Michaelishious - Vol. 2021

Dec. 4th: Lesson

It was Monday, and as usual it was time for my son's music lesson.

"Hey. How've you been?"

The man asking was his teacher, who was a very talented musician. He played almost every instrument there is, and very well too. Especially the guitar. The first time I heard him play, I was actually close to tears. I don't really know why, but I guess he just triggered something inside me that caught me off guard. I even had to turn away so he couldn't see. Other than that he was just an ordinary man, and definitely not my type. Still, the more time we spent together helping my son improve his skills, the more I found myself thinking about him, even in between the lessons.

"Good, thank you."

The standard answer was as stupid as it gets, but I didn't feel like elaborating. I just gave him a smile and focused on tuning my son's guitar. And after a couple of minutes he gave up on the smalltalk and did what he did best; share his talent.

I sat down in the background and listened to them, and helped where it was needed, which mainly was to make my son concentrate. What surprised me though, was that I kept stealing glances of this fascinating man whenever he wasn't looking.

He always smiled. While he talked. While he showed which strings to play at the correct time, and when he demonstrated it in a way that left me breathless with admiration. There was something about the way he played that made me want to listen to him forever. I wished he never stopped. And it made me want to sing. But since I was pretty shy, it took a while with persuasion before I dared to take the microphone. I expected my son to be embarrassed by it, but he thought it was cool and wanted me to continue.

So I did.

For each time I joined their lessons, I felt more and more comfortable, but I was never confident enough to look at him. He always encouraged everyone even if it sounded pretty bad, so I was afraid he thought I sounded bad too. Though he didn't say anything, it didn't make me feel any better. And I could still feel his eyes on me while I nervously maneuvered myself through the lyrics on my phone.

After several months, I couldn't deny it anymore. I was attracted to him no matter how hard I tried to avoid it. And it didn't help that he genuinely seemed interested in things that weren't about music at all. He even managed to find out about my stories and wanted to read one of them, but of course, I refused. He could never read what was going on in my twisted mind. Therefore I replied honestly.

"You're too much of a nice boy."

"Why do you say that?" he asked and quirked an eyebrow curiously.

"Because you are. You're kind. Loving. Innocent."

He thought about it for a moment while he studied me closely. I felt my heart beat a little harder.

"You say it like it's a bad thing," he said eventually and his voice dropped a bit, which made my body respond immediately.

"It's not. You're just too good to get ruined by someone like me."

Brown eyes that normally were calm, had changed into a darker and more mischievous gaze. A gaze that confused me.

"And if I want that?"

His voice was hushed and deep, as if he stole the words he spoke. I couldn't take my eyes away from him even though his own pierced right through me, and I watched him step closer. He was taller than my husband, and younger. He was the exact same age as me, but I wasn't sure if that was the reason why he turned me on.

But I knew one thing, though.

His hair. Black curls with a hint of grey at his temples, exactly how you'd expect from a proper man his age. It spoke of integrity and strength, maleness and safety, yet he had the spirit of youth that never failed to amaze me. His long, untamed curls were covered by a NYC cap today, and all I wanted was to take it off and comb my fingers through them, while I kissed him like I'd never kissed anyone before. I envisioned how it was to tug at them and mess it up while he ate me out, non-verbally demanding him to continue, and the softness when they were moist from sweat after giving in to our sinful thoughts.