1. Jazz


    Date: 12/9/2015, Categories: Straight Sex, Author: Sisyphus, Rating: 5, Source: LushStories

    in thrift stores, but I made sure I had that black cocktail dress and mom’s shoes. It was hard in the beginning not knowing anyone, but I got a room at the Y then went to see Morris Katz at his office on the sixth floor of the Shubert Building. Max was in sixties, bald, fat, but loved jazz. I was nineteen so he got me a fake ID so I could get in those places. He said he had a friend with a small studio apartment in the Village who was away. The guy owed him for something and so I could stay there for nothing for a few months until I got some gigs. I got a job in one of those coffee houses in the village where they had open mikes and any one could sing or read poetry. I liked working there because the tips were good and on weekends lots of tourists came to be part of the Beat, Hippie scene. Most of the waiters and waitresses were actors, dancers, or artists. It was cool listening to all the different singers, some really good, most so-so. They played guitars and sang what they called folk music, songs that told stories, never any jazz though, and I wanted to get up there and do my thing, but I was so different. Also, I didn’t play an instrument so I had to find someone who could play the beat up piano they had. I put up a sign on the crowded message board near the door--jazz singer looking for pianist. It turned out one of the waiters named Ben came over to me and told me he played piano and so we agreed to try some tunes after the place closed. When everyone cleared out ...
    except the manager, we finally went over to the piano. As soon as he played his first few chords and made some runs, I knew he was great. Something about his playing startled me and I remembered the first time I heard Gabe play the guitar with that passion and intensity. Ben loved all the old standards like I did from Mom’s records and when I sang, “ I Got You Under My Skin, ” he knew exactly how I wanted to sing it. We kept looking into each others eyes while I sang and, man, we were so connected, so in a groove that I knew something was going to happen. Finally, we had to leave because the manager kicked us out and we went back to my place around the corner for coffee and to talk, but it didn’t take long before we were fucking like crazy on my futon couch. Ben was a just under six feet tall and had dusty blond hair that was kind of disheveled and came just over his ears. He was thin and lanky and I could tell he was strong by the way he held me. I could feel his energy, but it was his imagination, not only when he played the piano, but how we played teasing games when we fucked that made me know we had something special that would come out when we did jazz together. I called Morris and told him I had a great pianist and could he get us some gigs? He did. Ben and I were really hooked on each other and he’d stay at my place or I’d go to his tiny apartment on the fourth floor over a bakery on McDougal. Ben and I liked getting high after work and listening to his great jazz records, ...
«12...111213...1617»