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The Piano Lessons (Mf, cons, pedo)



BRITANNUS [shocked] Caesar: this is not proper.
THEODOTUS [outraged] How!
CAESAR [recovering his self-possession] Pardon him, Theodotus: he is a barbarian,
and thinks that the customs of his tribe and island are the laws of nature.
 --  G. B. Shaw


The music flowed from my fingers, ta dah di, ta dah di. Okay, so I was only
playing two chords, the tonic and dominant and a five note melody, but I
was playing it.

I'd always wanted to learn to play the piano. I love music especially the
classics. But I never learned to read or play music. Then one day I saw an
ad for a new method of learning the piano. It was pioneered by an Aussie
fellow and consisted of learning to play by sight and hand memory as opposed
to years of practicing scales. It promised to have me playing music in six
months.  I signed up that day.

The plan was a group lesson each week with individual work as needed. The
group lesson had ten students, all kids except for me. Most of the kids were
being forced to take lessons and they acted like it. They ranged from maybe
seven up to eleven or twelve. There was one girl, a little older who was
quite beautiful in a Lolita way. Dangerous. She mentioned the local high
school when asked where she attended so she was somewhere between fourteen
and eighteen. I am lousy at guessing ages but I would have gone for the lower
number. Unlike the rest of the kids she was determined to master the piano
and always came prepared to perform whatever song we were doing.

Sitting at the piano, she started playing. Her left hand, the chord hand,
was flawless. She made the structure of the song so clear I was amazed. The
melody flowed around the chords as she played. It sounded like a pro. I closed
my eyes and let the sound carry me away. How could she make such a simple
little song sound so well? When she finished I thought I should clap and
then realized where I was. Thankfully, I didn't make a fool of myself.

She came over and sat in the chair next to me. "I'm Mike," I said.

Regarding me off handedly, she said curtly, "Heather."

At least she didn't say 'My name is like Heather.' "Your left hand was wonderful,"
I said.

Her eyes lit up and a smile bloomed, "Really?"

"Oh yeah. The way you did the chords. I wish I could play them that well,"
I said.

"I didn't think anyone would notice. I worked all week on the chords. I bet
I played them seven hundred times," she said exaggerating only slightly I'm
sure. Another student was about to start and the instructor hushed us. I
made a face as he turned back and she giggled behind her hand as the next
student began the same song.

I got my turn next and tried to make the chords flow as hers had done but
there was just the slightest irregularity in the beat. Syncopation is fine
in ragtime but not when you're playing a folksong. I almost slammed the top
down on the piano as I finished I was so mad. The instructor took one look
at me and said, "You did fine."

"I didn't do half as well as Heather," I said.

"Yes you did," he said. "You did exactly half as well." The tension evaporated
as the students all broke up and I had to join in. I looked at Heather and
her eyes were bright with mirth as she mimicked me banging away at the keys.
When we quieted down the instructor had me do it again, phrase by phrase,
showing me how to better control the tempo to even out the beat. It sounded
like a song by the time I got through and I was mollified.

As I sat next to Heather I smiled and she smiled back. "I'll show you how,"
she said before we got shushed again. The rest of the lesson was pretty boring,
watching the kids all make the same mistakes and not really caring if they
played the song well. It bothered me that I had never had the chance these
kids had and they were wasting it.  I wished I could tell them how glad they
would be in twenty years if they knew music, but I didn't know how to convince
them. Maybe they would never notice the lack in their lives. It was a very
sad thought.

As we were leaving Heather caught my eye. I stopped. "I was serious," she
said. "I could show you how I do it." That's all I need for my ego - a teeny
bopper showing me how to play the piano. Then I remembered that Mozart was
writing operas at her age. "You live near Garden Park don't you?"

"Yeah. Just down the street. 2548 Oak Street," I said.

"I only live a few blocks away. Tomorrow, after school?" she asked.

Without much thought I said, "Sure. Anything that will make me better."

She smiled and danced away to a car that was pulling up. The woman driving
looked like an older version of Heather. As they drove off Heather looked
my way and smiled.

That night I started to think about what I had committed to. Maybe this wasn't
such a good idea. That's all I needed was a cute little teen coming over
and the neighbors getting the wrong idea. I was old enough to be her father
plus a few years.

But I wasn't going to start anything and I was sure that a pretty young woman
was not going to find me much of a catch. Lolita is an interesting book but
it isn't real. I decided there really wasn't anything to worry about.

The next day Heather showed up as promised. I had been practicing - trying
to get the tempo to flow as the instructor had shown me. I was beginning
to suspect the same rhythmic challenges I had while trying to learn how to
dance were going to mess with my music playing. Maybe there was something
wrong with me and I was never going to be able to play music. That was a
dreadful thought. Heather's arrival swept my maunderings away. I opened the
door and she bounced in full of mirth and sunshine. The piano is in the front
room so we headed straight to it.

She sat down and said, "Here. This is what I do with the chords," and she
started playing the song.

I listened to her glide through the piece. "Wonderful," I said when she finished.
"How do you make it so smooth?"

She moved over and patted the bench. I slid in next to her. The seating was
quite tight. "Like this," she said. She played a few chords that start the
song and then stopped. "You do it." I tried. Then she played it on the high
keys as I played the bass line. Having her playing it at the same time helped.
Pretty soon my ear was forcing my hand to match her rhythms. By about the
fifth run through we played almost perfectly together. I started to laugh
from the sheer joy of making a beautiful sound. I was doing it. She laughed
with me. "I'll play the low and you play the high this time," she said. We
crossed hands and played it again. It was comical as our hands and arms got
all tangled. Soon we were laughing like crazy. She started to clown. I put
my arm around her to play the chords on the highest notes and she leaned
across me to play the melody on the deepest bass notes. It sounded atrocious
and made us laugh even more.

In a fit of high spirits Heather bounced into my lap and took command of
the center notes making me play the high and low parts around her. Pianos
are not built for two sets of legs and she had to push back into my lap to
get her legs comfortable. Up till then I had been laughing and clowning and
not really thinking of Heather as a desirable woman. But with her butt pushing
into my lap as she squirmed around to play the music and chase my hands around
the keyboard, I noticed - this was a beautiful young woman in my lap. The
predictable happened. I tried to think about scales and chords and melodies
as her cute little ass rubbed against me. It was no good. Woodie rose to
the occasion. I was wearing lightweight slacks and it soon became apparent
to Heather as well. She stopped playing and turned her head back to look
at me. I was embarrassed as all hell.

"Is that for me?" she asked.

I felt the heat in my face. "Heather, I'm sorry. Really, I apologize. I didn't
try to... I mean, it just sort of happened. I mean, you were in my lap and
my body just did it."

"Oh," she said. "Does that mean you don't think I'm attractive? It was just
a body thing?"

"No, No," I stammered. "You are a beautiful young woman. I mean, you are
very attractive and that's why it happened." The words just tumbled out and
as I heard myself my mind started to think about what I was saying. Mike
boy, you are screwing this up royally. "What I mean is I'm old enough to
be your father and I shouldn't, well, you know, get like that."

"Why not?" she said quizzically.

"It isn't proper to let people see, you know. I should have kept it hidden,"
I answered.

"It is hidden," she said. "I can't see a thing."

That made me smile even in my discomfiture. "Very funny."

"So, you think I'm beautiful?" she asked.

"Oh yes," I said.

"Even though I'm sixteen?' she asked.

"Yes, even though. Yes, you are beautiful," I said.

"No one but my dad has ever told me I'm beautiful and he doesn't count. So
I guess that makes you the first. For that you get a reward." She leaned
back and kissed me briefly but with intention. I didn't know what to say.
This whole thing had spun out of control as far as I was concerned and my
mind wasn't working very cogently. She was still in my lap and I felt her
moving her butt around making Woodie even harder. "I like to feel you like
this. Is that terrible?" she asked.

I shook my head and said, "No, of course not. It is normal. Everyone likes
to know that they are desirable and this is undeniable proof, isn't it. But
I'm not supposed to do this and I could get in big trouble so maybe..."

She cut in, "No you can't 'cuz I would never tell anyone. Ever. Even under
torture or making me take algebra I wouldn't tell."

I had to laugh, "Algebra?"

"Yes, even if I had to take algebra again I wouldn't tell," she said with
a bright smile.

"Thank you," I said. "But we are here for me to learn to play this beast."
I put my hands on her hips and pressed to the right to encourage her to move.

She pushed back against me and held her position. "Okay let's play," as she
started the next song. It was very hard, no pun intended, to concentrate
on the music with this pixie in my lap. But I worked at it. We played through
several more songs with Heather leading me and me matching her rhythm and
tempo. I was hard the entire time and I could tell that she would squirm
at times feeling me pushing against her butt. Finally it was time for her
to go. She slid off my lap and stood. I wanted to stand but that would have
caused a huge tent and I couldn't face that. I was feeling embarrassed again.

"Can I come again?" she asked.

"I should say no but I really liked playing together with you. Next time,
we play side by side though," I said.

"Chicken," she said.

"Yes. I am," with a smile.

Heather stood there expectantly and I knew she was waiting for me to see
her to the door, the polite thing to do. "I can't stand," I said. A concerned
look flashed across her face. "No, not like that. I mean if I stand up then,
how do I explain..."

She glanced down at the tent in my slacks and figured it out. She rolled
her eyes and said, "So you're just going to be rude?"

The perfect riposte. I was trapped. Swallowing I said, "You're right." I
stood, jamming my hand in my front pocket trying to hide the too obvious
bulge. Heather smiled and rolled her eyes again. I saw her to the door and
held it open for her.

She put out her hand forcing me to pull my hand from my pocket. As I did
she glanced down, "You don't need to be ashamed," she said.

"I'm not ashamed. Maybe a little embarrassed," I said smiling.

She held my hand as she said, "Well I have to get going."

"Yes," I said.

She looked at our hands and finally released mine. "Bye," she said, a last
glance at my condition and she turned and started away.

"Bye," I called after her. I closed the door and went to the window so that
I could watch her. She looked so cute walking away. I couldn't take my eyes
off her. She looked back as the house next door came between us. I couldn't
tell if she could see me staring. Another step and she disappeared.

Oh the thoughts I had. My mind was running wild the next few days. Heather
was so damn good looking and desirable and innocent and yet knowing all at
the same time. She hadn't been shocked when she felt my erection against
her cute little ass. She had reveled in it, squirming around, feeling it
against her. She had smiled appreciatively. Was she too innocent to know
what that meant? No, she had known very well what it meant and she had felt
complimented which of course a woman should. There is no more sincere compliment
than an erection. A man can't lie about that.

I would lay in bed at night, close my eyes and Heather would come to me filling
my mind with thoughts I knew I shouldn't have. I made love to her so many
times in so many ways and so many places over the next few days I lost count.
Ah, poor Humbert, I was finding out what his pain and longing were like.

My fantasies ran away with me until the next lesson. I arrived and immediately
looked around for Heather. She wasn't there. I had a horrible premonition
that she had told her mother what had happened. Her mother, of course, had
pulled her from the class. I would never see Heather again. As I was sinking
into despair, the door opened and Heather appeared, a smile brightening her
face as she crossed the room with a saucy bounce in her step. My spirit rose
from the depths and scaled the heights. She bounced over and sat next to
me. She smiled for me and then turned toward the teacher. I was happy.

Looking back, this all seems so melodramatic and silly. I was old enough
to know better. When I was young I had my infatuations, as we all do. I had
tasted the sweet honey of first love and the bitter fruit of unrequited love
when every glance carries so much passion, so much meaning. I had outgrown
these sophomoric passions, hadn't I? Yet here I was, afflicted and silly
as a callow youth. It was very unbecoming and had I noticed how silly I was
acting I would have stopped it immediately.

So I squirmed in my chair as I watched child after child wretchedly assault
the Ode to Joy and waited for Heather. Delicious Heather seated at my side.
Finally, it was her turn. I sat tensely, straining to see as she started
playing. Once again, she played effortlessly. The music soared from the piano
and filled the room. I was again amazed at how easy she made it seem. Yet
I knew she had not had more lessons than I. I felt envy. How could I harbor
dark emotions for her? The darkness faded as she finished and turned to me,
smiling. I smiled back. She returned to her chair, smiling shyly. "Once again,
you were wonderful," I said.

"Thanks. I worked really hard," she said before the teacher shushed us.

I sat through the rest of the lesson aware of Heather sitting by my side.
My senses were at fever pitch. A slight move and I noticed. At the end of
the lesson the teacher thanked us all. Heather bounced up and headed for
the door. I followed, discreetly, cut off by the horde of children rushing
for the door. When I gained the door Heather was standing by the road. I
was about to walk over when a car pulled up. It was the same woman I had
seen before. Heather climbed in and was gone.

Confused, I found my car and went home. What was I to think? Why had Heather
not even spoken to me after class? As I maundered, in between my fantasies
of Heather and me in wild sexual scenes, I reached the only sensible conclusion.
I had let my desires run away with me. I had supposed Heather felt as I did,
which was ridiculous. Of course she didn't think of me sexually. She had
been flattered by my obvious attraction but she had to think of me as an
'old man.' My bubble burst with the realization. The nice thing was that
I didn't have as many fantasies running away with my mind day and night.
I still had a few. You hate to waste good fantasies but they certainly quieted
down now that Heather had become unattainable.

I was much calmer at the lesson the following week. Heather came in and took
her seat next to me as usual. I smiled and she returned it but that was all.
It confirmed my suppositions. I was just an old guy who had complimented
her with his hard on. I had to face facts. Heather probably knew exactly
what it had been. I recalled reading about a recent study the CDC had completed
on the sexual behavior of teens. The average age of first intercourse was
13.8 years. Half of the teens in the study had their first boff before they
were 14. Heather must have already had a boyfriend and learned the Ars Amore.
For her, it must not have been a big deal. I mean it was a big deal, just
not in that way. I mean, it wasn't little. Oh, never mind.

The teacher called me to the piano first. I sat down and started to play.
Unfortunately, with all of my fantasies and maunderings I hadn't practiced
as much as I should have. And not having Heather before me as a good example,
well, let's just say my playing sucked and leave it at that. After I finished
I looked up at the teacher. He had knowing eyes and asked, "Didn't have time
to practice this week?"

"Um, it was a very busy week. I guess it shows," I answered.

"Maybe you could put in a few extra sessions this next week and get back
on track," he said gently.

Guiltily I said, "Yes. I'll work on it." I slunk back to my seat. How bad
is that, embarrassing yourself in front of a bunch of ten-year-olds. I didn't
look at Heather, I couldn't.

Halfway through the next student's set I felt a hand on my thigh. I looked
up, startled, to see Heather looking up at me. Quietly she asked, "Can I
come over Saturday? You need help."

I nodded. Her hand went back to her lap. I need help. Damn, but she was correct.

At the end of the hour Heather bounced up and without a backward glance headed
out the door. By the time I made it out the door the car carrying Heather
was down the street. I got a little mad at myself. I was determined to master
this damn beast, the piano. I spent the next several evenings banging away
until my wrists were sore. I'd show Heather that I didn't need help.

Mid morning Saturday I heard the doorbell. I didn't expect anyone this early.
I opened the door ready to tell them, No, I don't want the Watchtower. Heather
was standing there. I was stunned. She was wearing, or more accurately, not
wearing quite an outfit. She had on a skin tight micro mini that just barely
covered her butt. For a top she was wearing two small triangles of cloth
held together by string. Oh and sandals. That was it.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

I stepped aside closing the door after her. "Did your Mom let you out of
the house in that?"

Heather laughed, "God no. She went to the store so I changed into this before
I left."

"And how are you going to get home?" I asked.

She showed me her purse and then pulled out a thin jersey and baggy sweat
pants. "I'll put these on before I get home. What she doesn't know won't
kill her."

I started to say something and then remembered, my friends used to pull the
same stunts when we were that age. I laughed, "We used to do the same thing."

"Really?"

"Heather, take my word for it. Kids have been doing the same stuff for hundreds
of years. And parents know it too," I said.

"My Mom doesn't know. She'd kill me," Heather said hastily. I smiled inwardly.
No use arguing. "Anyway, I need to help you. God, you killed that song."

"I've been working on it," I said with a touch of defensiveness.

Heather went over to the piano and sat down. She patted the bench next to
her. I slid in but made sure that my legs were well under the piano. No way
could she hop into my lap. She started playing the song, then stopped and
had me play the first phrase. "Hey, that was pretty good. How come you murdered
it at the lesson?"

"I had a lot on my mind last week. Truth is, I didn't practice very much,"
I said.

Heather turned toward me and said, "Bad boy. You know you're supposed to
practice."

"Guilty," I said laughing. "You're not going to spank me are you?"

Her gaze got serious, "I've heard some guys like that."

Too serious. I started playing the second part of the song. I looked at Heather
as I finished and I noticed that the twisting around had caused her skirt
to ride up. It couldn't go much higher, I thought. I had to swallow as my
throat had become unexpectedly dry.

"You did that pretty good," she said. "Let's do the next one." She started
playing. Glancing her way my eyes were pulled as if by a lodestone to her
legs. More of her legs were uncovered and the skirt was creeping even higher.
My stomach was making funny little flips and flops. My eyes traveled up.
The triangles of her bra didn't cover her breasts entirely. I could see the
beginning of the swelling of her mounds before they flowed under the cloth
- Being partially exposed made the view terribly erotic. It was just a promise
without the detail and made my mind create the rest of the picture. My breath
felt constricted. I couldn't take a deep breath. I felt Heather's thigh pressing
against mine and looked down. Her legs were apart enough to have forced the
skirt still higher. I saw a dark patch and at first assumed it was her panties.
But Heather twisted again forcing the skirt even higher and I got a clear
picture. She wasn't wearing panties. I stared at her pubic hair. It was dark
but not thick. I could see the faint outlines of her lips through the sparse
hair. I started to panic. I needed to send her home now. But I was lost in
the view. My body didn't listen to my mind - it reacted as millennia of natural
selection had trained it to react. I was filled with desire to couple with
this nubile nymphet sitting next to me.

I noticed the music had stopped. How long ago I didn't know. I looked up.
Heather was smiling. "You like?" She put her hand on my thigh and then slid
it higher. I was filled with tension as if a million volts of erotic energy
had zapped its way through my body. My cock was instantly hard. She looked
down and my eyes followed. "Is that for me?" she asked.

"Yes," I answered simply.

"I don't have to be home until dinner," she said.

"Huh?' I asked.

"I told Mom that I'd be gone all day. I don't have to home until six. I can
stay all day, if you'd like," she said.

"Heather, do you know what I think you are saying?" I asked her solemnly.
She nodded. "You sure?" She nodded again but there was a hint of unease in
her face. The way she was biting her lips, she was filled with tension I
could sense rather than see. "What do you think of my playing today?" I asked
changing the subject.

"It's pretty good, today," she said smiling again.

"So if we don't need to practice all day what did you think we'd do?" I asked.

"We could talk, or do things," she said looking down at the keyboard.

I put my finger under her chin and lifted her face toward mine. "Heather,
I think you are desirable beyond belief." She smiled. "And this outfit would
drive any man crazy. I don't think it's fair at all you not wearing anything
under that skirt," I said.

She laughed and then turning her body toward me crossed one leg under the
other leaving her legs completely open and giving me a beautiful view. "I
wasn't trying to be fair," she said affecting a sultry tone in her voice.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" I asked.

"That's not the way it's done," she scolded me. "You are supposed to sweep
me up in your arms and kiss me."

"Like this?" as I pulled her toward me and kissed her, our lips touching
gently and then harder, then parting and finally our tongues dueled and danced.

"Yes," she said breathlessly as we broke the kiss. "That's what you are supposed
to do."

"And then what?" I asked.

"You are supposed to sweep me away," she said.

"To where? No, that's okay. I can guess." A rising sense of panic filled
me. But it was exactly offset by a rising tide of desire. Desire, panic -
which would win?

Heather was watching me and in that instinctive woman's way she saw the conflict
and knew how to get what she wanted. As I started to speak she put her fingers
to my lips. "Don't say anything. It isn't romantic to talk so much. Just
kiss me and show me what you want."

I defy any man to say no to a beautiful desirable young woman asking him
to kiss her and show her his desire. I am not that man. I leaned forward
and kissed my beautiful Heather. Her lips parted and her tongue teased me.
I responded. Her hands came up around my neck. My hands went round her cute
bottom pulling her onto me. She straddled my lap, her ass pressing down on
my erect cock. She felt it and rubbed against it. She pulled back and holding
my eye said, "I'd like to see your bedroom."

I started to help her off my lap when she said, "No, like this." I turned
on the bench and stood, Heather maintained her place, arms around my neck
and her legs around my waist. I walked into my bedroom entwined with a lovely
nymphet. She smiled mysteriously the entire time. Once in the bedroom I glanced
at the bed. She did as well and smiled again. A knee on the bed and I slowly
lowered both of us to the soft surface of the bed. I covered her with my
body and we kissed passionately. My hips moved between her legs pressing
my cock against her pussy. I saw one of the strings around her neck and pulled
it. The garment came loose exposing her tits. They were small perfectly formed
orbs surmounted by hard nipples. Another pull on the string and the little
triangles were whisked off the bed. I leaned in for another kiss.

The faintest uneasiness hovered in my mind. I couldn't quite place it. I
looked into Heather's eyes for a sign that I was going too far, trepidation,
concern and found no signs. Instead I saw passion and desire, her eyes half
closed, her mouth slightly open, her breathing deep.

My mouth slid to her neck, nibbling and licking until she giggled. I kissed
down lower running my tongue to and then around her tits, teasing her and
then finally as her back arched up pushing her tits into my mouth I kissed
and bit her hard nipples.

Lower still, I teased her flat belly before coming to her Garden of Delights,
her dark tuft not quite concealing the treasure within. I settled between
her legs and gazed at her beautiful pussy. Her outer lips parted as her legs
settled open. My tongue, seemingly of its own volition, sought her opening.
Licking up and down her pussy she quickly became wet with arousal. I started
to concentrate around her clitoris, circling, teasing then lashing it and
retreating only to return to the siege again. She gasped and trembled, her
head rolling side to side as I lashed her clitoris. I covered her with my
mouth sucking her entire bud into my mouth fucking her with my lips, sucking,
fucking, licking her. I slid my finger into her pussy, curling it into her,
finding her center and massaging her vagina as I continued to tongue and
suck her. Her legs trembled as a flush spread over her chest. She was close.
I sucked her clitoris into my mouth again, fucking her pussy with mouth and
finger as she crested, a moan arose in her throat.

I watched as she quivered from her climax, I held still, resting my tongue
against her button but not moving it until her climax passed. When her breathing
was returning to normal and the flush had faded from her chest I pulled back,
bringing a small moan to her lips. I wanted her now more than ever. I quickly
stripped off my shirt, tore off my pants and flung them to the floor. Heather's
eyes had opened, they were full of satiation and yet still wet with desire.
I reached for the small skirt which had bunched up on her hips. She raised
her butt and it slid off. Between her legs for the second time, this time
we were to join as a man and woman are meant, piercing her, possessing her
while she takes mastery over me by submitting. My cock pressed against her
wet opening. A small moan as I pressed forward and slid easily into her hot
welcoming chamber.

"Oh God, Heather. You feel so good," I said.

"Mmm," she moaned as she pressed against me pulling me deeper into her. Her
eyes opened, her face was a mask of desire as she said, "I want it. Please."

I gave her what she desired, slow deep strokes interspersed with rapid shallow
ones, teasing and then filling her, bringing her closer and closer, her fingers
digging into my arms, her hips thrusting against mine trying to pull a climax
from my cock, until I felt her rising and fucked into her hard and deep,
rolling my hips at the bottom of each thrust mashing her clitoris and rubbing
it hard and nasty and forcing her over the edge... Her nails drove into my
flesh but I didn't notice as her climax ripped mine from the depths of my
being. I felt my soul spasm and filled my darling with my cum. I collapsed
onto her writhing body barely able to hold myself over her. I rolled to her
side pulling her with me so that I was still inside her.

As we lay resting, she said, "I knew I could teach you to play piano."

"Well, you certainly played me very well," I said.

She looked confused so I continued, "I mean you got me exactly where you
wanted me."

She giggled. "You were pretty easy," she said.

"I guess that wasn't your first time?" I asked.

"Was it yours?" she responded.

I laughed, "Touché."

"Did you think I was a virgin?" she asked her arm and leg lying on me as
she pressed herself into my body.

"I didn't think about it at first. But you seemed to know how to do things.
And you didn't seem confused or concerned." I said.

"Does that bother you?' she asked.

"What? No, of course not." I said.

"I've had two boyfriends. The first was a mistake. I liked the second one
and we did it a lot. I mean, we went together for most of my freshman year.
It really hurt when he broke up with me. I found out he was sleeping with
another girl, a sophomore. When I asked him about it he denied it but that
night he left a message on my phone breaking up."

"I'm sorry sweetheart."

"It's okay. It hurt for a while then I got really mad at him. I mean, I never
once had a climax with him. I always had to take care of myself later. So
it's not like I was really missing all that much." Heather turned her face
up to me and smiled. "So you were really my first. You gave me my first real
time."

I quietly stroked her for a minute or so and thought about all that had happened.
I had questions but no answers. Here I was lying in my bed with a beautiful
little nymph having just had exquisite sex with her and truth be told I didn't
know why. "Heather?" She nodded. "Why me?"

"You're not supposed to ask a question like that," she said.

"Sorry," I said. "But I do want to understand."

We were quiet for a while. Then Heather lay her head on my chest. "Why did
you ask why me?"

"Because I wanted to know," I said.

"Don't you know why?" she asked.

"No."

"Because I like you. What did you think?" she asked.

"I guess I never thought that. I mean, I'm older than you and I never thought
you'd like an old guy like me," I said.

"I like that you are old, I mean older than me. It makes you kinda distinguished.
That little bit of gray in your beard. I like it." Her hand tickled my chin.

I smacked her butt lightly, she yelped and tried to tickle me. I grabbed
her hands and pushed her back against the bed. She struggled for a while
and then relaxed. Our eyes met. I leaned down and our lips met. Just that
quickly my cock rose. "Again?" I asked.

"No," she said. "you despoiler of girls." I leaned forward to kiss her but
she turned her face away though there was a smile on her lips. She pulled
her hand free and it insinuated it between us. My cock had responded to the
fresh eroticism in the air. Her hand found it and stroked a few times then
she pulled me forward. She seated the head between her labia and rubbed it
around until I was coated with her lubricant. I pushed forward entering her
again. "No, no..." she said. Her legs went around me pulling against my ass
until I was fully inside her. Her hips ground up against me. "I can't stop
you from taking advantage of me," she said as she continued to rub herself
against me. She dropped the quavering voice and finished, "But if you're
going to take advantage of me you better satisfy me too," as I pulled back
and thrust into her.

And so went the rest of our first afternoon together.

I floated through the next few days. Never had I imagined something so precious,
so wonderful happening to me. Heather had given me my youth again. Loving
her had returned me the ardor of youth. My whole being was energized in ways
it hadn't since my youth. I remembered our lovemaking, the passion of youth
with the control of age. I laughed for no reason and nothing bothered me.
Truly, the world was brighter, the colors more vibrant and details of life
more distinct.

At our lesson that week my eyes would constantly flow to Heather only to
find her looking at me. We'd smile and then guiltily look back at the teacher
only to find our gazes locking just moments later. After the lesson, Heather
walked from the room with me.

"Can I come over Saturday?" she asked.

Before I could answer the car was pulling up. Heather saw it and then her
eyes darted toward mine expectantly. "Yes," I answered. Her face beamed and
she turned and ran toward the waiting car. I watched as she bounded into
the car. I glanced at the driver and saw a look on her face, a measuring
look. She said something to Heather as the car started moving. I waited to
see if Heather would look back but she was answering her mother. The car
disappeared into traffic.

Heather arrived late on Saturday. I was pacing in my front room worried that
she wasn't coming. On one trip I saw her walking up the street. I met her
at the door. "Hi."

She smiled, "Sorry I'm late. Mom kept asking me to do things this morning.
I didn't think I was ever going to get away." As I closed the door she came
into my arms. "I only have a little while," she said. "I don't want to waste
it." We kissed.

I carried her into my room and laid her on the bed. She looked up at me a
smile on her face. I leaned over her and our lips met again.

There was an urgency to our coupling. We both tore at our clothes knowing
we had precious little time. Once naked Heather pulled me to her, taking
my hard cock and bringing it to her opening. I pushed in but she wasn't ready
yet. I started small gentle thrusts, circling around her pussy until I was
able to push in a little bit. Then another thrust, and I sunk into her a
little more. She was getting wetter as I continued, my cock sinking into
her body degree by degree, until my cock was coated with her juices and I
could sink into her completely. The urgency returned as I began thrusting
into her, hearing her moaning and saying yes, yes, yes almost under her breath.
I was rushing to completion, pounding into my little darling until it came,
and I did and she did as well.

We celebrated our fourth anniversary, four Saturdays together, with a long
and slow seduction. We lay in bed after our lovemaking and talked about piano,
and high school and for the first time she began to ask about my world. She
was interested in the 'work world.' What was it like to have a job? What
was it like to have a boss? She was naïve but also bright and asked some
discerning questions. When it was time to go I started to get up. "No," she
said. "I like seeing you naked. Lay there while I get dressed."

I watched as she hid her loveliness under jeans and a sweater. Too bad. "You
are beautiful," I told her.

She smiled that beaming smile I had come to love. "Next Saturday I want to
try some things."

"What things?" I asked.

"I've been reading a book," she answered. I raised my eyebrows. "A sex manual,"
she continued. I raised my head and started to ask her - when she interrupted,
"You'll have to wait till Saturday to find out." Smugly satisfied she blew
me a kiss and said, "I'll see myself out, Dear," and swept from the room.

I nearly started to laugh but that would have ruined the effect. After I
heard the door close I lay in bed bemused from so much happiness. I thought
about Heather and all of the joy she was bringing me. But there was still
the difference in our ages, and lives. I wanted to possess her completely,
to hold her, to own her. But I knew that I couldn't. In one of those transcendent
moments of real intuition I knew Humbert's mistake. He had taught Lolita
to fly and then tried to keep her in the nest, owning her and possessing
her. It wasn't possible. His obsession was his downfall. Not his love of
Lolita but his obsession with possessing her and keeping her from living.
I couldn't make the same mistake. I knew I would have to let Heather fly
from the nest when she was ready. I had given her wings and taught her to
use them. I would not make that mistake and so my love of my little Lolita
would not have to end in tragedy.

Monday evening I was practicing that week's main piece. For the first time
we were playing in a minor key, G minor, Mozart's key of tragedy. I heard
a knock on the door. When I opened the door I was stunned. It was Heather
but this woman was almost my age. I am sure the shock showed on my face.

"I guess you are surprised to see me," she said.

"Excuse me but I don't think I know you," I said.

"I'm Heather's mother. May I come in?" she asked.

"Of course." My mind was racing as I ushered her in. "May I get you something
to drink?"

"No thank you. I'm not here for pleasure," she said.

A feeling of dread welled up, "How may I help you." I followed to the heavy
tread of the executioner's march.

"You know why I'm here," she said her voice low.

"Why no," I answered.

"Please," she said. "I don't have time for games. I feel sick to even be
here, to think what has happened here..." Her eyes became steely. "I know
about you and Heather. I followed her Saturday. I parked across the street
and saw the two of you disappear as soon as she arrived.  I confronted her
and she admitted it all." She paused and waited for me.

"I don't know what to say," I responded.

"I almost called the police right then, sitting in my car and thinking about
what you were doing to my baby," she said. I had often heard the phrase 'my
blood ran cold,' and for the first time I knew exactly what that felt like.
She continued looking at the wall behind me, "But I kept seeing in my mind
Heather, naked, and the cops rushing into the room. I couldn't stand that.
And then I thought about the courtroom and Heather having to testify, to
detail the lurid ugly things you did to her." Her voice had a low hissing
quality now. "You deserve everything that would happen to you. But Heather
would be punished as well and she doesn't deserve it. I'd like to see you
dragged away in handcuffs to prison, to know that child molesters get it
in prison." I thought about correcting her - statutory rape isn't the same
as child molesting but it seemed a moot point at the moment. "But Heather
doesn't deserve punishment and I can't do one without doing both." She paused
and looked at me. "So I'm going to offer you a deal. If you don't accept
it, I walk out of here and call the police. You know what happens then?"

I nodded. I was well aware of what would happen then. It all rushed through
my mind kaleidoscopically, arrest, trial, jail, all because I loved a woman
who was younger than I and because she loved me back. "Yes, I know what would
happen then."

"Good, I hope you think about that a lot. You agree to never see Heather
again, never talk with her, never write to her, ever, even after she's eighteen..."
she saw the look on my face. "Yes, even after she's eighteen. I know what
the statute of limitations is. I can still call the police then. You will
never see my daughter again. You will never put your filthy hands on her
again. You will never do your filthy perverted things to her again. Do you
understand me?" I nodded.

"And to make sure that you can't see her again I want you to move away from
here," she said.

"Move?" I asked stunned.

"Yes. Move or jail. Your choice." I was sick but I nodded again. She stood,
"I don't have anything else to say to you. I was going to ask why you would
do something so disgusting but I don't think I want to know. Goodbye."

I started to stand but she motioned me down. Her heels made a clicking sound
on the wooden floor as she left. The door closed on the rest of my life.
I slumped in the chair. What was I going to do? I stumbled out to the kitchen
and poured myself a large glass of wine. I stared at the walls of the kitchen,
Sell my house? Quit my job? Move away? Because of some arbitrary number,
eighteen? I finished the wine and poured another. I felt the tears start
as I finished the second glass. I poured the rest of the bottle of wine into
the glass.

I stumbled into the front room and slumped into a chair. There was the piano,
the instrument of pleasure and of torture. It had led me to this moment,
pain and loss. If only I hadn't taken those piano lessons. More tears rolled
down my cheeks as I contemplated all I was losing: job and friends and house.
I stared at the wine in my glass, the way the light reflected form it's pristine
surface, cold and clear so unlike my life. I swallowed the rest of the wine.
I remember my head falling back against the chair.

My head throbbed - that is what woke me. I was still sitting in my easy chair.
Morning light flooded the room. I stumbled into the bathroom. After brushing
my teeth and a shower I was again feeling vaguely human. I considered several
options but quickly discarded them. The one overriding truth was that I had
no stomach for scandal. I would meekly slink from the scene hoping that I
would leave untouched. What the cost was didn't matter. I could rage and
scream but it wouldn't change my course, the die had been cast.

I was on the phone lining up a real estate agent when I heard someone at
my front door. I opened the door and Heather flew into my arms tears staining
her cheeks. "Oh Mike. I'm so sorry. When Mom told me she parked outside and
saw everything I got so mad I told her about us. But I was telling her it
was none of her business and then she said she was going to call the cops,
and I got scared what they'd do to us and I started begging her not too...
Do you really have to move?"

"Whoa sweetheart. Calm down and we can talk," I said. I glanced past Heather
and saw a car parked down the street. A car I thought I recognized. "Heather,
what color is your Mom's car?"

"A dark red color. Why?" She saw my eyes flick up and she turned her head.
"No. She followed me."

"We have to call her," I said.

"Mike I want to see you."

"And I want to see you but if your mom calls the police the only way you'll
see me is visiting hours at jail," I said quietly.

"That's not right. You didn't rape me. I wanted to," she said.

"I know. But that's what would happen." Mike pulled away from Heather and
picked up his phone. He dialed the number Heather gave him. It was answered
on the first ring. "Hi. Yes it's me. Yes, I know you don't want to talk with
me but I have something I need to tell you. Heather came over to my house.
Just now. No, we haven't 'done' anything. She just got here. I'll send her
home. Don't bother? Why? You'll come pick her up... Okay, she'll be waiting."
I hung up the phone. "I'm sorry sweetheart."

"Mike what are we going to do? She can't make us never see each other again,"
Heather said breathlessly.

"She can and she's going to. And there isn't a thing either of us can do
about it." I looked up to see the car pulling up outside. "She's here."

Heather looked out the window and then back at me. Tears started again. It
hurt so much to see her in pain and I wanted to pull her into my arms. But
the harridan was outside, waiting for an excuse. "I love you Mike."

"I love you sweetheart. I'll always remember you. Have a wonderful life and
I hope you meet a man who will be twice as good to you as I could ever have
been."

A racking sob burst from Heather as she turned and ran out the door. Her
mother was staring at her as Heather as ran down the walkway. As she climbed
into the car I saw her mother asked her something. I knew what. What had
I done to her? Heather's head came up and a steely expression crossed her
face. Heather started to yell at her mother and that quickly they were in
a screaming bout. Then her mother slammed the car into gear and tore away.
I knew I had seen Heather for the last time.

It took exactly four weeks to get a buyer for my house, nice when the housing
market is hot, and to land a new job. It was in LA. Unfortunately LA could
be the model for Dante's third level of hell. But it was a job and it even
paid more than I currently made.

The front bell rang on the afternoon I was to sign the final papers. The
movers were coming in the morning. It was the harridan. "I didn't expect
to see you."

"Your house is selling today. When are you leaving?" she asked.

She must have been watching me quite closely. I was tempted to yell and scream
at this bitch but I didn't want her to have the satisfaction. "The movers
will be here tomorrow. I will pack up and be gone the next day. I am moving
to..."

"Don't tell me," she said. "I don't want to know where you are. And make
sure Heather doesn't know either. I don't want Heather to suffer anymore."

Suffer? Oh yes Heather was suffering but it wasn't because of me. I started
to say you are making her suffer but knew that her mother would never accept
that. "Don't worry. I will be gone soon and Heather will forget, in time."

She looked intently at me. "You never look like this has meant anything to
you. Don't you have any feeling at all?"

That was too much. The tears stared before I could stop them. As they rolled
down my cheeks I gasped, "I never wanted to give you the satisfaction of
knowing how much you hurt me. But yes, you hurt me as much as you are hurting
Heather."

"I never hurt Heather. I'm protecting her," she lashed back at me.

I turned away and wiped the tears from my face and composed myself as best
I could. I turned back and said quietly, "I never hurt Heather. I never would
knowingly hurt her. She's hurt but it's not I who has hurt her."

"You took her innocence," she said menacingly.

I stood mute but my eyes gave lie to that statement.

Her mother understood. "Are you saying... No, she couldn't have. She's too
young." She looked at me and my eyes confirmed it. "No, I refuse to believe
it."

"I think the most dishonest thing in the world is to know the truth but refuse
to believe it because it makes us uncomfortable," I said. She turned away.
"That is why I never tried to explain or justify myself. I do care for Heather
even though I knew she and I would never grow old together. I knew I was
just a youthful love for her. I knew she would flit off one day."

"A sixteen-year-old doesn't love," she said.

"Oh yes they do. Certainly not with the depth of a person married for twenty
years. Not with all of the life experience, not deeply like that. But it
is love. It is how she will learn to have that deep and abiding love. I know
I was a step on her path and I am happy I was able to share something beautiful
with her. I know you think I used her, but I tell you truly, I care for her
and would never hurt her or use her."

"Heather would never have done this. You had to trick her," she waited for
my reply. I lowered my face. "Were you her first?" I looked up and then down
again. "I don't believe it. I can see it in your face. How many?' she asked.

"You need to ask Heather those questions," I said. She turned away knowing
the way I said it confirmed it.

"Is that why you said you didn't take her innocence?"

"No, that isn't why," I answered.

She whirled back to face me her hand covering her mouth. Then, "I will never
accept this. I will never believe that Heather submitted herself to this..."
she paused looking for a word.

"What you choose to accept doesn't change what is," I said.

Her face looked as if I had slapped her. She turned and went to the door.
Without looking back she opened it and said, "I am glad you are leaving.
I never want to see you again," and she slammed the door closed behind her.

I was drained and collapsed into a chair. I covered my face with my hands.
Oh Heather.

I was standing in my kitchen wondering if I wanted to make something for
dinner or would just order pizza when the doorbell rang. It was Heather.
She was in my arms before I could say anything. When I managed to extricate
myself I looked at her. She looked happy and I wondered why. "Sweetie, you
know you shouldn't be here."

"It's okay. Mom said I could come over," she told me nearly giddy.

I was dumbstruck. She couldn't be lying, the vibes were all wrong for that
but there was no way the woman I had talked to that very afternoon would
have said it was okay either. Why would she do that? "I need to call her
to make sure," I said.

"You don't trust me?" she asked.

"Heather please. Don't make it about that. It has nothing to do with that.
You know I have to call."

She shrugged but again didn't look worried. What the hell? I dialed and her
mom answered. "It's me," I said.

"I didn't think I'd hear from you again," she said.

"Sorry to bother you. But I have to ask - Why?" I asked.

"Because I couldn't stand her crying and whining anymore. Because she promised
no more crying and that if I let her come over to say goodbye I would never
have to hear your name ever again. That's worth it. So, say goodbye to her
and good riddance. Her curfew is midnight and she better be home, pervert.
Good bye." I heard the phone click in my ear.

"I'll be damned," I said. "Good job Heather."

"Huh?"

"Your mom said it was you crying that made her let you come over," I told
her.

"I don't think it was me," she said. "Mom was really strange when she came
home today. Quiet and kind of thoughtful. She kept asking me how you tricked
me into going to bed and I kept telling her it was my idea. I finally told
her the whole story, you know, how I jumped in your lap and you got all embarrassed.
And how I came over the next Saturday in nothing but the skirt and top and
how I made it ride up until you could see. She got mad for me going out like
that but I don't care. She asked me why and I think she finally got it that
I wanted to. I like you. You made me feel so wonderful. Anyway, Mom went
in the kitchen real quiet. She came out a while later and told me I could
say goodbye to you. I thought she meant like on the phone but she said I
could come over tonight. I was like you, I didn't believe her but she told
me I could. I was out the door before she could change her mind. Sorry I'm
in my jeans. I wish I could have gotten all dressed up for you."

"Heather you look beautiful just the way you are," I said. "There's only
one way you would be more beautiful."

"Oh," she asked coyly. "How's that."

"On my bed with no clothes on," I said.

"I do like to look beautiful for you," she said as she turned and headed
toward my room. At the doorway she pivoted so that her head was the only
thing still showing. "Give me a minute and then come on down big boy." She
winked and disappeared.

I stripped off my clothes energized as I hadn't been since this whole nightmare
started. I followed her into my room. The room was dark except for the light
coming in through the door. She was naked, in the middle of the bed and looking
deliciously sexy. God, is there anything to equal the look of a woman in
heat?

I came to her, pushing her back on the bed and covering her, enveloping her.
I knew this time would be for her - to show her how much she meant to me.
She sensed it and lay back letting me control our lovemaking. We kissed,
languidly at first and then with mounting passion.

The sex was slow and long, this was for her, to show her how much I loved
her. I lost count of her orgasms but they came in clusters until she was
writhing and mumbling under me. I quit holding back and quickly came myself.
I held her until she recovered finally rolling to her side while she curled
up next to me.

"Mike, I never felt anything like that." Her arms went around me, "This isn't
fair. I finally find someone who can make me feel so good and you have to
leave."

"I feel the same sweetheart, exactly the same," I said quietly.

We lay quietly for a while absorbed in the moment. Then Heather asked, "Mike,
where are you moving?"

"Part of your Mother's deal was I couldn't tell you."

"Mike, I learned my lesson. I'll never tell her another thing, no matter
how mad I get," she said. "Please tell me."

"I suspect that is a good lesson with your Mom but don't apply that to everyone.
Not everyone is going to be like her." I paused thinking about outcomes.
"I'm moving to LA but you can't try to see me or even contact me. Your Mom
has me in a tight spot until the Statute runs."

"What statue?" she asked.

"Statute, the law. The Statute of Limitations says you have to prosecute
someone within a time limit of when the crime occurred. So for us it's six
years from when it happened. And California is a real bitch about prosecuting
people. They do it even when both parties and the parents of both parties
don't want it prosecuted. So until then your Mom has me by the you-know-whats,"
I said.

"Jeez, the more I find out about this the more I think people must be crazy
to write laws like that," she said.

"Not crazy, well maybe a little. It's the Aunt Busy Body impulse in America.
For some reason, when it comes to sex there is a strong impulse to make sure
nobody has or enjoys sex. So the laws are written as much as possible to
punish people for having sex. Crazy, but that's the way it is," I said. "Let's
talk about something else."

Heather looked up at me and smiled. "Okay."

"What do you want to do when you finish college?" I asked. That started us
off on a long journey, our hopes and fears and desires. We talked and talked
and hardly noticed the time rolling away.

By eleven we were all talked out. And we were certainly erotically satisfied.
I started to pull away. Heather grabbed me and pulled me to her. "It's time,"
I said.

"No."

I disentangled her arms and stood beside the bed. I put my hand out to her
and said, "I would like it if you would shower with me." That brought a smile
to her face. She took my hand and I pulled her to her feet. We shared a hot
steamy shower. By 11:40 we were dressed. We didn't say anything, I couldn't
and I guess she felt the same. I took her hand and we went out to my car.
In complete silence I drove her home. I had five minutes to spare. I looked
at the house and then at her. Her chin started to quiver, then the tears
started, slowly, quietly. Heather threw her arms around my neck, "I love
you, Mike."

"I love you, Heather," I said holding back my own tears.

Her arms squeezed like she was trying to hang on for life, then she released
me and not looking back threw open the door and ran up the sidewalk. I heard
one sob before she reached the door which opened for her as she ran up. As
she disappeared I saw her mother looking at me. It was a quiet look. She
closed the door and turned out the light. I started the car and drove home
feeling completely alone.

Epilog

LA is an ugly city with no soul. It has a beautiful glittering surface but
there is nothing under that surface. People in LA search for meaning in the
most superficial ways when fulfillment comes from within. They are fame swallowers
who measure their worth by being in the same restaurant as an actor who couldn't
string three meaningful words together without a script. There is no there
- there.

My piano arrived out of tune. It is interesting practicing on an out of tune
piano. New sounds keep appearing in the most unexpected places. When I first
arrived I thought about Heather so much. That last day had me confused. I
wondered if her Mother had a change of heart. I called one night and her
mother answered. Ostensibly I told her I was calling to let her know I was
gone. She was cordial but firm - don't call again, I don't want you talking
to Heather. I volunteered to leave my address hoping she would have it if
she ever did change her mind - she said, no need. I'll never know what caused
the apparent thaw and chill. And the truth is, by the time Heather is eighteen
she will have left that part of her life behind. It would never be rekindled.

In the months I have been writing this I have had time to find a better position.
Seattle looks to be pleasant. I will be moving in a few months and I so look
forward to leaving this smoggy, crowded, ugly place. I will be flying right
over Heather on my way to Seattle. I wonder if she will look up as I go by
and see the plane and wonder if it is me. In a few years she will probably
be in college somewhere and away from her mother. I will be in the phone
book and if she wants to find me there is always the Internet. Or will she
already have forgotten?

I sit in my front room and as I play the piano I remember Heather and how
she could play so effortlessly. I share a passion with her, a passion for
music, which is immortal. And this is the only immortality you and I may
share, my Lolita.


All models 18 years of age or older at the time of production. The original
source of all images certified that the images were exempt and/or fully complied
with US Code Title 18, Section 2257.

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