Piano Lessons - How It Began - Sex Stories

Piano Lessons - How It Began

... it can be rather dull. Especially a little station like ours. “I can't believe how quiet it is for a Friday,” Amber, who works part-time complains. “It is rather slow, isn't it? I may head out early. I have lots to do this afternoon. I'm sure Bob won't mind. He does it all the time, doesn't he?” I half joke. The boss, who we rarely ever see, is always showing up late or leaving early. We don't dislike him, hard to dislike a man we don’t see much. But, he keeps us running enough we don't get shut down. “Nah, besides I'll cover you,” She smiles warmly at me. “I have nothing better to do. Not until later tonight. So, if you want to head out at lunch, that's no problem by me.” “Are you sure? That is awfully nice of you. Thanks.” She agrees, telling me it's fine. So, I make sure to do as much as I can before leaving. I even offer to give her my packed lunch, since she forgot hers. Promising to bring her a coffee from the coffee shop on Monday. She is giddy about this news. I thank her once more, before heading off. Now, I live in a somewhat small town, where there is only a little grocery store. Sure, if you want, you can drive the extra two miles out of town, to go to the WalMart, but I try to get as much as I can locally. Pulling into the parking lot, it's fairly busy, but find a spot rather easily. Once in the store, I end up filling my cart with other things other just things to make cupcakes. Getting things I know we need, but have been slacking on getting. I take my time, ...

... knowing I have it to spare, now that I'm three hours ahead of schedule. Not many people enjoy the experience of going food shopping, but I take it as a little vacation from my every day life. It was something I did more when I was married and needed the excuse, now I just do because I can. “Did you find everything you needed, ma'am?” Crystal, the cashier, asks me. “You've known me all your life. I've told you many times you don't need to call me ma'am, Crystal. I gave you piano lessons,” I tease her, as I put my groceries on the conveyor belt. “Can't help it, ma'am. My mother raised me right. And you were always the best music teacher. I still play.” “With those hands, I can see how you'd be able to be a great teacher,” the sound of a low, slightly gruff sounding man from behind me causes me to turn and look at him. I have to tilt my head up a little higher than I thought I'd need. The man has to stand well over six feet tall. His dusty brown hair hangs around his eyes, but I can tell they are dark, like melted chocolate, swimming in milk. They are hypnotizing. His facial hair looks more like a week without shaving, my favorite look on a man. Though he was incredibly young looking. “That's what my dad used to tell me, when I was learning to play when I was young,” I reply to him. As I put the last item on the belt, before adding the section bar, so he can put his items on behind mine. “Are you still teaching? I'm new to the area, but I used to play when I was younger. I'd love ...