The room was heavy filled with the smell of smoke, alcohol, sweat and a miasma of heavy perfume and cologne. It was dark; you could see the city lights through the open windows. Blue lights shown on the band, with a soft yellow spotlight in the center that enveloped them all. Crowded, loud. The band was playing hot. Fast jazz swing and sultry, slow torch songs. Their following had grown and grown over the past few years and she loved to watch them perform. She was always in the crowd. They could count on it.
She would stand close to the bandstand and sway to the music: always with a drink in her hand, something hard and straight. The dance floor tonight was in a renovated ballroom where the dance floor “floats.” The floor had a bounce, a give, a feeling like it was alive and a part of the dance.
The bodies pressed against her, the floor moved with an up and down motion that was caused by the crowd. She could feel the heat radiate from the close packed, moving bodies. She anticipated.
She intently watched the crowd, looking for the one. Every evening the band played, she would find the one that would help her in her search to be filled and consumed by the music. This band’s music was her life and she helped make the music. The man she was looking for could usually be found at the edges of the crowd, standing alone, and also watching. It was someone who was also consumed by the music. She scanned the crowd and the band watched her, waiting.
While she danced with the men who asked her, she would try to find him while she did the fast pace swing steps. Watching her dance was easy. She made everyone who danced with her look better, smoother, than they were. She helped them to become the dance, just as she was. Her hair flew behind her in a sheath of gold; her skirt swirling around her in soft waves of color.
By the middle of the second set, she had found him, just as she always found him. Tonight he was a man in his forties, dark brown hair mixed with some gray. Slender and just the right height for her needs, he was wearing soft, worn jeans and a black tee shirt with a fitted sport's coat. He was intently watching the band and her. His hips followed the rhythm of the beat. She danced one more swing number, keeping her eye on him, smiling and letting him know that she saw him seeing her. It was the last tune of the set. As the number ended, she pushed her hair back to fall over her shoulders and went to the bar for a drink. He watched her and then she disappeared into the crowd.
At the beginning of the last set of the night, the band started a slow twelve bar blues. She was back at the bar and she took a sip of her drink. Searching the crowd, she found that he was looking at her. She smiled, walked to him and took his hand and led him towards the stage. The sound was so loud it was difficult to talk. If she had her way, she would not need to say a word to him. They would communicate through the music, through the dance.
She put her drink down on the bandstand and started to dance in front of him. Her skirt swirled around her and softly touched him. She was close enough that he could smell the sweat scent of her perfume and the smell of her heat. She reached out and took his hands and led him to her beat. The crowd enclosed them and held them close together. She held their clasped hands to her hips and moved from side to side against his body. The dance floor moved with them creating a wave of its own. She could see the band and they could see her. Just as she suspected, he moved with her and against her with the music. She took up the rhythm of the sax and he chose the bass and they moved to the same beat at different speeds, their bodies touching and moving against each other, from them and from the dance floor. The floor was alive beneath them, making it apart of them.
She twirled under their clasped hands and ended up with her back against him, she could face the band and still dance with him. She caught the eye of the sax player. She knew he would be a player with them. He smiled and then watched her intently as he began to play for her. She leaned into her dance partners heat and drew his hands to her hips and slid them underneath her loose fitting top to her breasts. He nestled his nose into her hair just above her ear and she could feel the heat of his breath and the beat of his heart. His hands molded her breasts under her blouse. His thumbs found her nipples and lightly rubbed them with his thumbs to the beat of the music. They grew as he made them erect and hard. She opened the front clasp on her silk bra and put his hands against her moist skin. His hands were hot and hard, but smooth against her skin. She moaned as he lightly pinched and tugged on her nipples. The wetness was flowing in her center. He was very hard behind her and she arched herself against him.
