Ecstasy’s Edge in the Loft

Blues music and the allure of younger women were Daniel’s two great consuming passions. Sophie met him on the train to Chicago. She sat across the aisle from him, and their chatter flowed freely during the train’s brief passage. A blues singer in one of downtown Chicago’s popular lounges, barely twenty-four, with a voice to make a grown heart weep, Sophie made quite an impression on the old-timer, her well-groomed silver streaks entangling him in their pull. Her eyes in the hazel spectrum and warm, provocative smile seemed to dare him, but he thought he could be overanalyzing it. As they parted at the station, she had casually mentioned, almost deliberately, her concert at the lounge the following Friday. He tried convincing himself that this was a mere matter of courtesy, but she remained forever etched in his mind – her lemony fragrance, and her eyes that seemed to look right through him. On Friday, therefore, he found himself in the lounge, fully convinced that she would hardly remember him; he was wrong after all.

The intimate venue had small round tables encircling a wooden stage where a few performers wobbled on the soulful wail of the harmonica. Sophie stood in the middle of the stage, the voice drifting like smoke through the room. Daniel was mesmerized from a corner table. She wore a sapphire blue dress, figure-hugging and shiny under the lights, cut low enough to hint at her curves, and ending mid-thigh to give a glimpse of long, sculpted legs. Black ankle boots studded with silver, a narrow waist, smooth olive skin, sylph-like hands, delicate neck, tiny stud earrings, auburn hair flowing in waves, and lips coated with deep crimson.A glass of whiskey was slid onto his table by a waiter, and Daniel nodded in acknowledgment absently, his eyes fixated on Sophie, Her set ended with a mournful note. The opening notes of the next song pierced through. Her eyes found him. A lazy, almost electric smile crossed her face – it could stop traffic. She spoke softly to the guitarist, who nodded and stepped back. Sophie then made her way over to Daniel’s table.

“You made it! I was hoping you would,” she said, warmly.
“Miss an invitation from someone like you? That’d be a crime. This place is incredible,” he said.
“How about a dance?”
“Me? I’d trip over my own feet trying to keep up with you.”
“Oh, come on, don’t sell yourself short. It’s just for fun-no need for a performance. And let’s forget the formal stuff, okay?”

How was it possible to say no?
“I’m fine with that, but you have to promise to drop the formalities with me too,” Daniel grinned.

She extended her hand, and they stepped onto a small dancing floor. His arm circled her waist-firm yet careful, guiding her like a true expert with grace. They stood fittingly, and his body knew hers, curvy against her frame until they locked gazes, her smile soft with intensity. They swayed to the slow raw blues, and the charge hung about them like static. His hand resting at the small of her back sent her a jolt, a tingling warmth settling low in her belly, utterly dissimilar from anything she had felt with other men. A brush of her hip against his body ignited something inside him that was getting hard to suppress. Moments passed in erratic breathing and fixated looks, one song, then the next, and soon enough, on the third, all the unfulfilled desires swelled in thick silence between them. Sophie resumed fanning herself lightly.” One second, I really must go to the restroom,” she said, her low voice husky.

He nodded, using the moment to control the heat building up inside him-not from the dance but from her. Sophie unraveled him like nothing else. When she returned, she took his hand and resumed the party with a faster, smokier blues. They were in half-light, shadows curled around them, with the tempo now sculpting them into one as their hips brushed against each other with every step. He could just hold on for a moment longer before saying something he would never live down, but he held back, unsure whether her desire level matched his. Then she slipped her hand into the neckline of her dress, pulled out a small black piece of fabric, and with a knowing grin, tucked it into his coat pocket.

“And what is that?” he asked, never missing a beat on the dance floor.

“A little gift.” Her tongue found her lower lip.

He reached into his pocket, fingers brushing soft, delicate lace-slightly warm, slightly damp. Then, it hit him. The sultry look in her eyes confirmed it: her panties were infused with a good part of her desire. No woman had ever done anything so brazen, so raw. His control shattered entirely. He took her hand, pressed a kiss on it, and led her out. They hailed a cab to go twelve blocks to his loft. Words weren’t necessary. They had built such an atmosphere that a sentence between them would sound redundant except to make the driver look back every so often. In the elevator to 10th floor, they collided – his hands lifted her by the hips; her legs wrapped around him; and warmth pressed against his abdomen through his shirt, teasing him with her bare heat. Locked in a hot, intense kiss, he fumbled his key into the lock, pulled the door open, and carried her inside. Without breaking contact, he moved into the bedroom, setting her gently at the edge of the king-sized bed. She stood on the mattress, her dress riding up slightly, exposing more thighs. He stood before her, naked arousal evident and straining against the cloth of his trousers. Daniel reached for her, desperate to peel off her dress, but she stopped him with a playful shake of her head. “No, let me take charge,” came her low, sultry reply.