A Little Dirty, A Little Bit Salty

"You're going the wrong way," Ivy said and pulled her phone from her back pocket. She turned to watch behind them and started shooting video.

"Mrs. Cleveland wouldn't be happy if I showed those guys the way to her place." He was catching up to a tanker truck and glanced left. "I'm going to rub them off. "

Sam jammed the gas peddle, and the acceleration pressed them into their seats. The transmission down-shifted and the engine crackled. He swerved left on the tail of a passing car, and he pulled up beside the semi. Sam glanced at Ivy and then at his rearview mirror. The bikers swerved to stay with him, and Ivy clicked a photo.

He gained on the tanker until the back of the pickup cleared it, and he cut right, across the front of the semi. The trucker blasted his horn behind them, so close it shook their seats.

Ivy yelled, "Shit Sam!" He glanced at traffic to his right and gritted his teeth until a car cleared the lane. Ivy gasped and clutched the arm rest. Sam gunned the engine and squeezed around the semi, and the driver in the car coming up behind them stood on his brakes.

The bikers followed around the semi, but they could only look back when Sam took his foot of the gas and fell back. Ivy's camera clicked before the bikers pulled away, and Sam jammed the gas.

He clenched his teeth and his knuckles went white on the steering wheel. Sam cut in front of the tanker again to pull up behind the bikers. The truck driver blasted his horn, and Ivy's camera clicked.

Sam waved to the truck driver in his rearview mirror and pulled right down an off-ramp. "That's a really pissed-off trucker." He broke hard to stop at a light, laid his head back on the headrest and laughed. "Oh God! My heart is pounding. Are you OK?"

"All good. I have their faces and their license plates." Ivy checked her jeans. "And I didn't even pee on myself."

The light changed, a horn sounded behind them, and Sam turned to get out of the way. "Where are we, anyway? I need to turn around."

Sam got back on the freeway heading home, and Ivy turned on the news as soon as she got into the cottage. They stood side-by-side and watched Ivy's interview, with her name at the bottom of the screen below her animated expressions and gestures.

Ivy didn't wait for the interview to end before she nudged Sam. "Where's Sneezy? I need to get some work done." She settled at the table with her phone and Sam's laptop in front of her while he got into the shower.

Sam was clean and shirtless in bluejeans when he sat down beside Ivy, and she turned in her seat. "I fixed my notes. I called channel 10 and gave them more copy for tonight. I called the police and told them I had photos."

"You've been busy," Sam said. "Dinner's at seven." He opened the top button of Ivy's shirt, and then the next. "How long will it take you to get ready?"

Sam reached into Ivy's shirt, and she closed her hand over his. "It'll take longer if you undress me."

He watched Ivy's butt sway as she walked to the shower then picked up her phone. He found her photos and started taking notes in his meticulous engineer's way. The shower ran while he used the license numbers to hunt down their registrations. Sam had names by the time the shower stopped, and he had faces attached to the names when Ivy stood beside him in her little interview dress.

Ivy set a clutch purse on Sneezy, and Sam pushed his notes toward her. "The bikes belong to Michael Mullen and Luke Aragon." His eyes traveled from Ivy's lips and her business-like neckline to her short skirt, thigh-high nylons, and stiletto-heeled pumps. "From the waist up you look country-club conservative."

"Waist-up is what people will see when I'm sitting at the table. The rest is for you." She caught Sam's hand and tugged. "Didn't you say you'd wear a dark suit--no tie?"

Ivy took Sam's seat as soon as he got up, and she read his notes with her phone in hand. Sam didn't take long to get dressed, and she was still distracted by her phone when he got back.

"Look!" Ivy turned her phone for Sam to see. "Mullen is a licensed PI, and Aragon is registered as a bounty hunter."

Ivy dropped her phone into her clutch purse, and Sam thought about it while he locked the cottage door behind them. He opened the truck's passenger door but turned Ivy around before she climbed in. "They were hired to stop you."

"And I can guess where the money comes from." Ivy flattened her hands on Sam's chest. "I can't prove anything yet, so I want to think about something else. Food and sex would be good."

Sam laughed while Ivy dropped into the seat. He slid his hand up into the warmth between her thighs and asked, "Do they have to be in that order?"

Ivy gave Sam's hand a little more room, but then pushed him back. "Get in, Sam, or I'm going to give Mrs. Cleveland a show she probably doesn't want."

Sam climbed behind the wheel. He started the engine, turned the music off, and watched Ivy peel her underwear down her thighs.

"Now I'm really naked down there, the way I wanted to be the other night." Ivy turned in her seat to face Sam with her panties wrapped around one ankle. She lifted her legs apart to let Sam watch, and she touched her shaved pussy.

Sam had to tear his eyes away. "Does that feel good?" He untangled the scrap of fabric from her pump, inhaled Ivy's scent from the gusset, and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.

He stopped at the street and Ivy straightened herself in her seat. She reached over the center console, and stroked her fingers up Sam's thigh. "It tingles a little, and it makes me think of you."

Sam pulled onto the street and glanced in his rearview mirror. "It makes me think about holding you down, and making you scream my name."

Ivy pulled her hand back and laughed. "Can we do that at the Country Club? That might be fun." She caught Sam with his eyes on the street behind them. "My tail isn't the only tail on your mind."

"Those guys could get the truck's registration as easily as we got theirs." Sam turned down a tree-lined boulevard and glanced back again. "It's a company truck, so they'd have to put two and two together to get back to me, but that's what PI's do, right?"

The late afternoon's golden sunlight fell through the trees, and they drove down the boulevard from shadows to light. "You drive. I'll watch back," Ivy turned in her seat to watch the cars behind them, and she talked to the back window. "I've never been to the Country Club."

Sam turned onto a busy street and pulled the visor down to shield his eyes from the sun. "It's old, with lots of old people, and lots of hidden little spaces where maybe no-one would notice us--or maybe they would."

"That tickles my imagination a little," Ivy bit her lip. "Maybe a lot. Being naughty and all."

It tickled Sam's imagination too. He turned off the street and stopped at a gate where the guard squinted at Sam's card then waved him through.

He followed the circle drive in front of the clubhouse's colonnaded entrance, and Ivy got her first look at the place. "This is a little intimidating," she said.

Sam pulled into a parking lot beside the entrance drive. "It's not all it looks like. The club doesn't have the influence it had when the building was built a hundred years ago." He closed the driver's door behind him, opened the passenger door, and kept Ivy from climbing out.

Ivy stopped with her hand on Sam's shoulder. She leaned close by his ear and inhaled. "Have I told you how much I like your cologne?"

Sam pulled back just enough to focus on Ivy's smile. "I'm not wearing cologne." She parted her lips, and Sam cupped his hand behind her head to pull her mouth to his. He found her soft and eager, and he reached up her little dress.

Ivy broke their kiss when he tickled her pussy, and she laughed in his ear. "Do you have something naughty in mind?"

"I do." Sam looked past Ivy toward the clubhouse and then at the other cars. He caught her hand and held it against the front of his dress pants. "I want the high-profile news reporter to suck me off."

"Give me a break on the high-profile thing, will you?" It was Ivy's turn to look around, but then she grasped Sam's belt with one hand and dragged his zipper down with the other. She reached into his pants then into his boxers and wrapped his cock in her hand.

Sam flinched, and Ivy slipped off the seat to where Sam, the truck, and the door hid her from plain view. She worked his hard-on out and wrapped it in her hand, and she slipped her fingers between his legs to cradle his balls.

Ivy looked up at Sam to make sure he watched, opened her mouth wide, and closed her lips around him. Sam's cock throbbed in her mouth and his breath came short and shallow. He leaned with his elbows on the door and on the top of the truck, and the warm, wet sensations from Ivy's lips and her tongue engulfed the length his cock. Her breath was hot and moist on his shaft. Her hair fell soft around him, and her fingers danced under his balls.

Shadows stretched across the parking lot while Ivy sucked Sam. His mom and dad's friends, the rich, and the influential came and went from their cars and from the clubhouse. "You're a dirty girl," was all Sam got out before he slammed his eyes shut. The groan that escaped his clenched teeth was Ivy's warning.

Sam's knees almost buckled under him. Ivy closed her lips around the hilt of his shaft, and Sam tossed his head back. The world went dark but for the lights behind Sam's eyes, and Ivy grunted through her nose as he pumped his hot load into her mouth.

Ivy stood up close against Sam when he was empty. He rested his hands on her hips and inhaled the scent from her throat while she swallowed.

She plucked her underwear from Sam's jacket pocket and held it up for him to see, "I need this, or I'll probably stain the dress when I sit down." She leaned back against the truck while Sam put his softening cock away. He shielded her from view, and she stepped into the panties and worked them up her thighs.

Ivy smoothed her little dress down again and nudged Sam, "Are we going to be late for dinner?"

"Not by much, but that won't stop Ella from giving me a hard time."

Ivy picked up her clutch purse and stepped away from the truck, and Sam closed the door behind her. She tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and pulled herself close while they walked. "Who's Ella?"

"The hostess. She's worked here since I was a kid. She lied to get me out of teenage troubles, and she doesn't let me forget." He tried to look down Ivy's conservative neckline. "The only problem with this dress is that I can't see your tits."

"Later," Ivy said. "Then you can see all you want." She used her hand to shade her eyes from the sun and watched people coming and going from the clubhouse. "Yesterday I imagined feeding you with my tits, and it made my nipples hard."

"You think about that?" Sam stopped for a second to talk to a couple who were leaving, so Ivy didn't answer until they were out of earshot.

"That and other things. What's on your mind when you think about me?"

"Do you need me? Are you safe?" Sam shrugged. "How are you going to taste and smell when I see you again?" He stopped Ivy by one of the tall columns at the front of the clubhouse and bent to her ear. "When I'm turned on, I like you a little salty--a little dirty."

Ivy looked distracted when Sam led her through the lobby past the bar and the pro shop. She clung to his arm, and her high-heeled pumps clicked on the floor as they walked. The light in the restaurant was unfashionably dim, and the background music was low. The sounds of cutlery and glassware mixed with a murmur of conversation.

Ella looked up from her hostess' station, peered over her reading glasses, and dissected Ivy with her eyes before she told Sam, "They're getting your table ready. It'll be a few minutes."

Sam let his hand slip from Ivy's hip and talked with Ella so Ivy couldn't hear. "Her name's Ivy. She's a reporter. Can she have a glass of water while we wait?"

"You're not getting your date drunk this time?" Ella didn't stay for Sam's answer. She sent a busboy with a glass of water, and she stopped by a table to talk.

Ivy smiled her thanks to the busboy and faced Sam. "Now maybe I know how the frog feels in a biology class." She poked at the thin slice of lime floating over the ice, sipped the water, and smiled. "This has just the right piquance to compliment the appetizer you gave me."

Ella tucked two menus under her arm and touched Ivy's elbow. "Someone just asked me, dear, so I'll ask you. Was that you on the 10 News today?"

"And tonight, I hope, and in the paper on Sunday. I'm trying to get myself out there."

"You have this crowd's attention," Ella said. She took Ivy's glass, left it at her station, and told Sam, "Your table's ready."

A few heads turned as Sam guided Ivy through the dining room. Ella left them at the table, and Ivy waited for Sam to seat her. She tucked her dress under her legs as she sat, and a smile curled her lips when Sam whispered, "I might be getting high-profile tail after all."

Ivy left her purse beside her, and she leaned across the table. "Do you think my high profile tail will taste any different?"

Sam set his menu aside as if he had it memorized. "You're my dessert, so I'll find out."

Ivy shivered and rubbed her arms. "Talking dirty is kind of a thrill. Either that, or there's a draft in here."

"Could be some of both," Sam said.

He was about to do something about Ivy's chill when a woman stopped beside the table, gave them a professional smile, and introduced herself. "My name is Sheri. I'll be your server."

They ordered drinks then Sam got up from his seat and draped his jacket around Ivy's shoulders. "You're gallant," Ivy said. She drew it around herself and inhaled Sam's scent from the collar.

Sam sat down while a girl brought his soda. She set Ivy's red wine in front of her, and Sam waited until she was gone. "Gallant? I thought I was claiming you as mine."

Ivy coughed into her wine glass, but she didn't complain.

Sheri and Sheri's help came and went to bring bread, soups, and steaks while Sam and Ivy teased each other. The crowd in the restaurant had thinned before Sam watched Ivy over his espresso. She crossed her legs and tugged her short skirt down.

"I'm anticipating," Ivy said and put on a little show with her tongue and a spoonful of chocolate mousse. "And your place is so far away."

Sam put his espresso down. He pocketed a butter knife that had been left behind and leaned forward with his elbows on the table. "We're not waiting 'til we get there." He was anticipating, too. His cock was firm, and its hot length rested against his leg.

Ivy tightened her thighs and squirmed, and Sam picked up the tab that Sheri left beside him. He filled in the tip and signed it with her pen, and he stood to wait by Ivy's chair. She gathered her purse, and she adjusted Sam's jacket around her shoulders.

Sam whispered in Ivy's ear when she stood close against his chest. "I can get you off as fast as you got me off in the parking lot."

"We should all have goals," Ivy said. "Where are we going?"

Sam didn't answer. He rested a big hand on Ivy's hip and guided her past Ella at her station and into the lobby. The place was nearly empty. He nudged Ivy around a corner, past a banquet hall, and stopped her at a closed door before they reached the weight room.

"This was supposed to be for 'elite' members," Sam said, "but hardly anyone bought into it." He pulled the butter knife out of his pocket and turned the lever handle while he slipped the knife between the door and the frame. "It's used for massage now, but only during the day. The latch was never very good."

The door latch clicked and Sam leaned in to look around the darkened room before he pushed Ivy ahead of him. He let the door shut behind them, and Ivy watched through the big window that opened onto the weight room. "Can they see us?"

"One-way glass," Sam said and nudged Ivy back against a massage table. "With the light off in here, someone on that side would have to walk right up to the window to see in."

Sam cupped one hand behind Ivy's head, and she gave him her mouth while he explored under her little dress. Her breath was scented with chocolate, and the gusset between her legs was damp. Ivy broke their kiss and gasped against Sam's neck when he closed his hand around her soft mound.

"Up," he said and boosted her onto the massage table. He took her purse and set it aside. "Stay quiet, so people don't get curious."

Sam laid Ivy on her back, and she turned her head to watch the weightlifters' muscles flex and bulge while he pushed her skirt up around her waist. He jerked her panties under her butt, pulled them over her pumps, and stuffed them in his pocket.

Ivy watched glistening skin stretch over taught muscles, and she caught her breath when Sam's lips led him deep into the folds and creases between her legs. He breathed Ivy's excited scent and tasted her nectar, and she knotted her fingers in his hair.

Sam kept Ivy under his tongue, and her gasps and moans grew louder and more ragged. Her body tensed in his arms, and her heels pounded his back. He held her thighs against his shoulders so she wouldn't slip away, and she twisted in his grip.

Ivy was going to come. He could feel it in her body and hear it in the garbled noises she made. Ivy arched her back and groaned through clenched teeth as she came, and she wailed at the ceiling when her climax released her.

Sam looked up from between Ivy's thighs in time to see a trainer leave the machine she was wiping down. She walked to the window, and Sam scooped Ivy off the massage table as the trainer cupped her hands around her face to see through the window.

He dropped to the floor behind the table with Ivy cradled in his arms. She caught her breath and ducked against his neck to stifle the sounds of her own breathing, and Sam listened for anyone coming.

A moment passed and no-one came, and Ivy snickered against Sam's neck. "God, I like being naughty." She tipped her mouth up and caught his skin between her teeth.

Sam flinched. He watched Ivy in the dim light. She kicked her nylon-sheathed legs apart when he stroked his hand up between her thighs, and he said, "Be naughty all you want. I like you this way."

Voices outside the door made Sam put his finger to his lips and shush whatever Ivy had to say. They passed, and Sam said, "We should put you together and go."

Ivy tugged her dress into place, smoothed her nylons up, and found her purse, and Sam left the butter knife on the table. He pulled his jacket on and listened at the door for a moment before they stepped out.

Ivy held herself close to Sam with her hand around his bicep. "You still have my undies."

"Right where I want them." Sam said. "Not in our way."

A woman's voice, large and loud, called Sam's name, and he groaned just enough for Ivy to hear. He put on a smile and said, "Mrs. Daley! I'm surprised you're here so late."

"Membership Committee," the woman said. She glanced at Ivy then back at Sam with an expectant expression.

"This is Ivy Reynolds. We just finished dinner." Sam turned to Ivy. "This is Ida Daley, one of my mom's best friends."

Ivy let go of Sam's arm to touch Ida's hand. "This is my first time here."

"I certainly hope it isn't your last," Ida said. "Can I borrow Sam for a minute? We need to talk."

Ivy motioned to the door that led out past the pro shop. "I'll explore a little and check my messages. I've been out of touch this whole time."

Sam found Ivy again at the edge of the clubhouse's big patio. She stood by a rail with her phone in hand and watched ducks land on a pond in the fading twilight.

"It's pretty here," she said, and motioned with her phone before she put it away. "What did Ida need?"