Listening to Stevie Ray Vaughan’s Pride and Joy with a beer in my hand, dancing in my living room on New Year’s Eve. Lost in remembering, feeling the bluesy notes of Stevie’s guitar melt through me. I closed my eyes and remembered.
Dancing to the sharp bright sounds of a live band vibrating through my body. Hot, handsome men looking at me, into me, taking my arms, leading me into a dark place to dance and touch. I remembered the sounds that made me weak and hot, the music that carried me on a wave through touching and kissing and fucking; sweet sensations that carried me into a place attainable only through the gateway of bass and beat and rhythm.
I could remember the fire in their eyes and the heat in their hands.
Listening to Stevie now, smiling as I drank my beer and danced, I realized I missed running wild on Saturday night. I missed the primal heat, the promise of a great fuck with no thought of tomorrow.
It was fleeting, that time. I had a helluva ride, and I loved every minute of it. I wish I had done more. I wish that I knew someone my age that could go to a blues club and listen to that soul stirring music, see the beautiful, sexy woman I was — and still am when I hear that music. I wish he’d drag me out to the parking lot and into the backseat of his car.
We’d struggle, kissing and pawing at our clothes, beer breath warming our necks. He’d pull me into the backseat, whispering that the music made him think of my thighs, my pussy, my soft, soft skin. I’d unzip his pants; pull out his rock hard dick, my eyes wide. We would be breathless and hot, wanting to touch every surface. I would gasp as he entered me, my juices running hot over his dick. He’d pump, kissing my breasts through my clothes, and then raking my blouse away so he could taste flesh. I’d groan, my legs scrambling to hold him, encourage him. His rolling hips would push us into and beyond that threshold of pleasure.
We’d both cry out, both bite and claw and strain toward the final wave of pleasure, feeling the beat of the music coming through the night.
I’m looking for the man who can satisfy this fantasy. In the meantime, I’m listening to Stevie, dancing alone, a little drunk, and very, very hot.
