Jazz Exhibition

Read in the event of auto erotic difficulty or for simple masturbatory assistance.

It is late September and it is a warm evening, not hot, but comfortably mild for early autumn. There is a full moon and a slight breeze. We are driving to a new jazz club to enjoy an evening alone listening to jazz and drinking wine.

We arrive at the club around 9:00 and traverse the parking lot toward the main entrance across the street. You endure the obligatory groping as we walk and I discover to my great pleasure that there are no panties under your short black mini skirt. While functionally more comfortable, I enjoy the thought that your bare ass and exposed mound are for my benefit. I give one last squeeze of your ass as we get to the door and we're in.

The club is dimly lit, not in a negative way, but in such a manner as to reflect a sultry uninhibited experience, one that allows the music to be the focus, not the décor. The carpet is a neutral earth tone color and it melts into the deeply colored wall paper and draperies that adorn the windows and booths.

Each booth is somewhat recessed into the wall with a semi circle bench seat at each table (much like the old circular tables at that Mexican place we like). The table clothes are a rich dark red and they hang about 14 inches below the table. The candlelit tables are inviting, private and cozy.

We take a table in the corner and order a bottle of white zin'. The band is an energetic yet smooth ensemble consisting of a base, piano, drum and saxophone. The piano player and drummer are nondescript. The bass player is lanky, unshaven in a beatnik kind of way with long hair and what looks like a cabbie hat resting on his head. The saxophone player is lean, muscular and tan. He sports sunglasses, I suppose, for dramatic effect.

The music is awesome. Some songs border on big band-type jazz while many are smooth and sensuous. We talk, joke, laugh and largely relax as we let the music work its magic. Soon you turn with your back to me and lean back against me. While you sip wine, I caress your shoulders and breasts. You smile warmly, but also look around reflecting that you are still cognizant of our public locale. Seeing other couples and groups in various positions of comfort and diverse stages of intimate embrace you relax and let the music, the wine and I treat you to an evening free of inhibitions.

As we enjoy more music and more wine we become more relaxed. While relaxed, I am unable to resist pursuing additional exploration of your body. After massaging your neck and shoulders for nearly fifteen minutes or at least for the duration of two songs and a saxophone solo that nearly brought the place to its feet, I slip a hand down your scoop neck top and massage your breasts occasionally gently rolling your nipples between my fingers. You moan softly and casually hike your skirt up a little. This signal is interpreted by me as a desire for more than your breasts to be treated to my hands. The aforementioned table cloth provides cover and privacy so I reach down and stroke your bare thighs. With each subsequent stroke my fingers travel higher on your thighs and your internal monologue is wondering why I am teasing you so.

With no intention of teasing you, I am resisting rapid progression against all my animal desires to throw you up on the table and fuck you wildly. I continue the gentle strokes and enjoy the building desire in us both. Eventually I find the upper most part of your leg, the area that is leg no more. I gingerly brush the hair of your pussy with my fingers. You respond by moaning and arching your back trying to raise your hips and pelvic area forcing my fingers to exert more pressure. I push against your pussy with my fingers and slowly follow the contour of your opening wetting my fingers with your juices. I withdraw my hand and lick my fingers. I linger to breathe deeply from them the scent I love most in the world.

The band begins a particularly lively tune and I take the cue to return to your moistened pussy. I part the lips and insert a finger into your pussy. I begin slowly moving it in and out. You are squirming. I partially withdraw and concentrate on rubbing your clit in a circular motion, then harder up and down. No longer squirming, you are intensely rocking up and down to meet my thrusts. I move faster and faster and faster again. As the music crescendos you let out a mild scream and quickly back it off to a muffled whimper as you soak my hand and your skirt (and the new upholstery).

The scene is repeated two or three more times throughout the evening and you are satisfied, a little tired, very relaxed, a little drunk and somewhat uncomfortable from soaking your skirt. You turn toward me and attack my mouth with yours and our tongues wrestle lustily for an eternity. We finish our wine and we head for the door after nearly two hours of great jazz and heavy petting. As we walk out the door you look around sheepishly begging me to block the view of the large wet spot on the back of your skirt.

At the car, you surprise me by dropping to your knees on the other side of the car, away from public view. You unzip my pants with such urgency and lust that my knees buckle. You remove my cock and attack it with a passion. Sucking aggressively at first, and then playfully flicking the head. After long licking strokes the length of the shaft you take it all in again as if you are daring me to hold back the river of cum that seeks to explode in your mouth. Not wanting it all to end that way I force you away and guide you over to the hood of the car.

With no one around, I lean you against the car, grab your legs at the backs of your knees and lift you legs exposing your pussy to the cool night air. I lean forward and bury my face in your pussy, eating you with all the energy and passion you showed in sucking my cock. I lick hard over your clit ... repeatedly. I flick and suck your clit ... repeatedly. I bury my face hard in your pussy and push my tongue forcefully in you pussy. I moan and hum and bring you to an orgasm that nearly drowns me and leaves a puddle by the tire.

As weak as your legs are at this point you get down and immediately turn around raising your skirt. You quickly look to ensure that no one is around and then you say, "Please fuck me, fuck me right now, right here. I need you so bad." I waste no time and I am in your pussy with my engorged cock. I am thrusting like a mad man and you cum immediately smacking the car and nearly denting it. You (far too loudly) lament that we have no K-Y because what you would really like is for me to fuck your ass.

As a former Boy Scout, I am always prepared and surprise you by preparing your asshole with K-Y and entering your ass. You rub your clit frantically while begging me to "stove-pipe" you and whimpering for me to fuck your ass. I have only pumped a half dozen times in you asshole when you explode with a river of cum that actually splashes on the ground. I can stand it no more and pump my load into your ass while spanking your ass cheeks and biting my lip. You cum again and the intensity has you seeing stars. I have to support most of your weight as you go limp and I withdraw from you ass.

We quickly get in the car and sit panting and embracing each other. We drive home in a daze. As we lay down to go to sleep when we get home you begin to rehash the evening and I am treated to another orgasm while fucking your pussy. I enjoy the extremely intense second orgasm and you nearly pass out from yet another.

The next morning we sleep in. We get to enjoy waking up together, lingering in bed. You playfully begin stroking me and then climb on top of me, riding me to a wonderful morning orgasm. We shower, lazily read the paper, and then go to Denny's for breakfast.YOU order the Lumberjack Slam. I know I did something right.