Disclaimer: As usual.
Skin
My fingers brush against the elegant keys, music resounding through the cavernous room, swallowing every note like a giant maw in the ocean, awaiting a ship to wander closely. Each note echoes, bouncing off the walls and comes back to me. I think of her while I play.
As my fingers caress each key, I imagine them brushing against her skin, dancing lightly on her back as she lays next to me, the night spent with passion. Though, there is a difference; these keys are cool and lifeless, but when I touch her, caress her skin with my hands and mouth, I can feel life beneath my touch. A pulse comes up and meets me, letting me know that she is alive.
The softer, gentler notes remind me of her voice as I make love to her. Our bodies tangled together in passion, burning from sin. Sensuously moving, I am inside her, her walls clenching onto me, caressing me from within. To live inside her.
My fingers move faster against the keys, speeding up the tempo, and I can see us, atop the piano, making love furiously. She is beneath me, caged in between my arms, while her legs wrap around my waist. Those beautiful fighter legs. I do not need to have my eyes closed to see this; just with them open, I can see us, our bodies dancing together.
The notes swallow each other as my fingers dance, the entire room is filled with music, and it does not have enough time to send me back the sound. I cannot stop now, not when I have begun. I close my eyes, my head bowed as my fingers take a life on their own, creating music, while, behind my eyelids, I see us, atop the piano, beginning to reach our crescendo. I can almost hear her voice as she screams out my name, my hips thrusting into hers, pliant flesh meeting hard angles. Her fingers grip my shoulders, while mine dance upon her slick flesh, our bodies creating pools of liquid as her breathing hitches, ready to release that final scream.
The notes spill on one another, and my hands come crashing down on the keys, and I see that we have reached the climax. She is there, beneath me, and we are breathing heavily. I open my eyes, and notice that my breathing is laboured. I take several seconds to relish in the finished piece.
I look at the sheets of music splayed over the surface of the piano. The song was written down, but I have not yet come up with a title. Several minutes pass by before I get up and collect my things. The concert hall was to remain closed today, but I was able to pull a few strings. My performance is only but a few days away, and when I do play, I intend to see her, sitting in the front row. I want to see her eyes as she watches me caress the piano keys, just like I would if they were her skin.