That cop stomping throughout the club is not there to make a bust; he's a stripper. Jessy Ares jumps onstage in full uniform and spins around the pole, jacking his nightstick and peering out beneath his aviator sunglasses to make enormous eye contact with James Ryder. James is one step removed from punk, with skintight jeans and tats along his arms. But James needs encouragement. Jessy has a strategy: this chab peels off his shirt to expose his unshaved chest and upright, dime-sized teats, then this chab uses the shirt as a lasso to pull James onstage. Bewildered James is shackled to the dancers' pole. Jessy yanks the panties off him and commences a full-bore blow job, wrapping his lips and tongue around James's pole, then swallowing it. The act takes a quantum leap when Jessy pushes James to his knees and pile-drives his uncut shlong into James' throat. Soon James's face is slick with drool and pre-cum. Jessy's goal is James' aperture, so the cuffs come off. James goes down on his back, legs high, as Jessy massages his ass cheeks and flicks his tongue around James's taint during the time that fucking him with the nightstick. That anal prelude shifts gears, to a full-fledged fuck, the one and the other dudes sweating bullets. James drops his load on the floor and takes Jessy's load on his face hole.
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