Jazz club

 
The trumpet screams, echoing across the room
the symbols clanged buzzing for the next beat.
She drinks her wine and listens to the men play while she taps her feet.

Swanky and dim the perfect place for her to unwind.
She comes here all the time. She never sits in the same place, would hate for someone to remember her face.

The set changes and lights go low, She knows what’s to follow.  The shadow of a man clinging to his instrument. She waits for the sound, that gentle smooth bellow.

Sexy is how she describes it, the saxophone. Lips placed  gently, the fingers changing the tune,  hips swaying making sweet sultry music.

The music turns her on . Temptation playing along to the tempo. Her heart beats to the bass, slowly her thighs separate.
 
The musician arches back hitting those long notes.  That’s her key, she slides her hand slowly under the table. Feeling her self saturated, Panty free.

Running her fingers up and down. The feeling  electric, the music tantalizing her.  Flushed and hot she continues to touch and watch.

Exploding silently, she never makes her self seen. Her climax rushes all over her seat. She grins and looks around feeling unwound.  She comes for the music and the peace, but mostly the sweet release.