by JD Glass
I felt her pussy tighten around my fingers, and, instead of sliding in and out, I stayed deep within her, moving easily through her wetness, fucking her with short thrusts as her hips pushed back against me.
“That’s it, baby,” I whispered, “that’s it.”
Encouraged, she groaned, grabbing the edge of the board with one hand, a leg now pinning my arm, a heel dug into my ass, and she groped around for something else to hold on to. She grabbed the microphone.
“Oh, yeah, baby, fuck me like that, just like that,” she groaned, chest heaving, her body a glorious wave. Using my hips, I pressed farther into her, ABC the weight of my body against hers adding intensity to the pressure on her clit and the fingers inside.
Her pussy tightened again, a hot suck on my fingers as she undulated against me. My clit, already throbbing, jumped with intensity. I love, I mean, really love, the feeling of a woman getting ready to come.
“You’re so tight,” I whispered throatily. “Go ahead, squeeze me, baby, hold me in you.” She was gonna come, and I was making sure she would, but good. Fucking hard, and fucking good. I increased the pace.
Blue let out a small, high-pitched gasp and gritted her teeth a moment. I painted stripes along her neck with my tongue, then found a spot to focus on. Nibbling and sucking, I stayed there and realized she was speaking, chanting something, over and over.
“So good, so fuckin’ good,” she ground out repeatedly through her teeth. The sound of her fuck-heavy voice seemed to surround me, and for whatever reason, I looked up a moment.
Suddenly I realized where I was, stretched across this girl, buried deep in her cunt, the knee on my shoulder pressed almost all the way back to hers, her head and shoulders thrown back against the Plexi, and the microphone keyed in her clenched hand.
Her pussy kept rocking, sucking my fingers, then started to spasm, squeezing and releasing. “Oh yeah, yeah,” she gasped out, and as her voice floated over the rhythm that played in the room, I thrust in her hard, fast, and steady.
I found Trace’s eyes upon me as she stood still upon the dance floor, the only one not dancing, really, and Van had seemingly departed to parts unknown. He’d probably gone for another drink or to the bathroom. Trace folded her arms over her chest, definite anger on her face as she watched me. Fuck her. This moment wasn’t about her.
Blue cried out, a sensual, breathy sound that floated over and around the dancers, mixing perfectly with the beat in the room, and with a final surge of motion, her body rose, sealing her chest against mine, her legs coming down tightly around my waist. She released her grip on the bench and tossed the mike to parts unknown, then put both hands on my face, bringing our mouths together. She sent that primal cry down my throat as I felt the waves go through her. I wrapped my free arm around her, supporting her, holding her close and my fingers still while her pussy softened and relaxed, and Blue buried her lips into my neck, whimpering softly.
“Shh…” I soothed, and I rocked her gently against me for a few moments, murmuring nonsense into her hair, hearing her breathing ease. She wrapped her arms loosely around my shoulders, and I very carefully withdrew my fingers.
“Boy!” she exclaimed airily as we came apart.
I cocked my head. “Not hardly.” I grinned. She caught the grin and smiled back, and in a moment we both laughed.
“For which I’m thankful,” she responded, laughing some more. She hopped off the bench and straightened her skirt. The scent of sex, her sex, hung in the box as I dug under the bench for the baby wipes. Now I knew why Darrel always made sure we had plenty.
I grabbed a few out. “Here,” I reached up and gently wiped off the light sheen that glowed on the skin of her face and neck, “how’s that?”
Blue took my hand and kissed the palm. “Very nice, thank you.” She smiled.
“It certainly was.” I smiled in return because I didn’t just mean the wipes. “Thank you.” I took my hand back, and in moments both of them were lemony fresh again. I gave the board a quick glance to make sure all was good in the world, and Blue began to ease toward the door.
“Hey, where you going?” I asked her, slightly confused. Hadn’t she originally said she wanted to talk?
“I guess…I should, um, let you work, right?” Despite the smiles all around, hers didn’t seem all the way right, and her eyes questioned me.
Oh no, this was going to become drama very soon if I wasn’t careful. “Hang out a sec?” I requested. “It’s okay,” I reassured her. I decided to scan the room—I wanted to catch the waitress’s eye—and when I finally did, I waved her over. She deftly picked her way through the crowd to the request window.
“Hey, Andra,” I greeted, “I need a plain cran and orange juice and”—I looked over my shoulder—“what are you drinking?” I asked Blue. She had to at least be thirsty, right? Besides, she was a guest in my booth.
“Corona.” She smiled at me, and this time her smile looked genuine or, at the very least, relieved.
“A Corona,” and I glanced back over my shoulder with a grin, “with lime,” I finished.
“I’ll be right back with that.” Andra smiled up and batted her heavily lashed eyes at me. “Anything else? Are you sure you’re, um,” she raised her eyebrows, “satisfied?”
Huh, what do you know. I’d always suspected Andra might have been flirting with me, and now I knew for sure. Cool.
“Hey, I’m just getting started,” I grinned back with a quirk of my lips, “but thanks—I’m totally fine.”
“So we hear,” she shot back, now smiling widely. She turned to go, then stopped. “I like your mix tonight. You’ve really got the, um, mood,” I watched her mouth as she ran her tongue along her teeth, “going.” She favored me with a smoky look, then slid back into the writhing throng.
“Thanks,” I called to her retreating form.
I glanced at my meters and returned to Blue, who had made herself comfortable along the back bench.
“Listen, I’ve got about forty-five seconds to set my next mix. Just hang back here a minute, go through the discs, see if there’s some tunes you’d like to hear, and I’ll see if I can fit them in, okay?” I asked her with a smile. I didn’t want her to think that I’d fucked her and wanted to forget her, but I really did have to pay some attention to my job. I was supposed to be working, after all.
I focused on the board and replaced my headphones. Andra was right, I mused, swaying to the beat; it was a good groove. I checked the next tune and adjusted my fades and timers for the next insert. I hadn’t spoken to the room for a bit, so it was time to be a little more interactive—with the whole room, I mean.
I reached for the microphone. Fuck. Where was my mike? Finally I saw the wire trailing across the board, where it had been tossed over the dividing screen. I grinned to myself. Well, hell, if it had gotten wrecked, at least it had been for a good cause, I figured.
Slowly reeling it back, I placed it carefully down where I needed it, checked my volumes again, and listened for my entrance. Okay, there it was. I eased the fade in, the end of one song flowing into the beginning of the next. I’d already brought the mood down as far as I wanted it to go. The one that was about to end had started the climb back up, and this next one would cement that move.
I reached for the microphone and keyed it. “Fellow freaks and frenzied followers,” I brought the mix up slightly and the volume down a bit, “you are in the Dominion with Nina,” I reminded them.
Whoops, hollers, and applause broke out across the room, and I stared out at the crowd as the dancers all paused to cheer me in the skybox. Usually, when I announced songs or just uttered some encouraging enthusiastic phrase, I got some enthusiastic hollers, but this, this was a standing ovation. I was momentarily stunned.
“Do it, Nina!” someone yelled over the music.
I was shocked out of my daze, and my ears burned with embarrassment because I was pretty sure that was not a reference to my DJing, although it could have been. Most people looke
d at the floor and each other when they danced, and they couldn’t really see anything behind the partition except for heads. Anything they heard they probably thought was just part of the mix, add-ins by the DJ to enhance the music and the mood. It seemed to have worked, intentionally or not.
“Experience Dominion!” another person yelled, and the crowd picked up the cry until it became a chant that reoccurred over the closing strains of music and beat that flowed through the room.
“Dominion! Dominion!” The sound from the eager dancers seemed to swell and grow.
I placed my hands on the board and studied the crowd a moment longer, their attention firmly on the skybox and not on the music, apparently. Hoo boy. I’d started something I’d had no intention of even beginning, and I wasn’t sure of how to go on or what they were asking for.
Scratch that. I knew. Fuck it, though. This wasn’t something I’d normally play with, but I was feeling reckless anyway, and the burning in my ears was nothing compared to the burning in my skin or the rising flood threatening to overwhelm me that being with Blue had done nothing to stem.
I set my headphones firmly, placed a hand on a fader, and keyed the mike. I brought the level up as I spoke. “Is that what you want?” I asked the room in a low and throaty voice. Cheers broke out. “Are you sure?” I pressed in the same low voice, bringing the fader up a bit more. The mix was still in the background, but now discernable through the other song. More cheers and applause.
I checked my timing and went with the rhythm. “Fine, then,” I purred. Careful now, timing, that’s what it’s all about, I reminded myself, listening for the entrance, “have it.”
I brought the faders up on full, and the mix was complete. The room was off and grooving, and I grooved along with them to the music. I pulled out the next few selections and positioned the tune that would follow on the board, checking my levels for time and volume.
Andra had come back with our drinks and set them in the request window. Done with my board for the moment, I picked them up—a cup of cran and orange for me, a bottle of Corona for Blue, and, wait. There was a third? Yes, another cup of what looked like cran and orange.
“Thanks,” I told Andra, who had waited to make sure I saw the drinks, “who’s this for?” I asked, pointing to the second cup I had left on the ledge.
“For you,” Andra grinned, “in case you’re too busy, um, grooving, to remember to get another.”
“That was very cool of you, thanks.” I smiled back. It was true, that was both cool and nice of her to do.
“You’re very welcome,” she answered, “oh, and by the way?” She stuffed a piece of paper into the hand that held the cran and orange cup. “You can start with me, anytime.” She gave me an appraisingly smoky look, then walked away.
Stunned, I blushed, then managed to collect myself. “I’ll keep that in mind,” I grinned and called to her back. Andra heard that and gave me a saucy smile, then wove her way through the dancers back to the main bar.
I shook my head. Yep, definitely flirting, I thought, ABC bemused. Drinks in hand, I found Blue still sitting on the back bench, and she favored me with a smile as I handed her the beer.
“Thanks for your patience.” I grinned at her, holding my cup up in toast.
“No worries,” she answered, seeming amused. “You’ll want to keep that.” She pointed with her beer.
“Keep what?” I asked, confused.
“That…” She reached over and plucked the paper I’d forgotten out from between my hand and my drink. She folded it neatly and tucked it into my sleeve, stroking my wrist as she did so. “You’ll want to keep it.” She grinned at me. “She’s very pretty.”
I wasn’t sure of what exactly to say, so I thought it wise to say nothing and merely gave her a little smile of my own. Sometimes, it’s the only thing you can do.
Blue merely smiled wider, then clinked the top of her bottle against my cup. I gratefully lifted the cup to my mouth and drank, the juice nice and cool, soothing even, as it slid down my throat. I was thirstier than I thought and drank rather quickly, and it was only somewhere between the second and third swallows that I realized there was more than juice in my cup. Ah, well, there went stopping for the rest of the night.
I finally settled back along the ledge next to Blue so we could chat. While the mix I had on wasn’t terribly long, at least not as long as the ones I’d had on before, it was long enough that I could take a break if I wanted.
“So, do I detect a bit of an accent?” I asked, remarking on the slight lilt in her voice. I’d noticed it much earlier, but this was the first chance I’d had to ask about it. We had been rather, um, distracted.
“Um, yes.” She glanced down. “Most don’t hear it,” she said finally, looking at me with what I suspected were pink cheeks and a faint grin.
“Ah, well, most don’t spend all their time listening for inflections in sound.” I smiled at her. “I tend to hear things others don’t. It’s charming, by the way,” I added with honest admiration. “It adds this lovely little roll to your voice. It’s really quite musical.”
This time she was definitely blushing. “No one’s ever told me that before. What a nice thing to say,” she finally said, and she studied me seriously.
I let her inspect me for a moment, not sure why she was so somber. And it was true, about her voice, I mean. The lilt underneath her words made everything she said lyrical, so why shouldn’t I mention it? It was lovely, even a bit sexy.
The silence grew longer. “Something wrong?” I asked lightly. The mood was getting way too serious, and I wasn’t comfortable. I also wouldn’t let it continue if I could help ABC it.
Blue seemed to give an inward shake and collected herself. She shook her head.
“No, nothing.” She nodded, then took a sip of beer. “It’s just, you’re not just trying to charm me, are you?” she stated more than asked.
I focused my gaze on her with greater intent because that confused me. Charm? For what? I didn’t get it—what the fuck was that all about? All I’d said was that her voice was lovely. Oh, she meant… Well, wouldn’t I have done that before we, um, I, uh, well, you know, before I let someone use my microphone for distance tossing? and I said as much.
Blue sighed, almost grinning in relief. “You’ve a point there, don’t you?” she commented, and rubbed my thigh.
I felt the strength of her fingers as they ran up and down the muscle, then lightly took her hand in mine and twisted a bit on the bench to face her. The flood that had risen through me before was starting to ebb, and I was finally starting to feel a little normal again—whatever that was.
I took a small sip of my drink and considered, then took another. Nope, it really wasn’t just juice. Funny how you couldn’t tell right away.
Finally, I put the drink down on the bench behind me, then faced Blue again. “So,” I began with a smile and her hand delicate and warm in mine, “you still haven’t told me where you’re from.”
Blue laughed, a sensual and somehow sophisticated sound. “I’m from the UK.” The curve of her lip was undeniably attractive as she spoke. “I’m spending the summer holiday here on the advice of a friend, well, an ex, um, sort of.” She grinned, but seemed slightly embarrassed. I can’t tell you why, but I found that attractive, too. “You know how these things can be.”
I nodded in polite agreement. In reality, I didn’t—know, that is. I dated, I occasionally fooled around, but my first girlfriend I hadn’t spoken to in quite a while, though I’d seen her at the club from time to time, and besides, I never dated anyone long enough to become anything other than friends, and didn’t want to, either. People, once you trusted them? Fucked you over, and I’d been fucked enough, thanks.
“She’s an American, from here, I mean. New York, actually,” Blue added.
“Don’t ask me if I know her.” I laughed. “New York’s a very big place.” That was something everyone from everywhere did, and as far as I can tell, still does, you know, the �
��hey, I’m from X,” followed by “oh, yeah? I know Y in X—do you know him/her/it?” I think it’s funny and sort of cute, even heartwarming in its own way, how we all want to reach for these connections, bridge the gaps of time and space/place.
“How big is Staten Island?” she asked me with a small twist of her lips and appraisal in her eyes. “Because that’s where she’s from.”
“Not nearly as big.” I answered, amused. “Sooner or later, you find that everyone’s someone’s cousin or sibling or something like that.”
“Well, that explains it, then.” Blue smiled. “You must be a cousin.” She put her bottle down beside her.
That was weird. “What do you mean?” I asked. As far as I knew, all the cousins I had in this state, and there were only two of them, were in grammar school, and in fact, they lived with their mom in my parents’ house.
“You look so very much like her, and there could hardly be two of you, could there? I mean, she never mentioned a twin of any sort, especially not with the same name.”
My head started to tingle, and I could feel the skin on the back of my neck tighten. This was more than the alcohol, this was a sign, a part of my brain said. Have another drink and don’t be a moron, the other part told me. Since that was the part that I thought made sense, I listened to it and took yet another sip of my this-is-not-juice juice. But still…
“What’s your friend’s name?” I asked, more than curiosity piqued. It could be possible. I mean, maybe I did have a cousin I hadn’t known of before. Lord knows, history, hell, the world is full of stories like that. Some of them even true. Okay, that’s the alcohol thinking for you, said the part of my brain that had just told me to have some more.
“Oh, no, not my Ann, but a girl she knew a few years back,” Blue corrected. “She has pictures, from secondary—I’m sorry—high-school yearbooks, and you look very much like her friend. But,” and as she paused, the expression in her eyes softened, “sadly enough, Annie’s friend passed away quite some time ago and you, ” she ran a finger along my cheek, “you’re quite alive.” Blue smiled sensually and showed me her teeth as she gently stroked my chin with her thumb. Her eyes lingered appreciatively on my lips.