Jazzed

Chapter Four-1

Chapter Four

She couldn’t believe it: She was going to have to put out; give this dork the extra incentive, just to land the audition.

He shuffled through a half-dozen eight-by-ten glossies without really looking. “Lord, Benny... she must be sixty by now.”

Her parents had the poor judgment of naming her Benjamina; like the damned tree. So it had been Benny since grade school. “Okay!” Benny avoided calling him a dork. “Look, Chay and I are the same age. And let me assure you, sonny, sixty is way far in my distant future.”

He squirmed and looked up from the photographs. It was true that Benny had some mileage, but still, she was a remarkably good-looking woman. “I understand you used to be a pretty hot dancer yourself; in your day, I mean.”

Benny groaned inwardly. The guy really knew how to impress a girl; in her day, indeed! And she really didn’t want to get into her history with some star-struck casting agent; one that was half her age. But she hadn’t got this far in life, gained the success she enjoyed, without learning how the game is played.

“Thanks. But I never made it outta the chorus-line. Never stood in the spotlight, not like Chay. Chay had something extra, still does if you’d care to look.” He blushed, slighted by the jibe.

Benny still carried a lot of weight in the business. Her name was bantered about at the theater receptions, the awards dinners, the industry cocktail parties. Whereas he was a nobody. His name could be printed in seventy-two point type across the front page of Variety and people would look about, bewildered, and ask: “Who?”

He shifted in his chair. “I was thinking of Debbie Desiree,” he said, sheepishly.

Benny slumped back; so that was it. What had Debbie’s agent promised him?

“Isn’t she a bit young? You’ve read the script. The part of Fastrada is played by an older woman.”

“Yeah. But with a wig and the makeup... ”

“And the prospectus clearly states that Bobby wants a dancer with long legs!”

“Yes, well... ”

“Debbie would have to jump to come up to five-foot four, honey.” The color was back in his cheeks and she had to wonder where Bobby had found this guy. “Here. Look at this!”

Benny pulled one of the photos from the stack and pushed it under his nose. He adjusted his reading glasses. In the photo, Chay was seated on the white seamless paper backdrop and propped up on locked elbows. One knee was c****d and the other leg, with an arched, four-inch Capezio, was pointed at the ceiling, fully extended. Chay’s short dance skirt was hiked above the hip bone. She didn’t appear to be wearing underpants.

“Geez. When was this taken?”

“About six weeks ago!”

He examined Chay’s leg like an engineer studies the Eiffel Tower.

“Geez... !” Every muscle, from her perky ass, through her ropy thigh, along a curvaceous calf and trim ankle, was perfectly developed and highly defined. It could have been an illustration from Gray’s Anatomy. Chay’s legs were long; and slender.

“Get a tape measure, honey. Let’s see how Debbie stacks up. I think you’ll find she comes up eight-inches short, in the leggy department.”

The casting agent dragged his eyes from Chay’s glamorous gams and checked out the dancer’s face. There was no doubt she was getting on, but there was something in that earthy Latin look: The sensual smokey s****l appeal was timeless. It seemed to ooze up off the damned paper. Transgressing age. It made his p***s ache.

The casting agent looked back across his desk at Benny. “You and Chay are friends. I heard that, somewheres.”

“Yes. She’s been my client and close friend, for many years.” Benny sensed the shift in his direction. She had encountered it enough times to know where he was headed.

“I’m just trying to do what’s best for the production. You understand that, surely.” He watched the expression on her face change to one of mutual understanding. In many ways, Benny and her client were very similar: Both marvelous-looking, middle-aged women who extruded a sultry s*x appeal that was the sole domain of the experienced woman. His anus pinched.

He tried to ingratiate himself. “Tell me about the early days. I want to know.”

“Me or New York?” She indulged him.

“Both.”

“I was sixteen. I arrived here on a Grey Hound fresh out of a Nebraska high school and shared a dumpy one-bedroom with three other hopefuls. I auditioned for everything: Broadway, Off-Broadway, regional, and the touring companies. And when I wasn’t auditioning, I was bustin’ my ass in the studio.

“After a disappointing year, I was flat out of cash and was trying to figure a way back to Nebraska when I heard about a small touring company that was looking for dancers. I danced for the director and the producer. They said I would be fine but that there was something more. A catch. I would be expected to dance in the nude. I was floored! It was a cheap bus and truck tour of O’ Calcutta and the only reason I got the job was because I was the only girl that said: “Yes!”

“And that’s how it all started?” the agent asked. “With O’ Calcutta?”

“I spent a miserable winter in the mid-west, sleeping in sleazy motels and dancing naked in broken down play-houses. But when I got back to New York the following spring, I had some jingle in my jeans and a credit on my sheet. It wasn’t much but it led to another tour. It was a cheap, no-headliner, scaled down version of Evita and another bus and truck, only this time the bus didn’t break down every week. And I had a costume.” Benny couldn’t help but smile at the memory.

“And you went on to dance in most of the major productions on Broadway... ” He helped with her story.

“Yes. But never as a headliner. I was good, but not great, not a star like Chay. I can’t explain it. It’s not working at the craft: I could put in twice as much time at the dance studio, work twice as hard. But Chay would still be the star and I would still be in the chorus line. She’s just got something. Something extra. It’s not about the work or the commitment, though she’s no slouch when it comes to commitment. She can just sell the dance to the audience. And they respond.”

“A star!”

“Yes. We used to call them hedge-liners back in the day; instead of headliners. The producers could hedge their investment by signing the right talent. There was only a handful of entertainers that fit the bill, but the name Chay Ramorazz on a theater marquee simply guaranteed the success of the show. Producers could bank their money. And when Hollywood took notice, they found Chay was just as effective in front of the cameras. It was the movie contracts that made us both very wealthy... ”

“That was after you quit dancing.”

“Yes. I used my business contracts to land myself a job representing talent; first with the Ford Agency, and later with William Morris. Then I broke out on my own; took Chay with me. She trusted me to make the right decisions, ease her career in the right direction. We did well.”

“And now you’re retired.”

“Semiretired, sweetie. I still have my favorites, under contract.”

Benny stood, stretched her muscles and strolled across his office toward the window. She moved with a dancer’s rhythm, a slow feline flex in her thighs, like her body was throbbing from some internal heat. She knew his eyes would be trained on the high curve of her ass swaddled beneath the tight business skirt.

“You do know that Chay and Bobby are friends.”

That brought his eyes up to study the back of her head. “I knew they had worked together; several times. And on the original show if I’m not mistaken.”

The show was a remounting of one of Bobby’s first successes on Broadway: Pippin. And, once again, he was the choreographer and the director: A star and a hedge-liner in his own right.

“Yes,” Benny confirmed, “They worked on the original show. Together. And became friends!” She let the implication hang but didn’t threaten the young man outright, though her intentions were clear enough: Bobby might be displeased if he found that his friend Chay had been overlooked for the part.

Benny leaned forward, hands resting on the windowsill fourteen floors above 42nd Street. She knew her skirt had lifted a little. She thought back to the days when choreographers had clamored for Chay’s attention. Chay would consider having to audition for a part as a great personal insult. And yet, here Benny was, struggling for favor with a casting agent who hadn’t yet been born when Chay first swept Broadway by storm. Where did Bobby find this guy?

Benny knew she dare not report to Chay empty handed. Chay wanted the part, desperately. And more importantly, to team with Bobby once again, after all these years. Benny knew Chay was considering this final mounting of Pippin as her last hurrah. Her swansong. Chay’s retirement loomed.

Benny reached up and slipped two of the buttons between her breasts and pulled the lapels of her blouse aside, exposing ample cleavage and soft mounds cuddled in a half-bra.

Benny momentarily thought about where her career had taken her. The guy probably hadn’t seen his thirtieth birthday yet. She was forty-eight. Still, she needn’t work another day in her life; not if she didn’t want to. She was only here because her friend, Chay, needed representation. That, and Benny liked to keep her hand in. Oh well, she shrugged. She would do whatever it took; like always. “Okay. The musical interlude is over,” she said to her reflection in the glass. “Let’s get down to it.”

“Down to it? What? I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Sure you do, sonny.” Benny turned and watched his eyes jut then latch onto the opening that ran down the length of her chest.

The sight of her breasts, glorious half-spheres rising above the satin of her black push-up bra, stole his breath and started his insides churning.

“You’ve been staring at my t**s ever since I walked through your door. I have to assume that you see something you like. And, in return, you have something I need. It’s plain enough, don’t you think? It’s called making a deal ... I’m sure you’ve heard the term. What will it take for me to secure an audition for my client?”

He was startled, at first, by her effrontery. But then the slow realization of what she was suggesting settled and he smirked; still not totally believing what he heard and stealing himself against the deception. And disappointment. “What’s your usual concession?” he asked.

Benny smiled. She had him.

She pushed off the windowsill where she had parked her haunches. “My usual offer is a three-percent kickback if Chay lands the role. But a young buck like you? I’m prepared to sweeten the offer up front.” She swung around the corner of his desk.

“I don’t believe this.”

“You don’t have to believe anything. Just lean back and think about what three-percent of Chay’s contract fee will do for your bank account. And what my lips are going to do for your ego.”

“Oh God! I can’t believe this.”

Benny swung his desk chair around and leaned forward to met his bulging eyes. She knocked his legs apart and gracefully got to her knees. He started to tremble uncontrollably when she caressed the front of his slacks. Benny wasn’t sure if he was enthralled or just plain scared half to death.

“Calm down,” she cooed, trying to make sense of his bazaar gyrations. “How do you expect me to suck you off if you can’t relax?” She turned her head to the side and smiled. This was too delicious.

With the realization of what she intended, once again his groin was short-circuited and he tried to rise from his chair. A woman of less experience would have backed off, but Benny had other ideas. She had her arms wrapped about his thighs and rubbed her face expectantly into his crotch.

“Like that?” she taunted, nibbling lightly at the spot where she supposed his p***s lay waiting. He didn’t answer, taken up as he was with the task of steadying his runaway nerves. He knew that he was making a damned fool of himself and bit down with renewed resolve. But then he heard his zipper go down and her cool fingers were rummaging around beneath the wide elastic of his briefs.

One knee started to bounce and he had to grip the outsides of his thighs to still his hands. She dug deeper into his trousers, searching for the wayward soldier. Benny finally found him low down, tucked away between his legs; a cold damp ball squeezed out on either side. She encircled him and gently pried him forward, out into the light of day.

“There you are,” she scolded his small pink prick that looked for all the world like a soggy macaroon. She placed a liquidy kiss right over his pee-hole. “There. I’ll take care of you. Don’t you worry.” She once again addressed the drooling p***s and not him directly.

Benny pulled back the foreskin and ran her tongue around the ridge. He shivered when he saw the gooey smear on her lipstick. She caught his eyes as she dragged the tip of his p***s along her lower lip. “Your wife doesn’t perform this simple task for you?” He appeared to be panic-stricken and she had to wonder if he had ever had a blowjob before. Never mind, she thought. Benny had a task to perform and she hadn’t become a wealthy woman by shirking her responsibilities. She moved forward on her knees and downed him.

A half-dozen thrusts and she paused to catch a breath. And then she deep-throated him again; several more times, before his hands came up to entangle her hair. Benny took the first spurt in the back of the throat. Then eased a little and took the rest of his meager offering in her mouth. She hesitated, holding him for a moment; let him finish. And then she swallowed.

Benny rang the bell.

Gary opened the apartment door and stood to one side. “She’s still in bed.”

Benny checked her watch. It was well past one o’clock in the afternoon. “Did she work out?”

“Yes. She was in the studio at seven.”

“And?”

“She’s a little rusty, but it’ll be okay.”

Gary was Chay’s personal trainer but why Chay insisted that he live in her guestroom was anyone’s guess.

“Benny? Is that you?” Chay’s voice echoed down the hallway that led to the master stateroom.

“I better go on in,” Benny said. “Bring us a pot of coffee, would you?”

“Sure,” Gary replied and he made his way across the expansive living room that overlooked Central Park. A fourteen million dollar view.

“Benny, you old lezbo, take off your clothes and come to bed. Tell me all about your morning.”

Benny disappeared into the bathroom. “I’ll be right along; just have to brush my teeth... ”

“Why are you brushing your teeth in the middle of the day? What have you been up to?”

“I had onions on my hot dog, as if it’s any of your business.”

Chay dismissed her with a wave of a hand. “Honey, you must have thirty million stashed away and you still insist on eating at those awful sidewalk vendors; those dirty men handling their wieners. You listen to me. You’ll catch the botulism plague or something.” She listened to Benny sawing away at her molars. Might as well be talking to a man, she thought.

Benny came out of the bathroom, shedding clothes as she went. Halfway to the bed, she paused to pull off her pumps and drop her skirt. Her blouse was jettisoned next followed by her bra and pants. Naked, at the side of the bed, she scrambled up and crawled on hands and knees. Chay’s bed was the size of a flippin’ basketball court.

“And I’m not a lezbo. My husband died twenty years ago. Remember?”

“Yes, I remember. And dying was the only thing the bugger got right. It was a good thing you had your own money. If I recall, all he left you was that ridiculous car with only two seats and a load of credit card debt.”

“Yes. But he had the biggest d**k in New York.”

“And every bar-floozy knew it, too!”

“You’re very perceptive when it comes to men. It surprises me sometimes. I guess you’re not a lezbo either.”

“I guess, but if I was, you’d be my b***h. And I should have been a lesbian, damn it. It’s so fashionable these days. And I’ve been married four times and all they ever did was steal money from my purse. All except Willie; Willie was sweet.”

“Willie was in love with his mother. They were caught together.”

“Oh pooh! Every young man crawls up into bed with his mother.”

“He was forty-six!”

“They were very close.”

“He was breastfeeding!”

“She must have been a remarkable woman, don’t you think?”

“The woman was nuts.”

“Well. I suppose you are entitled to your opinion, dear.”

“Sheesh!”

Once alongside, Chay pulled down the covers and Benny slipped in and got propped up against a mountain of pillows. They cuddled together. It was nice. “If you want, I can lend you Gary for an afternoon.”

“I don’t think so.”

“It’s just that twenty years is a long time. You must be, I don’t know, terribly frustrated.”

“Just worry about your own problems.”

“I don’t have any problems... ”

“I met with the casting agent this morning. Bobby wants to have lunch with you and discuss the part of Fastrada.

Chay perked up immediately.

“I knew it. I’m perfect for that part.”

“I imagine Debbie is saying the same thing.”

“Debbie?”

“Yep. She’s got her sights set on the part, too.”

“Debbie? The runt?”

“I know... I know.” Benny raised a hand in self-defense. “I presented all the right arguments, trust me. But Debbie’s not so much short as she is little. She actually has a very nice body and she has worked with Bobby before, on a couple of projects. She got excellent reviews. I checked.”

“I see what you mean, about problems.” Chay slumped visibly. “Debbie’s younger. She’s cute, and probably in better shape. So what are my chances?”

“Very good, I would think. Bobby wants to take you to lunch, remember? He wouldn’t waste his time if he wasn’t interested. So yeah, you got a good shot at the job but you’ll have to be up for it. Drop ten pounds and get back into the running.”

“Oh pooh. I hate running.”

There was a tap at the door and both women instinctively pulled up the sheet to cover their boobs. “Coffee.” Gary announced.

“Lovely,” Chay said and watched Gary arrange the tray at the side of the bed. “Biscuits?”

Benny’s head snapped around and she made a tsk sound with her lips.

“Oh pooh.” Chay repeated and slumped back against the pillow. Gary discreetly turned away as the sheet slipped from about her n*****s.