Jodi

Jodi

Peter S. Baring

"We ain't really all that close..." Jodi let Dennis know when Maria left them alone for a minute. You know the way that everybody calls each other friends. Yeah, if she'd been around much downstairs he would have known it. Unlike Maria, who's Mexican, Jodi was home-grown Cupertino, just out of high school, and I mean O-U-T. Dennis liked how blond she was, shagged hair that brushed suntanned shoulders, a ragged pair of blue jean cutoffs, cut off kinda short. A fat black pager was clipped to her waist, ready to vibrate. "I ain't wearing no panties, you know," she told Dennis, sprawling back on Maria's couch in the afternoon sun with her knees spread wide apart. Dennis couldn't help noticing the smooth shape of her long thighs where they disappeared into the skimpy garment. He liked it when Maria's friends from her job dropped by.

He and Maria had gotten it on four or five times before he'd ever found out where she worked. "Seriously?" he'd asked. Maria blushed. "I'm just a bartender," she said, crossing her arms over her small brown nubs. All the same, Dennis was impressed. It was Sunnyvale's infamous topless bar, the Brass Rail, out on Persian Drive, Dennis had been there a couple times. This was in the days before Maria got made management.

"We're just friends," he told Jodi, smiling. "Can I see some proof of that?" one of them said. Simpering, Jodi popped the metal button at her waist and let the zipper run down. She had a perfect little muffin, moist and hairy, and just since she was asking Dennis curled his fingers upward in a touching manner while sliding a little closer to her on the couch.

"Just no kissing, okay?" Jodi turned her pretty face and exposed a purple coldsore at the corner of her mouth. "They ain't letting me work until I get rid of this thing." Well, at this point Dennis had already had a wakeup fuck and an afternoon jackalope. Maria's strong brown hands had pretty much wrung the juice out of him. All the same, he felt the stir again as Jodi's soft puss budged gently to his touch. Just between friends, a little bit like him and Maria, neighbors with benefits. Dennis lived right upstairs.

"I'd love to see you perform sometime," Dennis offered sincerely as he spread his hand. "Oh, I just bet you would," the poledancer replied with a smirk. "What else you got? Maria says you're really hung."

I don't know what it was. In those days the Silicon Valley simply seethed with repressed sexuality, from open-air hottubs with ulterior motives, to cocaine, to engineers in a berserk search for irrational carnal solutions. "Just don't let her go anywhere," Maria said, "I'll be back in an hour." There was still twenty minutes on the clock. He couldn't stop looking at Jodi's dirty mouth.

"Oh, I just bet you would," he mimicked. Gosh darn her. "No kissing, though, okay?"

Jodi frowned sadly, shaking her shaggy streaked blonde perm. "I got a rubber." She glanced downward at him. Dennis realized it had happened anyway. His khaki cargo shorts bulged with instinctive lust. "I got another idea," Jodi said, bewitching him with the back of her hand.

"Up in Seattle I used to give a lap dance all the time," Jodi said. "Down here they don't let you. It's illegal," she promised, now poking his thick shaft with a firm forefinger. She rose and came at Dennis backass, trapping his knees and setting right down on the zippered ridge of his shorts. "Oof!"

Have you ever had it done? She's so close and warm and delicious you could wrap your arms right around her, but she brushes your grasp away, putting her weight on her hands and gliding her wampus seductively across your captive hard-on. For a twenty dollar tip she'll finish the job. It's not that Jodi isn't into money, but she's strict about the rules. "Lemme doit! Touching ain't allowed."

There was a harsh buzzing noise that meant a page had come in to the little black thing that Jodi wore clipped to the waist of her cutoff jeans. Dennis felt her stop, stiffen, lose track as she pressed the button to view the number. "Uh-oh," she said. "Hey, listen. It's Nolan. I gotta go."

Oh no. Maria was going to kill him. Jodi shrieked as he got his arm around her and pulled her down onto the couch. It was a good thing he had gravity on his side. "We'll just bust a quick one, then," he agreed. He pointed to the phone in the kitchen nook. "You can call him right back."

"Can I ask you a favor?" It had seemed like a weird one, Maria calling him Wednesday night and saying that she had this friend from work named Jodi she'd wanted to introduce him to. "Uh-oh," Dennis had said. "No, no, it's okay. Hey, would you like to come down for dinner tonight, just the two of us?" She had got rid of the kids, they were with the dad.

"Smooching and some quality TV?" Dennis had quipped. "I'm not beyond bribery." It had sounded great at the time.

"Clay said to keep an eye on her for a few days," Maria explained bleakly, later, showing Dennis the color poster. "He thinks she's dealing. Pretty, isn't she? She's one of our dancers."

"Wanna bump?" Jodi pulled her face away, a sly expression in her eyes. "Nolan won't know." For a second before he remembered Dennis was confused. "Sure," he said, not quite letting hold of her. "A bump, sure."

There was something unobtainably sexy about her eagerness. Dennis admired the quick precision with which she removed the items from her handbag: a small mirror, a flat razor blade, a tightly curled hundred-dollar bill. "Okay, I get it now," he said. Jodi crinkled her nose wryly and rubbed it with the back of her hand.

He didn't think he'd ever seen more than a gram before. The double sealed plastic package that Jodi pulled from her purse had to be at least half an ounce. "Nolan does like his 'caine," she said proudly, hefting it. Poking with a small spoon she extracted the glistening white powder.

She offered Dennis the first blow, but when he hesitated she leaned quickly forward, inhaling half a line in one quick sweep. "Whew!" she said, holding onto Dennis' arm for support. She tipped her head back and shook her pretty hair, her blue eyes fluttering, a smile of satisfaction. What Dennis couldn't keep his eyes off now were her big tits, three-dimensional in a stretchy, low-cut lavender top. "Your turn," she giggled. "Where's Jodi?"

Dennis pressed the end of the rolled hundred to his nose, registering the faint dampness, and tried to inhale. "Put your finger on the other side," Jodi instructed, regaining herself, all business again.

Chicks'll tell you it goes straight to their pussy. All Dennis knew was when he woke up he had one hell of a hard-on, so maybe they're right. He became aware of Jodi's fingers working the buttons of his shorts, finally his monster leaped free. "Did you say 'Whew'?" he gasped, sprawling back into the cushions. "That's, that's...wow."

"It gets me so fucking hot," Jodi agreed impatiently. "Wanna screw?" Fortunately he found himself to be in the mood.
I'm just kidding, she was so fucking beautiful, a sweet face, really, even with that thing on it, anyway, tits like a queen. He smiled as she turned her torso modestly away, shucking her shorts and exposing her blue-black tramp-stamp, a cute goth bat-wing motif that crowned her muscular buns. Dennis couldn't help it, he just had to have her.

Jodi had a punky little mouthful of blonde bush at the top of her long, strong legs. Signing in, Dennis let his head go underneath, nestle into her cunny, establish direction, and break through to juice. "Ooh! Oh yeah, oh yeah," the dancer gasped as she took in the dong. Lemme see those knockers, he said, clashing her soft cymbals in raw rhythmic lust as he ground her hips towards climax.

Dennis didn't want to sound smug, but he was pretty good at straight fucking, having had a lot of practice up to now. He scrunched forward, implicating her clitoris and making her moan as he drove his fat member into her again and again, trying to count to ten thousand, losing track. He saw Jodi had opened her pretty eyes again and gave her a dominant sneer. You can't make them but you can try to break them. "Okey-dokey?" he whispered as they rocked and rolled. "Oh, Man," Jodi said. "I can do this all night," he bragged. When it finally happened he was proud of the way she bit her sore lip and swung her head from side to side, crying. "I love you, you know," he said.

There were still ten minutes left. Plus, that was if Maria wasn't late. Dennis uncunted and tried to make conversation. "Who's Nolan?" he asked. It was the wrong question. Jodi fought her way out from beneath him, her hair moist and messed up, looking around everywhere for her stuff. "Wait, what." Dennis said. Jodi looked at him incredulously, like don't you know? "The Owner," she said.

The pager buzzed again and Jodi jumped to her feet, freezing in naked dismay as she saw the pile of white that had spilled out on the coffee table. "Fuck. See what you did! Fuck!" She found a magazine card and began scraping the powder together across the burl surface. "I'm sorry. Be careful. Let me help," Dennis said.

It's like wintergreen or something, though that's sometimes the cut. Dennis sniffed again hard as a trickle of dissolving alkaloid found its way down the back of his throat. Whatever it was, you had a feeling you'd like a little more. Good for Nolan. He held open the baggie while Jodi shoveled it back in.

“Guess what I got us,” Maria said as she came through the door, turning the double locks behind her.