Play Me Some Piano

Play me some piano

What do people usually like about autumn? Sunny warm days of the Indian summer, the riot of colors, the abundant treasures of golden yellow, red, green and all the possible shades of those. The thick leaves carpets on the ground. The trees in the most magnificent glorious moment of their lives. Like the most chic party nature could possibly throw to mark the end of the season and the long, long winter break.

However, Ksenia was never much of a party person. She knew many felt a bit down when a party ended, but it was actually her favorite time. It's all over, all the excessive noise, laughter, music, emotions, show of fun on display. And one can finally hear one's thoughts again.

Wasn't it just the way November felt? As if it was the end of the party. Only a few leaves left, the sunny days are mostly over, it is gloomy, gray, windy, rainy at times. Still, was not the delicate pattern of the branches against that cloudy sky worth all of it? The pattern usually hidden with all the pompous leaves and colors was now open to everyone who took time and effort to see it, find some.. what do they call it? "unconventional"? yes, unconventional beauty which will remain there when everything else is gone.

Ksenia smiled and finally took her eyes off that enchanting picture, made one last sip of her mulled wine, threw the paper glass into the trash and looked around. Now, to make this day perfect, she had to find herself some flowers. Large chrysanthemums. White, if she gets lucky. But if not, the yellow will be fine, too.

She walked slowly along the embankment, looking around, when she saw them. Large white and yellow balls on the dark green stems. Ksenia stopped and picked six white flowers. Hesitated for a moment and asked to add one more, the yellow one. Well, now it gave that perfect imperfection to the bouquet. A splash of the color on the white canvas.

She lowered her head to smell their slight and tender fragrance when she heard something. A piano... She walked slowly towards the sound till she got to that spot by the bridge. The season for street fun was almost over and there were not many people who stopped to listen, so she just stayed there, on the right, watching the musician playing.

Max actually hoped there won't be many people in the streets that day. He just wanted to try out his latest composition, check how it sounds in the open. He has been sitting on it for too long and was not sure anymore if it really was as good as it seemed to him.

He loved to express his feelings through music. It never failed him, unlike the words. Now, this melody was quite complicated. The autumn was usually the most complex in regards to the emotions it stirred up: some blues and sadness, some loneliness and sweet melancholy, some coziness, the deep joy of feeling all those, the ray of light on the gray sky.

He lifted his eyes from the keys and that ray of light he was just thinking about, was right in front of him. The yellow flower on the white and black background. Only several moments later he realized that the white were actually flowers, too, and the black was the coat of a girl, standing there among few other strangers. He smiled at her and continued to play, and every time he raised his eyes from the keyboard, he hoped she was still there, holding that splash of sun in her hands.

She felt that the strings of the piano ran right inside her veins, and those little hammers producing sounds were hitting her heart. Her fingers unconsciously moved on the flower stems following the rhythm. She noticed all the glances from the guy playing. Of course, she did. But somehow they felt natural and not surprising. As if there were just the two of them and as if they knew each other so well that the words were unnecessary.

She followed one of his glances to that yellow chrysanthemum and smiled. When the melody was about to fade away, Ksenia stepped closer to the piano, took out that bright flower from her bouquet and left it on the black shiny surface of the instrument. With these final accords, the guy was all focused on the keys, so concentrated, so into the moment. She looked at him just once more, to engrave that whole picture in her mind, and left.

She continued her way along the river, absorbing everything she heard and saw on her way. She remembered a moment from years ago, when she was still in college, curious and passionate about everything, including psychology.

It brought her to that funny group of like-minded folks, led by some "therapist". He taught them basic exercises, techniques and tests. Frankly speaking, he was quite weird (well, perhaps, that comes with a profession, you know) and some of the things he talked with them about were rather questionable. But it was a great platform for introverts, like herself, to talk at least a little about their emotions, to learn to pay attention to them, to define them.. to steam out, even if just a bit.

And there was that moment that stuck in her head. The one when their facilitator shared about the way he enjoyed the world around him. He said that when he was walking around, watching nature, absorbing it, he got filled with the feeling of happiness so intense that it almost made him orgasm. Now, the orgasm part was not very appropriate, but it impressed her for sure.

Years passed, and now Ksenia knew what he meant. What he was talking about. The feeling of enjoying the moment so much that your heart was overflowing. It was the intensity of the feeling that he compared to the orgasm, having no better way to phrase it. And, perhaps, wanting to shock his audience a little.

Ksenya smiled at that thought. She was crossing the bridge again and decided to spend several more minutes watching the river. She leaned on the rail of the bridge and watched the flow running below.

When Max finished his composition and raised his eyes the next time, his heart sank. That spot where the girl stand, was empty now. He ran his eyes around, hoping she just stepped aside, but no, he could not see her anywhere.

Then his eyes spotted the flower on the piano. He raised and picked it, then looked around again. It seemed to him he noticed her coat up ahead at the distance and he hurried that way, rushing through the street, now more crowded. How come that the streets are empty when you are not in a hurry, but get crowded any time you really need to rush? One of the secrets of the Universe, he believed.

He finally saw the girl clearly. She was crossing the bridge, but stopped half-way through it, and was just standing there, so deep in her thoughts she was not even looking around. Now that he had the chance to have a better look at her, he noticed her rich red hair, wavy, running down to her shoulders. Her feminine frame, curvy in all the right places. Her fair milky skin. He wondered what color her eyes were. Blue? Green? Aren't those the typical colors for the red heads? He stepped closer and touched her shoulder gently.

- Hey...

The girl shuddered in surprise and turned around. Her eyes looked right into his. They were gray. Just like the November sky. Max nodded to her bouquet and brought up his flower:

- I am sorry, I did not want to scare you.. I just think these belong together... I am Max, by the way.

The girl smiled and took the flower from him, rearranging her bouquet the way it used to be.

- My name is Ksenia. Nice to meet you, Max.

She was still finishing her sentence when the first drops of rain fell. They looked up at the sky at the same time. It was all covered with clouds now, and the ones on the horizon were so sick and dark that it only meant that the rain won't stop any time soon, and perhaps, will be pouring.

- Umm... I guess we better hide somewhere if we don't want to get soaking wet and get the flowers ruined.. Do you mind having a cup of coffee with me? There is this nice place right over there.

Max pointed to the coffee house across the bridge. Ksenia nodded, he took her hand and they almost ran through the intensifying rain.

The cafe was cozy and filled with mindblowing aroma of coffee and pastry, and the waitress brought a vase for the flowers. Max and Ksenia lost count of the time, sitting by the window, sipping coffee, enjoying cinnabons, those autumn must-haves. They talked, and laughed, both getting enchanted by the magic of the moment, by each other, by the Universe bringing them together in such a peculiar way. At some point his hand covered hers, laying on the table, and he never took it away the whole time they stayed there. Slowly rubbing her soft skin, their fingers intertwined, like they were speaking their own language, the one their bodies knew so well.

Of course, he was walking her home when the rain stopped. Of course, he was dying to kiss her. Those lips beckoned him the whole evening. And, of course, he did not make that move so as not to scare her off.

They met again. And again. And again. He watched the fog embracing her when they walked through the night park, and he held her hand so tight as if he was afraid she would dissolve in it. They stopped by the lightstand and he could not take his eyes from her, the whole scene was like that from a mystery movie: the fog, the dimmed light, her shining eyes, her full lips.. Suddenly, everything else dimmed, and he could only see her lips, moving softly as she spoke, and her smooth skin, wet from the drops of the fog.

He could not wait any longer.. He leaned to her, his lips paused barely touching hers, making the tension between them almost unbearable.. His hand was still holding hers, squeezing it so hard now it almost got painful. His other hand slid up, cupping her cheek, then burying his fingers in her silky hair, and he finally brushed gently along her lips.

The slightest touch made his heart race. Her lips trembled and opened, embracing his. He ran the tip of his tongue along her upper lip, touching the inner side, tasting her for the first time. Another moment of enjoying her lips before deepening the kiss and getting lost in that dance of the tongues. How long did that kiss last? A moment? An eternity? It felt like both.

When they finally broke the kiss and opened their eyes, he smiled at her and whispered:

- Can I play you some piano?

Ksenia bit her lip and smiled, nodding:

- I can't wait to listen to it.

The door of his apartment clicked close behind her back, and that very second Max's lips found hers again, melting together as they were getting rid of their coats, boots, leaving a trail of cloth on the floor on the way to his bedroom.

It felt like a fever, a rush.. the fingers were trembling while exploring every spot, every millimeter of each other. The skin was burning with every touch, every kiss... his digits were tracing her like the instrument, producing the melody of moans, the crescendo of passionate desire...

When he covered her body with his, her arms behind her head, their fingers intertwined, their eyes locked, their moans in sync, the whole world paused the moment he slid into her, in that sacred unity. The music of his thrusts, her moans, the sloppy accompaniment of their bodies clashing together, reaching the peak, the edge, and, finally, the last gasp and whisper of climax. Heavy breathing and soft laughters as the closing ovation... and finally, the dozing off...

Ksenia opened her eyes to the soft sounds of the piano. The closed door of the bedroom silenced it a bit, but not enough not to be heard. She hopped off the bed, wrapped in the blanket and walked to the sounds.

Max was sitting at the piano, the towel around his hips, some sheets with notes all around him, the pencil behind his ear. He played some accords, made some notes, then played again. Ksenia watched him for a while, then stepped closer. He raised his head and smiled at her.

- Come here...

She came up and sat in his lap, looking at the sheets with the notes curiously.

- You know, music has always been my language.. and now it is my love language, I guess.

He smiled and kissed her bare shoulder.

- Every time I feel something deep, I transfer it into songs or melodies. And tonight.. Tonight the emotions were so deep and overwhelming, that it will require time to process and compile them together.. But I am sure, it will be my best creation so far...

- I am sure that each next melody you create will be better than the previous one. Your talent is endless as space"

Ksenia smiled and kissed the tip of his nose. Max leaned to her lips and licked them.

- Mmmmm... I want to show you something.. But first, get rid of that blanket, you won't get cold.

She blushed and stood up, letting her cover slide down to the floor while her eyes were on his the whole time. He unwrapped his towel and it followed to the floor, right on top of the blanket.

- Now, come back here.

She took her place in his lap again, looking curiously.

- Turn to the keyboard.

He whispered, his lips brushing on her ear, tickling her with his warm breath.

- Place your hands on the keys...

Max continued, his voice getting slightly hoarse. Ksenia did as he said, her fingers just slightly touching the keys.

- What, you want me to play? But I can't...

She smiled, turning her face to him.

- No, I want you to feel... Now, close your eyes.. Let your fingertips see it for you.

Ksenia smiled and whispered:

- Okay, boss.

She closed her eyes and let her other senses be her channels. She felt the cold smooth surface of the keys. So smooth that the fingers were literally sliding along them. And at that moment she felt Max's fingers run up her belly.

- Your skin is as smooth as those keys.. your body is my keyboard.. Now, slide a little forward...

Her fingertips ran along the smooth surface. His digits ran along her breast.

- That small black key is popping out the key board just like your nipple does on your orb.

Max kept whispering, as their moves mirrored each other.

- Now, touch it.. Press it. Play with it.

His own fingers were catching her nipple, playing with it the same way she played the piano. Rubbing. Squeezing. Teasing. Their breaths are getting heavier. Skin covered with goosebumps.

Ksenia pressed the key more and it produced a loud sound. Max cupped her breast and squeezed it, making the girl grasp loudly.

- Now.. move your foot.. find that pedal... good.. place your foot on it.

His other hand slid down as he placed his fingertips over her clit.

- Don't press it for now.. let it just stay there.. and keep playing the keys.

His own fingers were resting over her clit. She could not believe the feeling was so teasing. She struggled not to push the pedal, not to move her hips to grind against his hand. But she kept just touching the keys, white and black, again and again. Sliding, pressing, from one to another, and back again.

And Max.. He was playing with her breast with his free hand. Whispering in her ear, kissing it, nibbling on her neck. She felt his manhood was hardening and growing against her thigh, making her tremble deep down.

- Now, the pedal.

He whispered, pressing his digits into her clit. Her foot hit the pedal. The moan as deep as the piano sound escaped her lips.

- Keep going...

And they both did. The fingers flying along the keys and body, creating a symphony of passion. Surrendering to the desire.

- You know, the piano never made my fingers so soaked.

Max grinned and suddenly picked Ksenia up and laid her on the piano. "

- And I never used it this way before.

Ksenia spread her arms, holding onto the edges, and closed her eyes, biting her lips, arching her back. He pulled her closer and pushed in.

Since that night "Play me some piano" became their code phrase. A message, a note, a whisper.. Every time it made them smile, sent shivers down their spines in anticipation.

The best 3 months they could possibly imagine, filled with love, laughter, sex, cozy cuddling, endless talks, sex, coffee, apple pies, apple cider, sex, meeting friends, spending holidays, exchanging gifts, sex, books, movies, walks, winter fun, sex, and, of course, music. In everything they did.

One day in late January Ksenia told Max she needed to visit her family for a couple of weeks. A usual, routine thing, right? Of course, she should go. Just several hours by plane, and she is in her home country. The trip was planned, tickets booked, and she left. It was on February, 10. She was supposed to be back in just two weeks. Nothing to worry about, right?

Except that the year was 2022 and the country was Ukraine.

Max had no idea how he survived those days since February, 24. Horrible days, filled with watching the news non-stop and the deafening silence of his phone. No message from her, no phone call. He lost count of all the attempts to reach her. The phone dead. Nothing. Just silence.

Days. Weeks. He cancelled all his performances, concerts.. It was unimaginable to play now... For the first time in his life he could not even write the music.. Could not transfer his emotions into notes..

One evening in early March he was sitting in the cafe next door to his house, ordering her favorite coffee, staring in the cup. His phone beeped. He looked at the screen.

The guy at the next table looked up from his plate in surprise when Max grasped, hopped from the chair, ignoring that it fell on the floor. He looked through the window, and ran out so fast he forgot his phone. The message was still open on the screen.

"Play me some piano".