Stop Fucking With Me - Sex Stories

Stop Fucking With Me

It wasn't planned. Maybe that's what made it so delicious, so unforgettable.

I could have been in the VIP room, getting coked up like the rest of us, or watching you from the loggias like I usually did. I could have joined you behind the decks as I've done on rare occasions; it would be a lie to say I didn't enjoy all the guessing and envious, 'who the fuck is that chick' stares. Of course, we had to be careful with that.

I was no one. I had to appear as no one - just one of the promoters, just a colleague. But behind closed doors, I was your all, your madness and your sanity, the only thing worth living for - your words, not mine.

That night, I decided to watch you from the crowd, to bounce my socks off to your music. I was standing in my usual spot that you showed me a few months back, where the acoustics were perfect between the giant side speakers, where the bass bounced back from all the walls, and the deliberate dent in the ceiling.

You usually preferred to play in one of the smaller rooms where you could play your kind of music, but that night, you were on the main stage as a warm-up to a progressive set, playing minimal and a darker side of progressive - my kind of music.

The first few songs were popular remixes of current hits, and I remember thinking, 'How boring. Come on, Mouse, you can do better than this.' We used to call each other all sorts of names, but most often, I was your Bunny, as in Duracell Bunny - always on the go - and I called you ...

... Mouse because you were my cute little pet mouse.

After the intro songs, with a smirk on your face towards me, you brought in the lyrics and beat of our favourite song. It couldn't have been more than half a minute, just a bit of the lyrics and quiet beats before you faded it into a pumping dance track.

You never played that song in any of your sets before, and to tease me like that was pure evil. I wanted to go up on stage and punch you. Hard.

Instead, I just smiled to myself, bouncing and spinning and grinning like an idiot.

You could play a wide range of stuff well, from techno and electro to minimal and softer tunes like deep and chill, but that day, you were in your element and drove me, well, all three thousand of us to insanity.

You were labelled as just a young, talented, upcoming DJ playing warm-up sets, but to me, you were the best fucking DJ on the whole planet. And that was even before I got to know you. Your music made me turn into mush inside.

I've never known obsession like I had with your music and with you.

After another two or three songs, you faded the lyrics in again; "Closer, closer," Xenia sang as the beats were thumping inside my chest. Just to play a trick on me and crossfade it out again.

Even from that distance, I could clearly see the satisfied sneer on your face. I held your stare and gave you the middle finger.

It was a game between us that you always tried to turn me on with your music, but that night, teasing me like that ...