Melody In Minor

"I was wondering if I could listen. Well, watch." A sexy short.

He was sitting at his old, out of tune, Whitney spinet, composing a sonata in D minor. There was a knock on his door. He swore and pounded his palm against the keys. He wrapped his robe around his naked form, crossed the dimly lit flat, and opened the door. The girl standing before him looked vaguely familiar, though he had no idea why, or from where.  "I'm sorry to bother you. I live upstairs..." "Yes?" "I can hear you playing." He glanced at the clock. Nearly 2 a.m. And his window was still open. Not that it was helping. It was still just as miserably hot as it had been at noon. "Sorry," he mumbled. "No, it's fine. I enjoy it, actually. I love it." She smiled and he noticed she was quite pretty. Long blonde hair, big green eyes, in a black tank-top and boxer type shorts. Pajamas he supposed. "You are a composer?" she continued. "Something like that." "You only write in minor keys. At least, that's all I've heard." His lips lifted. "Yes." Major compositions were pompous and hollow, lifeless creations that fell flat to the floor the moment they were played. But minor... A minor melody curled upwards and outwards like wafts of smoke in the air, its scent lingering long after the notes were gone. "It's beautiful. I couldn't sleep and... I was wondering if I could listen. Well, watch." "Why?" She shrugged. "I'm lonely." She gazed at him through silver lashes that reminded him of spider-webs in sunlight. Lonely. It was an emotion he knew well. He stepped back and she entered. He returned to the piano and motioned to the worn, leather recliner in the corner. She fell into it and crossed her legs beneath her. He lifted his eyes to the manuscript paper, his fingers to the keys, and started where one must always start; the beginning. At first he thought he imagined the sound of her breaths coming quick and deep. But then the breaths turned to soft moans. The scent of her sex reached his nostrils. He kept playing, his eyes on the paper. He dared not lift them, nor his fingers from the keys. He played more tenderly, more reverently than ever before, caressing the ivory as a lover does his beloved. With a haunting cry she reached her climax, just as the song reached its own. He lifted his eyes and met hers. Wide green eyes fringed withe spider-webs. She smiled, stood and walked to the door. And just like a melody in minor, her scent lingered long after she was gone.

Author's Note

This was written for my weekly Sexy Flash Fiction Challenge. If you have an offsite blog (or even if you don't,) please consider participating in the challenge!! :)
http://www.athenamarie.net/p/the-sexy-flash-fiction-challenge.html

Reviews

[Rojas]

What an encounter. Dirty, yet so sweet. I felt like not a word was wasted. Keeping his perspective only was interesting, but we might have heard how it impacted him a bit.
I loved that she was clearly well educated.
Well crafted.

[Roberta Emmanuelle Leig..]

Far too short. You were just coaxing my little friend out from her hiding place when it finished. I like your style, though. Looking forward to reading more. :)