I sit here, quiet muddling my heart with a mixture of Johnnie Walker and slow jams. Melodies of past mistakes and heartbreaks rest atop my mind as I wallow in a pool of emotions. Drained and recovering I am now tipsy. Signaling for another, does this mean I am an alcoholic or depressed. I’m seeking refuge in an aged Scotch and hopefully, I can drown in more than brown liquor. Is it possible to fall to my death in pussy or find shelter between the thighs of a voluptuous woman with caramel complected lips? Is it too much to ask that breast be placed vigourously amongst my mouth that I am without a choice but to find delight in their savory and textured filled warmth? Back to Jazz and now Saxophones soothe me but the seductive waves of Bass entice me to not only to be firm but rub deep. Pleasing to not only the ear but the vibration erupts through delicate strokes, fingers flick causing a sudden hip thrust and now we find soft breaths saved for flutes and clarinets. Her embouchure perfectly crafted to blow at a nice and steady pace. The subtle pitter-patter of light summer rain taps the windows now adding to the sensory overload and scents begin to waft. Dimly Lit silhouettes flicker at the expense of the candles lights, moans begin to find a way into the composition, juicy exchanges begin to add a varied yet quite watery presence. Natural sounds mixed with artistry a masterpiece, another drink is the exact piece to excite. Now we are finding unchartered B-Sides exploring string quartets this is now a symphonic production and the conducting wand has decided that a climax is intended but not the beginning of this decrescendo. Intense blares from horns and snares a like. Its as if the pain of the past is pounding pleasure amongst the drums. Raspy voices and deep pants of relief are then followed but a rumble and roar, but slowly the sax soothes once more and the bass begins to strum and now that climax is being maintained, strummed along to stair step up once more. Soft voices become quaint and gnaw on any object adamant for its taking. She signals for another drink, so as to oblige, I fill her mouth with a marinated delicacy, Is it too much to remove the passion between our mouths and allow her back to a place of submissive grace? She rests her hands amongst my chest as to signal defeat but my mind has now decided that this piece does nothing without a complete blend of nature and reward. Sensually, she then is placed on my throne and the very place I asked if I could drown, is now taking me under and swiftly my thoughts of breathing leave. I a Her octaves become higher until we find her sweet melody dripping down my mouth in awe. Slowly she begins to quiver and at once the rain, light, and songs stand still.

-All That Jazz