"Hey Johnny, how's it going?" the man at the door asked, with a friendly smile that seemed out of place, considering his imposing appearance.

"Well, let's see," I replied, closing the distance between us and grabbing him in a bear hug. I lifted until I saw stars, but was barely able to get his feet off the ground. "Damn Curt, either I'm getting old, or you put on weight."

With a sheepish grin he replied, "What do you expect? You've tried my wife's cooking. I'm lucky I can still fit through the door."

I laughed, glad to see him in such good spirits. It was only a few months ago that he was injured when a fight in the bar spilled out to the street. While trying to break up the melee, a thug pulled a knife and caught him under the ribs. He had been in the hospital for a week, then at home for another ten days before being able to return to work on restricted duty. I stopped by to see him several times, along with virtually everyone who worked or played at the club on a regular basis.

Curt was very popular, for good reason. He would always offer to help if you were loading gear into the club, he personally escorted every waitress to her car at the end of the night and, unlike many of the bouncers in town, worried about the people like me who worked at the club occasionally. He would always find a way to help you get work when he knew you needed it. There were a lot of sound engineers competing for gigs in the city, so it could be hard to make ends meet. Once Curt got to know you, he'd go to the mat to make sure the bands and agents knew who you were.

Some people tried to network with fancy advertising or by constantly making phone calls. I knew the best way to stay busy was to make friends with the people in the trenches and do a good job. Word of mouth had made me a fairly good living. That's why when there was a last minute cancellation for this gig, I received a panicked phone call from Mike, the manager of the club. The headlining band had told him they wouldn't work with anyone but me (and I knew that probably came from Curt whispering in someone's ear).

"So should I be thanking anyone in particular for tonight?" I asked with a smile.

He shrugged, trying to appear innocent. The truth was written all over his face. Curt liked to help, but only behind the scenes. It embarrassed him to take credit for his good deeds. I shook his hand and walked inside, not wanting to make him feel awkward. It didn't matter, we had an understanding. I knew that he was aware of how grateful I was.

The club was already loud, despite the small crowd. I made my way to the back as I slipped in ear plugs, not wanting to get a headache early, then have to sit through three hours of live bands. On the other side of the stage area was the DJ's booth, which was next to the load-in door. I said hi to Sherrie, the cute redhead who worked on Saturday night and stepped out the door.

The back of the club was about fifteen feet above the alley, with a catwalk leading to a second door with access to the freight elevator that serviced the whole building. I spent the next half-hour moving my gear up to the stage, then started working at breakneck speed to get set up in time. Even though I got called at the last minute, I knew from experience that the only thing people would remember is if the band started on time.

Everything went smoothly and we hit the sound check for the opening band a few minutes late, but finished within the designated time. I glanced at my watch and saw it was ten minutes until show time, so I went to the bar to grab a drink.

"Hey Connie, can I get a pitcher?" I asked the bartender.

She was beautiful and had an amazing body, like all the women Mike hired. He knew how to make an impression on the male customers by hiring attractive women who were friendly and smart as well. I knew to ask for a pitcher because Connie would soon be deluged with guys trying to talk to her and it would be tough to get a drink quickly.

While I was waiting, I turned to my left and saw a woman just outside the door talking to Curt. She had long blonde hair that was obscuring her face. What I noticed most, however, were her legs. She was wearing a pink miniskirt that showed off an incredible pair of long, tanned, toned legs. They disappeared under the skirt where I saw a beautifully curved ass that looked like something out of my dreams. It took Connie three tries to get my attention to hand me my beer.

I stumbled toward the stage, looking over my shoulder to catch another glimpse of her, wondering what she looked like. She stayed in the doorway, just out of my sight, so I finally gave up and sat behind the mixer, ready to start the show.

The singer gave me the thumbs up, so I brought up the system and the opening band started. I hadn't worked with them before, but their set list indicated they were playing all cover songs that were easy to dance to. This club got a lot of different acts, but I knew these types of bands really got the crowd going. Sure enough, about two minutes into the first song, several young women came out on the dance floor.

Two songs later, the dance floor was packed. I had the band dialed in, so my eyes wandered to the people dancing. It was a predictable group, mostly women in their early twenties, a few of them able to drag their boyfriends onto the floor.

I noticed one guy dancing like he knew what he was doing. He looked comfortable and confident, moving with gracefulness that most men lack. When he turned, I realized that he was dancing with the woman I saw earlier. What I saw took my breath away.

She was absolutely stunning, with a beautiful thin face, high cheekbones and full lips. Her blue eyes were so bright, they seemed to shine. The white top she was wearing was sleeveless and buttoned down the front, showing just the perfect amount of cleavage to be sexy. As she danced, her long hair flew around her, giving her a wild appearance that made me feel a deep longing, as strong as any I could remember.

I watched in awe as she moved like sex itself. She grinded against her partner, allowing his hands to access her body at will. Soon, a space had cleared for them as others enjoyed the wild display. When the song ended, the band began talking to the crowd about their web site and upcoming gigs, giving the dancers a chance to run back for another drink.

The woman disappeared in the crowd and I shook my head as I turned back to make sure everything was all right on the stage. 'How can anyone be that sexy?' I wondered.

It's not that I didn't date, but I hadn't been with anyone who looked remotely like her since I stopped playing in bands, years before. Being in clubs always gave me mixed feelings; being so close to so much beauty and passion, but still not a part of it. I did sometimes flirt with women in the crowd, but since my job revolved around making the band sound good and keeping everything running, there was rarely time. It would look really bad if there was a problem and the sound guy was gone, trying to pick up a girl. Because of the potential problems, I usually resolved to stay in my corner and watch life happening around me.

The band launched into another song, drawing my attention back to the stage. Within seconds, the dancers started returning to the floor. About halfway through the song, something I saw out of the corner of my eye drew my attention. My little hottie was back on the floor with a different guy. This dance was exactly like the last one except the guy was doing very little dancing and mostly groping.

'Son of a bitch, ' I swore to myself. 'That wasn't her boyfriend?' I watched her dance and looked over her new partner. He was a decent looking guy, but nothing like the first one. It was a little puzzling. I would have said she's just nice, but the dancing was well past that line.

My thoughts about her motives evaporated as I watched her short skirt twirl, giving me tantalizing glimpses of her black panties. It fueled the desire that was already growing inside me. I couldn't take my eyes off of her.

When the song ended, she went back to the bar, only to come out with a different guy during the next song. Over the next half hour, she danced with at least five different men. They seemed to have nothing in common, other than being happy over her attentions.

I watched as another song ended and she passed close by me, flashing a quick smile. Time seemed to slow as I took in every detail. The way the perspiration was making her top cling to her body, her breasts clearly outlined through the thin material. The scent of her perfume, the sexy way her hips swayed as she walked, her body language screaming that she was looking for something or someone.

The band launched into its last few songs and she headed back out towards me again, this time with the first man she had danced with. I could feel my heart beating harder and faster as I watched her glide with him. Their movements were so erotic it was like watching people make love. My mouth went dry as he dipped her, giving me a perfect view of her breasts down her top.

They danced for one more song, then she finished the last song of the set with a new partner. This one was the most puzzling of all. He was very plain, not well dressed and wasn't very smooth on the dance floor. She picked up on his tentativeness and moved her body against his, swaying her hips while dancing in one spot. This let him basically stand in place, but still move with her and look like he was competent. If I hadn't been watching closely, I probably wouldn't have noticed.

When the song ended, I went up to the stage and pulled all the mics so the bands could change over. The headlining band already had their gear set up and checked, so I had about a half-hour of downtime while Sherrie worked the crowd. I walked toward the back door to put my mics away.

As I finished and closed the case, I looked up in time to see a flash of pink. My mystery woman stepped by me and said something to Sherrie. After they laughed for a second, she stepped away from the booth and quickly looked in both directions, then pushed on the back door, stepping out into the night. Before it shut, the breeze from the motion of the door caused her skirt to blow up giving me a perfect view of her ass cheeks, barely covered by the lacy panties.

I knew no one was supposed to be out there, but after thinking about it for a moment, I decided it wasn't my job to tell her so. Just as I was getting ready to walk back to the bar, the image of the her dancing popped into my head. Something about the way she was behaving just didn't add up.

I've seen plenty of women just out for a good time. Often the really beautiful ones are trying to hook up with a good-looking guy or someone with some money to splash around. There are also ones who look for a good guy who'll treat them right. She didn't seem to fit into any of those categories I had grown accustomed to seeing.

An idea started forming in my head. I took a second look at the door, thinking about how amazing her legs and ass looked as she walked outside. The more I tried to tell myself I was crazy, the more I felt myself being drawn toward the door. I felt hot and was having trouble thinking about anything except how sexy she was and how she had been acting. There was a pounding in my head, drowning out the cautious voice I usually listened to.

I reached forward and pushed the door open, then stepped outside quickly, before I lost my nerve. It shut behind me, causing me to jump at the sound.

She was standing just in front of me, facing the alley, leaning against the railing. I could see all of her legs except for the last few inches hidden by the short skirt. Her legs were crossed and hips arched out in an exaggerated pose. I thought she was the most fuckable woman I had ever seen.

In the wild days of my youth, I did a lot of stupid things and was lucky to have gotten through it without a disease, a stalker, or a kid. I wasn't interested in quickies or one-night stands any longer.

Looking at the incredible sight before me, all that changed. All I wanted was the chance to be inside her, experiencing the amazing passion and heat that seemed to emanate from her.

Without thinking, I stepped forward and softly touched her shoulders, letting my thumbs rotate against the muscles in her neck.

"Mmm," she moaned, making no effort to turn around.

I realized she probably thought I was one of her dance partners, following her outside for some privacy. Her shoulders slumped and I felt her relax against the railing. Encouraged by her reaction, I massaged a little deeper, moving forward until my hips were touching hers.

"So do you like that?" I said in a throaty whisper.

"Oh yeah," she murmured, her voice barely audible above the noise from inside the club.

"You were putting on quite a show in there," I said softly, not knowing if she would realize my voice was one she didn't recognize. I continued my massage, beginning to work my fingers forward to the front of her shoulders before sliding my hands back to again use my thumbs on the back of her neck.

"Yeah, fuck him and his opinion," she slurred, sounding a little drunk. "Prim and proper my ass," she said angrily.

I smiled to myself as her words confirmed my suspicions. Instead of replying, I just increased the pressure on her shoulders, drawing a deep moan from her that I felt more than I heard.

I leaned against her harder and moved my hands to the sides of her head, massaging her temples. Within seconds I could feel her hips moving slightly, brushing against me. I didn't know if it was intentional or not, but she was definitely turned on and now I believed I knew why.

Moving my lips closer to her ear, I pressed my body against her completely. "You want to show him, don't you," I said, not stopping the motion of my fingers against her skin.

She moaned again and I moved my hands back to her shoulders, but continued to lean against her, careful to keep the contact light. I felt her body reacting to my touch. There was a slight shaking and her movement against me became more pronounced. The pressure was causing me to become erect, but I resisted the urge to grind back against her.

I leaned back a little to give myself some room and moved my hands lower down her back. She made no move to stop me as my hands reached down to the midpoint of her back, then moved toward her sides. My fingers reached around her ribs and brushed the edges of her breasts through the top. I felt her stiffen and knew that this was the moment that would decide how far this would go.

I ground my erection against her as softly as I could manage. She started to stand and I let her, taking the opportunity to slide my hands the rest of the way around her chest, cupping her breasts with my hands and rubbing her nipples with my thumbs.

"No," she moaned, making no effort to stop my touches.

"Shh, I thought you wanted to show him," I answered, hoping to tap into her anger.

She was quiet for a moment while I continued my touches, slowing them to a soft tease.

When she didn't respond, I said, "I don't think you want to show him at all. I think you want to prove something to yourself." With that, I deftly unsnapped the button keeping her breasts bound in the shirt and slid my hand inside. I pinched the nipple softly and kissed her behind her ear, just at the top of her neck.

She sighed and her body shuddered, but then she started to pull away. "I can't," she whined.

"You can and I think you want to," I said, squeezing her breast more firmly and grinding my hips against her, no longer trying to hide my intention or my arousal. "You're afraid he's right, that you can't let yourself go. That's what the show on the dance floor was all about. Trying to prove who you really are."

"Please stop," she said, so softly that I barely could distinguish the words.

"I will if that's what you want," I said teasingly, "but we both know you came here for something else."

While massaging her breast, I used my other hand to undo the remaining buttons until her shirt hung free. I took the opportunity to take both breasts in my hands, roughly rubbing the nipples and bringing louder moans of pleasure from her.

I knew she was too far gone to turn back. She was grinding against me much harder and made no effort to cover herself. I kissed the back of her neck, letting my tongue glide back and forth, searching for the areas that she reacted to the most. My hands slid across her skin and pulled her shirt back until it slid off the back of her shoulders and I pulled it down her arms.

"We can't," she protested, trying to turn as her arms came up reflexively, preventing the shirt from falling off.

"Don't turn around," I told her. "You want this... you need this to prove you're not the mousy little girl everyone says you are. This is your chance to do something you'll never forget. No names, no faces, just me fucking you out here where anyone could see you."

I felt a shiver run through her body as she looked down at the alley, realizing how exposed she was. There was a light overhead and anyone driving or walking past could clearly see us. I used her moment of surprise to return my hands to her breasts as I pulled her firmly against me. Tilting my head forward, I took her earlobe between my lips and began nibbling and running my tongue across it and the top of her neck.

She relaxed her body against me. "Put your hands on the rail," I said in a soft but firm voice.