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He enjoyed the shiver caressing her skin as his stroking fingers first nudged one, and then the other, thin strap over her shoulder. The swish of the light material added its own notes to the sonatas with its play of dissonance as it stroked over her sensitised nipples and tore a moan from her mouth. For a moment he hovered, taking in the utter beauty of her long lines and soft tones. She was a magnificent epos to humanity in form and nature. The need to devour, to hold, to take rose in him. This was far removed from the gentle, sophisticated seduction of Rachmaninoff. With the notes of Orff rose the need to possess, the passionate desire to claim her body and soul. It was not enough anymore to satisfy the physical need, he wanted to see her taken away by her own pleasure, wanted to own that moment of absolute abandon - wanted her to gift him with it. With the strength of the almost visceral chorus of Carmina Burana he lifted her in his arms, bedded her on the satin sheets, covered. After 18 long years of school and living with your parents, the freedom of having your own place is a breath of fresh air. A small breath. Your apartment isn't that big after all. The main room when you first walk in isn't anything special, it's got a couch facing a medium sized flat screen and is connected to your kitchen. The kitchen is also nothing special, although it does have a bar tabletop which you like.You walk down the short hallway off of the main room into your bedroom before taking off your shoes. You haven't even slept in your room yet and your looking forward to it after getting done with your first day of classes. The university that you go to is a moderate size with about 20,000 students. You haven't yet decided what you're going to major in so you are just working on your gen eds at the moment. One of your new friends from your history class asked if you wanted to go out to a party later but you still hadn't quite gotten adjusted to living on your own and you also.
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‘Well, now, we get some food, and I stay here.’ ‘Is that so!’ I said, raising my eyebrows at him. ‘Oh yes. I’m still not done with you, but we do need something to eat! I’m not letting you away from me this time!’ He smiled, and I lay contentedly in his arms, until I fell asleep. When I woke up, Peter had undone the handcuffs, leaving them on top of the bedside table, but he was nowhere to be seen. I pulled on his shirt, which was lying on the floor, and walked into the kitchen. Peter was standing at the hob with just his boxers on, a pan in his hands. ‘Morning!’ he said, smiling at me. ‘That shirt looks familiar!’ I smiled back sleepily. ‘Pancakes?’ he offered. ‘Mmm, sounds good. There’s chocolate sauce in the cupboard.’ As we ate, I looked at him, another days worth of stubble developing on his chin. His deep brown eyes shamelessly looked at my breasts, just visible through his shirt. Whatever worries I had about getting into trouble for being with me, evaporated. I knew it.

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