If I told you the name of the bar, you’d know exactly where we were standing, past the restrooms in that poorly lit corridor that leads to one of the fire exits. Well, standing may not be the word I’m looking for, I was leaning back against the door and he was pushing into me with even more enthusiasm than I’d been expecting, his tongue so far down my throat that mine was being pushed back with it, and his hands were absolutely everywhere, moving so quickly that even if I’d wanted to concentrate on one specific sensation, it would be over before I registered it. I thought about asking him to slow down, but what the hell. He was the coolest guy in the club by far, and the best looking one as well. I might not have intended letting things go any further than this, but while I had him he could have all the free feels he wanted.
And then… A crash behind me and suddenly the solid door that all my wight and his had been pressed against was flying open, and I was flying with it, out into the alley that runs behind the bar (yeah, now you know the one I mean), onto my ass and my back as well. I probably screamed; I know he yelled, because he tumbled with me and I don’t know if it was deliberate or not, but he rolled in mid-air and just missed crashing down on top of me.
I lay there for a moment, dazed and not quite certain what had happened; he, on the other hand, was on his feet in seconds, a look of absolute horror and concern on his face as he crouched beside me, asking if I was okay. And really asking, as though it was the most important thing in the world to him. Suddenly he wasn’t the coolest guy in the club any longer, he was the sweetest.
I laughed. “I think so. It just surprised me.” I stood up gingerly, and I didn’t believe it, but he was brushing the gravel off the back of my jacket, picked some out of my hair as well, and still sounding so solicitous that he could have been my mom.
I threw my arms around his neck. “Really, I’m okay.” And then, I was kissing him… I was pushing him backwards, across the alleyway and around the puddles, to the gray brick wall that lined the other side of it.
It was dark. There was a small light over the club’s back door, but it barely dented the shadows of the alley and, out of the corner of my eye, I realized I’d maneuvered him to the exact spot where we couldn’t be seen from either direction; a skip on one side of us, a couple of huge metal garbage cans on the other, and wrapped in so much shadow that somebody would have to walk right up to us to even know we were there. Which was when my hands slipped from his neck to his waist, undoing his shirt as they went. They clung to his hips for a few teasing moments and then, as I stepped back just a shuffle or two, they started unbuttoning his pants.
And slowly, very slowly, I dropped to my knees.