The Guitar Lesson

“Geez,” I said, “this is your first lesson, for God’s sake!”
Something happened at that moment. You might say that we had a certain connection, or that we recognized a common understanding of each other, or whatever. All I knew was that I instantly felt comfortable with this woman. For the next two hours, I tried to show her the basics of tuning, strumming, and the finger positions of the four or five basic chords. I would play a part of a popular song, at the same time singing it softly, and she would look at me with those large brown eyes, mouthing the words along with me, too shy to sing aloud. She seemed to have a certain affinity for music, and picked things up quickly. I really enjoyed myself, and I found myself ‘showing off’ to her all of the songs that I knew. In between songs she would talk about the artists that she admired and the concerts that she had been to. I found myself talking about my life in the music business, and the famous people that I had met. We laughed often; I was very pleased to find that she had a very sharp sense of humor. It wasn’t long before we were gazing into each other’s eyes like old friends. Eventually, I looked at my watch, and realized that my time had been up over an hour ago!
“Ok. I have to go now, Renee. Same time next week?”
“Oh yes!” She said in a cheerful voice.
“Don’t forget the tuning, and the three songs I showed you! I’ll have you ‘in concert” somewhere before you know it!”
As she laughed and smiled, I came to the realization that I felt a bit flushed. I was aroused! 
I gathered my things, and she escorted me out. On the way home, I thought of her smile, her soft skin, her scent, and the soft, smooth curves of her body. I started to conjure a fantasy in my head. As I drove, I reached down and slowly caressed my stirring cock through my jeans as I thought of her warm body against mine. 
That night, as I lie in bed, I found myself thinking of her again, and getting very aroused. I slowly stroked my hard cock, envisioning her soft, pliable lips pursed over the head of it. It wasn’t long before I felt the waves of a strong orgasm, and the familiar feeling of the warm fluid flowing down over my hand.
“God, she’s hot. But she’s also very married, and a valued customer, so hands off, dude!”
I chuckled to myself, and fell asleep.

The week went by fast, and I found myself looking forward to our next lesson. I even thought of it while my band was playing over the weekend. I had never had any problem getting women, and I ended up going home with a very pretty and petite blonde, Kim, that I knew from the club. She was nice, and I liked her, but I found myself comparing her slow responses to my cultural inferences and jokes to the sharp, witty ones that I knew that Renee would make. Later that night I slowly made love to Kim, gently caressing her smooth, tanned body, and tasting her musky womanhood. The strange part was that I kept seeing Renee’s smiling face in my mind! I felt like a teenager with a crush, and I couldn’t wait until the next lesson.
The time finally came, and I found myself driving down her street again toward the house. As I approached, I noticed a large, jet black and shiny SUV in the driveway. I parked my station wagon next to it, got out, and walked to the front door, guitar case in hand. I rang the doorbell, and soon heard the sound of the deadbolt. The door pulled open, and instead of seeing the smiling face of Renee, I found myself face to face with an older man in a business suit. My first impression was that he resembled an actor that I had seen in some show, but I couldn’t place the name. He appeared to be around sixty years of age, and bald-headed. He looked to be in good physical condition, and he was what most women would consider attractive in a fatherly sort of way. At first, he glared at me with suspicious eyes, but as he noticed my casual apparel and guitar case, softened his gaze, replacing it with an expression of mild disgust.
Without addressing me at all, he turned his head toward the kitchen and called out,
“Renee! Your guitar instructor is here!”

He gave me one quick glance and brusquely turned away, striding into the other room.
“Okay. This is one friendly son of a bitch.”
“Patrick! Come in, please!”
She was standing in the kitchen entryway, that wonderful smile on her face, her body wrapped in a flowery bathrobe. I felt my face flush as my eyes met hers.
“She’s so beautiful. How could she be married to this rude asshole?”
I smiled back, and she signaled me to follow her. I walked out to the pool deck and over to the couch. I couldn’t help admiring the curves of her body as she walked in front of me. She took her place on it, and I took mine on the other side. She placed her hands in her lap and looked at me.
“I see you’ve met Sam.”
“Yes. Is he in a bad mood or something?”
She looked down, breaking our gaze. 
“No, he is just like that sometimes. He has to spend his whole day pretending to like everyone, so when he’s home, he doesn’t feel that he has to be polite.”
I just looked at her blankly.
“Okay. I guess I understand that.”
“I’m not asking you too. I don’t like it either. All I can do is apologize for him.”
“No, you don’t have to. I don’t mind.”
“Don’t worry; I deal with complete assholes all the time.”
I smiled at her. She seemed to loosen up, and returned it with a bright one of her own.
“Okay,” I said, “let’s get started!”

We got our guitars out, and began to tune them. She struggled with the small electronic tuner that I had given her the week before.
“Okay, Patrick, I’m good.”
“Great! Let’s play “Leavin’ on a Jet Plane.”
“I’ll try. I practiced all week!”
I started the song, strumming softly. 
Suddenly, the porch door opened. 
“Renee! I’ve got to go! My plane leaves in an hour!”
She placed the guitar on the couch, and got up from the couch.
“I’ll be right back, Patrick.”
“No problem.”
I looked at Sam Tompkins.
“Have a nice trip!” I said cheerfully, using my best phony smile.
He looked at me blankly.
“Yeah, Thanks.”
He turned and followed his wife into the house.
After about ten minutes, I heard the SUV start from around the side of the house. I heard it back down the driveway, and pull away sharply, the tires squealing a little at the rapid acceleration.
Renee returned, and I could almost swear that she seemed a little different for some reason.
“Relieved?”
She sat back down, and picked up her guitar. I thought it better to not mention the awkward exchange with her husband.