Jessy Ares and James Ryder

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That cop trampling through the club is not there to make a bust; he's a stripper. Jessy Ares hops onstage in total uniform and rolls around the pole, tugging his nightstick and peering out under his aviator sunglasses to make intense eye contact with James Ryder. James is one step eliminated from punk, with skintight denim and tattoos along his arms. But James needs encouragement. Jessy has a strategy: he undresses his tee-shirt to unsheathe his fur covered torso and erect, dime-sized nipples, then he uses the tee-shirt as a lasso to pull James onstage. Confused James is cuffed to the dancers' pole. Jessy twitches the trousers off him and commences a full-bore gargle job, wrapping his lips and tongue around James's pole, then gulping it. The activity takes a quantum hop when Jessy shoves James to his knees and pile-drives his uncircumcised wood into James' mouth. Briefly James's face is smooth with slobber and pre-cum. Jessy's aim is James' hole, so the handcuffs come off. James heads down on his back, gams high, as Jessy touches his buns and videos his tongue around James's taint while drilling him with the nightstick. That ass fucking prelude rolls gears, to a full-fledged fuck, both folks sweating bullets. James drops his stream on the floor and takes Jessy's stream on his mouth.