precisely. Her name nearly left his lips before she covered them with her own. A noise of surprise left Olivia's lips when Peter lifted her up and onto the piano. He hopped up, as well, and she clawed at his shirt, taking him down with her. He rubbed her delicately where she wanted him most, and watched her grip the edge of the instrument as her back left the gleaming surface. They gazed into one another, the intensity sure to ignite the room. He entered her deeply, and sounds of her arousal reverberated off of the walls. She bucked desperately. His pace wasn't quite quick enough to quench her thirst, which added more fuel to the burning she felt for him. Her brows furrowed.
"Faster, Peter. Please," she begged.
It only turned him on more to know how badly she wanted him, needed him. As he paid some well-deserved attention to her breasts, he failed to obey Olivia's words. Not only did his tempo slow down ever so slightly, he went harder. Much harder. Her eyes rolled back, and she relaxed briefly before a sudden change of pace elicited a shocked gasp. She practically purred as Peter more than doubled his speed, driving them both close to the edge. As Peter stroked the bud toward the tip of Olivia's heat, she locked her legs around him and her vocals chords went into overdrive. Her moans increased in pitch and volume until she finally came undone, Peter following close behind. Marks of their hands and bodies tattooed the piano, evidence of their love-making. Olivia's foot crashed against the keys: a chord of bliss.