Work Text:
With Love, Michaela…
a/n: the image above inspired this fic so please show the artist some love on Instagram & Twitter @anivrah!
edit: omg the rest of her work is freaking incredible! run, don’t walk 🏃🏾♀️➡️
Francesca’s fingers moved across the ivory keys with practiced grace, each note rich and languid, filling the dimly lit room bathed in deep red and rose light that cast long, sensual shadows across the polished wood of the grand piano. The warm glow made the white fabric of her flowing dress shimmer softly, the thin material clinging to the subtle curves of her body and glowing like it had been kissed by firelight. On the stand rested the sheet music Michaela had written for her—the final line in Michaela’s own elegant, flowing script:
With Love, Michaela…
Michaela had been sitting in the corner for the past twenty minutes, watching in silence, her pulse already racing. She had composed this piece for Francesca weeks ago—a slow, sensual melody meant to seduce and overwhelm. Hearing Francesca play it now, her strong, elegant fingers dancing across the keys with such effortless control, was driving Michaela insane. Every rolling chord vibrated through the floor and straight up between her thighs, reminding her exactly how those same fingers had felt buried deep inside her, curling and stroking until she fell apart. The memory made her clench involuntarily, a fresh rush of wetness soaking her already slick folds.
She had been wet for hours. The deep burgundy dress she wore—fitted tight through the bodice to hug her full breasts and flowing loosely from the hips—already clung slightly to her skin from the heat building low in her belly. Every time Francesca’s fingers caressed a new note, Michaela imagined them on her body instead: sliding over her thighs, thrusting deep between her legs. The present ache between her legs had grown unbearable at the thought—a constant, throbbing need that made her shift restlessly in her seat, her slickness coating her inner thighs. She couldn’t wait any longer.
She approached from behind, pressing close against Francesca’s back so that the heat of her body seeped through the thin white dress. Her hands started high—sliding up strong arms, fingertips tracing the tension in her shoulders through the soft fabric, feeling the way the muscles flexed and relaxed with each chord. Then they moved to her neck, thumbs brushing the sensitive skin just below her ear, feeling the faint flutter of Francesca’s pulse quicken. Francesca’s breath hitched audibly, but the music continued, though a little less steady now, the notes wavering like they were drunk on the tension in the air.
“Keep playing for me,” Michaela whispered hotly into her ear, her breath warm and teasing against the shell, voice dripping with need. “Your hands look so pretty on the keys… but I bet they’d look even better all over me.”
Her palms slid down to Francesca’s chest, cupping and squeezing her breasts through the thin white fabric, thumbs circling the hardening nipples beneath. The material was so delicate it felt almost like skin, and Michaela could feel the exact moment those pink peaks stiffened under her touch. Francesca missed a note, the melody faltering for a second, a soft, involuntary sound escaping her throat, but she stubbornly pushed on.
Michaela smiled against her neck, inhaling the faint scent of Francesca’s skin—warm, clean, with a hint of something sweet like vanilla from her perfume. She let her hands wander lower. Down the flat plane of her stomach, feeling the muscles tense, over her thighs where the white dress had ridden up slightly, until her fingers finally brushed the growing bulge straining against the thin white material. The fabric was so sheer it did almost nothing to hide the heavy, thickening outline. Michaela stroked it slowly, deliberately, feeling the thick length twitch and swell under her palm, the heat of it radiating through the material, the subtle pulse of blood rushing to make it even harder.
“You’re getting so hard already,” Michaela breathed, giving the heavy outline a firm squeeze through the dress, feeling it spasm in response. “Trying so hard to focus while your cock’s throbbing for me… I can feel how thick you are. How much you want to stretch me open right here on this piano.”
Another wrong note slipped in, sharper this time. Francesca’s thighs tensed beneath her hands, the muscles jumping.
Michaela pulled back just enough to move in front of the piano. With a wicked little smile, she hopped onto the edge of the already-closed lid of the pianoforte—the perfect height letting her sit right at eye level, the glossy wood cool against the backs of her thighs. She spread her legs wide, her burgundy dress riding up her thighs to expose the smooth, warm skin and the fact that she wore nothing underneath. The red lighting painted her dark skin in rich, glowing tones, highlighting the slick sheen already visible on her inner thighs. She locked eyes with Francesca as she slipped a hand between her own legs, fingers gliding through the slick heat she’d been fighting for the last half hour.
She started slow—fingers circling her swollen clit with wet, audible little sounds, then dipping lower to tease her slick entrance, two fingers sliding in easily from how soaked she already was. A soft, needy moan escaped her lips as she touched herself right there in front of her lover.
That was what finally broke Francesca.
The music cut off sharply. Francesca rose from the bench, eyes dark with hunger. She stepped between Michaela’s spread thighs, one hand immediately gripping her jaw and tilting her head back, while the other yanked her closer. Their mouths crashed together in a deep, desperate kiss—tongues sliding hot and wet, the taste of wine from earlier still lingering faintly on Francesca’s lips.
When they broke apart, Francesca’s voice came out low and rough, laced with possessive heat. “What makes you think you can touch what’s mine? Teasing my cock, playing with yourself in front of me… you’re going to have to learn exactly who this pretty body belongs to tonight.”
Francesca’s free hand pulled the neckline of her burgundy dress lower, exposing Michaela’s breasts fully to the crimson light. She filled her palms with the soft, full flesh, squeezing firmly, feeling the weight and warmth of them. Her thumbs brushed over the dark brown nipples, rolling them between her fingers, pinching gently at first, then harder, watching the skin draw taut and rigid. Then she broke the kiss to lean down, latching onto one stiff peak with her mouth. She sucked hard, tongue flicking and swirling around the sensitive brown bud. Michaela arched into the attention, a needy whimper escaping her as sparks of pleasure shot straight to her core.
Francesca didn’t stop there. She kissed a slow, deliberate trail downward—soft, open-mouthed presses along the underside of Michaela’s breast, then lower across the warm plane of her stomach, tasting the faint salt of her skin. Each kiss made Michaela’s breath hitch, her hips shifting restlessly as anticipation coiled tighter in her belly. Francesca’s hands smoothed over her thighs, gently spreading them wider, her mouth hovering just above where Michaela needed her most. She paused a moment to observe the pained look of desperation on her face.
And only then did she drop lower.
Her mouth was ravenous. She licked a broad stripe up Michaela’s folds, tasting the sweet, musky slickness that had been building all evening, then sealed her lips around her clit, sucking with eager hunger. Her tongue worked in tight, relentless circles, flicking and swirling over the swollen bud with wet, obscene sounds. Michaela’s hips jerked, a broken moan tearing from her throat as sharp jolts of pleasure radiated through her core.
Francesca pulled back just enough to slide two long fingers deep into Michaela’s soaked heat. The stretch was immediate and delicious—those beautiful, graceful fingers curled slowly, pressing firmly against that sensitive spot inside her with every deliberate stroke. The combination of Francesca’s hot tongue still flicking her clit and the steady, curling pressure of her fingers made Michaela’s thighs tremble. Heat coiled tighter and tighter in her belly, her walls fluttering around the intrusion, slick sounds filling the air with every thrust of those fingers. Michaela’s breath came in short, desperate gasps, her hands gripping the edge of the piano lid as pleasure built in heavy, pulsing waves.
“Fran… oh fuck…” she whimpered, hips rolling helplessly against Francesca’s mouth and hand. The sensation was overwhelming—the wet heat of Francesca’s tongue, the perfect curl of her fingers hitting that spot over and over, the slick sounds of her own arousal echoing in the room.
As Francesca devoured her, Michaela’s voice turned desperate. “Please… Fran… I need you inside me. Fill me up. I want you inside.”
Francesca growled against her skin, clearly fighting her own restraint, but the begging broke her completely. She stood, hiking up the hem of her flowing white dress. Her cock sprang free—thick, long, and achingly heavy, the flushed head glistening with precum, veins standing out along the impressive length. She pressed the blunt tip against Michaela’s soaked entrance and pushed in slowly, letting her feel every thick inch.
The stretch burned so good. Michaela gasped as Francesca’s thick cock split her open, her walls fluttering and stretching wide around the impressive girth, the visible bulge pressing outward in her lower belly with every inch that disappeared inside her. Francesca bottomed out with a low groan, hips flush against her, the heat and fullness overwhelming.
“Look at you,” Francesca murmured, voice rough. Her hand stayed on Michaela’s jaw, thumb stroking her cheek as she held eye contact. “Taking every inch of me so perfectly. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Teasing me until I had to bury my cock deep inside you.”
Michael’s nodded fervently. Francesca would give her exactly what she wanted.
She started thrusting—deep, powerful strokes that made the piano lid creak faintly beneath them, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing softly. Her free hand never left Michaela’s breasts, groping, squeezing, pinching the dark brown nipples in time with each thrust. Michaela’s legs wrapped around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer.
Michaela’s first orgasm hit hard. Her walls clenched tight around Francesca’s thick length, holding her deep inside as she came with a cry, the pleasure crashing through her in waves that made her vision blur.
They shifted for a moment. Francesca kept one arm wrapped securely around Michaela’s waist, holding her close as she slowly sat back down on the piano bench. Michaela’s legs remained loosely wrapped around her for a second longer, her body still trembling from the intense orgasm. And as Francesca settled onto the bench, she guided Michaela with her, lifting her just enough to reposition her.
Michaela’s knees came down on either side of Francesca’s hips, straddling her lap, and the movement made Francesca’s thick cock shift inside her, dragging deliciously against oversensitive walls and drawing a shaky moan from Michaela’s lips. The aftershocks of her first climax made every small motion feel electric—her pussy still clenching sporadically around the heavy length, sending little sparks of lingering pleasure through her core.
Michaela sank slowly onto that same thick cock until she was fully seated once more. The piano keys pressed beneath her thighs and the curve of her ass, letting out soft, irregular clashing notes with every subtle shift of her weight. The new position felt different—deeper in some ways, more intimate, with their chests nearly pressed together and Francesca’s hands free to roam.
Michaela could feel the warmth from her first orgasm rushing at the junction of her thighs, down her lover’s length, and the fresh slickness mixing between them, making the slide even smoother, more obscene.
This time she rode slow and deep—long, rolling glides and tight circles that let her feel every ridge and vein stretching her deliciously open. Francesca’s hands worshipped her breasts again, lifting them, sucking fresh marks into the soft brown skin around the dark nipples, pinching until Michaela whimpered with overstimulation.
“You feel incredible riding me like this,” Francesca praised, voice husky against her skin. “So wet… so tight…”
Michaela felt Francesca’s cock throb hard inside her, the thick length pulsing with warning. Francesca’s grip on her hips tightened. “Baby… stop,” she groaned, voice strained. “I’m so close—if you keep going I’m gonna cum inside you.”
Michaela only smiled wickedly and kept rolling her hips in those same slow, deep circles, clenching around her on every downward glide. One of her hands slipped between their bodies, fingers finding her swollen clit. She rubbed firm, steady circles in time with her riding, the added stimulation pushing her higher. “That’s it… fill me up while I cum on your cock again,” she whispered hotly against Francesca’s ear, voice dripping with filthy promise. “I want to feel you lose it inside me while my pussy milks every drop out of you.”
The combination of the thick cock stretching her so perfectly, the slow, deep grind, and her own fingers on her clit sent Michaela over the edge. Her second orgasm crashed through her—walls fluttering and clenching hard around Francesca’s length as she cried out, body trembling, slickness coating them both even more.
Francesca tried to hold back, but the tight, rhythmic pulses of Michaela’s pussy milking her proved too much. With a guttural moan, Francesca came hard—thick, hot ropes of cum pulsing deep inside Michaela as she continued to ride through every spurt, milking her completely. Cum leaked out around the thick shaft with each slow roll of Michaela’s hips, warm and slick.
They stayed like that for a long, sweet moment, breathing hard. Michaela leaned forward, pressing gentle kisses all over Francesca’s face and neck, murmuring soft praises. “You’re so beautiful when you let go… I love feeling you inside me like this.” Francesca’s hands stroked Michaela’s back and thighs tenderly, the two of them sharing quiet, intimate touches while Francesca caught her breath and her cock slowly softened inside the warm, cum-filled heat.
After a few minutes of that gentle afterglow, Michaela stayed seated in Francesca’s lap, still impaled on her softening cock. She kept her body pressed flush against Francesca’s, rocking in slow, lazy circles while her inner walls continued to gently clench and release around the sensitive length. She trailed soft, lingering kisses along Francesca’s jaw and down her neck, occasionally brushing her lips over Francesca’s ear and whispering, “I can still feel you… every pulse. Stay inside me a little longer. You feel so good, so deep.” One of her hands rested on Francesca’s chest, fingers gently stroking over her heart through the thin white dress, feeling the rapid beat beneath her palm. The combination of the warm, slick heat still surrounding her cock, Michaela’s rhythmic clenching, the tender kisses, and the intimate closeness made Francesca’s cock twitch violently. It began to swell again almost immediately, thickening and hardening while still buried deep inside Michaela’s warm, messy heat. The sensitivity from her recent orgasm only made the slow, affectionate teasing feel even more intense.
Michaela felt it immediately and let out a soft, pleased hum against Francesca’s neck. “Already?” she teased lovingly.
Francesca’s eyes darkened with renewed hunger. “I need you closer,” she murmured, voice low and rough.
She lifted Michaela off her lap with strong arms, both of them sliding down onto the soft rug in front of the piano in one heated motion. Francesca laid Michaela gently on her back, then moved between her legs, their bodies never fully separating. With a low growl, she hooked her hands under Michaela’s knees and slowly pushed them up and wide, folding her almost in half so her hips tilted upward. The position opened Michaela completely, letting Francesca sink even deeper as she thrust back in with one smooth, powerful stroke.
The new angle was devastating. Francesca’s thick cock drove so deep that Michaela felt the blunt head pressing firmly against the very end of her, stretching her in a way that made her eyes roll back. Every slow, deliberate thrust dragged against every oversensitive nerve ending. Michaela’s body reacted instantly—her walls clenched uncontrollably around the thick length, fluttering and squeezing with a mind of its own. The pleasure was suddenly too much, too intense; her body was still raw and hypersensitive, and now this new depth was pulling another orgasm out of her before she was ready. She was gone—delirious, trembling, lost in the overwhelming fullness and the relentless pressure against that deepest spot.
“Fran—oh god—” Michaela gasped, voice breaking, her hands clutching desperately at Francesca’s shoulders as another orgasm built impossibly fast. Her legs shook in Francesca’s grip, her pussy pulsing and clenching wildly around the cock that was growing even harder and thicker inside her with every thrust. Francesca’s movements became more wild, more unrestrained, hips snapping harder as she chased her own edge, driven by the way Michaela’s body kept tightening around her like it never wanted to let go.
Michaela came again, then a fourth time right after—each orgasm ripping through her with shattering intensity, her walls locking down hard around Francesca as she cried out, body arching, tears of overwhelming pleasure pricking at her eyes. She pulled Francesca down for desperate, open-mouthed kisses, delirious and shaking.
Francesca’s rhythm finally broke. “I can’t hold on much longer,” she growled against Michaela’s lips, voice raw and strained. “You feel so fucking good around me… you’re squeezing me so perfectly, I’m losing my mind.”
Michaela, barely able to speak through the overwhelming waves still crashing over her, managed a broken, breathless whisper against Francesca’s mouth: “Then give it to me… I want to feel you come apart inside me.”
With a final, brutal thrust, Francesca came hard—thick, hot ropes of cum flooding deep inside Michaela in heavy pulses. She stayed buried to the hilt, grinding slow and deep to push every last drop as far as it would go, groaning low as Michaela’s walls fluttered and milked her through it. When the last spasm faded, warm cum began to leak out around the thick base of her cock where they were joined.
They stayed locked together on the rug, breathing hard under the crimson light, bodies still joined and trembling. Francesca brushed damp curls from Michaela’s forehead, her thumb tracing her swollen lower lip with surprising tenderness. Michaela looked up at her with heavy-lidded eyes, a slow, satisfied smile curving her lips as she pulled Francesca down into one last deep, lingering kiss.
“I’m so happy to be loved by you… happy that my body belongs to you. If I could choose it every single time, I’d give it all away to you, again and again.”
She offered her heart the same way she had offered the composition of her music—freely, completely, and with everything she had.
With Love, Michaela…