SRU Turnabout
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Jazz Turnabout free porn video
March 8th, 1929
Jazz music and alcohol flowed as wealthy patrons flaunted the law of the
land. Every vice was serviced here at the Seven Scriptures, the
seediest dive in town. It was temple to excess, a place where even the
most ardent Temperence Leaguer would find tempting.
Bones Malone, notorious gangster, took in the smell of it all. He loved
the stink of this town, this den of sin. It filled his pockets with
money, and that meant power.
Looking up at the stage, Bones hollared along with the rest of the
johns, as Jenny Peacock strutted on stage. She was a tasty piece of
meat, even for a... woman of such deep complexion. Full lips were
painted bright red, while a peacock feather dusted white graced her
forehead. The oversized white feather fans contrasted so nicely against
the blackness of her skin that what tantalizing glances given of her
perfect body were enough to give all of Bone's guests fits.
Of course, they didn't know what Bones knew. The gangster smiled as he
fingered a necklace beneath his coat.
Jack Jefferson had been a boxer from down south, too big for his
breeches but one of the most talented featherweights in the ring. But
he had refused to take a dive and put two of Malone's heavy hitters in
the hospital. And Bones just couldn't let that slide.
So he'd gone to one of the old country boys, fresh off the boat and
filled with tradition... and traditional solutions to problems. The
name was just his idea of a joke.
The results spoke for themselves. Whatever trace of masculinity Jenny
still had, it didn't show in those thighs, that rack, those lips.
Muscles that had once been the terror of the arena now were used for
quite a different purpose, as dark flesh rippled from the motion that
tore off pieces of the already slight garment she was wearing. The
crowd cheer as the dancer kicked high, giving the lucky boys in the
front row a look at heaven. The band cranked the tempo up, and the
dance became sleazier without losing any of the grace involved. It was
hypnotic.
Malone adjusted his collar. Was it warm in here?
Faster and faster the Peacock twirled, bringing the crowd closer and
closer to ecstacy as her feathers concealed less and less. A slip, a
momentary look at an ass that could not be more perfect had it been
sculpted in clay. by a master artisan Her dark skin glistened under the
exertions. A ballerina would be jealous of her en pointe as she
concealed her secrets with her feathers, one foot in the air. A
blissful smile was on her face as she as she looked directly at Malone.
Malone's eyes were fluttering as pressure built down below. He
unbuttoned his shirt as the heat rose. He wanted to say "Help", but
there was not an eye in the speakeasy on him. Every manjack in the
establishment was watching the show. Like a magician's trick, the
audience was missing the real magic.
On the floor, Malone watched as dots shot up his hands. Mediterranean
complexion darkened, darkened, darkened as the melanin spread down past
his sleeves. "Dis... dis ain't right." the gangster said, his voice
cracking as he did so.
The pressure that had been building in Malone's loins burst, causing
spasms of pleasure to run from stem to stern. There was a vibrant CRACK
as Malone's spine realigned, two more as hips shifted to their new
location.
By now, even Malone couldn't look away from Jenny Peacock, despite the
rapidly changing circumstance. It was like she was a universe, an ever
enticing look into an infinity of finely formed figure, beckoning to
her, and her alone.
She. Her. Even as whatever was warping her flesh continued it's work,
it also was chipping away at the former gangster's mind. Bones Malone
was fading fast. That wasn't her name. It was Melony. Melony Boon.
The crowd was giving a standing ovation to Jenny as Melony clawed her
way back to her feet. The performer gave a theatrical bow, and then
once again locked eyes with Melony. Electricity shot down Melony's
spine, and as Jenny sauntered off stage, giving cheering patrons one
last glance at her glorious posterior, Melony followed her in a trance.
Backstage wasn't the glitz and glamour of the front, the velvet of the
stage giving way to cracked wood and changing rooms. One changing room
in particular was calling to Melony. The placard said Jenny Peacock,
but that wasn't all. As Melony watched, her name seemed to fade into
existance, right under Jenny's. A look of perplexion appeared on her
face, as she knocked twice.
"C'mon in, sugar."
The room wasn't big, or particularly nice. There was a cot in the
corner, a pin-up of Jenny over it. The real deal sat at the end of the
room, wiping sweat from her brow in front of her mirror. She spun
around just as Melony was about to speak up. "I bet you poor thing are
wond'rin' what happened to you."
The black amazon of a woman locked the door and ushered her to the
mirror, allowing Melony to see herself for the first time. "Ya see my
dear, Bones wasn't the only one who knew someone from the old country."
She reached into Melony's ample bosom and retrieved the talisman. "This
left a magical trail, doll, one a shaman trained in hoodoo could trace,
giving the curse to it's giver, but at double the potency."
It was true. Although Melony was roughly the same height as Bones, that
frame was all leg, with athletic shoulders and an unbelievable bust.
She didn't flinch when Jenny stuck a hand down her shirt, and soon that
groping hand was joined by two more. "Mmmm..."
Melony tried to sputter in protest as the action moved from the mirror
to the cot. "But... we're... both... girls...we... can't..?"
Jenny shut her up with a long kiss, tongue included. "Honey, you've
been listening to that Catholic education of yours for far too long. I
could do things to that body that would make all your saints weep." She
paused to consider it. "Although, I must say you Catholics do love your
punishments." She slapped Melony's ass hard, causing a high yelp. "I
can use that."
The springs of the cot squealed as Jenny topped. She never let Melony
get too secure, switching erogenous zones every time it seemed like she
was on the edge of maxing her pleasure. She playfully bit her partner's
ear as fingers sensuously traced up beautiful black thighs until they
reached her hips, where they skidded to her sex.
Melony couldn't think, couldn't feel everything but that erotic mix of
pain and pleasure as fingers penetrated her, massaging her until the
pressure that built could not be held back. Her eyes fluttered as the
feelings shot past what she could handle. There was one final burst,
and Melony fell deep into the cot, comatose from how good the sex had
been.
Jenny smiled down. This had been revenge yes, but also to share this
sensation with the one who had given it to her.
----
Jenny Peacock and Melony Boon. Their act drew for miles, even once the
Depression really took hold. The risquer the dance, the more came. And
sometimes, for the most enthusiastic of their customers, they would
invite back for a special dance, the two of them all alone in the
backroom.
No man ever saw the dance more then once, but women were always begging
for seconds.
End
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