Martina declares her intentions

Mere seconds later, Martina stood before him in a skimpy white top with narrow straps that barely covered the swell of her breasts. Obviously she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. John got an idea of what kind of arrangement she had in mind while she moved closer to him. He inhaled her warm, floral scent.

She was a little shorter than him. He strained to focus on her gray eyes, but his gaze slid lower and lower. Her lips were slightly parted. Her long curls played around her uncovered shoulders. And a little deeper, her chest rose and fell in the steady rhythm of her breathing.

He felt hot and unconsciously loosened his collar with two fingers. As a professional, he knew he should refuse, that he should ask Martina to cover herself up again and leave. But the man in him thought otherwise.

John's relationship with a musician had petered out years ago because he was always on the road. And at some point it ended without a hitch, without her or him making a drama out of it. Since then, he had neither felt the need nor really had the time to get to know another woman.

But now, with this seductive, lascivious beauty so close, desires that he had thought he had forgotten were awakened. Her blatant offer and the possibilities that arose from it excited him distinctly. He began to feel again that he was a man.

"Well, what do you think, John?" Her voice was a dark murmur that struck a new chord inside him.

"Of course you'll stay concertmaster, I'd never think of anything else."

She smiled contentedly, stood on tiptoe and breathed a kiss on his lips. The tender touch broke the spell. He wrapped his arms around her, pressed her against his body and returned the kiss with passion. His hands stroked her back.

At the same time, her fingers slid over his buttocks and slowly but steadfastly moved forward. When they reached the front of his pants and felt the hard bulge underneath, Martina moaned into the kiss without restrain. She deftly unzipped the zipper and slipped her delicate hand into the opening.

John gasped, went to his knees and inevitably had to remove his mouth from hers.

"Are you sure?" he whispered.

"I've never been surer of anything."

He offered no resistance as she maneuvered him towards the couch next to the wall.