Jazz

Ben knew this sax player named Bill McHenry and he had a bass player and drummer and we started doing gigs together.

My dream was to get a gig at Birdland where Charlie Parker and Dizzy played. Bill thought I should make a record and he knew a guy at a small label called Blue Note. So we got him to hear us at a club and he said I had what it takes so we went into the studio to cut a record. Bill was an amazing player and it was like he had absorbed all the sax players before him.

During one of our breaks at the studio, Bill said he had some cocaine and would I like to try it. I said why not and while Ben went out to get a sandwich or something, we went into the bathroom and he showed me how to do it and I'll never forget that first time-- how intense it was and how hot it got me. I just wanted to fuck and so did Bill. He locked the door and he lifted me on the sink with the mirror in back of me and pulled off my panties, spread my legs and rammed his cock into me, putting his hand over my mouth so no could hear me screaming. It didn't take long for both of us to explode in huge wild orgasms. It was like we raped each other it was so intense.

I didn't know what to feel when Ben came back. I tried acting like nothing had happened but knew I had to keep my cheating on him a secret. I hated how that felt and started thinking about my body and how I needed freedom to be me and not belong to anyone. I knew I loved Ben and didn't want to hurt him but I liked what I did with Bill and suddenly realized I should be able to fuck who ever I wanted. I wanted to be in charge of my life. I didn't love Bill but I liked fucking him in the bathroom. I liked how it felt to get high on coke and fuck and knew I wanted to feel free.

The rest of the session went well and ironically I sang that great Berlin song, "Always." You know, "I'll be loving you always. With a love that's true, always."



It took me a few days before I got up the guts to tell Ben how I felt about needing freedom and npot wanting to belong to anyone. I didn't tell him about Bill and the coke cause I didn't want to break up our act—it's not easy to find a pianist like Ben and we were so in a groove.

I knew that more than anything I wanted to be a jazz star and I wasn't going to let anything get in the way. I felt determined and strong and knew I didn't want to end up like my mom.

Ben saw the change in me and we had long talks. I said he should fuck other women and I wanted to fuck other guys if I felt like it. He didn't get it. He didn't want to share me and he didn't want any other woman. I told him I loved him like crazy and just 'cause I fucked another guy didn't have anything to do with my relationship with him. It was just fucking. He tried to tell me I was wrong and it wasn't moral and I said that was bullshit. I said I was being honest and it was better to have an open honest relationship than a fake dishonest one because of society's rules. What the fuck was morality any way?

Finally I had to tell him about fucking Bill in the bathroom and the coke and he just looked at me stunned. I could have kept that a secret but I wanted to be completely honest and took the chance that we could break up. It broke my heart to hurt Ben and realized how much I really loved him but I had to be honest with myself first or I could never be honest with anyone or with my singing.

When he slumped back in his chair and I saw the pain in his eyes, I went to him and sat down on the floor between his legs. I felt so much for him and wanted to show him.

I put my hand on his cock and started rubbing it. He didn't budge but just sat back but I moved my hand up and down wanting to give him pleasure and hoped he wouldn't stop me and storm out. At first, he started to move away but I could feel his cock getting hard and lay back in the chair making soft moaning sounds. I wanted to seduce him and the harder he got, the hotter I got. I unbuttoned his jeans, pulled down the zipper and put my hand on his hard cock, gripping it, feeling the throbbing pulse. I was wearing a short denim skirt, no panties and could feel how wet I was but this was about him. I licked his cock from his balls to his tip moving my tongue up and down, feeling him squirming and then when I put my lips over the sensitive head, his moaning got me hungrier and he suddenly grabbed my head forcing me to swallow more and more of his cock.

He started thrusting, wrapping my hair in his fingers, pulling my hair, lifting his ass off the chair and started really fucking my mouth. I could feel his fierceness like something powerful was taking over.

Suddenly he grabbed me and lifted me from the floor, getting me to straddle his legs and then pulled me down hard on his cock, impaling me, holding my ass and rammed his cock in me with more energy than I had ever felt. He then gripped my hips and held me in place so I couldn't move while he thrust up, going deeper with each powerful hard thrust.

"Come on Fuck me! Fuck me!" he shouted and I could hear his rage and feel his strength as he filled me with his mad thrusts. He then picked me up, lifting me by the ass, carried me across the room and slammed me against the wall, my legs wrapped around him and he pounded me faster and harder, banging me against the wall screaming, "Fuck me you little whore. Give me your cunt you fucking bitch!"

He rammed his cock, driving me into the wall with each thrust then suddenly he pushed me, practically throwing me to the floor, grabbing my legs, pulling them over his shoulders and drove his cock into me, opening me like never before with his savage thrusts pounding me faster and harder. He looked into my eyes and yelled, "You're mine. You're mine! You belong to me!"



I suddenly pulled my legs from his grip and started kicking him away. "No I'm not! Get off of me you bastard! I don't belong to anyone!"

I squirmed under him, kicking as hard as I could, trying to get away, determined to be in control and not his or any one's.

I tried getting to me knees to crawl away but he grabbed my legs and then pounced on my back, his hard cock pressed against my ass while I kept squirming, struggling to get away, screaming "Let me go!"

"You're not going anywhere," he shouted and somehow managed to get his hand under me and grabbed my pussy, gripping it while he humped my ass. The more I squirmed and struggled to get away the tighter he held my pussy, pressing my clit against his hand. I felt so possessed. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to get away but I also wanted him to take me right there. "You're mine to fuck," he shouted.

He then lifted me to my knees, still holding my pussy and with his other hand slapped my ass hard. He kept spanking me harder and harder, his other hand rubbing against my pussy driving me insane. I wanted to shout for him to stop but couldn't. His slapping my ass hurt and excited me but his hand on my pussy, rubbing my clit made me insane and I suddenly shouted, "Fuck me bastard! I need your cock!"

"Tell me you're mine! Tell me!"

"No!" I shouted.

He then put the head of his cock on my pussy moving it up and down. He was leaning over me with his other hand still gripping my pussy. I was crazed and needed to cum but I wasn't going to give in.

"Tell me!" he yelled, rubbing my dripping pussy with his cock.

Suddenly he fell back on his legs, pulling me up to straddle his thighs, my legs wide apart. I lay back against his chest. He kept his hand on my pussy while his other hand grabbed my tit, gripping it roughly, rubbing my hard nipples, my ass pressed against his cock. I was out of my mind. This was beyond anything I had ever

experienced. I felt his rage and passion and wanted him to fuck me more than anything. I was desperate. I had to have it.

I lifted myself, grabbed his cock, getting it where I wanted it and came down hard while he thrust up going deep, filling me, my pussy gripping his cock, while his hand rubbed my clit. I screamed and knew I was going to explode and cum all over his cock.

"Come on, slut! Ride my cock! Ride it you bitch!" and yelled with each thrust then suddenly the most intense orgasm of my life swept over me and I convulsed again and again, my whole body shaking like an earthquake. He kept thrusting then suddenly, turned me and threw me violently onto my back and I screamed, "Take me! Take me! Fuck me! I'm yours—all yours! Take me!"

He looked down at me and without hesitating, thrust his cock deep and hard, fucking me savagely screaming, "Fuck me! Give me that tight cunt! Give it to me!" and kept thrusting harder and harder, faster and faster. I felt his whole body tensing and knew he was about to explode.

"Ohhhhhhhhh yeah I'm cummmmming! Just fuck me!" he yelled thrusting madly then his body went stiff and hot gushing cum shot deep into my pussy making me explode again in a wild orgasm—the most mind blowing orgasm of my life.

He collapsed on me, both of us panting and gasping and unable to budge. We lay on the floor next to the wall, weak and exhausted. After a few minutes, I wrapped my arms and legs around him and held him close, my tits crushed against his chest, his cock deep in me. I didn't want to think but gradually began to remember how this all started and how I wanted to be free yet here I was lying on the floor under him feeling so possessed and not sure how I felt.

He then got up, zipped up his jeans, grabbed his coat and left, slamming the door. I screamed, "Don't go! Don't go!" But he was gone and I lay there on the floor, sobbing, not knowing what to think, tears rolling down my cheeks. The thought of losing him ripped at my heart. I got up and went to the window to see if I could see him but all I saw was the crowded street below. I didn't know what to do and hoped he would come back but he didn't. I tried sleeping but kept waking up thinking I heard a sound at the door but it was never him, just my imagination.

We had the final recording session the next day at ten and I hoped he would show up. We also had a gig in two nights at a place called Joe's –a really hip jazz club and a really big break. It was even written up in The New Yorker and called me one of the new jazz singers to be watched.

When I got to the recording studio, Bill and the other guys were there but not Ben. We paced back and forth, looking up at the clock because every hour in the studio costs money. We had to finish today. I didn't say anything about what was

happening but I was questioning my decision to be independent of anyone, to be free to be with any man I wanted. I didn't want to need a man but right then I needed Ben to play the piano. I knew I had hurt him and he took his revenge out on fucking me like a demon and crazy as it sounds I liked it. I began wondering what was more important, my being a jazz star or having Ben and if not him, any man.

Finally, Ben showed up at the studio. I ran up to him to hug him but he brushed by me and went to the piano and said, "Okay guys, let's get this over with." It broke my heart to see him like this. He was always so sweet, gentle and funny but he was all business and hardly looked at me.

The number we did was one of my favorites, "Our Love is Here to Stay." It's funny how my favorite songs were always about eternal love, you know, "Always" and now, singing,"It's very clear our love is here to stay..." and here I was singing that song after telling Ben I want us to be free to fuck other people. I either needed to find other kinds of songs to sing and stop being so romantic but those were the songs I grew up with, the songs mom sang, the songs I needed to believe in if I was going to be honest.

When we did the session, I sang my heart out, looking at Ben when I said the words, "The Rockies might tumble, Gibraltar may crumble, they're only made of clay but our love is here to stay." He'd look at me then turned away while he played and I could feel his hurt and anger, still we made a great recording.

He played a solo that was so incredible I didn't know where it came from but I could feel his passion, the same that came out when we fucked so violently the night before and how he yelled, "You're mine!" But somehow, he played it so beautifully, so tenderly.

When we finished recording, he got up to leave and I tried to stop him at the door but he just looked at me and said, "I'll be your pianist but I won't take your bullshit" and he left.

Ben came over to me and asked what was that all about, but I didn't answer. He asked if I wanted to do some coke with him and hang out. I have to admit I was tempted. I wanted to get high and forget what was going on but said "No. I needed some space."

It was a cool spring day, I remember and I just wanted to walk around the Village and be alone. I felt good about the recording session and some of the gigs coming up but Ben's words about being my pianist but he won't take my bullshit kept going through my mind.

Then something happened when I was walking through Washington Square—a really amazing park where people played chess and kids climbed on the statues and all kinds of characters hung out. I was sitting on a bench and saw this old couple walking past me. They must have been in their seventies or eighties. They were holding hands and they seemed so contented and I imagined them being together for fifty years and I could feel their love and it made me think of the romantic songs I loved. They looked so beautiful together, so happy and I suddenly saw what was possible and then more than ever, I wanted to find Ben and tell him I wanted only him, I wanted his passion,imagination. I remembered how my mom sang those love songs but ended up alone, a drunk and unhappy.

I went to Ben's apartment over the bakery and when he opened the door I threw my arms around him and told him to forget what I said about wanting to fuck other men. I wanted our love to grow and I wanted to sing all those old songs and I wanted to sing them with him at the piano and that's what happened.

I never got real famous but made some good records and we got to play in some good jazz clubs all over the country and most important, I sang mom's songs because she couldn't.