The Piano Teacher - Cover

The Piano Teacher

Copyright© 2013 by Bunty Scott

Chapter 58

Lesbian Sex Story: Chapter 58 - A piano teacher indulges her lust for other women.

Caution: This Lesbian Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   Lesbian  

'So what did you two get up to?'

The directness of the question threw me for a moment. 'Oh you know, just mooched about. We did watch a really good film though, "The English Patient", a real weepy.By the way, I'm going out later, popping round a mate's house, do some revision for our exams.' I was keen to get her off the subject of me and Maggie.

'Which friend is that; Milly?'

'No, it's John. He's a real whizz on literature.' At the mention of a male name, mum perked up.

'John eh? Why don't you bring him around sometime?'

'Yes, I could do. But for now, I'll just pop round his place. I'm meeting him at about twelve, so I'll go at about half eleven.'

'Did you have breakfast at Maggie's?'

'Porridge and honey, she said you told her I liked it.'

'I may have mentioned it. You'll need something before you go out though. How about sausage and mash?'

'That sounds good mum, thanks. I'll just get my books together.'

I went upstairs and stowed my kit bag in my wardrobe. Then I grabbed a random book, a light one that I'd have to carry around in my rucksack when I went to meet "La Femme Mysterieuse".

I came back down, book in hand, and tossed my rucksack by the front door. Mum was busy frying the sausages. I helped by getting the mash from the fridge and shoving it in the microwave.

Within a few minutes, dinner was ready. As mum spooned the mash on to my plate she tutted. 'I don't know Jenny, you treat this place like a hotel; in one minute and out the next. You're never here.'

'Sorry ma, I can't help it if I'm a popular girl.' I hoped that she'd never find out just how popular.

Mum tutted again.'I suppose it's better than hanging around the house all day. Will you be back for tea?' I was reluctant to mention that I would be out in the evening, the three way liaison with Ruth and the Irish lass was scheduled for later on. I'd have to wait until I spoke to Linda. She hadn't phoned yet, or at least mum hadn't mentioned it. 'Actually, I might be going out tonight as well. Sorry. I'm expecting a call from someone called Linda, it's about arranging netball practice. If she calls, could you get her number and I'll call her back, thanks.'

Mum looked rather fed up and I felt guilty. After we had finished the meal, I did the washing up.

I checked the time, it was eleven thirty, time to go. I made a show of putting the book in my rucksack and kissed mum goodbye, I apologised again for my absence and promised that I'd spend the evenings at home. Only the evenings where I wasn't on a promise of course, but I didn't tell her that.

I left home at eleven forty, I reckoned just enough time to get to the bandstand in the park, and even if I was late, she or he, would stick around if they really wanted to see me, whoever it was.

As it turned out, I got to the bandstand at seven minutes past twelve, I certainly wasn't going to hurry. When I arrived, there was a random assortment of people milling around. There was a couple of women with dogs chatting together, trying to keep their dogs apart. A gang of young boys on bicycles were whizzing round and round, in danger of knocking anyone over who stupidly stepped in to their path. Various other people were standing around just enjoying the mid day sun. I couldn't see anyone who looked like they were obviously the message writer, though I wasn't sure who or what I was looking for. I hung around the bandstand, trying not to look like I was meeting someone.

I stood there feeling like a lemon, watching people walk by, one or two gave me a look, but no one said anything. By about twelve fifteen, I was beginning to seriously think that it was a wind up, somebody was having me on. Then I heard a voice from my right. 'Hello Jenny.' It was a heavily accented female voice, and I knew, even before I turned, what sort of person it was that owned such a voice. I looked at the woman standing a few feet to my side. It was a short, plump Indian or Pakistani woman. She was about five foot two, with long black hair tied in a braid down her back. She was wearing a red and gold Sari. Her gently rounded belly was exposed and revealed a small red gemstone in her navel, she also had a red dot in the middle of her forehead. She was quite pretty, although she had slightly protruding teeth, and her dazzling white smile seemed genuine. She looked as if she was in her mid thirties. 'Thank you for coming here with me. I didn't think you would come here.'

She advanced towards me and touched my arm. 'My name is Razia. Razia Chowdhury. I saw you playing the netball game. I saw you with those women who have the bands, I know what you are.' She smiled warmly.

There was no hint of malice or threat in her voice, she was just explaining the circumstances.

'So it was you who wrote the note in my bag?' She let go of my hand but stood closer to me, close enough for me to feel one of her ample boobs press against my arm; it felt wonderfully soft and warm through the colourful material of her sari. She looked around us, as if she was worried about being seen with me. 'Yes, I put it there. I was watching the game and I saw you.'

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