I always wanted to take it home with me. That day was a great day. My choir teacher left early to go on a field trip with her son. She left the class in our accompanist’s more than capable hands. What fine hands they were too; large and strong. Mr. Tait was a big man, standing at six foot four inches. As he told me once, he was the “runt” of the family. He had dark, curly hair that he kept at his eyes. How I always wanted to play with those curls as I stood singing my high soprano notes, flirting with my eyes, making him blush. I loved looking deep into his chocolate brown eyes during conversation, trying to captivate him with my large green eyes. Mr. Tait wasn’t married, nor did he have a girlfriend. He played every kind of music, though he was amazing with jazz. That day, after going through all the sections, he let as relax as he always did. He stood up and I walked down to him, leaning against the piano. “Well that was pure torture, don’t you think?” He asked me. “Ah, are you. I smiled back as I caressed her back and side, and she pulled my mouth back to hers to resume our kissing.I know I hadn't thought about it. I had no plan, but somehow as I was running my hand up and down her side it found its way back to the edge of her breast. She didn't react or stop kissing me, and I got bolder. Now that I was aware of what my hand was doing, I slid it a little more over her breast until I was actually holding it through her shirt and bra. It felt heavenly! The size was a perfect fit to my palm. It was firm and warm, and it was Jenny. I was stunned when she moaned into my mouth as I began gently massaging her. She wasn't complaining; in fact she seemed to be enjoying it. I could feel her hard little nipple poking up through the thin fabric of her bra and shirt, so I moved my palm over it in little circles. I shifted my hand to the closer breast and did the same to it, then went back to the first one, again giving a gentle caress, a little rub, a little squeeze,.
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