The Hook

Hook the leg around the pole.

I can’t believe I’m doing this.

Dip and pull against it. Look like you want to be desired, loved, caught.

Damn, that metal is cold and this outfit, err, rags isn’t helping.

Whirl around the pole, make love to the pole, flush as you catch his eyes staring at you whole, he wants to have you, to eat you whole.

I can’t believe he talked me into this. I’m not his stunt double or anything, why the hell am I here?

Grind against the pole as you shimmy back up. There’s those eyes again, he’s stepping onto the stage, approaching you, pressing against your backside as he moves with you, for you.

Shit, I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?

He pries your hands from the pole and pulls you against him, embraces you and urges you to keep dancing.

God, I love my job, Hikaru’s mind rejoices at the feeling of Izumi Kido pressing against and swaying with her, his lips against her neck in feathered kisses that sent tingles down her spine.

“Hikaru,” he whispered against her ear, causing her to freeze.

“You still suck at pole-dancing.” He spoke, his smile unseen but heard as he pressed a kiss to neck and let her go.

Hikaru Takabayashi fell to the floor in a heap.

That asshole.