Erotica, Series
The Leatherbound Diaries, Part 22
A Minimal Piece of Masturbation: Cathy is lured into touching herself while Katherina plays a piano piece.
Previously: Cathy is invited by Daria, her friend with benefits, for a two-week-holiday to a grand villa in Italy. Five other women, two couples and a single young woman, join them. The latter, Beate, spends a noisy, orgasmic night with Cathy and Daria.
I come back from getting groceries, and the villa is deserted. The others have probably gone for a walk or something, which is fine by me because I can prepare the dinner I promised to make, undisturbed. The lovely smell coming from the fresh vegetables I bought at the market in the village soothes me. I found a recipe in a cookbook from the villa’s collection and I’m eager to immerse myself in the process.
It’s always great to feel the textures of ingredients, to smell and taste the changes in aroma and flavour provoked by my cooking. The draining effect of salt on the moist flesh of aubergines. How grilling tomatoes brings out their sweetness, the burned skin bursting to expose the juicy fruit. Carving meat and feeling the resistance to the knife, nevertheless, the flesh smoothly gives way. To put both of my hands in a bowl filled with the mushy mixture of flour, water and egg, the yolk oozing through my fingers. Kneading it until its stickiness dissolves and the dough transforms into a soft ball that I slam on the surface of the table, particles of flour whirling in the air.
I’m cutting shallots, their prickly sap teasing my eyes and I hear the piano in the living room. At first, just a few random notes, then a chord that reverberates through the hallway to the kitchen. And another chord. A melody starts, the notes hit my core, and I am lured to the living room as if by magic.
Katherina’s long, tawny hair hovers like a curtain above the piano keys, hiding her face. Her slim fingers move effortlessly from one note to the other. I lean against the doorpost and watch her play. She’s unaware of my presence. Tears well up in my eyes and one meanders down my cheek. It’s not the effect of allium, because as the melody evolves, it overwhelms me and I’m rooted to the spot. My breathing quickens and I cannot stop the tears from flowing. The notes and chords hit me so hard my legs hardly keep me upright, so I hold on to the doorpost. I feel the need to run, but I can’t. There’s a slight pause in the music, a window allowing me to escape this startling devastation, but all I do is sigh deeply.
Katherina turns her head and at first, she’s surprised to see me, but she quickly notices my wet and obviously distressed face. She asks what has happened and I mumble ‘your music’. She frowns, confused, but beckons me over. It’s a relief to move my legs and when Katherina pats on the piano stool, I sit down next to her.
‘You like it?’ she asks with a smile and I nod. ‘I’ll start again, I’m actually rehearsing.’
As she plays, I’m again hit in the chest by the minimal melody. The tears are back, especially when the repetitive flow of the music evolves into the most beautiful combination of notes I have ever heard. My snivelling makes Katherina glance at me and, although she’s puzzled by my emotions, she continues to play. I stare at her fingers summoning this extraordinary response in my body. I have no thoughts on why these notes move me so, no pictures or memories come to mind. It’s the music itself, airy like a thin layer of ice on a small pond on an early winter morning, still vulnerable, easily breakable, but crispy and tingling: the secret skating ring of elves, I used to fantasise as a child.
The piece continues and although it’s repetitive like all minimal music, its melody keeps developing and a new sensation builds in my body. My nipples erect as if a breeze tickles them and I become aware of their touch against the cotton of my shirt. My senses awaken — or I am getting more conscious of their signals — and I breathe in Katherina’s fragrance. It’s a mixture of a flowery perfume and suntanned skin. Our legs touch every so often as she sways to the music and operates the pedals of the piano. Inadvertently, I bite my lip because tingles are nestling in my crotch and the need to touch myself is inescapable.
Her concentration absorbs Katherina and her head hangs low, her long hair a curtain again. I notice she’s closed her eyes and my excitement grows with the thought of sliding a hand between my legs to ease the desire that is already dampening my knickers.
The music is so light now, its rhythm perfect for what I long for. Katherina’s fragrance is becoming intoxicating, and as I glance at her, her bulbous nose looks so adorable that I wish it was pressed against my clit while she licks my folds.
Yes, now my hand is where it should be and yes, the fabric of my thong is wet. I ignore the thought that the smell of my sex might disturb Katherina and I press two fingers against my clit, following the music’s rhythm to further entice it. Both of us have our eyes closed and we sway in unison on the small stool. Katherina hits chords of a lower octave, increasing the volume too. I feel how her left hand bangs the keys. The music is heavier and I can feel the vibrations of the snares being hit by the hammers Katherina controls. My chest heaves and it’s like the resonance of the piano plays with my nipples. I follow the music and increase the pressure on my clit. Like Katherina’s my fingers control the vibrations, but of my body. The low notes dissolve and higher ones rebuild the melody. The airy lightness of it opens up a space in my mind where I freely roam towards a climax. When the orgasm hits me, it’s not earth-shattering or heavenly bliss. Intensely, it flows through me together with the music touching my heart. With my sticky fingers, I wipe away another tear and I find the odour of my cum poignant.
Katherina is still immersed in her music, which is becoming more and more subdued. Her touch on the keys is even lighter as she bends down further over the keyboard. Her fingers dance carefully on the ivory as she concentrates on what sounds like the conclusion of the piece. But it ends unexpectedly, as if the last chord was never meant to be. I hold my breath as Katherina stays motionless while the last note dwindles in the room. When it is completely dissolved and we can hear only the rustling of the Tuscan Cypresses in the breeze outside, does she sit up. I take a deep breath and sigh. We sit in silence for a while.
She turns to me and looks me intently in the eyes. ‘Else thinks you’re a very strange girl.’
I say nothing.
‘But I’d say you are highly responsive. Sensitive.’ She smiles and there is care in her eyes.
I ask her to wait and run upstairs to get my Leica. When I return, I notice she’s got a hand locked between her legs. Her eyes are sultry and I tell her not to move. The afternoon light floods through the windows and she’s half lit and half in the shadows. Her long straight hair frames her face.
‘Are you horny?’ I ask, and a cheeky smile appears as I point my camera at her. I push the release button and know the moment was perfect. I take a few more pictures but this was the one.
‘Show me,’ she says and I explain she can’t see the photos because it’s an old analogue camera.
‘But you were perfect,’ I assure her. ‘Very beautiful.’
She laughs and opens her legs. I’m sitting on my knees on the floor and look right at her snatch. A wet spot has soiled her knickers and I look up, waiting for her intentions to become clear.
‘Do you smell me, like I smelled you?’ she says.
I move between her legs; my cheeks brush her inner thighs, my nose is close to her wet cunt. ‘Yes.’
‘Is it appealing?’
‘Yes.’
She closes her legs again and I move away, puzzled.
‘Come to our bedroom tonight.’
Now I’m really confused. Katherina’s wife Else dislikes me I feel, and she’s said I’m a strange girl, but now I’m invited into their marital bed?
‘Else scares me,’ I say honestly.
Katherina laughs. ‘It’s up to you.’ She stands and kisses me on the cheek. ‘I’m going for a swim; I need to cool off.’
I return to the kitchen. As I’m preparing dinner, I hear Katherina greeting the other women returning to the villa and shortly after several splashes in the pool. Beate comes into the kitchen and she happily kisses me. I pinch her bum and tell her to get the wine for the aperitive. I feel strange and it occurs to me I’d like to call Alexander to tell him what has happened. I quickly shake the thought off. Daria enters and looks at me warily.
‘You alright?’
I nod and concentrate on slicing the pancetta.
She embraces me from behind and presses her face against my back. ‘I’m falling in love with you,’ she whispers.
I cut my finger and watch the blood oozing out on the wooden cutting board.
To be continued…
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