Me and my Piano teacher

I was in high school. I never really wanted to take music lessons but it was a forgone conclusion in my family. Both my parents were very musical. My mother was a backup cellist in the cities symphony and my father had taken music lessons his entire childhood. My parents had tried to get me enthused about some instrument – any instrument, but to no avail.
I had played the violin for a few years (an extremely painful experience for all concerned), the tuba for 2 (see above re pain) and the guitar (somewhat better, but Eric Clapton I was not). As a last resort my parents suggested I try the piano. I resisted, but they were adamant so I reluctantly agreed. They looked around for a teacher in our area and found a few. They called around and the first two only taught on weekends. Mom and Dad wanted it done during the week. The next one they called was Miss Miller. She taught during the week and they said she sounded friendly.
On the next Wednesday I rode my bike over to Miss Miller’s house after school. She lived about 2 miles away from us so it was an easy ride. I arrived in a foul mood. I trudged up to her door and rang the bell. Miss Miller arrived at the door in short order and my world was suddenly much better. The sky was brighter; the colors were more poignant; EVERYTHING was better. Before me stood the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. She stood about 5’10”. I knew this because I was 6’0” and she was just a bit shorter than me. She had straight, supermodel-type, sheer, brunette hair, a gorgeous face and a body that looked like it might stop traffic. She was athletic looking with a curvaceous hips and legs and a HUGE chest. I couldn’t even guess at her bust size, but suffice it to say her feet probably didn’t get wet when it rained.
“Hello, James. I’m Miss Miller. Won’t you come in?”
I couldn’t speak. I merely followed her. The view from behind was another sight to behold. Curves in exactly the right places.
We went into her living room where I saw an intimidating full-sized grand piano. We passed the piano and sat at her couch.
“You mother tells me you’ve tried a few instruments already. Is that true?”
I could hardly think, let alone talk.
“Yes.”
“What instruments have you tried?”
“Violin, tuba and guitar.”
“Impressive. Why did you stop playing?”
“I don’t like playing instruments.”
“Are you more interested in the piano?”
“Not really, but Mom and Dad encouraged me to play so here I am.”
I immediately regretted saying that.
“I see. Maybe I should talk with your mother and tell her that you need to find an instrument that you WANT to play. Maybe there’s one out there.”
I had blown it. I wanted to keep coming to lessons if for no other reason than to see Miss Miller.
“Now that I think more about it. I think I really do want to try the piano.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m positive.”
“Great. Then let’s get started.”
We walked over to the piano, sat down and our lesson. She gave me some stuff to practice and I rode home to wait for the next lesson.
My lessons went on like this for 4 months. I would take any chance I could to look at Miss Miller. I was pretty sure she didn’t know I was looking. I was careful to avert my glaze when she would turn to me. Then came the day when she finally noticed.
My lesson ended and I got up to leave when Miss Miller stopped me.
“Please sit down, James.”
I did.
“You’ve been coming here for a little over 4 months now and you are not improving much. Are you practicing during the week?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I don’t think I believe that. I think you hardly touch the piano until you come here and then when you’re here you spend the whole lesson looking at me.”
Uh oh. She DID see me. I guess I was not as covert as I thought.
“I don’t mind the looking. Boys do that. It’s the fact that that’s ALL you do. As far as I’m concerned this is a waste of your time, a waste of MY time and a waste of your parents’ money. I think I need to talk to your mother.”
“Please don’t, Miss Miller. I’ll practice. I promise.”
“I’ll give you one more chance. You take this sheet home and practice it. When you return next Wednesday, I’ll test you. If I’m pleased with your progress we can continue. If not, I call your mother.”
Miss Miller handed me a piece of sheet music and directed me to the door.
I rode home and immediately went to the piano and practiced. I played for 2 hours every day. I was not going to let Miss Miller down.
Wednesday came and I rode to my lesson. Miss Miller directed me to the piano and sat down beside me.
“Am I going to be pleased?” she asked.
“I hope so.” I replied as I started to play. When I finished I looked over at Miss Miller, not sure of what her reaction would be. I looked up at her and saw a tear in her eye.
“That was perfect, James. Your temp was exact, your notes were precise. I don’t think I could have played that better myself. See what you can do? All you need is a little incentive.”
I beamed with pride.
My lesson went as usual and at the end just before I got up to leave, Miss Miller handed me another piece of sheet music.
“You go home and practice this piece and if you pass the test next week there will be a prize for you.”
“What kind of prize?”
“You’ll find out next Wednesday. Off you go.”
I rode home wondering what she could mean. I had no idea, but I wanted to find out so I again spent at least 2 hours every day at the piano.
Wednesday came and I rode to my lesson. I sat down nervously at the piano and began my test. When I was finished I looked over to see Miss Miller looking back with a big smile on her face.
“You’ve been working hard, haven’t you? I’m impressed. I knew you had talent in you.”
She wrote a few things down in her lesson pad and then looked up.
“I said something about a prize last week, didn’t I?”
I nodded.
“You’ve been looking at these for months now,” she said running her hands around her breasts. “You like them. I can see that.”
She kept talking but I have no idea what she said because she had also reached down and was undoing one of the buttons of her blouse. She finished then undid the next one. I was breathless. She pulled the neckline of her blouse apart and I could see her perfect mounds. She still had her bra on, but I could see more than I had ever seen in my life. This was way better than the magazines that Paul had got for me. Sure, they were naked in the magazines, but this was REAL. I stared. And stared. And stared.
She buttoned her blouse up. I was crestfallen.
“Five minutes and then onto the lesson.”
We did just that. From then on, the lesson went as usual. At the end she handed me a sheet without saying anything. I knew the rules now.
I raced home, ran up to my room and jerked off madly. I didn’t bother with the magazines; I just pictured Miss Miller’s perfection in my head. It only took less than a minute before I shot my load. I sat there thinking about her for a few minutes and then went down to start practicing. When I was done practicing I was horny again after thinking of Miss Miller’s breasts. I ran back up to my room and masturbated again.
Wednesday came around and I rode to my lesson, sat at the piano and did my test. Again Miss Miller had a large grin when I was done. She did her scribbling in her book, and undid her buttons. This time she did THREE buttons and I could see more of her breasts.
The five minutes ended and we did the lesson; me with a raging hard on the entire time. The lesson ended, I got my sheet and raced home to masturbate.
The next week was the same, but this time she undid ALL her buttons. I could see her all of her boobs. They were more perfect than I thought. My five minutes ended, we did the lesson and I raced home to masturbate.
It went on like this for another couple of months. Miss Miller went so far as to touch her breasts, stroke them and pinch her nipples, but her bra never came off. I didn’t care. I was in heaven.
School ended for the year and Mom came to my room one day.
“I’ve been thinking about it and I’m very proud of how well you’re doing in your piano lessons. I figured you’d probably want to have the summer off to go out and play so I’m okay if you want to stop your lessons and re-start them in the fall.”
There was no way I was going to stop. This was better that anything.
“Can I keep my lessons going for the summer, Mom?”
“Of course, James. I’m really pleased that you’re enjoying the piano so much.”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
The summer progressed, the major difference being that since I had no school I could practice more.
I was at my lesson on August 18th. I did my weekly test and Miss Miller was smiling like always.
“I heard you had a birthday recently.”
“Yep. It was recent.”
“I didn’t get you a present. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay, I wouldn’t expect you to get me anything.”
“Here’s your prize for this week.”
She said as she started to unbutton her blouse. She undid all the buttons and left the blouse hanging from her shoulders.
“Happy birthday.” She spoke pushing her chest forward.
I sat there looking as usual.
“You can touch them if you want.”
“If I want, are you joking?”
“No. Go ahead.” She said chuckling.
I reached out and touched her breasts. They felt wonderful. I had never touched breasts before and it was better than I ever thought it would be. I ran my hands over the globes, feeling her protruding nipples under my hand.
“Five minutes is up,” she said as she buttoned her blouse again.
“That wasn’t five minutes,” I replied.
She pointed at the clock and the lesson went on.
After the lesson I went extra fast home to jerk off. It was to the point now where my body associated sex with the piano. Just sitting at the piano to practice gave me a hard on now. Every day I would masturbate when I was done practicing and on Wednesdays I would jerk off before, too.
School started in September and a few weeks later I was sitting in my room doing my homework when my mother knocked on my door.
“May I come in, James?”
“Sure, Mom”
Mom came in and stood beside my desk.
“I just got off the phone with Miss Miller. She has some really good news.”
“Cool. What is it?”
“She said there’s a recital in San Francisco in mid-October that she thinks you’re ready to play at.”
“Cool.”
“She said if you’re okay with it she’ll sign you up to play and you can play Mozart’s Concerto No. 9.”
“What, Mozart? I’ve never played Mozart.”
“She thinks you’re ready. Oh and she’ll be coming too to hear you play.”
I was excited and scared at the same time.
Wednesday came and instead of starting my lesson with my test I started it with questions.
“Do you really think I’m ready for this?”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t. You’ve made so much progress the last 6 months. I can’t believe how much you’ve improved.”
“How can I play Mozart? I’ve never played it before.”
“You have a month to practice. I know you can do it.”
“I don’t know.”
“I do. I know for a fact you can do it. You’ve really been playing the piano for about 6 months and you now play better than someone who’s been at it for 6 YEARS. It’ll take lots of hard work, but I know you can make a success of it. Here’s a little incentive for you.”
I smiled. I knew what was coming.
Miss Miller unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it open. I stared, but she wasn’t done. Her hands went behind her back and undid her bra. The garment hit the floor, along with my jaw. I was in shock.
“Feel free to touch them.”
I played with her breasts like I did on my birthday, but this time it was skin on skin. I was in heaven. The five minutes sped by. She put her bra back on and did up her blouse. My lesson was as usual and after receiving Mozart’s Concerto No. 9 I raced home to masturbate. After feeling the magic flesh I was extra horny. I came quickly as always but this time I stayed hard, so I just kept pounding myself. In a few more minutes I came again and still stayed erect. I kept beating my meat and this time it took me over 20 minutes before I shot my third load and it went far. I had to rest for about 15 minutes before going downstairs to practice.
Over the next month or so I practiced extra hard, sometimes as much as 4 hours in one day. October 15th came, the day before my recital and I felt confident. I knew I could do it. Miss Miller was right.
The next morning my parents and I packed into our car and traveled the 5 hours down to ‘Frisco. We arrived midafternoon, checked into the hotel and went up to our room to rest up a bit. After about 90 minutes Miss Miller arrived and came to our room.
“Hi. I’m glad you three made it okay. The performances start at 8:00 and James is scheduled to be the second one up. Can you come down to my room so we can prepare a bit for your performance, James?”
I followed Miss Miller to her room. She was on the same floor as us, about 7 doors down the hall. She prepared me for being in a large auditorium and playing in front of an audience, something I had never done. We concluded and she gave me a kiss on the forehead before we went back to my room.
“I’d like to take everybody out for a pre-recital dinner,” Miss Miller said to my parents.
It was agreed and we went to a nice restaurant not far away. We had a nice meal and made pleasant small talk, killing time until my performance.
7:15 arrived and we felt it was time to get going. Better to be early and get ready at my own pace.
8:20. It was my turn. The host introduced me and I walked out on the stage in my tux with long tails (Miss Miller’s idea). The applause subsided after I sat at the piano and I began to play. I was not the least bit nervous. I belonged here. I played flawlessly and when I was done I received a standing ovation. The host came to the microphone and informed the audience that I had been playing the piano for less than one year. The audience gave me another ovation. This one lasting for almost 5 minutes. I bowed, waved to the audience and left the stage.
My parents were almost jumping out of their shoes when I reached them. My Mom had tears streaming down her face and I’m pretty sure my Dad was crying, too. Miss Miller smiled proudly. They all hugged me.
“James, I’m so proud of you. You have become such a good pianist,” my mother cried.
“James and I need to go back to the hotel and talk about his performance while it’s still totally fresh in both our minds,” Miss Miller said.
“That’s fine. We’ll stay and listen to the rest,” my father said.
I had a feeling, there was more than talk waiting for me in the hotel room.