Page 58 of Synced to Us

I turn my head toward the part of her I can see.

“It relaxes you, doesn’t it? Show me more of your music.”

I find her hands across my chest and tangle my fingers with hers. After a moment, I answer, “Okay.”

She sits back as I rise. The keyboard calls to me in its blanket of darkness, the small window above it causing the keys to glow with tantalizing allure.

My fingers itch before I reach the stool.

I sit. And I play, the music pouring out of a secret spot deep in my chest and waking to the sound. The room brightens through my notes alone, then dips back into shadows when I reach the desolate chorus. But I quickly ascend out of it, preferring the beauty, the pop and chaos of a woman like Dee who perches behind me, listening to my preferred language.

I’m so immersed in my music, the weight on my shoulders doesn’t register at first. When her fingers start massaging, when Dee steps into my vision and I realize she’s naked…

The keys clash under my flattened, stiff fingers.

She swings her leg over me until she rests on my lap, idly stripping off my shirt, easily undoing my pants.

Dee coaxes my dick out. I’m hard as hell by the time it hits air, and she strokes it with such tight perfection, a groan escapes through my teeth.

She leans forward, her pussy excruciatingly close to my tip, and whispers, “Fuck me while you play.”

Lust rockets through me with the speed of a nitro-fueled car.

“That’s so…” I say in between kisses, “…hot.”

Her lips curve against mine. “I know. So do it, big boy.”

“But…I don’t think—the condoms in this room are from like 2005.”

Dee creates enough space between our mouths to murmur, “I have an IUD. And I’m clean. You?”

“Yeah.”

Satisfied, Dee slides over my dick, takes me all the way in, and starts rocking.

Her moans tickle my ear, inspiring my body to jerk like a girl is touching my virgin body, but with her wet, hot, tight heat, her circling hips, and the thought of her coming all over me again…

I try to put it into music. I try to put it into music. I’m so impressed with my efforts as my fingers dart across the keys and actual music notes sound out as she moves slowly on my dick, her breasts rubbing against my chest, her nipples hard peaks that make the friction all the more exquisite.

She wraps her fingers around the back of my neck, her pumps growing faster, her breaths desperate.

Garbled sounds emit from a squished keyboard.

Fuck the music.

I hang onto her hips and fly.

21

Dee

Pinks and burnt oranges cast Wyn’s bare chest in a pretty dawn glow as I roll onto my back and straighten my limbs, conscious of the creaky mattress, but too in need of a good cat-stretch to care.

My muscles and joints wince in protest, but it’s a sweet kind of pain, the type of soreness one gets from great sex.

Morning has come too soon and I sit up, pushing my hair out of my face in order to get another good look at Wyn.

He’s lights out, emitting soft snores and his face relaxed. I’m tempted to stroke his hair off his forehead, but I resist, allowing him a few more moments of slumber before he wakes to another frustrating day.

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