Pole Dance

by J. A. Hornbuckle

  "Night, baby," she murmured snuggling deeper into his embrace.

  To Jake's mind, having the home court advantage with Caitlin was even better than their first time together. His king-sized bed gave them more room to play and seeing her naked in it, hair tumbling around her shoulders and down her back, made him want to get inventive.

  Their play had actually started in the kitchen of all places when kitchen clean up was interrupted by sweet, slow closed mouth kisses that moved to long, slow, wet, open mouth kisses that evolved to Cait on the countertop with her legs wrapped around his hips and his tongue dueling against hers. Jake smiled as he remembered how her hips had jerked involuntarily as he had tugged her jeaned clothed ass along the counter, pulling her crotch to his, rubbing his hardness against the seam of her jeans as their mouths continued work on each other.

  Christ, she could kiss.

  Jake gave as good as he got and used his lips and tongue gently but thoroughly to heat her. She had made the most wonderful throaty mewls as he had begun to use his hands-- roaming her back, moving to the sides of her breasts then retreating as his mouth got more forceful on hers.

  "Please," she had moaned when his lips moved down her neck nipping, licking and sucking lightly. Her hips jerked again when his teeth had scraped lightly across her collarbone and her hands moved from his shoulders to embed themselves in his hair. She didn't have to ask twice as he quickly moved her up the stairs to his room, to his bed.

  It didn't take long before they were both bare and writhing against one another in the large expanse of his bed. And even less time before his mouth was between her legs, tasting her sweetness, as one hand played with her hard, pointed nipples and the other eased two fingers into the wetness he had created. He felt her pleasure ripple, tighten against the fingers inside before her whole body tensed, arching her neck back as a moan was ripped from her. His eyes were glued to her as she came, reveling in the pleasure he could see, feel and taste.

  Pleasure he gave her.

  "Oh my God, Jake," Caitlin moaned as he moved up her body that was still quivering in the aftershocks of her orgasm. He reached out and tagged the condom from the side table.

  "Let me," she said, her voice husky and eyes half-lidded with desire as she raised herself on one elbow before angling up to a full sitting position. She took the condom from him and carefully ripped the foil as Jake moved back, ass to heels, between her thighs.

  "Tell me how, honey," she said softly as she held the rolled latex and eyed his large cock that was pointed towards the ceiling. "'Cause I can't see how this," she wiggled the condom in emphasis, "is ever gonna fit that." She jerked her chin in the direction of his hardness and raised her eyebrows.

  He tried to keep a straight face, but he knew a grin had escaped when her eyes finally met his and her brows drew together in a scowl.

  "You think this is funny?" she asked.

  "No, Darlin'" he replied softly. "Cute, not funny."

  His humor stopped as soon as he felt her soft, warm hands surrounding his dick, moving and sliding softly beneath his hands just as he had taught her how to touch him. He couldn't help his cock's involuntary jerk when he showed her how to grip him at the base before moving her hand up his length to rub the muscle just beneath the head. A large drop of pre-cum made its appearance and he sucked in an audible breath as he both felt and watched Caitlin catch it with her thumb and gently rub it into his helmet.

  "That means you like it, right?" she whispered looking up into his eyes. He nodded wordlessly, lost in her beauty, her obvious delight in making him feel good. Jake's hands reached for her face as his mouth moved on hers softly but her innocent fondling soon caused his kiss to deepen as his hips began to slowly but firmly begin to piston his hard flesh into her soft hand.

  "Condom, Babe," Jake growled against her mouth, his body now impatient to join with hers. Caitlin began feeling around the disheveled bed covers trying to find the rolled latex that she had unconsciously dropped. Finally locating it stuck to the outside of her thigh, Caitlin smiled up at him, her cheeks a rosier hue than before. "Guess I must have dropped it," she admitted with a embarrassed little laugh as though hoping he'd see the humor with her.

  Smiling along with her, Jake again guided her hands as he showed her how to gently unroll it down his length. As soon as it was in place, Jake grabbed her thighs and pulled her down so she was lying on her back again, watching her eyes widening at his movement. His hands slid down her thighs, passed her knees and reached behind him to capture her ankles which he used to move her feet up onto his chest. As soon as they were in place, he did another long slow caress up her calves to stroke behind her knees as he gently pressed them open. He couldn't help the pulse within him as he watched her eyes slowly close when he dragged his cock through her now exposed slick folds and scrape the latex covered version of himself against her engorged clit.

  "Watch, Cait," Jake rumbled softly as he leaned back and began to ease himself into her, then tilted his chest forward which because of her feet being pressed fully on his chest, tipped her pussy upward. He glanced up and saw her neck arch forward as her eyes became glued to his cock, watching as he inched himself into her tight wetness. He looked down reveling in the sight of her pussy eagerly swallowing him as he begin to finger her now swollen clit in slow, delicious circles. In that position, he could see her, feel her and even smell her arousal. "Fuck, you're so…" he growled beginning to lose control, his hips and fingers beginning to move faster.

  Caitlin lifted her feet from his chest and hooked her heels high around Jake's back to give herself more leverage as her hips thrust up to meet his. "Oh, God, don't stop." she moaned as she felt her insides begin to glisten and melt at the hard smack of their bodies meeting. Jake dropped his chest to hers and was overcome by the heat he could feel through the latex, wetness he could sense as his hips pumped in and out of her hot, sweet hole, and smell as her cream collected at the base of his hardness. He couldn't help his own grunts as he took her savagely, driving into her. He could feel her pussy clutching, clenching in spasms right before he sensed his own climax as it slammed through him and he tucked his head into her neck with a deep groan.

  It seemed to take forever to come back to himself as he listened to Caitlin's heavy pants begin to slow. His moves were lethargic as he brushed her hair from her face and moved his lips up from her neck to her jaw line, moving up to her lips to capture them in a soft, but deep kiss.

  Jake's body again rose to the challenge even though he was simply remembering Caitlin's writhing from just a few minutes ago. He couldn't take her again knowing that she had to be at the first convenience store in just a couple of hours. But, damn, he wanted her again. Her sweetness and light was going to be his undoing. He frowned, though, remembering the palatable hurt on her face when they had to talk about his past. No one should have to have anything he'd done before blow back on them, especially not her. But it had. And he could tell that she had down-played what had gone on at Buxby's as much as he had soft-pedaled his treatment of women before her.

  *.*.*.*.*

  "So the Suds 'n' Duds I thought was a find. Your thoughts?" Dale and Jake were doing their usual weekly meeting of reviewing the profit and loss sheets of their six business holdings, looking at new businesses and catching up on anything that they felt the other needed to be aware of that had occurred over the previous few days.

  "Seriously?" Jake replied shooting a glance towards his partner. "Read the financials, must've been eight times, and still didn't understand them. They've got five sites, with three practically on State's campus, and they're still not showing a profit? Something isn't right."

  "Agreed. but what if we discovered the 'not right' part? Should I sic Rich on 'em?" Dale asked knowing their PI would pull all there was to know about the Miroslav family's investment in the sale of the chain of launder mats. "Some serious cake to be made if everything comes out clean. No pun intended."

  Jake grinned and nodded. "Can see the
potential, but don't want the headache if there's other shady shit involved." He put down the profit and loss statements for the Suds 'n' Duds and saw the next piece of paper was Fiona's final paycheck. He caught Dale's eyes after reviewing the amount listed. "Don't agree with the figures, Dale," he rumbled firmly.

  "I did the numbers and this shows the amount she's due for her time," Dale shrugged looking at his own copy that was stamped 'not a check' in bold letters. "Heard about the fracas at Enrique's but don't think that we can dock her for being a bitch to the boss's new squeeze."

  Jake just looked at Dale, his face frozen though understanding that Dale didn't have a clue on how hurtful Fiona had been at the restaurant or how terrible she had treated Caitlin at Buxby's. But, whether Dale understood or not, Jake was not going to pay Fiona for her bitch-like behavior. "Why aren't we deducting for the cost of the mirror she shattered in the dancer's dressing room?"

  It was a valid question and Dale's eyebrows hit his hairline as he considered it. Why, indeed? Maybe because Dale always thought Jake had a soft spot when it came to Fiona. In the times that Dale or others had complained about her, Jake seemed to offer a different view, a softer observation that kept her employed at the club. Had that changed or had Jake just been playing Devil's Advocate in the early years in order to assure that they had valid reasons for letting her go?

  "We have the receipt for the replacement?" Jake continued when Dale didn't respond.

  "Uh, yeah," Dale was shuffling papers to find the invoice for the repair of the circular reflective glass that had been smashed to tiny pieces of mosaic when Fiona had thrown her hairbrush, blow-dryer and make-up case after being told she was being let go. "Seven hundred bucks since the lights around it were shorted, too."

  "Deduct it, yeah?" Jake ordered as he firmly marked 'void' across the original check. "But cut the check before you leave."

  "Will do, buddy. But, gotta say," Dale swallowed as he knew from past experience that talking to Jake about his personal life could be, well, challenging. "This new girl, what's her name?" He shuffled papers going to Rich's receipt for the needed-now investigative report. "Caitlin? What's this about?"

  "Let's leave Caitlin to me, yeah? Go ahead and mark the investigation and the work done on an '87 Riviera at Skeet's to my account."

  While it was true that Jake and Dale were close, almost closer than brothers, as Jake had protected Dale from Dale's overbearing father and Dale was one of the nets that caught Jake when his family fell apart, they still kept to their own lives. And had made a point of staying out of each other's love lives especially since they seemed to have such different choices in women.

  Dale's taste ran to the ones that fashioned themselves after the European models in magazines--those that had the money to affect the style. Usually those funds came from an ultra-successful Daddy that had spent copious amounts of time and money on to mold his little Daphne, Charlene or Theona into the woman that would marry well and see him riddled with half a dozen grandchildren that was on the family doorstep every Sunday and most major holidays.

  Dale, having been the result of a mismatch of two such people, wasn't adverse to enjoying said delights of Daphne, Charlene or Theona, but was sure as shit never going to park his ass on someone else's door step with a shit-load of kids that he was convinced would make his life a living hell.

  Jake, on the other hand, was the definition of 'player', at least up until three years ago. He was so much of a player that Dale was convinced that if you did a Wikipedia search of the word that Jake's image would be front and center on the web page. Jake was the guy all of them had aspired to be in high school and college and the kind of man they all tended to avoid being seen with in public as they got older. Word got around and the word about Jake, or his friends (which included cohorts and drinking buddies) was that they were all only after one thing and while pleasure was found by both parties it never seemed to result in a second date. Nope, the reaction from the gals-about-town was that time spent with Jake was time spent regretted.

  Dale was never quite sure if it was because Jake was a dud in bed or that Jake didn't give a shit about them. When he thought about it, Dale suspected it was the latter. But something had changed about three years ago. Jake no longer seemed to be on the prowl. The women that Dale had seen him with had diminished until it appeared normal to see Jake by himself instead of draped over something that was wearing too much rouge or too little clothes. Dale, glancing down at his paperwork with a small grin, remembered the rest of the Oscar Wilde's quote, "A sure sign of desperation in a woman."

  Jake had become a loner, someone that was exactly where he said he was going to be, when he said he was going to be there. There were no sub-text in his actions or speech with regard to the fairer sex either in the club or when Dale had spent time with him outside of the their businesses. It was weird and Jake's involvement with this latest one, in light of the turnaround, was even weirder.

  "Ah, Jake? You are being careful, right? I mean, I saw her resume and can guess that this Caitlin doesn't have many assets, if she has any at all. Make sure that she's not just with you--"

  "For my money?" Jake interrupted. "That what you're gettin' at, Dale? You think she's only with me for my money?"

  "Just lookin' out for you, Man."

  Jake sighed.

  "Just leave Caitlin to me, yeah?"

  "Okay, noted," Dale said as he marked both invoices with the general ledger code that would bill Jake instead of one of the businesses and put those papers into the 'resolved' pile. " But, bud, this is really unusual…"

  "Want her, Dale," Jake stated firmly, his eyes on his best friend.

  "Somethin' special?" Dale questioned softly though his mind was racing. 'What the fuck does that mean?' he thought as Jake's words echoed in his head.

  Jake slowly nodded. "Very special, Dale."

  Dale held Jake's gaze as he sifted through the responses he could use and eliminating those that were guaranteed to piss Jake off.

  "Uhm, okay." Dale lowered his eyes knowing with the surety of their experiences together that Jake wasn't gonna offer up any details. "Should anything with the word 'Caitlin' in it then be billed to you going forward?" Dale was nothing if not savvy and quick on his feet. "Was that the one that Hank said you were draped all over at Enrique's?"

  "Yep."

  "Allrighty, then. Next subject…"

  *.*.*.*.*

  "Jake, you got Patel on line one, " the tinny voice announced.

  "Stanton," Jake said using the speakerphone button.

  "Jake? Take me off of speakerphone, okay?"

  Jake recognized the voice of Ram Patel, Grantham's Chief of Police, with his English expressions which many assumed was due to an British education. Those many, though, would be wrong. His mother was British and had married Ram's sub-Asian continent father when they met as guest lecturers at the State University. Ram was born and bred right there in the good old' US of A but you wouldn't know it to look at or to hear him.

  Jake snagged the receiver and heard Ram swearing softly, "Christ, I hate speakerphones!"

  "What's up? The militant moral majority of Grantham planning another protest against the sin of the club?"

  "Wish it was, Jake. Can't explain it over the phone but was wondering if you and Dale had a moment for me later today?"

  Jake flipped thru his Day-Timer, carefully marked with Caitlin's schedule as well as his own. "Nothing doing right now and have about an hour before the next crap hits. I'll call Dale now. Meet us at the Club?"

  "Be there in twenty," Ram said before disconnecting without a good bye.

  Jake was still mulling over the Suds'n'Duds financials when he heard a soft three-knock against his office door.

  "It's open," he rumbled as he rose to his feet across the acres of desk.

  "Yo, Jake," Ram said as he made his way across the office floor to grab Jake's outstretched hand. Standing over six feet, four inches and broad of shoulder, Ram was an impressive man. F
rom his glossy black hair to the tips of his glossy black boots, he was a force to deal with and not just because of his looks. "We got a situation."

  Jake caught Ram's brown eyes and then gestured to one of the chairs before lifting his chin to acknowledge what Ram had said.

  A very disheveled Dale entered the office just as Ram was settling into his chair. "Sorry I'm late. There had better be a good reason to drag me out of bed."

  Jake took in the wrinkled t-shirt and khakis as Dale slid himself into the only chair left open. He and Dale alternated the close of the club weekly and he could see that Dale was worse for wear this morning since they had met earlier and it was only 9.30am. 'Maybe an hour and a half of sleep, then,' he thought as his eyes hit Dale settling into the other chair positioned right next to Ram in front of the desk.

  "There've been three murders in the last three weeks," Ram announced without preamble as he began to shuffle the manila folders that he had brought with him. "All three were girls that have or were working at the club."