Sweet Interlude

The following is a story of romance, discovery and love. If you're looking for a lot of hot sex, it isn't the story for you. The sex comes at the end and is hopefully loving, tender and gentle. I have to thank my muse, the lovely Mona Lisa of Literotica. XOXOXOX's to you, Sweet Thing.

*

I thought the first thing I would have noticed as I entered the luxurious penthouse apartment might have been the lavish furniture or the fine art along the wall or the exquisite chandelier in the entryway. The first thing I noticed was the music. Someone was playing a piano in the living room.

Two things struck me. First was the quality of the piano. I couldn't see it but I could tell it was a very expensive high end grand. Second, was the pure beauty of the music. It was a simple smooth jazz rendition of a 1930s Gershwin piece called "Nice Work If You Can Get It", but it rang. It flowed through the halls like magic. The piano, as grand as it probably was, was only the instrument. I knew this music was borne in the heart and soul of the artiste at the keyboard. My first instinct was to head directly to the living room to meet this person, but my host had different plans for me.

My name is John and I like to think of myself as a musician. I play at playing guitar. I wish I could say I was of the same caliber as Eric Clapton or Neil Young, but I can only say that I play a pretty decent rhythm guitar. I can keep rhythm with the best of them. I was here to promote music but strangely enough, not my guitar playing.

I can chord on a piano, but that's about it. Years ago I bought a fancy keyboard with all kinds of rhythms and backgrounds on it. It was just for my enjoyment, but through the years I composed a number of pieces using the provided sounds and rhythms. When I played them at parties, people seemed to like them. So I recorded a CD to give to anybody who wanted one. Then I got a wild hair to put some of the compositions on the Internet. To my great surprise, people started buying my CD. One thing led to another and someone on NPR reviewed it. After that, independent stations and more NPR stations started playing it. And that's what brought me to New York City.

My host, a record producer named Bernie had invited me to come back east to discuss putting the CD out into the mainstream. I had no illusions about becoming a second Kitaro but I figured what the heck. At my age (I'm 64) I imagined that at best I might be a one hit wonder, but if I could make a few bucks to supplement my retirement and leave some residual income to my kids, why not? Bernie produced CDs to sell in bookstores and espresso shops and had been fairly successful at it. That is what he had in mind for my music.

He saw that I was trying to look into the living room and said, "Hey John, I've been around musicians long enough to know that you want to go straight to that piano and linger there. I'll introduce you to Teresa in a minute. There are a few folks I would really like you to meet first."

He took me around and introduced me to a number of guests, but quite frankly I really wasn't paying attention. I couldn't keep myself from listening to the music. The musician was playing everything from jazz and swing to blues and pop standards with a little Beethoven and Mozart thrown in. And it was beautiful.

When we finally reached the living room I got my first glimpse of "Teresa" and the magnificent Baldwin grand piano she was playing. She was a very pretty dark haired woman who appeared to be in her early to mid forties. The first thing I noticed was her uncanny resemblance to Da Vinci's "Mona Lisa." I wanted to catch her eye, but she was truly engrossed in playing music. I don't think she noticed anything other than what was flowing through her fingers.

After a few more introductions my host took my arm and we began to walk toward the piano. Just as we were approaching, she started to play "That Lucky Old Sun." That was always one of my favorites and I have performed on stage many times, so I couldn't help myself as I came up beside her and I began to sing.

"Up in the morning, out on the job. Work like the Devil for my pay. But that Lucky Ol' Sun got nothin' to do but roll around Heaven all day."

She looked up to me and I sang the second verse, went to the bridge and then the last verse. She then took the lead and improvised a beautiful refrain. When she finished I came in once again with the bridge and last verse. Then I nodded and she improvised to a fantastic ending. When we finished, the room broke into enthusiastic applause.

Then our host said, "That's why I was saving Teresa for the last. John Ferraro, Teresa Romano. Teresa this is John."

She stood and extended her hand to me. I saw how pretty she really was. Dark hair and eyes, about five foot six with a very nice figure. Not hour glass or Hollywood, but very, very nice. The perfect example of a very beautiful Mediterranean Lady.

"Hello John, I'm happy to meet you. Bernie has told me all about you and your music."

I took her hand and said, "Ah, a 'piasan'. Happy to meet you Teresa. I hope what you have heard has been good."

That's when Bernie broke in. "Actually John, that's why I wanted you two to meet. Your music is great, but it does need some work. I've know Teresa since the day she was born and as you've heard she has tremendous talent, and a great ear. I believe that talent can make your offering even better. I was hoping you two could collaborate on the CD I want to produce."

"Wow," I thought to myself. I didn't see that one coming.

Then Bernie said, "I don't want to change anything. I just want to smooth it out some. Make it the best it can be. The best that you have inside of you."

I looked at him, then to Teresa. The first thing that came to mind was that I had been fairly successful in selling on line so why should I change anything? My ego wanted to walk away and forget about the whole deal. My good sense finally popped in and I thought, "This is your last chance to ever do anything like this Ferraro, so you'd better go for it." Besides, I really didn't want to walk out on this dark haired Latin beauty. Something about her caught hold of me.

I finally swallowed my pride and said, "Actually Bern, as much as I hate to admit it you're probably right." I looked to Teresa and said, "I can use all the help I can get."

She smiled and Bernie said, "Beautiful. That's why I like working with older artists. All that ego bullshit has been left behind. Now, I'm going to leave you two alone and let you get to know one another."

He shook my hand, smiled and kissed Teresa on the cheek. Then he turned and walked away.

I wish I could say that we hit it off right away, but needless to say things were a bit awkward for a short time. We stood there in silence for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few seconds. Teresa was the first to break the ice.

"I'm sorry John. Bernie has never been the most subtle person I know. He should have discussed it with you before tonight. I really apologize for the way it came about."

Thank God for her gentle eyes and Mona Lisa smile. I finally got my composure back and said, "No. I hate to admit it, but he is right Teresa. I've been playing music all my life, more than fifty years, but I am an amateur. A few Saturday night gigs, farmer's markets and county fairs. Other than that it has just been a hobby for me. I'm really grateful to get this opportunity and I know that I could use some professional help."

She laughed. "Ha. If its professional help you want John, that's not me. I'm an amateur just like you. I think that's why he thought we might work well together."

She explained that she was a night nurse at a large medical center in the City. Even though she had spent her entire life around music and musicians she was indeed an amateur like myself and had the same experiences and gigs. He father had been a professional musician and had played with a number of the famous big bands in the 1930s and 1940s. As the big band era began to wane he broke off and formed bands himself and played all over the east coast. Bernie had been a member of his band(s) until he broke away and got into the production end of the business. Bernie and her father had been close friends since before she was born and indeed he had known her since the day of her birth. Bernie was her godfather. She loved him as a father and would do anything he asked. Even though she had been reluctant at first she agreed to meet me and work with me if I was willing to do it.

She then said that she had some comp days due her at work and could take a week to work on the project.

I told her that I had never collaborated with anybody before but was willing to try anything once. Besides, I really wanted to spend more time with her. I didn't know what it was, but she was definitely drawing me in. Then I asked her what she had in mind.

She said, "I listened to your CD and it is very nice."

Oh shit I thought, then said, "Now there are two words every musician hates to hear."

("Very nice" usually means "I hated it but I don't want to hurt your feelings.")

She must have known what I was thinking so she said, "No, really. I liked it. Three or four of the pieces are simply beautiful. I wouldn't change a thing. Most are really nice, but could use some tweaking to make them better. And frankly John a couple of them are corny and should be thrown out. They aren't even close to the quality of the rest."

I certainly appreciated her candor and gentle way of telling me. I thanked her and said, "What do you say we duck out of here and go someplace where we can discuss what we want to do?"

She got her wrap and we left.

We couldn't really do anything that night so we went to an all night cafe in Times Square and spent the night talking. I told her about my life back in Washington State, that I was a retired logger and woods worker and about my time spent in Europe a couple of years ago. I told her about my quest to find records of my Italian family and about the time I spent in Spain afterward. I wasn't quite ready to tell her about the lady I spent my time with there. (Events told in my previous story, "My Cosette.") I wasn't really hiding anything, I just wasn't quite ready yet. I mentioned that I lost my wife of almost forty years a few years back and she told me she also lost her husband. She had dated some in the past three or four years but, except for one man, none had really been very serious. When I asked her about the "one man" she didn't go into details. She just said, "It didn't work out."

We talked about our kids. I have a son and daughter out west and she has two sons she sees quite often.

Before we knew it, it was very late. Well into the morning. She had an apartment in Manhattan, not far from where we were so I walked her home. It so happened that it wasn't far from my hotel. Even thought this wasn't any kind of "date" I really wanted to kiss her goodnight, but didn't try. I just looked into her eyes and told her how much I was looking forward to working with her. She gave me a little hug and I left.

I thought about her all the way to my hotel. I was surprised at how smitten I was in such a short time. When I got to my room I was so tired I simply undressed, brushed my teeth and crashed.

Teresa stayed with my in my dreams. I dreamed that we were walking in the woods holding hands. The next thing I knew we were laying down kissing tenderly. I remember seeing her eyes as we kissed. We were rubbing together and I could feel it on my erection. It had been a long time since anything had felt like that. Even my lover in Spain, as much as I had felt for her, didn't feel like this. I awoke before I could cum. Oh, how I wanted it to continue. I knew it wouldn't come back if I let myself sleep so I began to stroke myself as I thought of Teresa. I recalled the dream and imagined us kissing again. Then my thoughts went further. I could see her body, naked and beautiful laying next to me. I could feel it. I longed to really feel it, but knew I probably never would. So I continued to imagine her and stroke myself. God, it seemed so real. It felt so real. I could almost feel her, smell her. I kept imagining and stroking. Two lovers engrossed in each other, inflamed with desire. Kissing. Fondling. Joined as one, copulating. Finally I imagined her in sweet orgasm, clamping down on me. I could feel her arms around me. I could hear her moan my name. "Oh John. Oh dear, sweet John."

Then I exploded.

God it was intense. It was almost as if it were real. Teresa and me. Joined in sweet ecstasy. I fell asleep and the rest of the night was filled with sweet dreams of the two of us together.

The next morning I was awakened by the phone.

"Hello John."

Before she could tell me who it was I recognized her voice. It was Teresa.

"Are you ready to go to work?"

I looked at the clock. 8:00. "Shit" I thought. "She's gonna be a hard task master."

"Sure" I said. "I haven't had breakfast yet, would you care to join me?"

She said, "Just come over to my place. I'll fix something. And bring your keyboard with you."

I shaved, showered, dressed, draped my keyboard in its carrying case over my shoulder and headed over to her apartment. I also carried my Boss BR900-CD.

When she opened the door she looked even more beautiful than the night before. She was wearing a white blouse with the top button undone but not showing any cleavage. She had a snug but not tight skirt that went to just below the knees. She looked, quite frankly, very inviting.

When I walked in I saw breakfast set on the table near the window. It was nothing special, but it was nice. It was actually the kind of breakfast I usually set for myself. Cereal, fruit, juice and coffee. We sat there for a time chatting, just enjoying each others company. When we finished, Teresa cleared the table and I helped wash the dishes. Then we went to work.

It really did seem to go pretty fast. One of the hardest tasks in putting a recording together is deciding what to include and what to leave off. I was glad that Teresa had listened to my CD and had ideas about that. It made it much easier for me. And I knew she was right in her selections.

There wasn't that much to do. One of our tasks was to get each part down on paper. I had composed and played using provided sounds on the keyboard then loaded to a floppy disc. After that, I transferred everything to my Boss 8 track digital studio. It was small and portable and I was glad I brought that with me as well. With a little work we were able to transfer everything to Teresa's computer to her Cakewalk music program.

Bernie wanted everything on paper so he could have an orchestra actually do the recording. He wanted to be able to sell sheet music as well as CDs. Teresa, being the computer whiz that she was, was able to get things transferred to the computer and into the program. She had a knack for listening to it once then playing it herself. I was amazed at how well she could pick it up and play.

The process was really pretty slick. I had always wanted to master the computer end of music, but was never able to figure it out. She just breezed right through it. In some respects I was happy to know that it wouldn't take the whole week to do the work, but on the other hand I wanted to stay here as long as possible. I really wanted to spend more time with Teresa.

Teresa fixed a simple lunch for us about mid day then we went back to work. After a few hours I suggested we go out for dinner. She selected a nice little cafe in Times Square. It was small and intimate. The girl at the counter put us in a table in the corner. The dark lighting and candle light made Teresa look more beautiful than ever. God, I was smitten. One of the things I loved best about these moments was that we didn't talk about the project. We talked about our lives, our kids, loves lost and our hopes and dreams. I was surprised at how much I opened up to her. I told her about my tryst with a married woman in Spain and she told me about her past affair with a divorced colleague. The one "that didn't work out." I loved the way we seemed to be completely honest with each other.

After dinner I walked her back to her apartment. Again, I wanted to kiss her goodnight but thought better of it. After all, this wasn't a date. It was business. I walked to my hotel and repeated what I did the previous night. Showered, shaved, went to bed and masturbated while fantasizing about Teresa.

This was the routine for the next three days and nights. Breakfast, work, lunch, work, dinner at a nice restaurant, home and masturbation. Each time I masturbated I longed for her, I longed to be with her. I was beginning to be more than just smitten. I was falling in love.

How could I let this happen, I thought. "This is crazy."

I had experienced feelings for my lover in Spain and for at least one other person since losing my wife, but this was different. This was love. It was foolish to fall in love with Teresa. To begin with, I was at least 15 years her senior. Add to that the fact that my home was three thousand miles away. I doubted she would leave her kids and career to relocate out west and I sure wouldn't move to New York City and leave my family behind. Besides, I thought it was probably a one sided love anyway. How could I be so arrogant to think that she would feel the same. "She's just being kind to help Bernie out," I thought.

I fell asleep and the entire night was filled with dreams of Teresa. Some were scenes of the two of us walking in the park or just spending time together. Others were erotic. The feelings I had in my loins were like nothing I had experienced in the past. I heard myself telling her I loved her time after time that night. A few days ago I had wanted this project to last longer so I could spend more time with her. Now I decided that I had to finish as soon as possible and leave. I knew I couldn't allow this to happen.

The next morning I arose and walked to Teresa's. We thought the day before that we might be able to finish it today. I made up my mind that we would. When she opened the door she looked radiant. Her eyes sparkled as she smiled at me. She extended her hand, took mine and led me in. "I think we're going to get this to a point where we can give it to Bernie," she said.

"Cool," I said. "Lets get cracking."

"Wait a minute Tiger. Not so fast. I have breakfast on the table. Lets eat first."

I followed her to the table. I sat across from her and couldn't keep my eyes off of her. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something was different this morning. She looked even more beautiful than usual. "Shit," I thought. "You gotta get out of here before you do something stupid, Ferraro."

We ate, did the dishes and got to work. I kept stealing glances. From time to time I noticed her looking at me. A few times our hands touched and it felt electric. At about three that afternoon we finished.

Teresa put her arms around me and said, "I called Bernie last night. I thought we would be finished today so I told him we would likely bring our stuff over this evening. Lets go celebrate John." She took my hand. "Come on. Lets go to the Park."

Before I could protest she had me out the door and in the elevator. She took my hand again. "I really feel good about what we've done, John. I've known Bernie long enough to think he'll love it too."

We got to Central Park. "You know, this is one of my favorite places in the City. Anywhere actually." She placed her hand in mine. "I'm really glad I can share this with you, John."

We strolled along and I told her about my woods and how much I loved them. Of course my woods were much wilder and steeper and you didn't see people in them, just wild animals. Deer, elk, bear, cougar, bobcat and the like. I told her how much I would love for her to see them. I told her I had lived in cities and small towns. I told her about the small city I live in now and how it is surrounded on three sides by rolling hills of wheat fields, vineyards and orchards with the Blue Mountains standing up like sentinels to the east. She genuinely seemed interested, and she told me more about her childhood and her father and his music. With each moment I wanted to take her in my arms and devour her.