Blame It on the Bossa Nova

"Tall and tan and young and lovely, the girl from Ipanema goes walking, and when she passes, each one she passes goes Ahhh….." I croon, singing on the top of my lungs as I cruise down the boulevard, oblivious to the traffic swirl around me.

"When she walks just like a samba, that swings so cool and sways so gently, that when she passes, each one she passes goes Ahhhh" I wail even louder. Rounding a corner, I pull up to the stop light, tapping the steering wheel in time with the Bossa Nova beat of the jazz music blasting in my car.

"Ohhhhh, but he watches so sadly…….." I belt out, head bouncing, "Hooooowww….can he tells her he looooves her……" I go on swaying to the music, my shoulders swinging to the bossa nova beat.

"Yes……..he would give his heart GLADLY….." I whack the steering wheel with my palm. "But each day when she walks to the sea, she looks straight ahead not at HE"……..

I glance to the side and notice a shiny new convertible, top down, next to me. I continue serenading myself, paying no regard to the car next to me.

"Ohhhhh but he sees her so sadly….How can he tell her he loves her…..YES he would give his HEART gladly, but each day as she walks to the sea, she looks straight ahead not at HE".

I barely notice the young man sitting in the car next to me, be he certainly notices me. He watches my "performance" shaking his head and laughing to himself.

So caught up am I in the music, the melodious notes of the Gilberto/Getz/Jobim tune fully engaging me, that I am totally unaware that anyone could possibly be watching me.

The light turns green and I’m off. Pedal to the metal, I speed down the highway, the music as my navigator. The jazz saxophone surrounding me within the confines of my private concert hall, I am taken to a time and place far away from the rigors and troubles of today.

As I glance in the rearview mirror, I see the convertible behind me, several car lengths back. "Oh, so he wants to play chicken with me, does he?" I think to myself as I speed up slightly.

The next song begins on the stereo and I am swept away into the sounds.

"Quiet nights of quiet stars………quiet chords from my guitar…floating on the silence that surrounds us…" I sing loudly, uninhibited. I notice the car behind me gaining on my lead but think nothing of it at this point and continue my concerto.

"Quiet thoughts and quiet dreams, quiet walks by quiet streams, and the window that looks out on Corcovado, oh how LOVELY…" I wail, dancing in the car seat to the bossa nova beat. The music has me in its melodic grip and I slow the car down to savor the sounds.

It had been a rough few weeks for me. I had assumed the management of a new area within my department and the work was harrowing. I used the 30 minute commute from my office as a means of escape.

Having soothing, Brazilian jazz music blasting on my car stereo was a welcome respite from the stress and hassles of the day. I loved singing along to the music, even though half of the songs were in Portuguese, which I ritually butchered, as I sang along.

I had no idea that I had caught the eye of anyone in my pursuit of some down time. The car behind me was now on my tail, and I was starting to get a little bit ticked. "Must he tailgate me so closely?" I say out loud, annoyed.

I see the intersection coming up and slow down to a stop as the light turns red. Mr. Convertible does not. BAM, WHACK. Into my rear bumper he goes.

I jerk forward hitting the steering wheel, and get slammed back into the seat.

I throw open the door to inspect the damage and make sure Mr. Convertible is okay. The front end of his car is firmly affixed to the back bumper of mine. The driver puts his car in reverse to release it from my car.

Strangely, there is no damage to his car, not even a scratch. However, the back bumper of my car is wedged under the back tires of my car. There is no way I can drive the car any farther without stripping the tires to shreds.

The driver of the car jumps out and approaches me.

"I am SO SORRY" he announces, nervously, a distinct southern accent evident in his speech. "Are you okay?" he asks.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing" I reply. "I’m fine, but my car is a mess" I add, pointing to the tangled mess that used to be the back bumper of my car. "What the heck is your car made out of, military grade steel?" I ask him, my eyebrows raised.

"I cannot believe there’s not so much as a scratch on your front bumper!" I add.

"I don’t know what it’s made out of, but Ma’am I sure am sorry!" he says, looking for my forgiveness.

The shock of the fender bender wears off quickly as I realize I am fine and so is the driver of the car that hit me.

The driver is tall, handsome and young, almost half my age. He speaks once again.

"Are you sure you’re okay?" he asks me, his eyes searching mine.

"I’m a little shaken, but I’ll be fine". I answer curtly. "I suppose we should exchange insurance numbers, call the police to report this mess and call for a tow truck" I tell him plainly.

We exchange insurance information and file the report. While we wait for the tow truck, we begin to chat casually.

He introduces himself to me, extending a hand for me to shake.

"My name is "Clayton" but, you can call me "Clay" he says with a smile.

"You were really enjoying whatever you were listening to in your car back there" he tells me.

"I was?" I answer, surprised.

"Yeah. I saw you way back at Foothill, singing and dancing away. Must be pretty special music to get that kind of response" he quips.

"Well, I can tell you it wasn’t hip hop I was listening to" I snip at him a little annoyed that he’d intruded into such a private moment of mine. He winks at me and gives me a sly smile.

"Hmm……" I begin to think, this guy’s interesting….

The tow truck arrives and my car is hooked up. I make several calls to friends and family on my cell phone trying to find a ride home, but no one answers. The tow truck attendant informs me that due to insurance liability, he cannot let me ride in his truck.

"So I’m stuck here??" I almost yell at him.

Clay takes me by the shoulder.

"I’ll take you home, don’t worry about it" he says warmly.

"I appreciate that" I tell him, looking at his sparkling green eyes.

Not wanting to leave too many personal belongings in my car as it’s towed away, I walk over to my car to remove the CDs I was listening to put them into my handbag to keep them with me.

I slide into the passenger side of Clay’s car, and he drives off, the wind in my hair, the sounds of the street buzzing past my face.

"So, you didn’t answer my question" Clay begins once again.

"What were you listening to in the car…" he asks once again.

"Bossa Nova music" I tell him, fully expecting to have to launch into a full description and history of the Bossa Nova beat.

"Oh, you mean like Stan Getz, and Antonio Carlos Jobim?" he asks

"Yes!" I say, amazed he knows it.

"that’s great stuff" he says animated.

"I know. I love it. I feel like I am transported to a different place and time when I listen to it" I say.

"Well, you sure looked like you were in another place back there" he giggles.

"If you only knew…." I think to myself.

"You hungry?" Clay asks.

"Well, maybe a little" I answer, slightly dazed and confused.

"How about if I treat us to dinner?" he asks me.

"That would be nice" I tell him, trying to display a sense of calm.

I study the line of his profile as he drives us along the highway. It’s a strong profile, sexy, inviting.

"Do you mind terribly if we order something and have it delivered to my apartment?" he queries watching my face for my reaction, quickly adding "My ex girlfriend has been following me lately and I don’t want to give her any new leads into my daily routine". He explains cautiously.

I nod my acknowledgment and he pulls out his cell phone to place an order with a local Italian restaurant.

We arrive at his apartment and he graciously escorts me inside. The apartment is nicely furnished, and tastefully decorated in warm amber tones.

Clay leads me to the sofa and motions for me to sit down. The doorbell rings a few minutes later and our dinner has been delivered.

Clay brings the food over to the sofa and places it on the coffee table in front of us. Relaxed and comfortable, we share the dinner and continue our chat.

"I saw you take the CDs you had in your car with you" Clay mentions.

"Yes, I did" I answer, focusing now on the forkful of pasta about to be shoved into my mouth.

"Mind if we put on of those CDs on?" He asks.

"No, not at all" I offer. I grab the three CDs from my handbag and give them to Clay.

He looks at each, then gets up and puts one on his CD player in the wall unit next to the sofa.

The sensuous music fills the room, the jazz saxophone surrounding us with a wall of beautiful, moving sound.

"That’s really gorgeous" Clay mentions as the music encircles us, inviting us in.

"Would you like to dance with me?" he asks.

I laugh a little, thinking he couldn’t be serious.

"Really, would you like to dance?" he asks me again, extending his hand to me.

I take his hand and he pulls me close to him, holding me taut against his body, as we sway and move with the Bossa Nova beat. My heart is racing so hard I think it will jump out of my chest.

Clay’s hand gently runs up and down my back, stopping at my waist, then moving back up to my shoulders and neck.

His face is parallel to mine, his breath like falling leaves on my neck and ear. He turns his face to gaze into my eyes seductively, still holding me in his arms, slowly moving to the beat of the music.

His fingers skim the back of my neck, trailing the wisps of my hair as it falls on the nape of my neck.

Moving up, his hand gently cradles the back of my head as he pulls my face closer to his. We are cheek to cheek, slowly swinging to the music, our bodies molded into one another, a duet of movement, cultivated by the melody filling the room.

Clay turns his face to me and kisses me on the lips, softly, then again with more depth.

My lips part instinctively, allowing his tongue the chance to begin to taste and dance with mine. Swirls of motion within the sweet kiss and by our bodies sweep me away as I return his kisses with ardent fervor.

His kisses consume me as my body begins to feel flushed with fever.

Clay’s hand on my back makes its way down to my buttocks, as he kneads the soft flesh of my bottom through the fabric of my skirt.

His hand weaves its way up and under my skirt, softly playing with the elastic of my panties.

Clay pulls me closer into his body and holds me tightly against him. The music continues its soft seductive magic as he slips his hand into my panties.

I am soaking wet through to my panties, unable to conceal my arousal.

He kisses me again, his tongue exploring my mouth, seeking out the warmth and wetness, circling my tongue, entangling it in web of desire.

His kisses continue to storm my senses, unyielding to my need to breathe, with intensity and passion.

Holding me tightly, Clay dips me slowly backward in slow rhythm with the music, until I am laying on the sofa, his upper body laying on top of mine.

He raises my hands above my head as he clasps them into his. Continuing to shower me with his kisses, he pins my hands down over my head with one hand.

Delivering soft wet kisses to the inside of my neck, trailing up to my ear and back down to my mouth, Clay seduces my senses, my hungry lips devouring his.

His free hand fingers the buttons of my blouse, loosening each button in time with the seductive music.

My nipples harden as his fingers wind their way over them, circling each through the silky material of my bra.

His fingers enter the bra cup to lightly flick my hardened nipple and pinch it softly, turning the pinch into a smooth rolling motion.

My mound begins warm intensely in response to his manipulation of my aroused nipple.

Clay continues his seductive dance with his hands, as he pushes the blouse from my shoulders.

Lifting me up slightly, he frees me of the bra and drops both the blouse and bra to the floor. He releases my pinned hands from the sofa where they were being held captive, and I immediately wrap my arms around his neck.

He then cups both breasts in his warm hands, fingering the nipples with his thumbs, rubbing them softly, the friction making them harden again sharply.

Kissing me deeply, his lips lingering at my lips, he runs his hand down under my skirt and pulls my soaking wet panties off of my bottom.

The lips of my mound are swollen and hot, the dampness trickling from within. Clay’s hand does a dance up and down the soft flesh of my inner thigh.

Squeezing and caressing the skin with sweeping motions, his fingers creep slowly toward loves gate. He lowers his head, placing soft kisses on my neck, breasts, nipples and naval.

His mouth trails down past my naval and land softly on my inner thigh. He peppers the inside of my upper thigh with sweet baby kisses, edging ever so closely to my throbbing mound, but never touching it.

Just as I think I will go insane in a frenzy of unquenched desire, he slithers his fingers inside my swollen gates coming to rest on my engorged love button.

With slow spiral motion, he stimulates my clit, back and forth, over the tip of my pulsating knot, and back around it in slow circular motion.

Over and over, he fingers my sex button until I feel the muscles within my thighs tighten as the climax starts to build.

He continues to sweep his fingers back and forth over my nub, rolling it gently, pulling at the hood and releasing it quickly, but never ceasing or slowing down the tempo of his movements.

I quiver and spasm underneath his hand, reaching my climax in a blizzard of white hot passion.

The sensual music continues to fill the air, a perfect backdrop to the erotic seduction playing itself out in the warmth of the room.

I am unaware of any other entities or objects in existence at that very moment, except Clay, the music, the glowing amber tones of the room and my heated passion.

Swirls of notes surround us, enveloping us in its chasm of sound, drawing us in, taking us to a faraway place. Clay gazes into my eyes, full of longing, speaking to me without words.

We kiss, tongues entwined, lips searching for comfort as they press softly and rub slowly against each other.

In between the sweet, lurid kisses to my lips, neck and breasts, Clay hums to the music, his hands running through my hair and framing my face, in perfect rhythm with the music, making me drown in the essence of the moment.

His hums turn to words, as he softly sings along with the song. "O grande amor"….he whispers into my ear……..

I melt immediately, turning into a puddle of goo at the sounds, the jazz saxophone filling in the gaps with a series of captivating notes.

Taking his cue from the music, Clay eases me down from the sofa onto the floor.

Moving in unison, we embrace each other, Clay exploring the curves of my body with his hands, finally removing my skirt in one last act of wantonness.

His lips follow his hands in close pursuit. We roll onto a soft sheepskin rug placed in front of the fireplace, softly landing there as I feel the soft fuzzy fabric tickling my bare back and buttocks.

Clay lays on top of me carefully, half of his body entangled with mine, the other half leaning into the rug.

His hands resume their roaming and exploration of my body, starting with my neck, the palm of his hand flatly placed on the crook of my neck curling his fingers as if strumming a guitar, his lips tracing closely in his finger’s path.

The small wet kisses and the roughness of his tongue make me twitch slightly as he scatters his kisses on my neck enticingly.

His fingers wind downward resting on my nipples, now hard with arousal. As if playing a guitar, he pulls the nipple between his fingers and flicks it delicately, repeating the maneuver until I moan uncontrollably.

With increasing pressure, he manipulates my nipple until I cry out.

"Oooohhhhh…….my………gawd……." I moan, pushing my chest into his, grabbing his neck and pulling his face to mine, kissing him deeply, thrusting my tongue into his mouth.

His fingers continue their trek toward ravaging my breasts as he begins to roll the rock hard nipple slowly between his fingers.

His mouth lowers to my breast, taking the nipple into his mouth and sucking it deeply. I gasp for air and moan again.

"Uhhggg….." I cry out, my hands sweeping through his hair as he kisses, sucks and licks my nipple.

I heave my chest upwards toward him with each deep kiss he places on my nipple.

The moisture between my legs has increased once again and has provided a perfect environment for the roving fingers of my paramour.

As if perfectly scripted, Clay’s hand creeps down to grip and skip across my inner thigh, his fingertips skimming the soft skin making me shiver in response.

His mouth soon follows his fingers, switching positions of seduction with his hands.

He grasps my nipple with his fingers once again as his lips and tongue ride across my inner thighs.

Sliding his body off of mine, placing himself between my parted legs, he starts to kiss and trail the tip of his tongue on the skin of my inner right thigh.

I wiggle as he kisses and flicks his tongue against my thigh, his fingers never letting up on rolling my rock hard nipple.

As before, he induces my sex to burn with desire, never once touching the dripping wet mound with either his hands or mouth.

My love nub is throbbing, my tunnel slick and aching to be filled. I mutter and moan, wiggle and writhe in agony underneath him.

Not finished with making me ache for his touch, he kisses, licks and flicks the supple skin of my upper left thigh in succession, then alternates back to my right thigh.

"Pleaaaaasssseeeee……oh gawd……pleaassseeeee." I beg him as he squeezes the nipple between his fingers harder, rolling it back and forth with even more rapid tempo while ravishing my inner thighs with his lips and tongue.

This stimulation, combined with the feeling of his facial stubble scratching against my inner thighs is almost too much for me to bear.

My mound is pulsating, wanting release, receiving none.

Clay goes back to humming softly with the music, in between licks and kisses planted on my thigh. He looks at me with his sly eyes, knowing full well that he is driving me insane with his behavior.

Sliding himself back up and on top of me, he kisses my mouth quickly, shoving his tongue deeply into my mouth, pressing his entire body into mine with a potent force.

I feel as though I am being pulled feet first into a dark, deep abyss of sensual arousal.

"Do you want me to make love to you?…" he whispers breathlessly into my ear.

"Oh, yes….yes…." I murmur back, my breathing shallow, rapid and ragged.

"How much do you want me to make love to you…?" he teases, his hand now resting on my hot, wet mound, while kissing me and brushing his stubble ridden face against the side of my face, his hot breath flowing like jets onto my neck.

His lips search for mine once again, and finding them, he sucks them into his as our lips lock in a inflamed kiss.

He breaks away from the kiss abruptly, making my head fall back onto the soft rug suddenly. He anchors himself to the floor by leaning on one elbow at an angle to my side.

I glance down to see the incredible bulge knocking at his trouser’s door.

With Clay’s body lifted from mine, and slightly leaning to the side, I have easy access to undress him.

I reach up to his shirt and begin to unbutton it slowly. He kisses my forehead lightly as I set free each button, one by one.