Come...Get Me...

It had been several years since Jazz and Angela's secret rendezvous. She felt, in a way, that she had a deep, unexplainable love for Angela, and it wasn't reciprocated. Since then she thought very often about women, most of the time staring and allowing her mind to wander as they walked past her, admiring the view. But her thoughts quickly turned to anger and frustration. Angry because love always had a sinister way of creeping up on her when she least expected it, embracing it, only to have it slap her in the face, knock her down, crawling on her knees, helpless...hurt...ashamed. Frustrated because she considered herself unworthy of unconditional love. All of the love she gave in the past left her with a sour taste in her mouth. Who needs love, she thought. I can damn sure do bad by myself. I don't need another motherfucker trying to punch more holes in my heart.

For all of these reasons, Jazz has retreated into herself. She refuses to let anyone else in. She would rather have a one night stand then waste her time with feelings. That's how people get caught up, and hurt. Since her relationship with Jeremiah ended almost 2 years ago, and communication with Angela ceased, she vowed to never let anyone else close to her heart. Her heart is fragile, liable to crack at any moment. So instead of looking for love, Jazz has "victims." Victims are the men and women she preys upon, for her own sexual satisfaction. Jazz has an insatiable sexual appetite, and it needs to be fed from time to time. Of course, she can please herself in many ways, but sometimes her cravings are for things she can't do for herself, so she seeks, she finds, she seduces...she gets what she wants.

Jazz is a loner. She goes out alone, shops alone, eats alone, sleeps alone. Of course, she has friends, but they don't know anything about her cravings, or her extracurricular activities. They would most likely label her crazy. On this particular night, Jazz was dressed in silver stilletto sandals, black capri pants, and a white, very fitting shirt that not only showed off her figure 8, but accentuated her bosom in such a way that you had no choice but to lick your lips upon first glance. She stood in front of her mirror admiring herself. With just the right touch of make-up, Jazz knew she looked good. She was tired of sitting in the house, so she decided to go out to see what trouble she could get into.

Jazz stepped into the night air and just started walking. Since she lived in the city, it wasn't necessary for her to drive all the time. She did own a vehicle, however, she preferred to walk to avoid parking fees. Plus, walking allowed her to clear her mind, adopt positive thoughts...focus. After walking a few blocks, Jazz came across a bar she never noticed before. "Entice" it was called, nbright red neon lights. Just the name alone made her curious, so she stepped inside. It was a nicely decorated spot, a plush bar on one side and a lounge area with couches and tables on the other. The DJ was playing a mix of smooth R&B and jazz music, very soothing and relaxing. Once Jazz sat at the bar she ordered her favorite spirit, a french martini.

One of the first things Jazz noticed upon entering the bar were the patrons. There was an even mix of men and women, and even a lesser mix of attractive men and women. There were alot of short men in there, and Jazz learned, from her own experience, that short men just didn't have what it takes. They're just handicapped and they don't know it, Jazz realized. No more short men for her. The other men in the place just looked like they wanted to get away from their annoying, unsatisfying wives for the night. What's worse than a man who wants to get away from his wife, she thought. The institution of marriage is something Jazz will never understand, either spouse ends up cheating anyway. Jazz's eyes scanned the room, until they landed on a pair of black stillettos attached to these beautiful stems. Her legs were crossed, but Jazz could tell how winding they were, how strong they were, and she instantly wanted to kiss and lick them. Her eyes made their way up further, past the ample bosom, the long neck, the full, pouty lips colored in red, to the doe eyes resting on a caramel complexion. Wow, this woman is beautiful. As if on cue, the woman turned her head and looked directly at Jazz, who was by now staring at this woman. The woman looked away, grabbed her purse, stood up...started walking in Jazz's direction, all the while not breaking the gaze, and walked into the ladies room. Jazz followed her.

When Jazz entered the bathroom, her victim was standing in front of the mirror fixing herself. Their eyes met. Neither one of them breathed a word, just stared. Jazz slowly made her way to her victim, stood behind her, lips a hair away from her neck...breathed. The woman moaned a little. Jazz slowly and gently traced her hands along the womans side, to her breasts...squeezed...now kissing her neck, her tongue, grazing her ears, pelvis grinding into the womans derriere...they melted into each other. The woman turned around and placed her lips on Jazz's, sucking with enough pull to send a shock to Jazz's tiny mound...heaven. They stood there and kissed for what seemed a lifetime, each second creating a moist pocket in Jazz's center. The woman had on a short skirt...easy access. Jazz placed her hand in between the womans leg and felt the juicy peach the woman was offering her. They both moaned. It had been so long since Jazz was with a woman, she was overwhelmed at this moment. Jazz lifted the woman onto the sink, her legs straddling Jazz's waist. They grinded into each other more, each pulse more intense then the previous, heavy breathing, cries of anticipated pleasure. Jazz unbuttoned the womans shirt, taking a moment to admire those two globes staring at her. They were beautiful. She took one in her hand and sucked, gently, enough to make the woman grab Jazz by the back of her neck. While Jazz was suckling and caressing these breasts, the other hand was working the middle, with movements she knew all too well. She knows how to please a woman, its like riding a bike. She stuck her finger into the black hole and reached the g-spot...the woman almost screamed, begging her not to stop. Jazz worked her until she creamed on her finger, which turned Jazz on even more. She couldn't take it anymore, so Jazz dove deep into that canal and fed herself what she'd been missing.

It was moist, wet, like an ocean wave crashing on the beach. It was sweet, juicy, sang a melodius tune and Jazz played the harmony. Jazz was in paradise, eating the forbidden fruit of Adam and Eve, only she wasn't going to hell for it. Jazz had an itch in her belly and this woman gave her permission to scratch it. Her pussy tasted wonderful, it was on fire. Jazz licked and sucked on this pussy like a dog drinking water from a bowl. The woman found it very hard to keep her composure. Suck my pussy...suck my pussy she shouted. She pushed Jazz's head further into her pussy and her hips rotated to Jazz's tongue. The white honey Jazz awaited flooded her mouth, the woman crying out in complete joy. This session was now over. Jazz got up, fixed her herself, and walked out of the bathroom. It was a coincidence that no one walked in; even if they did...oh well, they would have gotten an eyeful. Jazz left her victim in the bathroom, cold, and alone. Until next time....