My mother rose from the table and went into the living room. After overcoming no little worry about my mom, I followed her.She removed everything from the keyboard cover and folded it back, exposing yellowed and black faux ivory. Then she lifted the lid on the bench seat and produced an even older looking sheet of music from the bench's contents. I didn't have to look at the sheet to know what it said. I was a kid and peeked into the bench seat regularly. That music was titled, 'The Merry-Widow Waltz'.I didn't know my mother could play the piano. When she began, she was sitting on the bench, posture perfect, striking keys and beating time very much like the score intended. Soft and melodic, her music caught me more than by surprise, it caught me like a mercy trap meant for small animals. I'd walked right into it, and the entrance had shut delicately behind me. For the rest of the morning I listened to my scantily clad mother relearn how to play the piano.Eventually she looked up at. The scream of joy when it came erupted from deep inside of her, and he felt her spasm around his fingers, her juice flowing freely down the inside of her thighs mingling with the shower water and the residue of soap. Picking her up with his hands around her waist he lifted her so that he could enter her as her legs rose to clamp around his hips, her arms twining around his neck, her face burying in his shoulder, her hot breath panting against his damp skin as he thrust hard into her still throbbing cunt. He rode her hard and deep with a desperate pace, frantically as if this would be his last time, his mouth was hard upon hers and his arm tight as if he would never let her go, and when he came his shout was of love, and torn deep from within his soul. * Jerry sat in his car, the mobile phone clamped to his ear, setting up the meeting with Darwin at the flat for late that afternoon. ‘I’ll meet you at the end of the road and show you where the place is…….’ ‘It will be just you and this.
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