All characters in this story are over 18 years of age.
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Coco invited Igor to stay at her home in September 1920. Despite his success, he was in financial difficulty. She was an admirer of his work and offered to give him a place to live and compose.
Her house was set in the quiet, elegant suburbs of Paris in ample grounds; giving it a secluded, small country estate feel.
The house was of the traditional French style, but Coco had renovated it in her own style; the whole house was decorated solely in black and white. She favoured simple chic designs and clean lines.
Igor settled into his new home and established his routine of working out before breakfast, looking over his score, then composing all afternoon. Then he would take a walk in the grounds, resume composing after dinner, or sit and read.
Coco mostly stayed in her apartment in Paris to be near her design studio, but she would take breaks intermittently to rest and refresh herself and return to her work invigorated.
Since Igor had arrived, her visits to her secondary residence became more frequent. She enjoyed listening to him composing at her piano in the parlour, accompanying him on his early evening walks and then sitting in quiet company reading by the fire at night.
They began to establish a friendship, finding shared interests and genuinely enjoying one another's company. Igor was aware, however, that he had a home by her good grace and generosity, and this could change at any moment. Initially he longed to regain his independence, but gradually he began to enjoy being at her mercy.
As time progressed, a slight flirtation developed as their intimacy deepened. Light touches on a shoulder, a hand offered for support, a lingering kiss on the cheek goodnight.
Igor lay awake at night thinking about his Mistress. Her elegant figure, her dark, mischievous brown eyes, her enigmatic smile. He longed to caress her, kiss her, worship every inch of her to show his infinite gratitude.
Suddenly, their intimate routine was disrupted by Coco having to go to New York for fashion week. With all of the preparations and parties, she was away for a whole month. Igor continued his routine without her, but was lacklustre and his inspiration dried up. He longed for her company, their private jokes, and the glances he would steal from his side view between the buttons of her blouse.
When Coco returned one afternoon, Igor was at the piano as usual. She walked in, wearing a long satin pale grey dress that clung to her slender figure. She smiled at Igor, then put her hand on his shoulder, the other on top of the piano and stood on his thigh, so that she was sitting on top of the piano, facing him.
He was confused, but kept on playing, he couldn't think what she was up to, but she had a mischievous glint in her eye. She pulled up her dress to reveal she was completely naked underneath. She spread her legs wide and started pissing.
Igor was immobilised with surprise and arousal. He was transfixed on seeing her pussy for the first time with its garland of dark pubic hair, releasing a fountain upon his still-playing fingers. Her piss splashed the keys as he played on, unable to stop, for fear this moment would end.
Her face remained serene throughout the entire event. When she had finished, she took his silk tie, still tied around his neck, and drew it to her, wiping the few drops of piss that still clung to her labia. Then she dropped her dress back down, stepped off the piano, and left the room.
Igor was still rooted to the spot, his wet tie hanging limp, unlike his cock, which was erect and straining in his suit trousers. He was still too shocked to do anything about it and continued his composition, still trying to make sense of what had happened, but sure that he would never wash his tie again.
