Trumpets and Horns- A Short Story

It was a quiet, grey ramshackle day. She wore her yellow dress, which radiated in each room, allowing for a new light to appear within the loft. I felt new fascinations looming out of the depths. There would be no place to go today. There would be only that sense of urgency which dons on one who can only look upon their company for entertainment.
“Darling. Please come here.” I called to her.
Without delay, she approached me. I grasped her by the arms and embraced her to my bosom. It was in that moment I felt her and I become one. And I wanted to drive it further.
“You’re sweet. What are you going to do to me?” She asked.
This had stimulated further notions on how I could act out my need for an escape from this cloudy day. I moved my head into her breasts and began to kiss them. I than felt it was time she returned the favor.

Pulling away without struggle, she gently removed the yellow dress, revealing no bra, and a white pair of panties with light pink trim. It was further down I observed her tan slippers exposing her light pink toe nails. I could covet her now, showing thus as I slid her panties down to her knees and kissed her vagina.
She quivered in excitement.
It was sexuality which she was talented at. After she caressed my phallus with her sensitive, beautiful feet, she relaxed on the sofa, waiting for my next move. It was a quaint feeling of passion, and I returned her caress by lifting her up and making love there, suspended in time. And through that time, I noticed the color outside begin to change from a heavy grey into a clear blue. Had our love appeased the heavens? I relaxed, dragging on a cigarette.
“You never disappoint.” She said.
I met her eyes and replied, “Neither you, my love.”
This put her in a state of calm awaiting. For what now, we could not fathom. The day had certainly cleared up, but in so much a manner that we no more knew what to do than some strange beast who’d been trapped in a cage all of its life, and now looked emptily at the broken bars.
I had begun to feel a slight sense of anger at my disposition, so without a word, I sat up, put my cigarette out, and headed toward the door.
“See you in a while I guess?” She asked.
“Perhaps.” I replied.

No more usage than a dead battery. That’s what I felt of my presence in the loft now that the sun was out. I made my way to a small brick building about five blocks from my loft. “Steven A. Gordon- Psycho Analyst.” The sign above displayed. I headed inside to discover the same air of the loft about the place. Steven walked eagerly to me.
“Michel. Good to see you.” He said shaking my hand.
“Always a pleasure Gordon.” I replied.
Gordon’s eyes were bloodshot, and I soon caught onto the smell of marijuana, something he did quite frequently, which made it hard for me to believe just how well he practiced psycho analysis. The few times I had smoked marijuana, I had felt overwhelming anxiety and resolved to never do it again. Somehow, Gordon could stand it and would likely be able to diagnose some form of schizophrenia while high. I would wager money on it.
“Why have you come to see me?” He asked.
“Well, I had a sense of feeling trapped in my home, and thought you could guide me --- through my feelings.” I said jokingly.
“You’re here now. How about we go to see the parade on Lenox Avenue? Or is it the Lenox Avenue Parade?” He asked.
I spoke no more, embracing him in passion. We kissed and felt each other up and down. How I loved so much and could find nothing better to do. He led me into the back room, leaving a sign at the front desk.
Once there, he removed his pants, and I unbuckled my trousers. Once my shirt was off, he began to feel my chest and biceps admiringly.
“You always were a lean devil.” Gordon said huskily.
“You could always suck a cock like I can’t imagine.” I said.
We had been at it for a while. There was one point I recall nearly laughing and blowing our cover when a young man entered somberly. Noticing the sign which read, “Out to lunch. Will return.” he beheld an absurd expression. You see, the time was 2:45 pm, and Gordon’s lunch hour was typically 12 to 1pm. The young man looked at the office door disapprovingly and stormed out. How I could laugh at everyone’s dilemmas.
“You have a sexual addiction.” Gordon spoke softly.
“You love me now, but to what avail? Can you not love me and be with me forever?” He asked quietly.
“Must you place me in such light? For you know I have only the embrace of those who love me. It wouldn’t be fair to them if I loved only one.” I replied.
“The only one you love is yourself.” Gordon said uneasily.

I left his office, feeling the need to escape this trap at once. The sun outside was beginning to be plagued once more by the vicious grey. The young man from earlier was approaching the building, so I walked in the opposite direction, and decided to see the parade. I heard, after all, while I made love to Gordon, the sound of trumpets and horns. A thought appealed to me that I should show my next host courtesy. I hadn’t reacted to my lady mate earlier with the kind of respect one deserves when visiting someone else’s home. Before I could decide just how to make my next host feel comfortable, my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of trumpets and horns.

Lenox Avenue buzzed with excitement. It occurred to me that all the denizens in this city must be in attendance. This thought both amazed and amused me. Could they not be engaged in some other form of self abasement? That is what this silly parade stands for to me. I looked on still, and even made an attempt to find myself closer. At the sight of a float resembling some dervish cartoon character, I began to loath the denizens more. At that moment, I had wanted the grey to return to life in the skies, and consume the fabric of this crazy town like a hell spawn moth.
“They only come once a year, that band. Other parades, they don’t participate. I suppose they’re off somewhere playing at a more esteemed event, like say the royal assembly or something.” A man explained to his wife. Their children looked on at the float. Within their eyes, I felt a comfort which I could not understand. Could they be happy with this foolish display? I feared to consider placing myself in the mind of a child, only to become one. My child was one encouraged to learn on his own. I had taken a beating for anything my grandmother deemed unnecessary. I can’t recall what that was. But here, for once, these kids did not fear unnecessary laughter and joy. I walked further along Lenox and down Newman Square.
There resided tall town houses at a distance from the skyscrapers commonplace in the city. Newman Square held some nice coffee shops and newsstands. There were also nightclubs and music venues. I had been to a few, only to feel completely out of place and off center from my core. I made my way to a townhouse which displayed a banner: “Saint’s.”
This was the tavern where I met my good friend, Mia. She was the owner and daughter of a wealthy entrepreneur in the city. I noticed a young man, very handsome, standing at the entrance to the upstairs hallway. Mia’s office was located just on the other end.
“Hello boy.” I said, smiling.
“Do you have an appointment?” He asked.
“Mia Rosen is an old friend of mine. I’ve just stopped in to see her.” I replied
He very clearly wanted my time. He became curiously apprehensive and returned my smile. I began to feel my phallus throb. I leaned close to him and kissed his neck, gently licking the back of his ear. He shuddered in ecstasy. He kissed me lightly on the cheek and whispered, “You can see her, but I definitely have to see you sometime.”
I walked to the end of the hall without looking at him, and lightly opened the door to Mia’s office.
To my surprise, she wasn’t there. I looked back at the boy. It donned on me how clever a setting the empty room was. I gestured my finger for him to come. He did.
We made love in the office. His moans must’ve been heard by someone, but we had not been disturbed. Once again, the trumpets and horns were blaring through the street. Surely that band must’ve circled Newman Square. After we finished up, the boy asked for my name.
“What’s yours?” I mocked.
His face turned red, and before he could reply, Mia entered the office.
“Oh, Michel, nice to see you! Charles, was there something you wanted?” Mia asked.
He was now beet red and looked at me emptily. I remained silent. Mia stepped forward and gestured for him to leave.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Take the rest of the day off.” She instructed.
Charles exited swiftly, without asking questions or making a scene.
“It’s been a strange day, hasn’t it?” Mia asked with a smile.
“Certainly no stranger than what I’m used to.” I replied.
“The parade is so God awful and tiring.” She stated.
I stared at her as she reached into the cabinet along the wall. She retrieved a bottle of Sherry and sat on the desk, looking into my eyes. She cared not that I sat on her seat, or held a manner of someone in charge here. She poured two glasses and let her high heels slip off.
“You like what they did at my recent pedicure?” She asked.
“Oh yes.” I said.
I reached for her feet and smelled. It was the scent of chocolate, and her toe nails were painted white. She slowly removed her pantyhose, and I began to get excited. I drank another glass of Sherry and lit a cigarette. She had pleased me beyond what I could’ve expected.
“I suppose you’ve been practicing?” I asked
“There was a job applicant turned embarrassing moment recently. I guess at first he didn’t catch on to what I was doing, but once I got him started, that was it. He must’ve ejaculated a bucket’s worth all over the place. Needless to say, he didn’t get the job.” Mia explained with a smirk.
I finished my drink and kissed her on the cheek.
“Where are you going?” She asked.
“I love you Mia. Would you like to come to my flat later?” I asked
“You’re joking?” She asked.
“Yes.” I said in final, and closed the door.
That was our typical visit. Once outside of Saint’s tavern, I noticed the grey returning in full form. This made me happy, as I was sure that the parade must be cancelled soon.
Heading back to my flat, I noticed the foolish people still lined up in the streets. I had become drunk, and having looked into one person’s eyes, wished I hadn’t. This man looked at me as if I were a scourge to society. I smiled at him in contempt and continued on, my back to the parade. A sense of hope approached in the form of a light trickle of rain on my shoulders, and by the time the rain fell full throttle, I was sitting comfortably in my chair, reading the papers. My mistress from earlier was in the other room, engaged in the use of a most awful drug, but I cared not.
She opened her door, and stumbled into the kitchen.
“Michel. Do you want something for supper?” She asked.
“Of course. Why don’t you tell me your name again?” I asked
She looked at me stupidly, clearly higher than usual.
“Cynthia.” She said blankly
I now felt as though all was right with the world. This Cynthia had me. I couldn’t escape the grasp of her. Willingly, I became a sexual prisoner day in and out. Never knowing how it began. As I read the weather column, the situation outside worsened by my standards. With the sun in sight between two masses of grey clouds, I heard it again. Like some distant cry from a battlefield. A place I was made to feel unnecessary. I heard it, and I wanted to simply scream. It was the sound of trumpets and horns.