The elegant jazz band serenaded the audience as they sipped their cocktails, danced with mates, or simply enjoyed the music.

In a booth sat an ebony beauty with her best friend chatting away. Encouraging her to step out onto the dance floor.

"There's nothing wrong with dancing with ya girl," she pressed. "Let's get out there."

She shook her head bashfully. "Nah, I'm alright."

"C'mon, enjoy the night. Forget about everything else," she encouraged.

"I'm fine, T," she assured. "Really. You enjoy yourself."

Tasha gave her a somber smile, before slipping out of the booth.

She watched on, noticing how little amount of time it took before a man waltzed up beside her best friend, asking for a dance. She giggled to herself at the exchange before, once again, getting lost in the music.

With the drums setting the tempo and smooth keys companied with the bass, it sent her mind in a state of serenity. Slowly, her eyes closed as she began to sway.

"Maybe you should have a dance with me," a smooth baritone spoke startling her.

She sat with her small palm clutching her chest. "Jesus, you scared the shit outta me."

His radiant smile was thrown her way as he chuckled. "I'm sorry. That was polar opposite of what I was intending."

"When trying to keep it smooth goes wrong," she playfully shot back.

"Yeah, maybe," he agreed. His gaze grew intense as he focused on her. Admiring every feature. From her natural curly hair, to her almond shaped hazel eyes, high cheekbones and plump lips. To her long neck and broad, athletic shoulders down to her full breasts. All he longed to see, at this point, was everything beneath the table.

His stare caused immense discomfort, yet she couldn't dismiss him. "What?"

"Dance with me..." he repeated.

She stared at him in thought, Tasha's statement ringing in her head. 'Enjoy the night. Forget everything else.'

"C'mon, you know you want to," he pressed, his tongue running along his bottom lip as he stared at her.

She sighed in defeat, "Just one song."

"That's all I need," he smiled, standing to his feet. He bowed slightly, asking for her hand. "My lady."

Placing her hand in his, those long digits encased hers as he pulled her to her feet. As he assumed she would be, thick, indeed she was.

The band eased into a steppers cut, causing more people to hit the dance floor.

"Can you step?" She whispered in his ear as they reached the center of the floor.

Within seconds he had her twirling around, until he spun her into him. As she spun out, he reached for her free hand, stepping to her with such grace.

Mere inches apart, he smirked. He leaned into her ear as they rocked side to side. "Can I step? Can't be from the Midwest and not know how. Am I right?" He leaned back just in time to catch her smile. "And there it is..."

One song became two, then 20 minutes, to currently an hour. With the band on a break, they were replaced by a DJ that was currently spinning Raheem DeVaughn's Is It Possible.

The duo remained in their trance, rocking together when the song switch to Anderson .Paak's Parking Lot.

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

"Can you swing?" He yelled over the music. Her confused expression let him know she hadn't heard caught a thing spoken. He pulled her close. "Follow my lead," he instructed.

He swung her with him in a circle as if they were children playing 'Ring Around the Rosie'. "Jump," he commanded.

Taking his instructions she lifted herself off the ground to have him grab her calves swinging them on the left side of his waist, then the right.

Eventually, her legs wrapped around his waist momentarily before she jumped down into a spin.

Having too much fun, neither noticed the circle that formed around the them as they both clapped along to the beat.

She began to do the twist into his direction, making him laugh hysterically before he copied her movements--until they reconnected.

"Remember to follow me," he beamed.

He kicked his foot out, as she mimicked him. They began at a slow pace, letting her catch the twists and turns. Something that seemed almost effortless for her. Little did he know, she was thinking of all the old swing dance clips she'd seen.

Once they ran it at full speed, she found herself regretting the dress of choice. She silently thanked God she chose the right undergarments, for her dress had ridden up to her waist.

By the end of the song, her back was to him, as he cradled her waist. Both were completely drained, attempting to catch their breathes.

The crowd around them erupted in applause, grabbing their attention. They separated to bow. As the song changed, the crowd disburse into their own worlds.

With grace, she adjusted her dress as he stood there, watching.

Once adjusted, she peered up at him. "I really enjoyed the dance."

"Going already?"

She nodded, "I'm sure, my homegirl is ready to leave."

"She's not here," he stated. "Skinny, long black hair. Dark blue dress, right? I saw her leaving with a guy."

Her face fell, "Dammit Tasha."

He chuckled lightly. "Was she your ride?"

"No, I drove."

He bit his bottom lip. "Well, have one more dance with me."

"One more," she warned. "Just one."

He'd taken her hand, leading her to a darker corner. He twirled her into the front him before wrapping his arm around her waist.

She swayed her hips to the tempo of the tune as he followed. She ground her backside into his front, increasing the friction that drove him into a frenzy.

His hands suddenly began to wander from her small waist to her wide hips. His grip tightened as he grooved with her. No attempts were made to hide his growing erection.

He wanted her to know his intentions...
How bad he wanted her...
What lengths he'd go to get her...

His lips found their way to her neck, showering it in delicate kisses. Slowly, he traveled up to her ear. "Come home with me, tonight."

She slowly shook her head, reaching to grasp his neck. She pulled him closer to her, causing him to suck her flesh.

"Let me make you feel good."

Again she declined.

"Let me take care of you."

"Why," she breathed.

He stood silently behind her, trying to find the words. "A queen like yourself deserves to be treated as such." He turned her head in his direction. "I'll take me time with you..."

Both, held wandering eyes. Both seemingly landing on the others lips. Still, he moved first. He wasted no time moving towards her, sealing the deal.

With lips in a slow dance, she realized there was no rush. No pressure. Detaching from him, she turned in his arms, resting her forehead on his as her hands caressed his face.

"Can I make you cum," he groaned.

Winded, she still managed to answer. "Yes..."

He clutched her hand, guiding her through the crowd. They landed at the coat check, where he insisted she wear his leather jacket. "It's chilly out," he told her.

Like a true gentlemen, he then walked her to her car. A 2016 BMW X1 SUV.

She placed her hand on the handle, causing it to unlock. "Fancy," he snickered as she rambled for her phone.

She scanned through the text messages, mainly from Tasha.

T: His name is Eric.
T: 8723 S. Michigan
T: Midnight Blue Dodge Avenger 72NXY17

She quickly responded to her text. 'Be safe. Call me in the morning and I'll pick you up.'

"So," he began, grabbing her attention. "I'll come around and you follow me?"

"Umm, y–yeah," she stumbled. "Yeah, we can do that."

He watched her, shrinking under his gaze. "Don't back out," he ordered, stepping towards her.

"I–I'm not," she stuttered.

"Good," he whispered before planting a gentle kiss upon her lips. "I'll be around in a bit."

She watched him walk away, leaving her snuggled in his jacket. She pulled the coat over her nose giving it a long sniff.

The rich lavender scent entering her nostrils.
Simply divine.

She pressed the start button on her car and waited for his arrival.

Moments later a black Chevy Impala flashed its lights. He pulled out in front of her, leading the way.

As she followed, she began to scold herself. Gripping the steering wheel, she shook her head. "The fuck are you doing, girl? Turn around and go home. Right now! Right now..."

Unlike her thoughts, her actions proved what she truly desired as she continued the cruise down Lake Shore Drive.

15 minutes later, they arrived in Uptown. Turning down Hazel Street he came to a stop. She watched as his figure emerged into the tungsten street lights. Once again, revealing just how handsome he was.

Approaching her car he smiled at her, displaying his chiseled features.

"My building is right there. 4414. Parking can be a bitch here. You can take that spot there," he pointed to the spot his car blocked, "while I find another..."

"Okay..."

Reading her bland expression, he became anxious. "What's wrong?"

Realizing she was dully staring. She turned away, "Sorry, it's nothing."

A long single digit reached out, tilting her face his way. "Speak your mind."

"Nothing, I'm just really, really, looking at you right now..."

"Well, do I meet your standards?" He wiggled his brows, making her laugh.

"Just park your car, please."

____________________

Their hands intertwined as he guided her up to the third floor. "It may be a bit messy. My apologizes."

As she entered the dwelling, her eyes immediately spotted a keyboard in the corner of the living room. She couldn't help but take a seat, resting her fingers on the keys.

"You play," he asked from behind her.

She allowed the music to answer for her. Playing a bit of Stevie Wonder's All I Do.

Finishing, she ran her fingers along the keys. "It's... part of my job..."

"Hmm," he hummed behind her. His hands slipped down the collar of the jacket, prying it off her shoulders.

Her bare shoulders felt the cool breeze, making her shiver. A soft moan slipped passed her lips.

"Stand," he commanded. She stood away from the instrument, her back facing him.

His slender fingers founds the zipper of her dress, and down it went, revealing more as the seconds pass. Reaching its end, the dress began to fall, eventually landing in a pool at her heels.

"Oh, God..." he murmured as his eye scanned her body. "You're beautiful."

She turned to him, stepping out of the dress' hold.

The black strapless laced bra held her mounds perfectly. While her matching laced bottoms hugged her small waist.

What really drove him wild, was her tattooed abdomen. A trail of stars began at the right side of her stomach, down to the bottom of her pierced belly button.

"You're gonna be screaming my name before the night is over," he groaned.

She tilted her head, watching the discomfort on his face. "I can't scream a name I don't know."

He'd been so caught up in getting her to his home that he never properly introduced him. Nor did she, for reasons unknown to him.

"My name is..." he circled her with ease. His fingertips grazed her skin as he went. Stopping in front her, he finished. "...Roger."

In a matter of seconds, she filled his arms as he carried her to his room bridal style.

Just as the rest of the home, his room was covered in black, with red accents, making it pop. He laid her down on the king sized bed and remained hovering above her. "What's yours?"

"Stacy."

"Stacy," he repeated, it rolling off the tip of his tongue.

He dropped his head to capture her lips. Her fingers buried beneath his short mane.

His right hand occupied a space on her inner thigh before giving it a squeeze, then continuing its adventure to her treasure. Gliding over the thin piece of dressing, he worked his hand down her underwear.

Soft and wet. Her mouth hung open as he massaged her gracefully. She moaned quietly, before planting open mouth kisses. "Ohh, yes," she whispered against his lips

With her cries of passion, he took it a step further, slipping a single digit within her walls. The bucking of her hips increased his curiosity, so he entered another finger.

The snug hold confirmed his suspicion. It'd definitely been a while since anyone pleased the woman beneath him.

Slowly, he pumped into her, watching as she fell into a state of euphoria. Her eyes lazily hanging open. Her mouth ajar, groaning as she met his thrusts.

"Stacy," he called, removing his fingers. Covered in her cum, he slipped them in her mouth. Slowly she sucked them dry. "Is it good?"

Slipping them out for her to reply, she quickly leaned up, kissing him letting him taste for himself. The sample increased his cravings, making him take the plunge.

His long tongue stroked her folds,making her hips buck uncontrollably. "Oh, shit," she cried, her hands crumpling the sheets. "Please, stop..."

His movements ceased as he gazed up at her. He kissed her pierced clit, before resting his chin on her mound. "Do you really want me to stop?"

She goggled down at him, before sheepishly shaking her head. "Just give me a moment. I don't want rush this and cu--"

"Trust me," he stood, removing his shirt. "You'll feel this more than once." He worked on the buckle of his pants. "Don't hold back. Cum." His trousers dropped to the floor. "I'm not gonna stop pleasing you until one of us taps out."

She supported herself on her elbows, studying his body in the dimmed lights. He was toned, athletic...hung.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes."

At the edge of the bed, he dropped to his knees. "I gotta say it, Stacy. I really like this," he whispered, licking her clit. He moaned, hearing her sharp intake of air.

Sweet torture it was when he sucked it into his mouth. Her hands immediately gripped his head. As a retaliation, he sucked harder. "Ahh..." she cried. "Right there. Right there."

He released her, staring at the swollen pleasure point. Afterwards he lapped her folds with his tongue, before entering two fingers yet again. With his fingers working their magic, he watched her attempting to focus on him.

Then he found it, her G stop.

"Roger..." she moaned.

Again he hit it, wiggling his fingers back and forth as her walls tightened around him. He jerked them rapidly before pulling out with a popping sound.

A small stream of liquid shot out. "Ah, a squirter," he marveled. "I know there's more from where that came from."

He repeated his actions until he was sated with the flow of her stream.

As she shook she tried with all her might to push him away.

"No," he moaned. "Don't do that, mama. It's okay." He wanted to ride her waves for as long as possible. "Let it flow."

He held her hands with his own as he covered her opening with his mouth, drinking it as if it was the only thing able to quench his thirst.

Once the well went dry, he gave her pearl one last kiss before licking up her body. Reaching her lips, he lingered.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you," he instructed as his hand wandered in the drawer of the side table retrieving a condom.

She could see his jaw clench in anticipation. His stare ripping her apart all while he absentmindedly put on the piece of protection.

He placed her hand on his covered stiffness. "Tell me." He yearned to hear those words fly from her lips. "Tell me..."

With her guidance, he stilled at her entrance.

"Fuck me..." she whimpered.

With one swift thrust, her nails were already digging into his skin. He didn't falter, he only countered with endless deep thrusts.

"What's...my name?" He grunted in her ear.

The only response she could manage were her heavy breathes and moans.

"Say it..." he thrust. "...Stacy."

Feeling her legs beginning to tremble, he knew she was reaching her peak already for the second time.

"Roger," she panted. "Harder."

He lifted her legs over his shoulders giving him the opportunity to reach new lands. The ability to test the true boundaries.

"Fuck," he groaned as her nails dug deeper. He was sure at this moment she drew blood.

Did he stop the agonizingly beautiful attack? No.

A few tears managed to escape, increasing his desire to drive her to oblivion.

"Let go..." he encouraged. Her clenching walls signaled her waterfall. He watched as she held her head back, mouth agape, crying to the heavens.

He allowed her legs to relax beside him. Laying on his elbows for support, he settled between her thighs, his member still erect within her cove.

Her hazel orbs fell upon him, as he brushed away a piece of hair that clung to her dampened face.

"The faces you make when you cum are breathtaking," he mentioned, causing her to blush. "I'd like to see it again." Lightly swaying his hips.

She placed her hands against his chest. "No. Let me."

Together they rolled over, switching positions.

Slowly, she began to rock, rolling her hips with precision. Yet, everything shifted the moment she decided to bounce.

Once facing him, she was now the opposite direction. Reverse cowgirl. Taking the control he'd given her. He glanced at their joining, examining her cream forming around his member each time it reappeared.

"Goddamn," he groaned. "I'm gonna cum."

"Cum for me, Roger," she pleaded, quickening her pace.

He shook her head as he wiped the sweat from his face. "Nah, not like this."

Within seconds he maneuvered them both. She was, yet again, beneath him taking every bit of brutal pleasure he awarded her, as he drilled into her.

His pulsating member felt as if it were being suctioned within her. Her grip, deathly.

"What are you doing to me, mama," he struggled, as his head nestled in her neck.

"Making you feel good," she replied.

Her walls tightened further. Something he thought wasn't possible. "Together..." he moaned.

Feeling his weapon jump, she came with him.

He huffed into her neck, letting himself drain into the barricade.

"That was..."

"Incredible," she finished.

Slowly, he slipped out of her. She hissed slightly. She was definitely going to be sore in the morning.

She looked on as he fell into the pillows with a sigh before removing the soiled condom. Taking that as her cue, she rose, looking for her undergarments.

"What are you doing?"

She glanced at him, "What does it look like? I'm leaving."

He leaned forward on his elbow, "Already?"

"Well," she sighed, "Isn't that how this works? We fuck and we part ways."

"Yes," he giggled, giving her body the once over, licking his lips. "And no." He pulled back the covers. "C'mon, stay the night."

Slowly, she made her way over to him. She'd already done the deed, staying wouldn't make anything worse than what it already was.

Snuggling beside him, he wrapped his arm around her waist. "I wanna see you again. Cool?"

"Its best that tonight remain a one time--"

"What's wrong with me wanting to give it to you anytime we're in the mood?"

Silence.

"There's so much I can do to you. Things you've never imagined," he muttered in her ear, making her shiver.

"How old are you, Roger?"

"27," he answered.

She slapped her hand over her face. "Jesus Christ, you're just a baby."

He chuckled beside her, his wandering hands now rubbing her thigh. "How old are you?"

"Old enough,"she countered.

The sudden cupping of her heat, made her stammer. "How old?" He repeated.

"You don't wanna know," she whimpered.

"How..." he pinched her bud, "...old?"

"46," she sighed.

"Really," he marveled. "I would have have pegged you for no more than my age." His middle finger massaged her clit. "You're aging gracefully."

"Thank you, lets hope you do too," she struggled to speak. "You just don't stop do you?" She glanced his way.

"No. I don't. Neither should you..."

The rays of sunlight awakened him from his slumber. As he did everyday, he rolled out of bed to relieve himself and brush his teeth. Coming back into the room, he remember last nights events.

He rushed into the living room, looking for any sign of her. Coming up empty handed, he returned to bed. And there it was, a small folded piece of paper.

Inside it read:

Thank you for last night. Depending on where the wind takes us, we'll meet again.
-S

⏭⏭⏭⏭⏭⏭⏭⏭⏭⏭⏭

Rushing down down the express way, he couldn't be late for this interview. He knew public transit would have been the better option, but he would be needed at the studio for the rest of the day.

Within 20 minutes he found himself in the west loop looking for the building. His phone vibrating in his pocket made him jump. He dug in the small compartment to retrieve it.

Pulling into the parking structure he stopped at the first spot he managed to find. After shifting the car in park he checked his message from his best friend.

Dre:
Good luck. Everything is gonna change when you land this job homie.

Thanks bro. I just arrived. Hit you in a bit.

Exiting his vehicle, to slip on his jacket. He reached in for his iPad, carrying all he needed for his interview.

Alone, he occupied the elevator as it made its rise to the main floor. As the door opened, the building welcomed him with gold lettering on the wall.

Tailored Records

After speaking with the receptionist and confirming his presence, he was sent to the top floor.

The elevator doors opened to another receptionist.

"Hello," the woman greeted. She scanned though her computer. "You must be Prince?"

"Indeed, I am," he grinned. He reached out his hand for her own.

"Tasha. We spoke on the phone last week," she stood before shaking his hand. "Follow me," she instructed, leading him to a conference room. "Have a seat."

He sat as she occupied the space across from him.

"I have to say Mr. Nelson, your background was quite impressive." She glanced down at her iPad. "Went to Columbia College Chicago, for Audio Design and Production."

"It's been a while since I graduated, but I'll never forget anything I learned there. It's something special about being surrounded by people that love the same things you do."

"I feel where you're coming from," she nodded. "So tell me about your last place of employment."

He cleared his throat. "Well, I'm still there. I have a studio in my home. I'm a producer and engineer. It's been going well...."

"Nice," she smiled. "But why be an assistant?"

"One day, I'd like to be an asset in this business. Make a change for all artist across the board. In order to do that I need the knowledge," he explained. "There's still so much I don't know. Although, I'm helping make this persons life easier, they're doing the same for me by allowing me to gain the knowledge I desire."

She locked her iPad and folded her hands in front of her. "I'm not gonna bullshit you kid. You're hired in my book. Shit, you're replacing me while I'm on my trip and possibly indefinitely, depending on how things go with boss lady."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I liked you when we spoke, last week. It's just, she wanted another female to replace me but maybe when she meets you she'll feel differently." Tasha grabbed her belongings. "Give me 5 minutes."

Prince sat quietly, thinking of the possible reasons why she preferred a woman. Was she a lesbian? A man hater? Maybe she was married with a jealous husband? Or had a jealous wife? He shook the thoughts from his mind. His only concern was selling himself to get this position. He needed to learn the ends and outs of this shit.

"Prince," Tasha called, "Follow me."

He strut behind her with confidence as she lead him to the presidential office.

Entering the suite, he was immediately taken by the view of the city. "Wow," he muttered.

"It's beautiful indeed," Tasha whispered back.

A large office chair had its back facing them.

"Prince Nelson," Tasha began, "I'd like you to meet the president and founder of Tailored Records, Ms. Rachel Stacy Tailor." Rachel's chair spun around, "Rachel, this is Prince Nelson."

As if time stopped, Prince stared at her, uncertain of how to react.

Unlike that night spent with him, Stacy remained calm and confident. She stood and reached out to shake his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Prince and please, call me Stacy."