A FETISH FOR JAZZ
by Helena de la Severin
Swayed by the music.
Cool jazz pulled me in like a fisherman on the sea.
Those smooth tunes running imaginary hands up and down my spine.
The calm relaxes my tension.
My limbs grow limp with anticipation.
Red lips wrapped around a lovely glass.
A glace down at the fishnet that line my legs like a street of cabbies.
Looking for a passenger and a story, even a short one.
The way black traces curves like a highway.
Dragging us back to places we want to remember.
I adore the way the music teases you.
It forces you to look across the room with wanting.
My day was long, like most of the work week.
Something inside me said time to release.
One of those moments when you just follow your instincts.
“Trust yourself”, I thought.
You need to unwind.
A friend reassured me.
“You deserve it”.
“Agreed!”
It was a bittersweet week.
But finally it was my time to enjoy.
Like dark chocolate on my tongue.
I melted just thinking of all the possibility.
Commuting home usually feels like the longest hour of my day, but not tonight.
As I was leaving the office, I flashed on the first time my finger was slammed in a door.
I was so young.
The way it throbbed was mind numbing.
I screamed.
At that moment a boy stopped and turned to me.
Looking me in the eyes, he told me to stop crying.
Then grabbing my finger, he forced it in his mouth.
The way I felt.
From horrible pain to instant heart pounding euphoria.
It was that suffering that stole my innocence.
That unexpected misery followed by the most soothing touch.
Finally making down to the underground parking and into my car,
I turned on my stereo.
Lady Day calls to me.
I feel like all black tonight.
Chinese silk, seam stockings, heels, gloves and a black flower for my hair.
Nothing soothes me like jazz.
Tonight jazz it is.
The moment you walk in the door it’s like a blanket surrounding you.
That cool sax and sexy dark energy.
Glistening flecks of gold shimmer across the band.
Deep sad stories of love and loss spill from the fragile singer.
The club is so tranquil.
Red lights and bodies moving in the shadows.
The more I listen the more I want.
The softness of my skin under my stockings.
I can feel the twitch of garters with my every movement.
Leaning back, I slide my black gloved hand beneath my dress.
Chinese silk with the long slits up each side, makes finding my pussy so much easier.
Music takes you away from it all.
The deeper the tempo, the further I pushed my fingers in my pussy.
I could feel my glove dampening.
Resting against the back of the velvet booth, I kept one arm on the table.
Holding my glass with my hands, I kept thinking.
“Hold it tight, and no one know what you’re doing.”
As people walked past I just sat there with my fingers in my cunt.
None of them knowing what I was up to.
A soft smile graced my ruby red lips
I could feel my cheeks beginning to blush.
Just a little more.
I think I might actually cum.
“This is so hot,” I thought to myself.
I could feel my heart beating faster.
More and more people were beginning to fill the club.
The pace of the music was changing.
Faster and faster.
I had to cum.
This was amazing.
I was almost there, just a little more.
I ran my thumb along the top of my clit.
The soft smooth fabric of my gloves was so lovely.
“I AM CUMING!”
“I AM CUMING!”
The silent scream was torture.
I felt my back stiffen.
Then I came.
As I opened my smoky cat eyes, I was startled by a voice.
” Helena.”
“How have you been?”
My face was flushed and I was taken back for a moment.
Without thinking I pulled my hand from underneath my dress and reached out.
“Leo, how are you?”
As he leaned in to kiss my hand, he paused.
He looked up at me, smiled and kissed my hand.
“You are up to no good as always.”
It was then that I realized my fingers were drenched with my pussy juices.
“You smell lovely tonight.”
“It has been so long.”
“Let me buy you a drink.”
“Thank you”, I replied.
All I could do was smile.
As I brought my fingers to my lips, I realized he was right.
I did smell delicious.
This was not he first time I had been caught being naughty.
Slowly he reached under the table and slid my glove off of my hand.
Kissing my finger tips, he just stared at me.
That stare that looks right through you.
There is something about Chinese silk that always gets me in trouble.
Maybe it is the luxury, the detail or the way it clings to me.
“My car is waiting, would you like to go?”
It was too irresistible to say no.
To go meant only one thing.
I would be cuming again.
No sooner was I in the car; he was on his knees between my legs.
“I have to eat your pussy.”
“You smell so beautiful, I have to taste you.”
I pulled my dress over and slowly shifted my black lace panties to the side.
I could feel the coldness of his nose touch my clit.
The way he licked me, slow and deep.
I had to watch every second.
With each wet kiss, I thought I would cum.
Holding my hips he leaned me over.
His hands clutching my ass cheeks.
Facing out the back window, I gazed down the avenue.
The street lights seen to twinkle was he buried his face into my cunt from behind.
I could see all the people on the sidewalks and alleys.
The tint was so dark no one knew what was happening to me.
This aroused me even more.
His tongue was so warm.
The way he consumed me.
He was so greedy.
I had to cum
This was amazing.
First in the club and now this.
The was no silent scream this time.
“I AM CUMING!”
My lungs full of air, I screamed.
“MAKE ME CUM!”
I turned around and pushed my pussy right into his mouth.
“I AM CUMING!”
I felt my juices pour out into his waiting mouth.
Exhausted and limp, I slid down the seat.
He looked at me and smiled.
I had to kiss him.
The urge to taste me in his mouth was too great.
“Take me home, I am tired.” I said in a low voice.
He put my fingers in his mouth.
The way that sweet boy took my finger into his mouth to soothe me.
“What ever you want,” he whispered.
“Thank you,” I replied.
It was late and I was happy to be home.
As I closed my front door, I thought to myself.
“What a good time”.
~Helena
