Making My Old Piano Teacher Cream Read online

  Making My Old Piano Teacher Cream

  Max Handcock

  Copyright 2017 by Empyrion Media Ltd

  https://empyrionmedia.com

  This work is copyrighted. Please respect the hard work of the author and do not reproduce it in any form without the written prior permission of the author. Thank you!

  This work of erotica is intended for adults only. Not to be read by minors. It is a story of sexual exploration taking place between consenting adults.

  Announcement:

  Hi there fantastic reader,

  My publisher, Empyrion Media, only publish books by authors who write about their own genuine sexual experiences, so fake authors or armchair erotica fantasists will not bear the Empyrion Media emblem stamp of '100 Per Cent Real Sex' that can be found on all Empyrion Media titles, including my own.

  You're smart and know good value for money.

  Now please enjoy.

  Best Wishes,

  Max Handcock

  Verified Reviews:

  ‘This new author is sensational and I can’t wait to read his next release’

  ‘This book will make you look at older women differently’

  ‘This book is so hot and well written and yet at the same time, depraved. Nothing seems to be off-limits for this erotica author and his sex life’

  ‘I had to give myself some serious ‘relief’ after reading this book. So very explicit’

  ‘I would have paid double for this book. So hot and unlike fake erotica authors. Real-life erotica beats fantasy erotica authors hands-down’

  Making My Old Piano Teacher Cream

  Based on actual events

  Sussex, England, United Kingdom

  Wednesday June 1st 2016

  I felt my hands trembling as I stood there in the packed assembly hall of my old school. Assembled in the throng of chattering and animated individuals, were many of my old classmates. Some of them I hadn’t seen in over fifteen years. As I stood by the refreshments table cradling a white plastic cup of fruit punch, I surveyed the faces. There was Dan Wolfsen, our previous deputy head boy, still as tall as I remembered him, now standing at over six foot two, his once golden mane of blond hair, now reduced to a short back and sides with a bald patch at the crown. There were various friends, frenemies and downright bullies in assemblance.

  However it was not the frenemies nor the bullies that had me shaking inside and with butterflies in my stomach; instead it was the sight of my old piano teacher, Mrs Rosemary Agutter. She was stood by the front of the hall, in front of the speaker’s lectern, speaking with my former school headmaster, a gangly, morose and quite frankly despicable man by the name of Mr Pearce, who I could tell just by his facial expressions, was still a complete tool. Anyway, I wasn’t interested in the headmaster from hell, it was all about the divine Mrs Agutter.

  She had to be in her mid-sixties by now but she was still very attractive, in a homely sought of way. Not a stunner, but she had the right attractive attributes where it counted. Mid-length blonde hair, now more white than blonde. Good height at around five foot nine, long shapely blemish-free legs with sheer nylon stockings and generous child-bearing hips, although she had never had any children when I had known her as her admiring and lusting teenage piano student. Her two crowning features though were her massive mammaries, a busty Forty Double-E and her lovely succulent, massive round peach of an arse which jutted out in a mouth-watering fashion underneath her long pleated grey skirt.

  I had always been more of an arse man as opposed to a leg or breast man and Mrs Agutter had never failed to disappoint. Each of those succulent jelly-filled buttock cheeks were easily more than I handful and I loved to look at them. Many a night had I had a wet dream, wishfully dreaming about placing my face in between those two massive arse cheeks and making a buttock sandwich as I sniffed in her anal scent, which in my dreams, always smelt like cinnamon for some reason.

  Anyway, back to reality and the assembly hall. I couldn’t help but stare at Mrs Agutter and I felt my loins beginning to heat up as the blood flowed to my penis, causing me to involuntarily get a raging hard-on. I adjusted my dark-blue blazer, that I had been wearing over light brown chinos, and brought the bottom of the left hand side of the blazer to rest over my groin area and shield the embarrassing sight of my jutting penis, which mortifyingly was now leaking warm slippery precum into the front of my boxershorts. I looked down to make sure that the wetness of the precum that I could feel against my thigh, had not leaked through to my chinos. I sighed with relief that it hadn’t.

  I looked back up to resume my near-obsessive staring at Mrs Agutter. I almost gasped as I caught my old piano teacher staring back at me, with her radiant grey-blue eyes, contrasting sharply with her rosy cheeks, which I could see were even more reddish than usual. She was blushing heavily as she stared at me with an expression that contained a mixture of recognition, annoyance with a touch of intense dislike, excitement and guilt. I wasn’t at all surprised by this expression and knew full well the reason for her mixed emotions at recognising, me, her old piano student. For you see, as a fourteen year old secondary school pupil at our all-boys boarding school, I had been something of a horny sexual degenerate and had done the unspeakable act of manually fondling my piano teacher during our piano lessons.

  This is hand-to-heart the truth and not something that, as I write this real-life erotica ebook, I am particularly proud of, although it still excites me sexually. I remember it as if it were yesterday. It happened not once but repeatedly over the course of two years, from when I was fourteen years of age to when I stopped taking piano lessons at the age of sixteen. To this day I still don’t know why Mrs Agutter let me get away with it for so long and can only deduce from the considerable length of time that it went on, to events that occurred later that she must have enjoyed it.

  Let me set the scene of the first time it happened. I had already had a couple of lessons with Mrs Agutter and remember that I had a massive crush on her from the moment that I met her, despite the fact that she was old enough to be my mother, and in fact was older than my actual one. She had been kind and patient as she went over the various piano keys and their different names. As I sat next to her in front of the piano, all of five foot six, shorter then than Mrs Agutter, and seeing her as a fully grown woman, I prayed that she didn’t look down and she the rock hard erection that I had. Me, an adolescent teenager of all of fourteen years of age. As she demonstrated the sounds of each key by pressing down on them with her slender, smooth hands, I discreetly glanced across at her ample bosom.

  She was wearing a white woolen jumper over a black cotton blouse. Her skirt, as was always the case, was a pleated one, this time a long black one that came to just above her ankles. As she spoke and described the various piano keys, her soothing, crisp and articulate English melodic accent seemed like a distant background symphony as what commanded my full attention was those lovely mammaries.

  Despite the generous large size of her woolen jumper, it was still no match for her lovely Forty Double-E breasts. As I think back on it, I still get a raging hard-on and my mouth begins ever so slightly to salivate. Anyway I digress.

  “Okay Max, our lesson today is almost at an end. I hope you have been concentrating dear?” As Mrs Agutter spoke, I felt myself snapping back to my present surroundings.

  “Yes Mrs Agutter, I have. I’ve learnt a lot so far during these three lessons”, I spoke as innocently as I could and how I imagined any other student might speak, who didn’t have a massive unhealthy crush on his piano teacher.

  “Oh that’s wonderful. I do like to have good students like you. Makes my lessons so much more enjoyable”, my object of affe
ction uttered these words with genuine warmth and affection as she glanced down at me, as we sat together sharing a brief moment of mutual appreciation.

  Without thinking ahead or considering the appropriateness of my behaviour, I lent in, using my right arm to encircle Mrs Agutter’s back, and my left arm to flank around her stomach. I pressed my face against her bosom and inhaled her scent, a mixture of lavender and camomile emanating from her jumper. Her chest was very warm and heaved as she gasped.

  “Oh Max dear! Thank you for the hug but it isn’t quite appropriate”, Mrs Agutter uttered with shock and a touch of bemusement as she pried my arms from around her waist.

  “I’m sorry but you’re the nicest teacher I have”, I said, collecting myself and standing up from the piano stool. I could feel the blood rushing to my face as I struggled to contain my blushing. This seemed to bring out Mrs Agutter’s nurturing instinct as she stood up herself and patted me on my sandy brown hair, with her warm soft right hand.

  “There there dear, not to worry. Let’s see what space I have in my diary for next week”, she said as she smiled before taking a few steps back and turning to face a medium height shelf placed several feet away at the back of the small room. As she

  lent down to study her A4 diary on top of the shelf, I felt a powerful surge of desire as the blood rushed to my groin area, as her ample skirt-covered, buttocks were displayed prone in front of me. At the same time I felt a strong sense of apprehension and I felt my heart pounding and my mouth feeling unusually dry.

  There she was, bent over slightly and leaning against the shelf, her concentration firmly focused on her diary. I knew that I couldn’t control myself any longer and that I would regret it if I didn’t take this opportunity to act out the fantasy that I had been harboring during these last three piano lessons with this beautiful, kind, motherly lady. I took a step forward, the floorboards underneath creaking slightly. Nothing. Mrs Agutter’s attention remained on the diary before her. I took another step forward. This time the floorboards remained silent. I took two more silent steps in quick succession and then I was standing just behind her. She was oblivious to my close proximity. It was now or never.

  I licked my lips instinctively to moisten my mouth. My right hand, hanging down against my grey school-trousers, felt clammy and warm, yet it was with that hand that I reached out. I placed it softly yet firmly in a downward motion, with my fingers pointing to the ground, against the folds of her pleated black skirt. Specifically over the section covering her centre bottom cheeks where her two cheeks met to form the crack of her arse. I left my hand there as I felt the warmth emanating from these fleshy pillows of my desire.

  “Heh”, is the best way that I can describe the short, sharp, gasp that emanated from Mrs Agutter’s lips. She remained deathly still. Perhaps a mixture of shock or excitement, I couldn’t tell. For a few seconds she remained like that, whilst I held my breath; then to my astonishment, she continued reading the diary and lent down a bit further.

  I kid you not, for two more minutes she stood there, bent over ever so slightly, with her bottom being covered by my adolescent right hand and said nothing. I was excited beyond belief that this was happening but then also disappointed that things weren’t going further. At fourteen I had no idea about laws regarding underage sex or the rules governing teacher and student relationships. All I had to go on were the German pornography films that my Dutch school friend, Dave Hester, had lent me.

  Aren’t we supposed to be having sex right about now? I thought to myself, as my hand remained firmly against her bottom. I was perplexed. What do I do now? I wondered to myself. I started feeling a sense of guilt and fear. What would I do if someone walked in right now? Suppose Mrs Agutter turned around and slapped me, or worse still told that bastard of a headmaster Mr Pearce about our inappropriate encounter?

  As much as it pained me to do so, knowing that I could not risk being caught, I slowly removed my right hand from Mrs Agutter’s bottom. I immediately sensed her relax her composure.

  “Eh...Okay then, I’ll see you next Wednesday at the same time Max”, Mrs Agutter said, slightly struggling to get the words out. She said this without turning around to face me, obviously too embarrassed by what had just happened.

  Without saying a word, I stepped back from my close proximity to her and bent down to pick up my school satchel. I took one more lingering look at my object of lust and then turned around and opened the music room door, stepping through it and closing the door behind me. I made my way across the school grounds and returned to my dorm room, shutting the door and laying on my bed, my heart pounding. I relived the last hour in my head and could not believe what had happened and that I had gotten away with it. The one idea that was uppermost in mind was a simple one. Would I do it again? I knew the answer immediately. Of course I would. Consequences be damned. The whole experience had been so erotic and so amazingly electrifying that I knew that it would be like a drug that I’d find impossible to resist.

  Dear reader, I won’t bore you with the minute details except to say that, not only did I take the opportunity to fondle Mrs Agutter’s ample bottom at our next piano session but I did so repeatedly for the next two years that the sessions continued. Each and every time that I did so, the act itself took place without Mrs Agutter complaining or objecting and each time we both pretended as though nothing had happened. Despite whatever troubles or problems I may have had at school, from bullying older students to difficult exam results, I could always count on my sessions with Mrs Agutter to bring both excitement and relief to my young adolescent self.

  However all good things must come to an end and so it was that I finished my GCSE’s at the age of sixteen and my piano lessons came to an end. I had wanted to continue them for obvious reasons but my parents wanted me to focus on Economics and Mathematics. I never saw Mrs Agutter again after my GCSE’s had finished because I heard she left to teach music at a girl’s school. I could not help feeling that she may have chosen this career path to avoid being the object of lust for any other randy and horny teenage boys but then who knows? I would have my question answered many years later.

  Well fast forward sixteen years later and there I was, once again beholding the slightly heavier and older Mrs Agutter, as she stood across the assembly hall from me, talking with the aforementioned bastard headmaster, Mr Pearce. We stared at each other, both blushing and both with an instant sense of recognition and shared guilt at our past encounters. Then surprisingly Mrs Agutter parted her luscious full lips and smiled at me. I was taken aback. I felt my erection immediately harden. I could see this beautiful older woman saying something to Mr Pearce and then they embraced, before Mrs Agutter turned towards me and made a determined series of slow but deliberate steps in my direction. My heart began pounding. Before I knew it, she was standing in front of me.

  “Hello Max dear, it’s been a long time”, she said with a surprisingly relaxed and yet obviously aroused voice.

  “Hi Mrs Agutter, yes it’s good to see you. I’m surprised you recognised me after all these years!”, I said with an awkward pitch that showed how confused I was by all this.

  “No I could never forget you Max, and I think we both know why”, she said with a smirk.

  I could see now that this motherly and patient lady had indeed been well aware of what I had been doing those many years ago and yet was not annoyed or vexed by it.

  “I had always wanted us to properly conclude matters for our mutual benefit but for obvious reasons, not just your age but the fact that I was married, I could not”. She said, reaching out with her left hand and placing it on my waist for a moment, before taking it back.

  “I can’t believe that you’re not upset by what I did. Over such a long period and you never said anything”, I said as a sense of clarity and assuaging of guilt, fell over me.

  “Far from it Max”, she said as she lowered her voice conspiratorially.

  “In fact I’ll be honest with you. Those two years were
the most exciting of my life and although we didn’t do anything to let’s just say, bring things to fruition, I was still sexually fulfilled. My husband, who I divorced several years ago, was never very sexually motivated, at least not with me. In fact, apart from my little groping sessions with your hand, my only other sexual partner was my dildo, Max”, she said before letting out a giggle.

  “You named your dildo after me?”, I asked, my own voice lowering to match hers, as we stood close together, oblivious to our surroundings and other people in the assembly hall.

  “Of course! After our first session, I went out and bought it in a charming little sex shop in Central London, where no-one would recognise me. I’ll tell you that I had the best orgasms of my life thinking about your wandering hands as I brought myself to a creamy climax several times a week in between our sessions. I’ve always wanted to thank you for liberating me and giving me such a sexual boost. In fact I would like to thank you in a more demonstrable way”, she said, her expression becoming more intense and her gaze fixed intently on me.

  I smiled and knew exactly what Mrs Agutter meant. We were both grown ups now and above the age of consent and I knew that I had to fuck the hell out of this motherly older woman, even if it was the last thing I did.