What's in a Name? Ch. 02

((Some author's notes:

The legal drinking age where I am is 18, hence no characters are engaging in illegal activity since they're all over 18.

Once you get past the first section break ('*') there's some plot that will make more sense if you've read the previous installment. Before then you should be okay with no prior knowledge.

Lyrics are from the Special D song 'Come with Me'))

*****

The club pulsed to the electric thrum of the speakers, the dance floor packed with sweating, writhing human bodies driven by the force of the beat. Strobe lights lit the floor, tracing across the sweat-slicked mass of people and creating strange patterns in air clogged with moisture and artificial fog.

Away from the grinding, pulsing rhythm of the dance floor, things were no less intense for the lack of physical pressure. People gathered around the bar, looking for drinks for themselves or the night's conquest. People gathered in groups around the various tables and booths, engaged in activities ranging from friendly chatting and drinking to furtive sex in the dark corners.

Even the lineup to the unisex bathroom was filled with this throbbing tension, as couples waited for their turn at a bathroom stall while grinding and groping and doing anything and everything they could manage while still having clothes on.

Through the intensity walked Robert Allan. He seemed like a steady rock in the thrashing waves of humanity, his tailored suit and polished shoes standing out amongst baggy jeans, tank tops and girls who were wearing little more than bikinis.

Bob headed straight for a door in the back, detouring only to go around the dance floor so he wouldn't be caught in the sea of bodies which ebbed and flowed there, and nodded at the bouncer. The bouncer, who was nearly seven feet tall and looked like he'd developed muscles that other people didn't even have, nodded to Bob and quickly got out of the way. There was respect in the gesture, and a keen eye might actually pick up on the slight hint of nervousness that the big man experienced around Bob.

"Aaaaaaallllllright all you party people!" As Bob headed up the stairs which lead to the DJ booth, the current DJ grabbed the microphone and shouted over the Britney Spears mix he was piping in through the speakers. "Are you reeeeeadddddy for a little hard bass?"

The mood in the club shifted the moment that the DJ finished his question. Where before there had been a palpable feeling of anticipation, a strange overlay to the sexual tension which filled the room, a wave of euphoria burst out over the crowd. It started on the dance floor, where people cheered and leapt into the air, and quickly spread to the rest of the club like a fire in a dry field.

"Well, you'd better get ready for Cooooooooooaaaaaach Hard Bass!"

Bob smiled at the DJ, and seamlessly replaced the other man at the turntables. His grin broadened as he looked out over the club and could see the reaction to his presence.

His first act was to kill Britney. He grabbed the record and removed it, the music scratching and cutting out in the middle of a strained verse. The cheers got louder as the first two notes of his set, two heavy bass beats which literally shook the entire building, spread like a shockwave across the dance floor.

'Iiiiiiiiiiiiit's Friiiiday!' He cut an annoying sound bite he'd taken from the local radio station across the thrumming baseline of his standard beat, then scratched that too as it finished. He could see people getting restless, especially those who hadn't heard him spin before. Smiling, he launched into the actual first song of the evening's mix.

'At the end of every week, each one of us becomes a freak.'

Slower than Britney Spears, with a more seductive line behind it, this song got people's attentions and restarted the energy on the dance floor. People came to hear him spin so they wouldn't have to listen to whiny chart-toppers and inane rap, and he wasn't about to disappoint them.

'Tonight the DJ makes us move under the sweat drops from the roof.'

The rhythm on the dance floor changed noticeably as the song progressed into a twisting melody wrapped around a seductive vocalist. It wasn't the original mix, or vocalist, for the song, but he liked it much better. The singer he'd found gave the song a more sultry feeling, and took the frantic edge off of it. Combined with his own House influences, it curled and twisted around the minds and bodies of the dancers and they began to grind together in time with the song.

'Each time you let the bass beat hard to know we all spend now apart.'

He could see the sweat literally dripping off people as they twined their bodies and vibrated to the beat, and it made him smile. He knew Amy always wondered where he got his music, but he hadn't told her before that he mixed it himself. Here he didn't have to be Bob, here he was Coach Hard Bass, drilling the club people in what real music sounded like.

'Just activate your energy lets sing the song and come with me.'

As he settled into the song, which he'd purposefully added long breaks between lines to in order to have a little solo fun, his attention wandered from the crowds of people below and instead focused on the instruments in front of him. While he wouldn't consider himself anywhere near a master of the art, he knew what people liked, he knew how to make the music feel like a slow seduction.

'Tonight the DJ makes us move under the sweat drops from the roof.'

It started with the lyrics and a small, intrusive beat. Like a pick-up line, it gave you some insight into a person's character, but not enough to really know them. As the instrumentals picked up and worked their way in, it was like that first date as you got to know the song, came to understand who and what it really was.

'The speaker system brings the sound,'

By the time you reached the chorus, it would feel like your first sexual experience. You knew who the person was in real life, you knew the social front that they put up for everyone to see, but you didn't know what things would be like when you were all alone and there was only your flesh separating the two of you.

'And light effects are spinning round'

He smiled, and could see the effects already. Even those who were unsure after his brutal treatment of popular DJ songs and tricks were starting to warm up to it. They got into the swing of things and let their real selves come out, dancing and twisting in the throes of their newfound love.

'All the people on the floor they shake their bodies cry for more.'

The Coach was so caught up in the music that, at first, he didn't notice the woman who had come up into the booth. A small cough, barely loud enough to carry over the din of the music, brought his attention around to her though.

"Hello?" Bob looked confused, although that was mostly because his attention had been on the music and not because he was confused about what was going on.

'Never let this feeling go and let the music take control.'

"Hello. I, umm... I heard from someone that more than just your bass is hard." She winked, and Bob felt himself immediately respond. The atmosphere was already filled with the heady scent of human sweat and arousal, and the sight of an attractive woman in scanty club clothing standing in his booth caused his cock to rise and swell within his pants.

"Oh, did you now?"

'Forget your problems and be free,'

Bob smiled and made a point of looking her over. She was in her early twenties, probably only five or ten years younger than he was, and took care of herself. Her body, which was prominently on display in a small halter top and a tight miniskirt, was alternately trim and curved in all the right places. Her breasts were large considering how fit she was, and they were accented well by a hole in the front of her top which revealed a dangerous amount of cleavage.

"Yes..." She took a few steps forward and ran a hand down Bob's cheek and across his neck. "I also heard that you can spin and fuck at the same time."

'Enjoy this moment, come with me!'

"Well, I need to find out where you're getting this information." Bob smiled and took one hand away from the turntables to grasp her waist and pull her closer. The length of her warm body pressed up against his, and he could smell the peaches and cream of the perfume she'd put between her breasts. "It seems all my secrets are out."

"Yes, well..." She leaned closer, crushing her breasts up against the front of his jacket and putting her free hand on the bulge in his crotch. "I think this is a skill I'd like to see."

'Turn it up!'

"Hmm... I don't think I can deny such a beautiful fan's request, now can I?" Bob smiled and winked. He had expected this tonight, though not so soon. Still, if the bouncer had let someone up, it's because he knew what the woman wanted with the Coach.

"No, I don't think you can." She laughed a little and then turned around.

Bob removed his hand from her waist and put it back on the turn tables, keeping half his attention on the music while he watched her take off her clothes. She pressed her body up against his, grinding the leather of her skirt up against the expensive material of his pants while taking off her halter top.

He had first suspected she was wearing a strapless bra, but when her shirt came off it was obvious that she'd been keeping herself in with the halter alone. The globes of her breasts, tempting and round and topped with the two delicious cherries of her nipples, immediately came free. She looked around and, seeing his approval, pressed herself up against him again.

"Mmmm, maybe it really is true..."

One of her hands found its way into Bob's pants, bypassing his underwear and tangling her fingers in his pubic hair, while the other started to pull her skirt down. It was very short to begin with, barely covering the bottom curves of her tight ass, and when she pulled it off Bob could see that she wasn't wearing any panties either.

Bob moaned as her hand encircled his rigid shaft, pressing himself closer against her warm, naked body. She grinned and undid his pants, letting him pop free when she pulled down his underwear as well.

"Ha! Well, that confirms the first part." She licked her lips while watching the length of his cock bob free in the air, then glanced at the turn table, where his deft fingers were still manipulating the equalizer and winding the beat around the people in the club. "What about the second?"

"Mmm... well, one way to find out. Come on up." He took one of his hands off the various knobs, dials and records to pat the middle of the turntable. When she looked she noticed that, sure enough, there was a blank spot that looked to be covered with soft material of some sort right in the middle of the turn table. It seemed like a strange addition to the device.

"Is that custom?"

"Oh yes."

She laughed and did what he said, hopping up onto the table and spreading her legs. Bob looked her over again, letting his gaze linger longingly on the length of her entire body. When he got to the pink line of her pussy, and the curves of her ass just visible on the edge of the turn table, he felt himself go even harder in response.

Bob was about to get to his knees in front of her, and worship her pussy with his tongue, when she put her hand on his chest.

"That's not necessary..." She grinned, and Bob could see what she meant. Even in the dim light of the DJ booth, he was able to see that her pussy was already slick with her arousal.

'...come with me...'

Keeping his hands where they needed to do their job, Bob thrust himself into his groupie. She moaned as he parted her labia and slid inside her, and he shuddered in ecstasy as her tight, warm pussy gripped and accepted him. He slid in easily, filling her with the length of his hard cock, and they both gasped as he filled her.

The song, which was reaching a strong instrumental portion, started to become more frantic. His normally sultry, deep and low House beats transformed. As he slid into and out of the girl on his turn table, the music increased in BPM and melody. He pitched up the voice slowly, increasing the speed on the vocals to match the beat and in turn sending the crowd into a frenzy.

He doubted they could see what was going on in his booth, or that the woman would care if they could, and devoted his attention to what he was doing. The motion of his hips thrusting into the woman sped up along with the beat, and she cried out loud from the pleasure. At some point she threw her arms around his neck and transferred her weight to him instead of the turn table, wrapping her legs around his waist as well.

She was strong enough to hold herself up as her hips thrust greedily at him, swallowing his cock, and he could feel her strong inner muscles working along his length, stroking and gripping him while he was inside her. The intense pleasure of it made them both cry out loud.

'... come/come... come with me...'

"Oh... come on! Fuck me!" As she got closer to her climax, she got more vocal, and her thrusting became more insistent. Bob could feel the rising pleasure causing her muscles to spasm and contract around him, intensifying the pleasure of being inside her.

"Oh ya! Fuck me, Coach!"

If Bob had been thinking, he might have been amused by the fact that neither of them knew the other's name, but instead he was filled with the intense pleasure which was beginning to become the only sensation he knew.

As she rode him to their mutual climax, they both cried out one last time, and the music burst into an almost cacophonous pace, driving the dancers to leap and twist with the power of it. Bob felt himself swell and burst inside her, his hot seed filling up her tight pussy as she came too, the warm wetness of her orgasm surrounding him and mingling with his own cum.

"Oh wow..." After a long moment of standing there, the Coach working the turn tables and the woman clinging to him, she slowly dismounted, wobbling a little as her legs took her weight. "That was amazing."

"You're telling me." Bob laughed, and slowly the intensity of the music waned.

The speed of the beats slowed, the pitch of the vocals came back to normal, and people went from madly twisting to more sedately grinding with each other throughout the club.

"Haha... I can't believe you actually can do that."

"Believe me..." Bob smiled and shook his head, a little sad to see the woman putting her clothes back on. "It took a lot of practice."

"I'll bet."

The woman came over and kissed him, then started to head for the exit to the booth, wiggling her ass in an exaggerated manner as she left.

"You can bet I'll be back for your next set."

"I'll be waiting."

*

Later that night, Bob's set ended and he found himself back on the dance floor. Normally a DJ would play all night, or at least for most of it, but the management knew that the reason people consistently showed up for the Coach's sets was that they were short and infrequent. If they happened more often, people would get bored and stop coming.

Still, it was late, and the dance floor was less than half full by now. As Bob walked through the club, he could see people leaving in new pairs or old groups, filtering slowly back out into the streets.

One couple caught his eye, though. In a booth in the corner he saw a man trying to get a woman to accept his attention. They both looked very drunk, but she still kept refusing him, shaking her head and pushing him away as best she could. It was a common sight, and Bob would have been content to leave it to the bouncers, except that in one sinking moment he realized he knew the girl

"Come on, Amy, just one kiss... and maybe a fondle... you're so sexy." The boy, who Bob didn't know, managed to corner Amy and looked like he was going to actually get his way.

"No, Vic... come on... come on, stop." Amy was struggling, but not very well. Bob knew she was very strong, but Vic looked like he could lift her with one hand.

"I think you should listen to the lady." Bob's voice, coming into the middle of the argument, was low and cool and for a moment it seemed like Vic hadn't heard him.

"Hey, pal! This is none of your business." Vic, turning around and seeing Bob there, grinned viciously. "Get outta here old-timer."

"Once you've left the nice lady alone."

"Lady? No fucking way, this girl here's a slut." Vic wobbled a little, then turned back to Amy. "See? I'll prove it." Vic's hand went for Amy's breasts, trying to fondle them, and he laughed.

He didn't make it all the way, though. Bob's hand gripped Vic by the wrist and stopped him from actually touching Amy, who was making protesting noises.

"Leave her alone."

"Hey, fuck you!" Vic pulled his hand away and got to his feet. He must have been a football player, or just worked out at the gym a lot, because he was huge. In fact, it looked very much like he could bench press Bob without much effort. "I said get outta here!"

"And I said no. You seem to have a problem with that word tonight." Bob didn't back off in the slightest, standing his ground against the larger and angrier Vic.

"Here's a problem for ya!"

Vic tried to take Bob in the jaw, hoping to daze the older man, but for some reason his fist reached nothing but air. Bob managed to dodge and move out of the way before the punch even landed.

This didn't stop Vic in the slightest, and a second jab, which should have taken Bob in the temple, never landed either. Instead, Vic yelled in pain as what seemed like a ball of lead struck him in the stomach. Pain turned to fear as a hand gripped him solidly by the shoulder, and then he felt the momentum which had previously been trying to knock Bob out transferred into forward motion.

Bob twisted his upper body as he gripped Vic, and, using the heavier man's strength, tossed Vic several feet through the air and onto the floor. Vic's breath, what was left after being hit in the stomach, whooshed out of him. For a moment, it didn't seem like that was the end of it as Vic started to get up, but then an expensive shoe pressed itself painfully against his windpipe.

"Are you going to leave now?"

Vic, his air flow cut off and the world starting to spin, coughed and spluttered and tired to nod.

"Good."

All of a sudden, the shoe was gone and so was Bob. Vic coughed and swore and struggled to his feet. His face was bright red, from embarrassment and near strangulation, and for a moment he looked like he was going to take another swing. Then he remembered the feeling of flying, falling and crashing, and instead burst into a run for the door.

He nearly made it outside before a bouncer grabbed him and took him to the alleyway behind the club to teach him some lessons about pressuring women and assaulting DJs.

"Bob?" Amy, getting unsteadily to her feet, looked rather confused.

"I'm here, Amy." Bob smiled at her, and then moved forward to take her into his arms. She went willingly, almost falling against him, as he pulled her close.

"What... are you... doing here?" Amy was having difficulty forming sentences, and it quickly became evident that she almost couldn't stand without Bob's help.

Taking his jacket off, Bob wrapped it around her shoulders to protect from the chill outside, and then started to steer her towards the door.

"Looks like I'm rescuing you."

"Hehe... my hero." Amy smiled dreamily up at him, then stumbled over an empty beer bottle on the ground. Bob's steady grip kept her from falling, though. "Where... where are we... going?"

"I'm going to take you home."

"No!" Amy jerked in surprise and made an attempt to escape her coach's grip. She didn't make it, of course, because Bob was afraid she would fall if she did. "I... I can't go... go home like this..." She did manage to turn and glare at him, and a surprisingly coherent gleam made it through the haze. "Besides, how would you explain it to my mother?"