Vauxhall Vixen
"Club promoter Zainab rules the Vauxhall nightlife scene. When DJ Derek needs her to book his residency, she shows him exactly what getting on her good side requires."
Every DJ in South London knew Zainab's name. She controlled the best venues, the biggest nights, the careers that mattered. Getting booked by her was the golden ticket.
Derek had been trying for months—demos, networking, begging friends of friends. Finally, she agreed to meet him.
She held court in a VIP booth, thick curves poured into designer clothes, surrounded by people who wanted things from her. When Derek approached, she waved everyone else away.
"You've been persistent. I like that." Her eyes assessed him. "But persistence isn't talent. Play me something."
He played her his best set on her private system—after hours, empty club, just them and the music. She listened with closed eyes, her thick body swaying slightly.
When it ended, she opened her eyes.
"You're good. Better than I expected."
"Good enough for a residency?"
"Maybe." She stood, walking toward him. "But I need to know more. About you. About what you'll do for your art."
"Anything."
"Dangerous word." She was close now, close enough to touch. "Let me see if you mean it."
She kissed him like she ran her business—taking what she wanted, no negotiation. Her thick body pressed against him, her hands already working his belt.
"I don't mix business and pleasure usually," she said. "But sometimes... sometimes the right combination creates something special."
"And this?"
"This is audition. Part two."
She bent over the DJ booth—his DJ booth, where he'd just played—and demanded he prove himself.
"Show me you can perform under pressure."
He showed her. The club was empty but the mirrors reflected everything, and watching himself take her from behind while she gripped the decks was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen.
"Yes! Don't stop! Harder!"
She came screaming into the empty venue, the sound echoing off the walls.
"Office," she gasped. "Now. I'm not done."
Her office was all leather and glass. She pushed him into her chair and straddled him.
"You passed part two." She sank down onto him. "This is part three. Stamina."
She rode him for what felt like hours, her thick body tireless, demanding multiple climaxes before she finally allowed his. When they finished, she was grinning.
"You've got the job. Starting Friday."
"That's it?" Derek asked, still catching his breath.
"That's it. You're talented, passionate, and you can keep up with me." She kissed him possessively. "Those are my only requirements."
"For the residency?"
"For everything." She stood, already fixing her clothes. "Friday nights you work. Other nights..." She smiled dangerously. "Other nights you work for me. Differently."
His Vauxhall vixen had made him. And Derek was more than happy to be her creation.