Good Vibrations Magazine

Grace knelt in front of him, topless, jeans unbuttoned, unzipped, as James sat on the couch in his basement. Languidly she leaned forward and brushed her tits over his erection. Looking up at him, she lowered her head and touched the tip of his cock with the tip of her tongue. Almost as quickly, she flicked it back into her mouth; James caught his breath, his hard cock throbbing inches from her face.

Gracefully she wrapped her manicured fingers around the base of his cock, lowering her mouth to it again. His head went back as she sucked slowly, fingertips brushing his balls as she sucked him almost lazily, obviously in no hurry for him to get off.

She pulled back. Dropping onto her heels, she scooted several inches away and gave him an innocent smile.

“Play for me,” she said.

Disoriented, James hardly understood what she meant right away. Then his gaze shifted to the array of guitars lined up neatly on their stands behind her. Was she serious? He stared at her. She batted her eyelashes innocently, but he was familiar with the resolute look emanating from those blue irises. With a restrained half-grunt, half-sigh, he pushed himself up from the couch and walked awkwardly, his dick as hard as he could ever remember it being, to the row of guitars. Picking up the black and white Stratocaster, he fastened the strap and
grabbed a pick.

As soon as he was in position, his concentration returned. Even with Grace on the floor half-naked in front of him, the guitar in his hands had the same effect it invariably had on him. Almost to himself, he started picking out a tune. Seconds later he played the opening notes to Clapton’s “Layla,” a song he didn’t cover much live but knew was one of Grace’s favorites. Eyes on the strings, he moved his foot to the distortion pedal, altering the sound in the room as it wailed around them.

She watched him. Wet. It wasn’t that she wanted to stop sucking his cock — on the contrary. It was that she wanted what was in him when he played. She had watched him on the guitar countless times; there was no time that was any less breathtaking than any other. And she wanted that.

Grace’s pussy tingled as she watched the intangible consume him. She lay back on the floor, jeans still undone, no top. As his fingers worked the strings and the piercing chords filled the room, she ran a hand lightly up her stomach to one breast. The other one joined it as she squeezed her tits lightly, bending her denim-clad legs and twisting her hips. The carpet was soft beneath her; she ran the soles of her feet along it, then ran one leg up the other and crossed them, hands still over her breasts. She wanted her jeans off, but she would leave them for now.

She watched as he switched melodies, adjusting the strings and tuning the instrument as she rolled onto her tummy. Her breasts pressed into the soft carpet underneath her as she looked up at him. The notes from the guitar solo she had heard him play dozens of times shot through the room like pinballs, ricocheting and colliding like an aural kaleidoscope at the command of his fingers. She heard the song as it was released into the room, but she knew it all came from something deep in his core that burned through him first. And that’s what she was craving.

He glanced down and met her eyes. Her blond hair fell softly over her shoulders above the expanse of bare skin visible to the top of her jeans. James looked at it, abruptly mesmerized, as his fingers moved over the strings of the guitar in his hands as if on their own. As he ran his eyes over her, he realized vaguely that the amplifier needed to be adjusted. But he had no desire to break the gaze he was holding and move over to it.

Smiling, Grace rolled back over like a cat, exposing her breasts and dropping her head back to the floor. Arching her back, she placed her fingers over her nipples briefly before running her hands down her body.

“Keep playing,” she said softly.

He suddenly realized he had stopped. Gritting his teeth, he reigned his attention back from his throbbing cock and somehow tore his gaze away to go to the amplifier. Adjusting the volume for a moment, he closed his eyes and relaxed into what flowed through him, hearing it externally as it materialized via the Fender in his hands. Reopening his eyes, he turned to Grace on the floor.

Her eyes were closed too now. Her hand had slid down between her legs, and she was massaging herself slowly through her jeans. As he watched, her hand snaked back up her belly and slid beneath the open zipper. Her back arched as James watched her wrist move rhythmically above the denim.

She opened her eyes when he stopped playing. The shiny surface of the guitar was smooth under his hand as he slid it up to grip the neck and lifted the strap over his head. Gently he set the instrument back on its stand, moving slowly to retain control of himself as he handled it. When it was secured, he turned to Grace, lying topless on the floor, one hand down her open jeans.

In an instant he was on top of her. She moaned, partly from surprise and partly from arousal, as he devoured her neck, one hand holding her hair. With his other hand he was already wrestling her jeans down. No panties. Pulling away slightly to yank them the rest of the way down and pull a condom from his pocket, he tossed her jeans aside and lowered himself back on top of her. She gasped as he entered her. Kissing her hard, he grabbed both her hands and pressed them to the carpet above her head. Writhing beneath him, Grace wrapped her legs around him and bucked her hips, making him have to slow his rhythm to keep from coming.

James let go of her hands and held her face as he kissed her gently this time.
She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed with her body, rolling them both over and sitting straight up on him, riding fast as she grabbed her tits again, squeezing them as she bounced on his cock. Gently he pressed his thumb against her clit, and her volume increased.

As she came, she fell forward, bracing herself with her hands on the carpet, tits in his face, her arms eventually giving way as she fell on top of him. He grabbed her hips and fucked her hard, her whimpered moans in his ear as he pumped into her and came himself, adding to her noise in the room that moments before had been consumed by the screaming sound of his guitar.

Grace rolled off of him onto the floor. Blue eyes brimming with the innocence
of water, she looked up at him and smiled.

“Do it again.”