Pole Dance (17 page)

"You didn't get…ah, you didn't get…" Caitlin's face was a study, her eyes slipping to the passenger door, then over his right shoulder, looking around the car in measured moves. "You didn't…uhm…."

"I'm good." He didn't mean to sound as tense as his body felt.

"But, don't you need to…," she still couldn't meet his eyes.

"I'm fine," he assured her, trying unsuccessfully to make his voice much, much more confident than he felt.

"Show me what to do, baby," he heard her whisper, her beg, as her lips caught on his. Oh, fuck. His heart sped up to pulse in triple time. Was she asking…?

"Let me make you feel good, too." Her lips were at his neck and her fingers were at the buttons of his jeans. She popped the button fly slowly as her mouth kept moving, licking and stroking wetly against his neck.

Jake shifted to release the seat back until it was fully reclined. As he moved, Caitlin moved, too. She brought her legs back over the console and again straddled his lap, the steering wheel at her back.

"Tell me what to do," she whispered again, fervently as she planted both hands on his chest.

"Release me," Jake said, moving his hands to spread his unbuttoned jeans open. The air was cold on the glands of his exposed cock that was poking out of the top of his boxers. Her soft hands peeled the elastic down, uncovering him, encircling him. He placed his hands over hers.

The heat, oh god, the heat from just her hands.

"Need wetness, Cait," He moaned as he felt her first tentative stroke moving from the base up to the head.

He watched as Caitlin stilled. Had he asked too much?

Then his eyes followed her as she moved her hands to her own still opened jeans and slid one hand down into them. The thought, the sight of her touching herself had him sliding his hand, stroking his own hard, wanting flesh.

She captured her wetness, the wetness he had caused, and slid her now creamy hand up and down his iron like length.

"Better?"

"God, yes!" Jake hands covered hers as he thrust upwards, sliding the length himself into her hot, wet, slippery palms, the hands that were wrapped tightly on him, that were struggling to contain him. He didn't realize his hands had again slipped under her top and bra to push them up. That is, until his eyes watched what his hands had done. The sight of her pink tipped ivory flesh, so hotly exposed from the top of her breasts to her wide open jeans yet still underneath her open coat, the fuckin' coat
he
had bought her, sent a jolt from his eyes to his cock.

"Move my shirt up, Darlin'," He commanded on a strong voice when his hips were bucking upwards, sliding into her soft, tight, fuckin' hot, wet, hands. He felt her let go of the exquisite squeezing and the coldness hit his abs and chest as she slid his shirt up to his pecs before she reached to capture and continue her stroking.

He felt it surging through his cock, the come building from his backbone. He curled his hips forward, sinking into her firm strokes as he levered himself up onto his elbows.

Wanted to drive himself into her wet, sweet softness.

Needed her.

Jake kept his eyes open, trained on her face. She was watching his cock slip forcefully into her hands that were now slippery with his pre-cum, an look of awe captured in both her eyes and mouth.

She leaned forward and tipped her chin forward as her soft lips begin to use his moves on him. He felt her mouth licking, capturing, sucking, releasing as her hands stroked his hard shaft. He was thrusting, curling upwards.

"Tighter, Cait."

She squeezed her hands to grip him more tightly.

"Fuckin' hell," Jake growled, teeth clenched.

It hit.

Oh, dear sweet God. It hit.

"Caitlin!" he moaned releasing his elbows to drop his body and head back down to the seat rest.

Thumping.

Throbbing.

Christ!

He watched her face, his sweet girl. Totally caught up in the moment, she watched the limpid jets of his coming, tracking his ejectory in total awe. As the jets slowed down and ceased, Caitlin raised her eyes to his.

"Awesome," she whispered before diving against his mouth, her hands still holding his quivering cock.

Jake couldn't argue.

Chapter Eight

I was a bundle of nerves the next day. I had done my stuff at the mini-mart, performing the cleaning by rote since my head was so not in tune with her body's movements.

I'd plenty of time to think about last night as I walked to my first class of the day. But my thoughts were like a broken record.

Jake was an amazing man.

Who could do amazing things.

Who had taught me
a lot
of amazing things. Things that, as I remembered them, caused a pleasurable pulse to reverberate in all of my pink parts.

And memories. The memory of his hand down my panties, stroking, rolling, hotly caressing, urging me…urging me.

My memories of Jake's hands.

And, then, my hands on
him
.

The visuals, the mental pictures of Jake. His face as I had stroked him, the sight of his chest, his abs and parted jeans. His hips thrusting, driving himself into my hands.

Oh. My. God.

I felt light headed and crossed my legs for the seven hundred and twenty-third time since I'd sat down in class.

*.*.*.*.*

"Hey, pretty girl," I heard Jake's growl rumbled in my ear through my cell phone. "Thinkin' of pickin' up Greek tonight. Can be at your house by seven, seven thirty with food, yeah?

I was in between classes and slow to react because my mind was still on the memories of our session in the car. Was still reviewing my 'snapshots' of being with Jake in his car. Of Jake unclad in his car.

"Sure," I replied. "But, Jake?"

"Mmm-hmm?" I heard him say

"How'd you get my phone number?"

"Was on your resume," he said softly.

"You kept my resume?"

There was a short chuckle and then I heard him say, "Around seven, seven thirty, yeah?"

Okay, so I couldn't tell you about the start of our dining experience with the Greek food. My head was engaged in all things Jake. He sat on my two-seater sofa and I sat on the floor across from him after bringing plates, cutlery and sheets of paper towels to the antique white coffee table, found in dumpster diving session, that I had given a new lease on life by coating it in white paint and taking sand paper to it to give it 'an antiqued look'.

He was funny, so funny that I found my stomach muscles hurt. I can't remember a time where I laughed so hard my muscles protested. Especially while dining on food that I'd never had before.

After we were done eating, which included the honey drenched Baklava, I did a quick tidy in my postage sized kitchenette before making my way back to Jake, sitting next to him on the loveseat I called a sofa.

"No TV?"

"I'm not home much," I replied. I was working the corner of my couch. My heels were against the seat cushion and my arms were twined around my calves. "The cost of the unit and the cost of the cable to get any sort of 'unfuzzy' picture is kind of out of my budget right now. Plus, when I am home, I'm studying or doing laundry, etc., etc."

I raised my eyes to Jake's and got caught, like always, in the tractor-beam of their golden depths.

Jake scooted closer on the tiny sofa.

"Liked the food?"

His hand reached and snagged my neck.

"Yeah, never had it before but am dead impressed." I was watching him coming towards me, bit by careful bit before hitting my lips with his in a short, soft kiss. His hand ran upwards from my elbow to my shoulder before sliding across my back as he used pressure to bring me to him, chest to chest. His head tilted forward again and he pressed his forehead to mine.

"Liked coming in your hands last night, Darlin'," his lips never really, truly left mine but he began murmur against them as he spoke.

"'Scuse me?" I squeaked as his words caused a forest fire to ignite inside me.

"Want you, Caitlin. Want to be inside you. Can't think, Darlin', 'cept 'bout buryin' myself in your hot, wetness." Jake's forehead was plastered against mine, his voice unbelievably gruff. He pulled back a bit, which I think was done to gauge my reaction to his words.

"Me, too," I admitted on a breathy sigh, but still mesmerized by Jake's eyes. To tell the truth, our whole conversation was surreal. My mind couldn't make sense of it as my thoughts were on the 'Jake of Last Night', not the 'Jake of the here and now'. Not to mention that this man, this gorgeous hunk of male flesh, used his fingers to give me magic and had then allowed me, had taught me, how to make him feel the magic, too.

I reached my hand out to Jake and watched as he snagged my fingers.

I took the initiative and stood up, pulling on his hand as I maneuvered him towards my bedroom. Jake reached for and encircled my waist firmly as we stopped at the end of my bed.

"You sure, Darlin'?" he whispered leaning close to look into my shadowed eyes he bent in again for quick kiss.

"'Bout time, don't you think?" I teased him softly as I stared back up at his face reflected in the moonlight and the soft glow of the living room lamps as I used my hands on the buttons of his untucked, blue oxford shirt to open it up as eagerly as a long awaited Christmas present. I slid the crisp cotton off his shoulders and dared to drop little kisses on his collar bones and well-muscled chest as I tried to slip the shirt sleeves off his hands. After I had his hands free, which took me a couple of tries before I realized I had to stop and unbutton his cuffs, he began to move his hands to the hem of my soft Henley top. I was glad I'd chosen my favorite thrift store piece to wear tonight since I thought the color of the waffle knit really set off my eyes and skin. His hands came back to stroke me between my shoulder blades after he had untangled my chin from the neckline and my hair that had gotten caught on the few buttons. So undressing one another wasn't as smooth and as sexy as I had envisioned, but we were still getting results--as in, getting each other naked.

"Recognize the bra, babe," Jake said with a soft chuckle glancing down between us. Which he should since it was the one that I had worn for my unveiling in his office. His fingers stopped stroking my back and stopped at the clasp on my back. Within seconds I could feel the bands of the expensive silk loosen around me.

"Wow," I breathed at his expertise in unhooking it so fast.

"Wow," Jake echoed as he peeled the satin and lace from my chest and, again, viewed my unbound breasts. His hand reached up and traced the pearl of one dusky pink- tipped nipple as his other hand swept the silky fabric down and away.

"Was aching to touch you then, Darlin'," he admitted on a whisper and I knew he was talking about when I had done my strip tease in front of his desk. I felt his palms gently cup the fullness of my breasts before his fingers began squeezing and turning my nipples. Oh God, I hadn't just imagined it last night. There really was a direct link between all my pink parts. My head began to whirl, almost dizzy from his teasing touch. I had been feeling him too, exploring all the wonderful muscles of his back but, at his words, felt myself grabbing the waistband of his jeans to steady myself.