Free The Conductor and the Muse by Veronika Myse

 
    A soft knock startles me as I sit at my desk. 
    “Come in,” I say stepping to my feet.
    “Conductor?   I apologize for disturbing you,” she says lowering her eyes to the carpet .
    I gasp at the site of her.  She looks like an alabaster doll with pale white skin and dark curly hair.
    “No interruption,” I reply.  She raises her eyes and then her face to meet my gaze.  Her eyes are silver with small specks of amethyst sprinkled throughout.  Her nose is small but her lips are full and pink.  I watch as she blushes and extends her hand.  I take it, completely out of habit.
    “My name is Leena.  Leena Winter and I just wanted to thank you for accepting me as your muse .”
    Her fingers are long, slim, and perfectly manicured.  I want to bring them to my lips and kiss each one.  Her eyes lower again and rest on our hands, still holding one another.
    I realize that I am acting completely inappropriate and allow her hand to fall, gracefully to her side.  Her hips are small, and although she is dressed modestly, I can see the outline of her perfect figure.  Her breasts are high, firm and pressing against the confines of her cotton top.   She crosses her arms across her just as her nipples pebble and peak.
    I clear my throat, “I am very pleased that you accepted the offer Miss Winter.  It is not often that I have the opportunity to have someone of your talent under me.”
    She blushes, bright pink and shifts her weight.  Her reaction is creating one of its own within my trousers.
    “Please,” I gesture toward the chair in front of my desk.  “Please have a seat,” and I move quickly behind the security of the oak adjusting myself out of view.
    She swallows hard, knots her fingers together and places them in her lap as she sits properly in the le ather chair.  She looks nervous or scared and I am troubled that I have intimidated her.
    “What do you wish to take with you once the year is over?”  I ask this question to each muse and always near the beginning of our encounter.
    Her eyes dart to mine and widen.  I watch as her pupils dilate and she shifts in the chair.
    “Everything that the Conductor is willing to share with me, I will graciously accept,” she swallows again.  Her voice is raspy, breathy and she is rubbing the top of her thighs with her hands.
    “Are you nervous?”
    She nods her head, “Very.  I have never met anyone like you,” her mouth opens and I watch her tongue appear and wet her lips.
    And I you, I think to myself.
    “Would you feel up to playing for me this evening?  I mean, after you have settled into the guest house of course?”  Why am I asking her?  I am the Conductor and I have never cared if any of my muses were settled in before asking them to share their talent with me.
    “I have already unpacked Conductor.  I,” she stops.  “I would very much enjoy the pleasure of being in your presence this evening.”
    “Did you receive the schedule already?”
    “Yes Conductor, M s . Tanes presented it to me upon my arrival.”
    “So am I to expect you for dinner then?”
    She nodded, “Yes, but now I should go.”  She stood and made her way quickly to the door.  I watch as she leaves.  I cannot stand for fear of embarrassment.  She excites me, a feeling that has been absent for far too many years.
    I need to release some pent up energy before I see her again.  I take the stairs, two at a time and feel light on my feet.  I remove my jacket and lay it on the foot of my bed.  I pull my tie and place it in the door handle of my closet.  Removing my collared shirt and slacks, I step into my running shorts and grab a fresh pair of socks.  My heart is thudding and my erection has yet to retreat.  I hope the staff is busy preparing dinner I think to myself as I tie my running shoes.
    I reach for my mp3 and place the buds into my ears.  Miss Winter had sent her compilations with her appli cation and I have listened to them enough to have the separate