Punk and Zen (5 page)

I lifted my head away from the assault, then dipped
it, questing for her mouth. My hands rested lightly on her parted thighs, and
as I slid my tongue between her welcoming lips, I softly brushed my thumbs
along the narrow strip of material that held her secrets. She gasped into my
mouth, and her body surged forward. I pressed my thumbs harder against her and
could feel the valley she wanted to welcome me into under the damp material.

“Are you sure?” I whispered into her ear, interrupting
the meeting of the mouths, and she bit my neck in response. I glanced up a
moment, toward the dance floor, and found Trace’s eyes upon me, an unreadable
expression on her ABC face. Burying my lips into Blue’s neck, I lifted
the flimsy material away with my right hand and stroked over the fine damp
hairs that lined her cleft with my left. Her clit was hard and wanted my
attention, and I complied, sliding my thumbs around its base, stroking it.

She was soft and slick, swollen with want and wide
open to me. Shifting my left hand palm up, I poised my index and middle fingers
right at her wet and welcoming entrance.

She moaned softly and eased back on her elbows, her
head hanging between her shoulders.

I leaned forward over her and slid my free arm around
her waist. When she raised her head to mine, I kissed her. “Are you sure?” I
murmured into her lips. “We can stop if you want.”

She grabbed my wrist. “Please, Nina,” she asked, and
kissed me deeply. “Fuck me,” she whispered into my ear, and as she leaned back
again, she pulled me with her, but still I stayed my hand, at her entrance, but
not in it, “just fuck me.”

Hey, you never deny a lady a direct request, right?

I kissed her again, slowly and sensually, and explored
the lovely rich wetness between her lips. With small and steady movements,
relishing the feel of her, I entered by slow degrees, getting to know her,
making sure she was more than ready. When the very tips of my fingers were
inside her, I felt more than heard her anticipating groan. That, and the
complete opening of body—you know what I mean, that sudden, total, there’s-just-no-barriers-here-I’m-wide-open-to-you
welcome that tells you “Now, right now!”—were the cue I wanted, had been
waiting for. It’s all about timing. I pulled her closer and in one swift,
almost savage movement, slid my tongue all the way into her mouth, pressed my
thumb hard against her clit and my fingers almost as far as they could go into
her pussy.

She gasped and shuddered, gripping the edge of the
bench with both hands, and, bringing one knee straight back, she stretched the
length of her leg over my shoulder. I slid even deeper inside that slick, tight
space, and the rhythm I set was fast and furious, the time for formality and
shyness way over.

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 looked 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.