A/N: An anon had asked me for another one-shot once upon a time, and I failed to deliver due to my insane work/school/life schedule. A recent request for more smut reminded me of this old tumblr one-shot I'd published, and I decided to share it here, since it was relatively well recieved over there. I hope you enjoy! And if you've read it already, it will give you the chance to favorite it on and keep it for your midnight smutty pleasures. :-)

Love you guys.

xoxoxo

Kurly

"And then, you just curl your fingers like this…."

"Like that?"

"Mhm,..yeah. Just like that." praised Sam, kissing her neck. "And then, you lightly stroke it. Not too hard, or…"

"Sam, I know how to stroke it. After all this time practicing, I know how to do at least that."

"Damn right, you do. I taught you." He bragged with a grin. "Now, make sure you grip the base nice and firm. After a while, it can get slippery."

She tightened her knuckles, like he instructed. "Like that? Firmer?"

"No, no. That's just right. You're doing great." Sam curled his fingers around her grip, guiding her hand. "Shift your hand a little bit….Perfect!" he smiled. His legs tightened around her, bringing her closer. "Now, just relax and feel it…." He breathed the words softly against her temple, closing his eyes as they moved as one on his instrument.

The melody that followed had Mercedes bouncing with glee.

"I did it! I played my first song on the guitar!" she squealed. Her infectious joy making him just as giddy.

"You did, babe! I told you it would happen! It just took some time, that's all." said Sam. "You want to learn to play some more songs?"

Mercedes nodded eagerly and smiled up at her boyfriend, settling deeper into the plush cushion underneath them as she poised her fingers to resume playing. It had been their Sunday ritual since summer, spending comfortable hours settled on her window seat, in each other's arms, as he taught her to play. It started as an idle mention, after Sam prompted a conversation about her many talents and she confessed her desire to learn to play something other than the piano, that somehow turned to Sam showing up at her doorstep one random Sunday after church, guitar and sheet music in hand. She protested at first, giving some weak excuse about being too old to learn a new instrument and not having long enough fingers to master the skill, but Sam's knowing smirk quieted her bullshit and he made his way in. One Sunday turned to two, then ten, until her mom started setting an extra place at the table for him for dinner and Mercedes opened the door before he could ring the doorbell.

His move to Kentucky, their awkward reunion, and subsequent romantic missteps put a brief pause in their lessons, but now that they were officially together and solid as ever, they resumed their Sundays as if nothing had ever stopped them.

"Can you teach me how to play this one?" she asked him, tapping the third page of sheet music scattered in front of them.

"Sure! I love that one. Great choice." He kissed her temple, making her blush, and resumed his teaching position. "Now this song is all about the subtlety of the fingers, the slight tremor of the lead hand as you strum the melody." He placed her hand along the curve of the body, demonstrating his meaning with his own fingers before guiding hers to proper position. Mercedes licked her lips in awe of his skilled hand; long fingers smoothing down taut strings, knowing when to pluck harder and softer without looking, making them tremble under the firm press of his index and tremor of his knuckles. Confidence closed his eyes as he played, and emotion pursed his lips during the peaks and valleys of the tune, captivating her in the strangest aphrodisiac. The room grew warmer when his arms flexed under the fitted sleeve of his henley, bulging and firm as he played the song to a smooth finish. Near the end, he did this slight mewling noise in his throat, a high, primal sound he made only when he was completely satisfied. And there were only two things that pleased him enough to cause that sound…..

The other was obviously playing guitar.

She quickly looked away, hastily wiping the corners of her mouth just as his eyes opened. It would've been awkward to explain her lusty eyes and drool, especially when he had no idea how much the sight of him playing turned her on.

"Ready?" he asked, voice low and gentle as he placed his hands atop hers. "I'll put you in position."

Not the position she hoped for. Her mind wandered to something along the lines of bending over the window seat, chin and chest resting on the cushion as he thrust softly into her, stroking her with the only organ she cared about, playing her body until she hit somewhere near high C. But, his rough hands guiding her softer ones satisfied some urges. The callouses from years of playing had served a purpose higher than music; he rubbed against her skin with delicious friction as he ran his fingers over hers, laying fingertip to fingernail as he pressed into her and, without notice, suddenly flicked her finger across the guitar string and made sound.

She gasped, shaken from her haze. "God!" she half whispered and half cried, biting her lips to suppress a moan.

Sam leaned his chin over her shoulder, shooting a curious glance her way.

His eyes sparkled with realization. He knew that face. He loved that face. And the reasons behind that face made him grin in mild amusement.

"You like this, don't you?" he asked, in his deep timbre. Her resulting tremble answered without words. Growing more confident, he moved her fingers again, slowly, ridged cord over ridged cord until she played an entire line of music and ground her bottom into the cushions from frustration. She tried to keep the moan in her throat, lord knows she did, but Sam pressed his hardness into the crux of her, and she lost all control over the sounds that came from her.

"Mmph" she whimpered, caught in the feel of rippled muscle and heat pressed against her back. Sam kissed the shell of her ear, just as slow and studied as he moved her hands, and whispered for her to keep playing. Mercedes obeyed, eyes closed as she gave into the music they made, hand atop hand as they moved as one. His free fingers searched the curves of her body, smoothed over the peak and swell of her breast and curve of hip, coming to rest in the seat of her tight boy shorts.

"Keep playing." He whispered. "Close your eyes and feel the music." He told her.

And somewhere between his voice and her sigh, she reached nirvana, his fingers leaving hers to give full attention to every inch of her. She moved slower now, played lighter, as he cupped her breasts, ran thumbs over her taut buds and played her just as deftly as the guitar. She gasped when he skated down her body, and froze completely when he parted her thighs and searched for her wetness.

Sam had never been more right. It can get slippery, playing an instrument. She knew then, when each hand found a moist lip and parted, reaching an idle finger to strum her clit and sink into her damp heat.

Guitar forgotten, she reached down to cup his skillful hand atop her boy shorts, hoping to guide his movements.

"No." He swatted her away with his left hand, continuing to pleasure her with his right. "Spread your legs and let me play."

Ever the student, she jumped to comply and let the instructor teach her. One finger became two, and her legs curled around his parted knees to give him all the room he needed. Bless the creator for his agile fingers, long enough to reach as deep as she needed and skilled to the tune of her body, rubbing and curling whenever she needed him to touch that aching spot that drove her higher.

He drove his knuckles in harder, faster, and two fingers suddenly became three and squished deliciously with every rapid thrust into her wetness. They flexed and twirled as one, demanding every drop of her essence.

"Yeah! Fuck….." she whined, meeting him with her hips as she neared the edge of climax. Their excited pants chorused beautifully in the quiet of the room, growing faster and thicker with each closed lipped moan and lick of her neck. He kissed that spot below her ear, and her body quivered and tightened around him, trembling in orgasmic crescendo. He rubbed her pussy with his soaked fingers, circling her tight nub until she eased down from her high. When her breathing evened, he kissed her neck and pulled out. She looked at him and blushed when he sucked his fingers in his mouth, tasting the fruits of his labor with a satisfied grin.

"So, same time next Sunday?" he said with a smack of his lips. "Or, do we need more practice?" She felt his stiff organ harden to its full potential against her back.

"Definitely more practice." She breathily replied, before pushing him against the window and hopping on his lap.

What could she say? She was a slow learner…