doing?
Reacting to the urgency of his hand on her breast, a hand meant to appear paternal but now stroking seductively, Celeste straightened abruptly. Her animated cream-ivory breasts jutted explosively now and from his angle over her back shoulder, Ulrich could see rigid nipples taut against the translucent cup which served as a bra.
There was no way he could resist doing what he had long wanted to dare as she practiced before him. She could play her organ while he played with his.
Blessing the privacy he thought he had and the preoccupation he was sure she had with her soulful rendition of the music, he began to masturbate.
Not confidently. Not brazenly. An uncertain stroking, pumping erratically and stopping when he saw her hand reach suddenly for the master stop to lower the music to a whisper.
'Put it on my shoulder and do it,' came the quiet command. She paused a heart-stopping instant, then added, 'Tangle it in my hair while you play with it.'
A strangled gagging sound broke from the lips of dumb-struck Ulrich Flambeau. How had she known? He clutched his bared erection and stared at the motionless figure seated on the console bench, pointing her index finger at the base of her neck where she wanted to feel his penis.
'Celeste… I…' He gawked down at the calm, yet passionate beauty of her face, head turned slightly to let him see the princess-like regality of every chiseled line. Dark, dramatic thin-line eyebrows, and underneath, long curved lashes. From his position behind her he couldn't see those sparkling, wonderful eyes. But she had seen his lust. Oh, God!
At that second he caught sight of the built-in, nearly hidden mirror. She was openly studying the display of his erection, brazenly exposed by the glass. Just as he quailed completely from his carefully worked out plan for private play, she slammed two angry fists on the organ manual, sending a brief crescendo ricocheting against the studio walls.
'Do as I asked you to!' She hissed the words, fingering the snap at the vee of her decolletage and spilling the bodice of her white cocktail dress still wider. Now clearly visible was the taut transparency of her nipples.
She saw his violent tremble and her voice was as low as the music when she spoke: 'You needn't be embarrassed. I've wanted to see it for a long time. Please, place it on my shoulder and masturbate it over me.'
There was no way he could avoid those wonderful, dancing eyes turned suddenly upward to meet his. Pupils dark with excitement, even as she continued to play. His heart raced madly as awareness dawned. She had taken his advice precisely. He had said she should ask of the world what she wanted sexually. He was her first want. Now as he moved close to her and placed his horny cock on the silken sleekness of her shoulder, he was hers.
'Nice.' She squirmed on the console bench and turned back to face the keyboards, her flesh moving maddeningly under his phallus. 'You smell very nice. Do it at me!'
His fist tightened and the thin foreskin slithered back to expose a broad, vermilion cap. With slow deliberateness he straightened, drawing his hand from her breast and seizing the long shaft fiercely in both hands.
'Jerk off over my pretty body,' she said softly. There wasn't a hint of egotism to her words. It was a statement of fact accepted. 'Push your penis very close to my throat, then aim it straight down my decolletage.' Dark brunette lengths bounced lightly as she tossed her head impudently, making some of the hair cascade across his bonewhite prick and partially obscure the now nearly purple cap. 'Wrap it with my hair, if you're afraid to have me see it all. That'll feel good to both of us. Nice!' she murmured when he obeyed impetuously, sheathing part of the barrel with long tresses.
Her nipples, wild points of desire against the soft bra, were the only giveaway of her personal frenzy for his exhibitionism. As his stroking rhythm intensified, Flambeau had the odd, almost detached certainty he was about to soak those nipples with flying semen. But he never would… never could.
'Aaaahhh… eeehhh…!' His orgasm cry burst helplessly at the sight of sparkling come spraying furiously. It dashed into the wide cleavage of her cocktail gown and, splattering against that unblemished breast flesh, dripped and drooled to the most intimate reaches of her body under the dress.
The storm of his desire was hardly gone. To see his ejaculation splatter across her front whipped Flambeau with a reality that had long tortured him. He had to have his organ inside this sweet body! He must blast sperm deep into her vagina. But how? First fire her with frenzy for it. She had reached to tilt the mirror just before he came and her face was fully visible to him when his cock discharged. Her mouth had opened in startled excitement as he ejaculated over her shoulder. No sign of joy. Rather the look of one cheated.
Celeste accepted his hanky and touched her throat and bodice where there was a glisten of semen, then handed the damp cloth back to him. 'Put it out of sight,' she said softly, staring calmly at the collapsing penis. 'Don't close the zipper.'
Flambeau pressed the limp flesh inside his fly, determined to be as cool as his pupil. 'More definition as you play,' he said, nodding toward the book of music.
Her fingers were delicate on the keys and her voice lovely as she sang her accompaniment. No break in her tone as she saw the grotesque crown of a reawakening penis crawl from the dark cave of the trouser fly. His hand caught the creeping, stretching cock and guided it to its cradle at the hollow of her throat. There they both watched the erection swell.
She sang with unfaltering ease, even as she watched the blood-swollen barrel fill and stiffen, then quiver directly along the delicate femininity of her jaw line. The mushroom-shaped cap had a formidable threatening quality. She seemed unimpressed. The last words of the song whispered from her lips and her fingers lay quiet on the keyboard.
'I want to kiss it,' she said, tilting her face upward and looking over her shoulder at the inflamed erection. No hint of mirth or mischief. A kind of bright-eyed fierceness that dared him to obey.
'Wuh… would you… Celeste, would… you?' His whole frame trembled with sheer yearning for what he so often had dreamed. Celeste, gorgeous Celeste of the sweetly innocent heart-shaped mouth, wanted to close those sensuous lips on his need-filled prick! She was inviting him to meet her thirst with his come.
It was at that instant Dean Ulrich Flambeau saw the passion clear and transparent in the expression of cock-driven Celeste. The mask she wore so well, pretending to be detached from desire, was only false front. Her lips puckered silently at the very tip of the phallus, then only briefly nibbled a tiny, electrifying message.
She was totally professional at the organ keyboard, but now as he gaped at her femaleness, he saw a different organ was more interesting by far to her – his sex organ. She never would give away her cock passion. Always be the Goddess who would take the male as she willed. She could use and spend and perhaps even destroy those whose lust she allowed to bring tribute to her. But never – ever – would Celeste Ann Dantrelle let her personal phallic frenzy show.
Always on a pedestal above mortals.
Always the bewitching, voluptuous prick-tantalizing princess. Never revealing her sex passions until the instant of claiming the desired one. Like this moment!
Her eyes told him she was losing control. Dark turned to violet and predatory glitter showed the deep well of wanting. Her hair moved lightly as she shook her head, tumbling sexily across the sleek taut sloping of her shoulders. She straightened as if striving for self-control and the action forced the hard-nippled globes into dizzying prominence against the widened decolletage.
With only the slightest trembling, her exquisite fingers reached, touched the phallus of her desire, then clamped possessively around the gristle of his horny cock shaft. In that moment Flambeau saw yearning out of control in her expression. A want to be the conquering male drove him. Bracing on the balls of his feet, he rocked arrogantly, urging his pelvis to force the ramrodding prick through the funnel of her fingers against her lips.
'Kiss it again!' he hissed, not daring to command what he knew she really wanted. She was the Goddess. She chose.
Her fingers were a fierce vise as she felt the demanding wildness in the man and her squeeze forced the glans crown to balloon dark and huge.
'Be nice!' Urgent plea spilled breathlessly against his penis cap. She was female paralyzed with need. 'Shove your cock in my mouth!' Murmured, maddening word he never imagined she knew. 'I want to suck it… I want to
