Just spent the evening playing Chopin on the piano while Toby curled up at my feet. There's something about the way music fills the empty spaces in this house that makes the loneliness more bearable. The keys under my fingers, the vibration through the floorboards... it's the only time I feel truly in control of something beautiful.
Sometimes I imagine what it would be like to have someone watching me play, their eyes on my hands moving across the keys, my body swaying with the music. The thought of being observed like that, completely vulnerable yet completely in command... it makes my pussy ache with a different kind of hunger. Maybe one day I'll play for someone who understands that kind of intensity.
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