Esther turned to the keyboard. She put her hands on the keys. She frowned for a moment. I almost laughed. It was the exact expression that Morry wore ...efore beginning to play. Then Esther started to play.I don't know what I expected. Perhaps the usual incoherent banging on the keys that most children produce when they "play" the piano. That was not what we heard. Instead, we heard what sounded to me like a finished piece of music. And very well-played. It began with a galumphing sort of theme.. I am not sure if it is my cock pounding her, like a piston in a race car, slapping her ass with my thighs and hips. Maybe it's the vibrator that she is holding on her clit pressing harder and harder. I think it is more of the fantasy in her head that she is being filled up from both ends. Our sex didn't used to be this way. We mostly did it missionary style with me on my knees and holding her ass up in the air so she could have easy access to her clit, either rubbing it with her fingers or one. "Oh the hell with it, why not," she said, putting down her glass and picking up the nearby phone, quickly dialling the number in the advert. She knew it was late, but had to do it right then. Being sober she'd never do it, it was a spur of the moment thing. It rang for a minute and then was answered by a tentative voice."Hello?" said a male voice, just as she'd figured it would be."Hi there, I'm calling about this advert you placed, wanting a model?" she purred, well at least she tried. She. Well I did go to the bathroom in my panties and tee shirt. Then I fell asleep. Life is a bitch when you have a female bladder. Even after going before bedtime I would still be in the bathroom again, at least once, before 6AM.At 6AM there wasn't much I could do about the truck so I took the trike out to the airstrip. When I opened the garage, I found the riding mower where I had left it. I checked before I hooked the canary to it and it would not start. Why it wouldn't I had no idea. There were.