“I’ve had a hard evening at the gala, trying to socialise in an element out of my norm and somehow caught the eye of the lead chello player… a quick glass of wine and a note delivered by waiter later I find myself whisked away to her private mansion after the event concluded and upon entering her music room there she lays…
 
A happy smirk, clad in her bowtie and little else as she twirls her panties on her finger playfully and the eyes wander over her… HOLY ENORMOUS HORSE DINGUS BATMARE, THAT THING COULD ENDANGER LIVES BY SWINGING AROUND!
 
… no wonder she had a big dress on, with that thing, bloody eck!
 
Her smirk only grows as she notes the expression on my face and briefly looks to the cello over yonder before she licks her lips and points down at the bulging package between her legs, resting happily on the couch as her length throbs softly, bouncing and awaiting action.
 
“I could let you practice the strings…” She smirks, gently rubbing a hand over it whilst grinning. “But I figured one should learn percussion and how to properly tend to another musicians prized apparatus, am I correct?”
 
… This is going to be a VERY long evening, and yet, I dont find myself protesting to this turn of events, in all honesty… why would I?  
[It was a quite subtle change, did you spot it? ;) ]