I breathe in the air hanging over the dance floor, heavy with sweat, perfume and pheromones. My fingers dance over the controls of the mixing panel, adding a sax track to the guitar-driven song already pouring out over the dance floor, channeling the aggression built up by the guitar and bass into sex rather than anger. Quickly, I line up the next three songs; and if they have a distinctive sexuality, well, it’s better for the club, and my chances of getting a repeat gig, if the club's full of people fucking each other brains out in the restrooms rather than beating each other’s brains out on the dance floor.
I’m DJ Pon-3 for a reason, after all.
This is my first gig at this club, and my friend was the one who had to get it for me. I’ve mixed for school dances and friends’ parties, and a few fringe clubs out in Equestria, but Studio 54 is the first real club to give me a chance. I am not going to fuck it up.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the right thing, getting into the DJ scene. I’ll tell myself I could give it up anytime I like, but then I’ll feel the power of the music, the way it can manipulate the quixotic mood of the dance floor, and I know that this is a part of myself that I can no more deny than the color of my fur or my blood type. People say I’m talented, but I know I’ll have to work hard to be anything more than a mediocre mixer. Still, better to try and be the best mixer I can, than to walk away.
Of course, I’ve set myself a bar by mixing tonight that might well mark the rest of my career. Tomorrow night, DJ Conflux, my idol, will be mixing the sounds here. He’s a legend here already and has been mixing since before he came to Equestria, and they talk about his skill, his sense of timing and his control in hushed tones. My performance tonight will be compared to his tomorrow, and I have little doubt that the newbie will be deemed inferior to the master. Still, to hear him mix will be a lesson in itself, and well worth the cash I paid for the pass to get in. Did I mention he’s my idol?
“Nice save,” a voice comments outside the DJ’s booth, not that it’s more than a table, chair and mixing panel in the corner. I look up and feel like my heart just exploded.
He’s a god, well, close enough: A human with hazel eyes and a head of short, brown hair that looks as if he’s just woken up. His grey shirt and black jeans fit snugly enough, to the point that I can see that he’s got a body well worth checking out, very clearly. Abs of steel ain’t got nothing on this guy. And, if the outside weren’t drool-worthy enough, he’s tuned in to the atmosphere and the music enough to see the building tension I sensed in the club, and recognize the way I redirected it.
Yep, I’m in serious lust and I’ve never felt more horny in my life. I’ve never met a human before, there were humans in Equestria but they were few and far between. But that’s besides the point.
I’ll bet my blue mane has gone frizzy in the sweat-created humidity, and my t-shirt’s motto of “Somebody Has To Do Something”, which seemed so innocently humorous earlier tonight, strikes me as simply inane.
But still, this isn’t the first time I’ve been struck by a guy’s looks, and I can handle it. I’ll just take a toilet break and get myself off in the ladies. And probably later tonight after I get home, too; this isn’t a face that’ll go away easily, but for now I have to be civil and polite and not grab his shirt and kiss him senseless. It wouldn’t do to fuck him in the mixing booth. For one thing, stalli- err, men tend to be startled when a mare tackles them in public.
“Thanks,” I say, “it wasn’t that hard.”
He shrugs. “If you say so, name’s Steven by the way.”
“Name’s DJ Pon-3.”
“I’m sure that’s not your real name.” he remarks.
“While I’m working, I prefer to be called by that name. It keeps my mind on the job.”
“Ouch… That’s cold.”
I shrug. “Us plebs can’t really relax while we’re mixing. If I had the experience to relax, I’d be warmer.”
“You’ll get it; you’re a natural.”
“I’m a hard worker, you mean. But thanks. I appreciate the sentiment.”
He nods, makes a request, and returns to the masses, swallowed up by the crowd on the dance floor. I watch him retreat, and let a smile cross my lips as I watch what has to be the hottest butt I’ve ever seen vanish into the masses.
‘Dammit, I need that toilet break, like, right now.’
I line up a set of eight songs, starting with Steven’s request, and program them into the mixer, finally making a beeline for the ladies room.
Aaannd... all the stalls would be occupied! None appear to be being used for the purposes for which they were intended, either. I can’t wait for a couple to be finished, I need privacy now! The passageway out the back is unoccupied though...
Usually.
I forgot to add ‘usually’ to that sentence. Because he’s there: Steven, the human with the amazing ass, and sexy eyes. I stare at him, speechless, for one long, hard second. For there, in his face, is a look that I never thought I’d see. Long hard lust that scorches in intensity, and somehow, I know he’s there for the same reason I am.
The bass beat vibrates through the walls and up through the soles of my feet as I walk over to him, grab his shirt, pull his head down and bring my lips to his.
He must’ve gotten the same idea, because he opens his mouth over mine, sliding his tongue over my lips and into my mouth; the sensation is intoxicating, almost as intoxicating as the feel of his hands sliding up under my baby-doll t-shirt and stroking the fur on the small of my back.
‘Turnabout’s only fair,’ I think, running my hands up underneath his own shirt and stroking the long, lean, lovely planes of his back. I feel him groan as my fingers dance down his spine. His hips are already grinding against mine, thrusting in time with the throbbing beat that’s shaking the walls. We’re dancing in place, our hearts pounding in rhythm with each other and the music, I’d swear there’s no way I can be any more turned on, and we’re both still fully dressed.
He slips his hands further up my shirt, his fingers unhook my bra, and slide forward to cup my breasts. I break the kiss to catch my breath and he takes the opportunity to attack my neck with heavy kisses, as well as some light biting. I’m going to be wearing the marks tomorrow, but right now all I can think about is how I want that mouth, those hands, and that heavy, throbbing cock that I’m grinding my hips against. I slide my hands down under the waistband of his jeans, into his boxers, reaching around to the back. His ass is just as perfect as I’d imagined; soft, silky-smooth skin over firm muscle. I cup and squeeze and I can feel his sudden groan vibrating against my throat through his barrage of gentle biting. It mingles and meets with the vibration of the heavy bass and I can feel our rhythm reflecting the music.
As I feel him break away to catch his breath, I slide one hand over his hip towards the front of his jeans, using my other hand to squeeze his ass to get his attention. Seeing him look up, I look into his hazel eyes and whisper, “All right?”
He nods. “All right...” and without any further ado he’s in my hand, hard as steel, yet smooth as silk. Oh, this is going to feel so good...
I’m caught by surprise when his nimble fingers unbutton my jeans, slipping in under my panties, rubbing gently over my folds. He zeroes in on my clit and I arch back so hard, I damn near slam my head on the wall behind me. He strokes me in the rhythm that I’m stroking him, also in the same rhythm of the beat that’s pounding against us, and all I can think is how hot this is.
It's not like sex is new to me, but I've never taken a guy back here, always getting off alone while the beat throbs through my veins in the past. Did I really think that this wasn’t real life, that ‘DJ Pon-3’ was just a part of my wardrobe? The beat’s a part of me, the bass is the heartbeat of my soul, and I’ve never been so hot, so in tune with a lover, than with this human I’ve barely met, whose heart and soul throbs to the same rhythm.
Our stroking intensifies. Oh, fuck anticipation, I need him now. Pulling away from his body, and it’s almost painful to do so, I shove my jeans and panties down past my knees and reach for his jeans, only to find that he’s beaten me to it. Our eyes meet.
“Is this alright?” He asks.
“Do it now before I do it myself.” I reply. He positions himself at my entrance. I’m ready for him, but he seems content to tease me just a while longer. He begins rubbing his length against me and I moan in a mix of arousal and irritation.
‘Just do it already, I'm dyin’ here!’ To emphasize my point, I grab his sides roughly, careful to dig my fingernails into his skin a little. He seems to get the message and slowly pushes himself into me, sheathing himself to the hilt.
‘Oh dear Celestia.’ Has anything ever felt so right? He fills me up perfectly, and it’s all I can do not to shatter just from the feeling of him in me. And then he begins to move, thrusting in the rhythm of the music, helped by my hands on that perfect ass of his, pulling him in closer, closer because our heartbeats are beating in time with the music, my mouth’s sucking on his neck and all I want is this perfection to go on and on and on.
He has other plans, however, and pulls out of me. He turns me around so I’m facing the wall now; I can feel the heavy bass from inside beating against me, and the feel of his cock as it teases my hot opening. I groan loudly as he enters me from behind.
He doesn’t say a word or even make a sound at first as he thrusts into me, going faster and faster with each passing moment as the song changes once more, to one of an even faster rhythm. I want to cry out or call his name, but then I remember that I’m in public and there are people everywhere.
‘Fuck ‘em.’
I cry out, making as much noise as I want to, as I need to, hoping, however slightly, that the sound of the music inside is loud enough for people not to notice.
“Lean forward a little. That’s right,” he instructs.
I do as he says. My hands press against the wall, while his fingers move to my clit again. I want to move, to push back against his length, but find my body can’t move once he starts stroking me. All I can feel, is my body around him and his touch and... It’s amazing.
Since I can’t move, he thrusts up into me as much as he can, rocking his hips behind me. I close my eyes, just wanting to hold on to this moment. His fingers press down harder, and he uses his index finger to circle faster against my clit while his other hand moves up to my mouth. He brushes his fingertips against my lips and I flick my tongue out against them, tasting myself from earlier on his skin. I take one of his fingers into my mouth and moan at the flavor of me and him combined.
He begins moving his now-wet finger from my mouth, which I’m somewhat upset by, and up to my horn. When I feel his fingers wrap around it, my entire body goes rigid for a second. The shock of pleasure that comes just from him touching it can only be described as pure ecstasy. He begins stroking my horn, matching the beat of the music, and his thrusts. Whenever he enters me all the way, he squeezes the tip of my horn, and whenever he pulls out, he rubs the base of it. His fingers trace the grooves, and sometimes his thumb rolls over the tip. The combination of it all makes me putty in his hands, reducing me to moaning his name over and over again.
‘This guy’s amazing, I’ve never felt so fucking good in my whole life!’ I open my eyes, thinking that perhaps there’s some sort of magic involved, regardless of him being human, in what he’s doing, but there isn’t. Everything I’m feeling is something he’s doing with his own hands.
I’m on the edge again, so close to going over. “Steven, I’m about to cum! Please don’t stop!” As I scream out his name, I feel him pull me back against his chest, as his hands begin to grope my breasts. It’s too much for me. Without warning, my entire body convulses around him, trying to milk him for all he’s worth. I’m bucking wildly, but he’s holding me up against his body, keeping me from falling. My arms wrap around his neck tightly as I scream throughout the best orgasm I've ever had. At the same time, blue sparks erupt from my horn and light the entire alleyway up in a bright blue glow. I feel Steven move his hands to my waist, holding me up until the alleyway stops turning blue and my body stops shaking. It takes me a minute to regain my bearings, but the ever-present bass and the sound of Steven’s voice bring me back to reality.
“Hey babe, I’m dying here. I want you to move. I need you to move,” Steven says, breathing hard.
Without saying a word, I move, wrapping my tail around his waist and pushing back against him as fast and as hard as I can. Lowering me back to the wall, allowing me to use my arms to push against it, his hands move from my waist back to my breasts, cupping them and pinching my nipples as they bounce. I look over my shoulder at him, seeing his hazel eyes lock onto mine, or at least until I push back one last time, clenching all my muscles around him. He moans, and then gasps for air as his eyes shut tight.
I feel his body jerk behind mine as he cums, and I clench even tighter, wanting him to never forget this moment. I don’t want to forget it either, and I watch his face over my shoulder closely, memorizing every detail of Steven in the throes of complete ecstasy. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter, almost looking like he’s closing them painfully tight, and his nostrils flare, desperate for air. I feel his hot cum fill the deepest part of me, and I’m thankful, for a moment, that ponies and humans aren’t biologically compatible.
After a few seconds, he pulls away, his cum leaking out of me for a moment and I push myself off the wall, turning around and grabbing the collar of his shirt, bringing him in for a fierce kiss. We break apart after a moment and I finally get a good look at him. He looks thoroughly worn out, and I imagine I hardly look much better.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, in lieu of anything more sensible. ‘Wonderful, now he thinks I’m an idiot.’
“I’m good. You?”
“Good.”
He doesn’t move and neither do I. It’s surreal. The rhythm of the music changes, oh yes, my signal song, the last one in the lineup, that goes for four minutes. I use it to tell me to hurry up and get the hell back before the program ends.
“I’ve got to get back,” I say, standing up and pulling up my clothes. He starts to straighten himself up, and he hands me a folded tissue as I start putting my panties back on, causing me to pause for a moment. I look at him questioningly, but he just laughs at points at my leg. Blushing furiously, I grab the offered tissue and clean myself off. When I’ve repaired my appearance as much as possible, and saved what’s left of my dignity, I step up to him. “Talk to me after I’ve finished?” I ask, and kiss him again. I don’t want to let Steven go, maybe I only met him half an hour ago, but something, definitely not the mind-blowing sex, or at least I don’t think it’s the mind-blowing sex, tells me he’s special.
“Uh, sure,” he says, scratching his chin and smiling. I grin and run back to the sound booth.
-----20 Minutes Later-----
He’s gone.
I search the club for a half an hour and I can’t spot him anywhere. ‘Well, this is just wonderful; how the hell can I give my number to a guy who goes poof-I’m-gone on me?’
Finally, I give up, collect my discs and make my way to the exit. “Hey,” I say to Octavia Melody, a close friend of mine, who’s sitting at the door, carding the masses as they enter. She’s the one who got me this gig, and it wouldn't be right for me to just vanish on her.
‘Unlike someone else I can mention.’
“Hey,” she says in response, “oh, DJ Conflux left this for you.”
“DJ Conflux?” I ask. “He was here? You know what he looks like?”
“Sure I know!” she grins. “He was here tonight scoping out the place, that’s why he’ll be here tomorrow.” She sighs dreamily. “He’s so gorgeous, with those beautiful hazel eyes and that sexy smile, don’t you think? I saw you talking with him earlier.”
“Yeah,” I reply in a daze. ‘Steven? Steven was DJ Conflux, and he - I - Oh hell.’ Octavia sticks out her hand with a card in it.
I take the card Octavia offers without looking at it, and set off for home. Halfway there, I remember the slip of cardboard in my hand, and lift it up to read it in the glow of a streetlamp. It’s a pass to the backstage area of the club tomorrow night. ‘An excuse to see him again?’ I’m about to jam it in my pocket, when I see there’s something written on the back.
“Call me.” And a phone number.
-----The Next Night-----
I take a deep breath, girding my courage up. This shouldn't feel like this. ‘It’s not like we’re meeting for the first time tonight, is it?’
‘No, definitely not,’ I think, as my body warms in response to the memories. A final check over; electric blue mane, loose and short. Blue, silk baby-doll t-shirt, no motto this time. Black mini skirt, and finally, thigh-high black and white striped socks with ankle-high, doc-style boots to complete the outfit. ‘I look good.’
On an impulse, I dart over to a vending machine in order to buy two cans of lemonade, and then I enter the club. I show Octavia my pass but she just waves me through, smiling as I excitedly plunge into the masses.
There’s an undeniable touch of genius in the mixing of the music that pumps out of the speakers. Each song seems calculated to drive the energy higher, pushing the club-goers onto the dance floor. I smile as I weave my way across the floor.
As I make my way up the mixing booth, I see that he is wearing his signature black bandanna around his face, it a has simple golden music note embroidered on it. ‘If I’d seen him with that last night, I would've known who he was in an instant.’ His eyes are focused on the mixing panel I was bent over just the night before, and his long, skillful fingers are resting on the bass control.
“Nice to know I’m not the only one addicted to bass, eh, DJ Conflux?”
He jumps, fortunately jerking his hands away from the mixing panel, barely avoiding a feedback squawk or other embarrassment.
“Uh, hey. Sorry,” I apologize sheepishly. “Um, want a drink?” I offer him one of the still-sealed cans.
He looks at me, and his eyes widen appreciatively. “Sure.” He pulls his bandanna down, takes the can, and pops the ring, slugging down the delicious, cold liquid.
Sipping from my own can, I look over at him; now that his bandanna's down, I recognize him from last night. ‘Whew, this would've been awkward if Octavia had been wrong.’ I take a deep breath before deciding to take the bull by the horns and do what I came for. “I’m Vinyl Scratch. Want to talk for a while?”
He blinks, and then a slow grin spreads across his face. “Sure. Let me set up the panel for a while, okay?” I watch as he finishes of his lemonade and quickly programs a playlist of nine songs. Standing back up he looks at me. “Do you really just want to talk?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.
I flash him a foxy grin, he smiles back and stands up, grabbing my hand and leading me out back. As we're leaving I notice the music becoming more upbeat, the added sound of prominent saxophone to the guitar-driven song raising the already positive mood of the club a few more notches. We reach the back door, but I jump into his arms and wrap my legs around his waist before he can open it. He grabs my ass to hold me up and I pull his bandanna off of him and wrap it around my own neck. He raises his eyebrow but I just pull his head down to mine and kiss him roughly, careful to grind my hips against his for a moment. I broke the kiss due to a lack of air, and looked into his familiar hazel eyes. There was a glint in them made my whole body tingle. ‘Man, I'm going to be sore tomorrow.’
Author's Note
My first story since my return from exile. Squee! Ahem... anyway I just wanted to thank ShimmeringStallion for editing yet again, somehow he can put up with my shenanigans during our sessions. If you read the header then you'll know that this was made after I listened to "Hey Baby" by Deadmau5. I'd link it but it's kinda NSFW so I don't want to upset anyone. Check it out, I'm no sure how old it is but It's enjoyable to play very loudly when around strangers... BUT Please let me know your thoughts, comment, any type of feedback please. If you like it, then thumb it up, if not then let me know why. Thank you all so much for reading!
Stay Classy Everypony - CobaltDrake
