Lonely NIght

Jazz was sitting on the living room couch just staring out of the huge loft window, watching the bright lights of the city invite her into their world. It was a comfortable spot on the couch, the spot she sits in when she's in the mood for self-love, which is quite often. As a matter of fact, her right hand was gently placed on top of her left breast, her fingers running circles around the sensitive part of her nipple. This was quite comforting to Jazz, and she continued with her ritual, still staring out of the window. She breathed in, nice and easy, let it out, squeezing her breast.

Jazz was unaware of the little distractions going on around her. The grandfather clock in the hall ticking...tick...tock...tick...tock. The taxicabs on the streets around her building honking their horns. The bright twinkling stars in the night sky. The microwave that kept beeping every 30 seconds to let her know her food was ready. She was too engrossed in herself. Why have a man to "do his business" when you know what you want, and can give yourself what you want, she thought. Its the best of both worlds. By this time, Jazz and her fingers made their way to the sweetest center, moist and juicy from her self-love. A man would really appreciate her and what her body is telling her at this moment. She started to trace small circles around her pink mound, little flicks of her finger sending shots of pleasure to her spine, her hips slowly gyrating to her own beat. She licked her lips, moaned only so she could hear. One finger made its way into the eye that weeps most when best pleased, her breathing getting heavier and faster. A second finger made its way in, intensifying her desire to reach her peak.

Jazz's legs opened wider. Her pink button was on fire now, swelling up from the intense action Jazz knew so well. SHIT!!!! For a second Jazz thought she passed out, her body convulsing and shivering from her anticipated explosion. There were beads of sweat on her forehead, her breathing erratic. She needed a moment to gain her composure. Eyes open, she reached for a tissue on the table behind the couch to wipe the sweat. When she finally moved out of her favorite spot, she saw a pool of "wet" on her leather couch. Wow, she thought, I shot it out again. No man has ever brought her to that point. She was too tired and spent to think about why, so she just cleaned it up and decided to go out. I wonder what the city nightlife will bring me tonight, she thought. Until next time.....