salacious acts. | alex turner one shots.

1. whimpering crescendo.

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whimpering
/ˈwɪmpərɪŋ/
adjective
1. to make a low whining plaintive or broken sound.
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crescendo
/krɪˈʃɛndəʊ/
adverb
1. with a gradual increase in loudness.
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thursday night, alex's house

me and al got back to his place after a gig that miles invited us along to. it was a great time with great music and spectacular drinks. i could taste the lingering alcohol on my tongue as i poured myself a glass of water in al's kitchen, i felt all warm inside. the plan was for miles and the others to arrive a bit later as they had a business 'party' to attend.

i gulped down the ice-cold water and the sound of a high key from a piano alarmed me. i placed down the expensive glass and took a few steps forward to peak my head around the wall separating the kitchen from the living space. there alex was sat in all his glory at the steinway & sons piano: that one brunette lock resting upon his forehead, his eyes of umber intently focusing on the monochrome keys, his sizeable hands tenderly dancing across the instrument, a sight for sore eyes.
and whilst painting a beautiful picture he coalesced heavenly notes and chords from the piano into my ears, that cool glass of water was soon warmed up.

the truth is i've never been able to see alex as a friend. the way his mind operates, the way he sings, the way he does just about anything is too pleasing for me. i have been friends with al since i met him through mutual friends some time ago. we are pretty close but i've never allowed it to become a close friendship because i am far too attracted to him. lately this urge to just say or do something innapropriate has spiralled out of control. i want him bad.

i sauntered over gradually to the sightly scene before me in my garnet stilettos and rested my bare arm upon the piano. alex played a final note and lingeringly glanced up at me, making direct contact with my eyes.

"'ello there.." he uttered mellowly, making me melt on the spot.

"hello." i declared with all the confidence i could muster.

"ye look phenomenal, ye know that?" he asserted and the corners of his mouth curved up as he plainly observed every inch of my body.

"play me something turner." i challenged him and lifted myself on the top of the piano, my lustrous legs hanging just above the piano keys.

"i know just the tune." he claimed and ran his fingers through his chocolate locks, that one loose strand now interlaced with the rest.

he began to play a beautiful tune, it was unfamiliar and it sounded very alex-esque; i was lost for words when he began to sing. he elicited the most beguiling baritone voice and wrapped inside it lied luscious words of poetry. i sat comfortably and admired him, his eyes closed and his body simultaneously swayed with the music he produced.

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"what did ye fink?" he insisted as he took his hands off of the keys and placed them in his lap. lord how i wished they were in mine.

"the most beautiful thing i've heard." i meant it when i said it. i was completely blown away, i'm a sucker for anything he writes or sings.

"i'm glad ye liked it." he responded with a sunny smile.

he found my eyes again and we just couldn't divert our attention away from each other. he steadily moved across the bench so that he was directly in front of me and placed his right hand on my left leg. i felt the excitement tingle through me when i felt the contact of his temperate skin on mine. his hand began to caress my leg gently and it eventually made it's way up to my thigh, giving me immediate goosebumps. i thoroughly sunk into the feeling of now both of his hands delicately stroking my legs, i let out a small hum of pleasure and he promptly stopped.