A/N –Post The Bones That Foam. This just wouldn't leave me alone....

Disclaimer – Not mine, just playing.

Enjoy


"Would you mind being a hamster?"

"Sorry, what?"

Booth pulled himself upright on her sofa. Exhausted from a day spent chasing perps through the streets of DC all he really wanted was to go home and crash out, but she'd offered to cook, and if this was the closest he'd get to an apology, well he was damned if he'd let her off lightly. Three courses later he was ready to burst, silently admitting that yes, his eyes were bigger than his stomach. He wasn't going anywhere for a while.

"I have been developing the skills I observed during our last case. And I would be appreciative if you would allow me to practice on you."

"Guinea pig, Bones." Booth grinned. "And sure. You can practice on me all you like."

Brennan smiled broadly. "Thank you. I'll be back momentarily." Abandoning the dishes, she headed into her bedroom, and Booth heard the sound of the door closing behind her.

Booth took a swig of his beer and sat back on the sofa. This was going to be painful. Bones was indescribably bad at reading people, but if it made her feel better to practice then he would allow her that at least. After all, better him than some grieving family. He closed his eyes and listened to her shuffling about in the bedroom. The door opened and he smelt her familiar perfume overwhelm his senses as she approached.

The music that was playing on the stereo changed track and seemed to subtly increase in volume. "Hey Bones," he asked. "Do we need the stereo so loud? You don't think it might be a little distracting?"

"Distracting?" she asked in confusion.

Booth opened his eyes to see her stood before him dressed like never before.

"Is my costume appropriate?" The first thoughts that sprang to mind were 'What costume?'. The lingerie was so revealing she might as well come out naked. Her makeup was heavy and glittery, with her hair fluffed up seductively. But she looked hot. Incredibly hot!

"Bones, what?" He frowned at his predicament. "You want to give me a lap dance?"

Her brow furrowed at his uncertainty. "What did you think I meant?"

"Not this. That's for sure," he added, waving his hand in her direction.

"Are you saying that you don't want me to help me? Should I find someone else to practice on?"

"No, no," he objected. "I'm fine with this." Not strictly true but he wasn't letting anybody else see her this way.

"I want to know how much my abilities are worth."

"Well that's your first mistake right there," Booth observed. "Talking shop ruins the effect. I mean, sure, it's necessary if you're getting paid, but otherwise...."

She leaned in, the spill of her breasts hovering little more than an inch from his face.

"What was I saying?" he asked, his mind now empty of everything but the milky flesh that tormented his moral judgement. Did she know what she was doing? Of course she did. Bones knew that the purpose of a lap dance was to instigate arousal. Did she realize it was totally inappropriate? No, of course not.

Her hips were now shimmying alongside his face and he swallowed audibly. How far exactly had she planned to take this? His now solid cock twitched with anticipation as the smooth curve of her ass moved into his immediate line of sight. If he wanted to, he could simply lean forward and his lips would be on her most intimate....

"Is it working?"

She turned and straddled his hips slowly. Booth frowned and shook his head, not understanding her question.

"So I need to be more stimulating. Okay..." She ran her hands over her firm slender body as she writhed slowly to the beat of the music.

Booth's breathing hitched. She'd wanted to know if he was turned on and his incapacity to answer her was because he was. But she wouldn't get that. Because she couldn't read his body language. Her thigh brushed against his erection and it pulsed at the contact. Could she read that?

Temperance smiled and licked her lips, grinding her hips against his. Booth smirked back. Oh yeah, she read that body language just fine. She placed her hands on his shoulders to maintain the balance as she rubbed her heat into his lap, her breasts jiggling sensuously before him.

"And..." he murmured, relaxing into the experience. "If you were doing this professionally you wouldn't actually make physical contact with your client."

She frowned at his comment, and then quickly slipped off, and stood before him once again. "But I thought I was doing really well," she pouted.

Feeling the loss, Booth reached out for her to sit back on his lap. "You were. It's fine in this kind of situation. It's not as though I was going to pay you."

"You weren't?" Brennan was blatantly dismayed. "Was that not worth sixty dollars?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Bones, that was priceless."

"I can't have been that bad," she objected. "I was able to arouse you sexually"

Booth glanced down at his still prominent erection. "That's very true."

Brennan pursed her lips. "If you need to ejaculate to pacify your arousal I don't mind."

"Bones!"

"What would you actually do if you were in a lap dancing club?" she enquired. "Because while I was waiting outside for you, the other men that left appeared quite sated."

Booth frowned. "They probably went to the bathroom and jerked off."

"Oh, of course." She looked almost sympathetic. "If you wanted to do that you know the bathrooms right over there."

He looked at her incredulously. "I am not about to... in your... no way."

Brennan watched him for a moment, desperately trying to read his expression. "It seems a little unjust that I've caused your dilemma."

"S'okay, Bones. I'll just have to think about I dunno, clowns, nuns, you get the idea."

Her eyes sparkled at him. "Or I could..."

Booth jolted in surprise as she deftly unzipped his fly and slipped her hand inside, fisting his length firmly. He stared into her twinkling eyes as she stroked his cock up and down. He tipped his head back at the unbelievable sensation of her willingly touching him this way. "Fuck, Bones!" he growled as her fingers traced the head of him, lubricating her movements with his own fluid. "I'm gonna come!"

"That's the idea, Booth. Let go."

"Ohhh, holy fuck," he panted, gripping her sofa with frustration.

"Booth!"

His eyes rolled back and everything went black. She was the first thing he saw when he reopened them. Except... she was dressed in jeans and sweatshirt, like before.

"Booth! You fell asleep. Is my company so un-stimulating?"

"Quite the opposite," he answered, swallowing nervously with a feeble smile. 'Crap', he thought, remembering vividly back to the pony play dreams that had been incessant at the time. The wet sticky sensation now inside his boxers was going to make it awkward to walk out without arousing her suspicion. Cause it wasn't as though any other part of her would be aroused by him. Her whole approach to sex was so clinical.

"Are you ready to help me practice my interrogation skills now?"

"Umm, actually Bones. I'm gonna go. Early start and all that."

"Booth? But I haven't tried anything out yet!"

"Trust me, Bones. You've done enough for today." He jumped up and hobbled towards the door.

She cocked her head, observing his stance. "Are you alright? You're walking with a strange gait."

"Cramp," he offered as he went. "I just need to walk it off. See ya." With an awkward wave he closed the door firmly behind him, leaving Brennan stood in the centre of the room completely confused.

She jogged over to the door, calling loudly down the corridor. "Was it something I did?"