- And tell me, Castle, who's a better showgirl, huh?
She stood in front of him, swaying her hips seductively, free, liberated and wildly wildly wanting him. Her supple, perfectly shaped body was covered with a weightless, transparent tassel, with many colorful sequins, glowing inserts, ruffles and other tinsel fluttering with movement. Her nipples, barely covered by stars, stick out cheerfully; between her thighs there is a silvery openwork fabric triangle on invisible fastenings; a light ring, playing with facets in the light, is inserted into her navel. Her hair is loose and scattered over her shoulders, half her face covered by a black fabric mask with sparkles. Her lips were defiantly painted, her eyes were slit open, and her gaze was intense. And Kate moved almost silently, artistically moving her hands in the air, and the wild, stupefying, bittersweet ripeness of her body, fueling his imagination, was more and more powerful. And no one could not stay idle here: the sweet languor in his groin, the frantic heartbeat and pumped up by the blood current of his cock, which was so eager to go to the last but decisive battle. And he, Castle, was ready to catch Beckett's hand to yank him to himself, and then to sit on his hips and hard, passionate penetration, but Kate, deftly dodging the seeking hand of her lover, pulled him back in her ironic and contrived manner.
- Stop drooling, Castle! Who am I trying to do this for?
- You're.. perfection, - Rick swallowed exhaustedly, leaning back in his chair and squirming in his seat from nervous urges to love, - and I'm ready for... for all your conditions.
- Then watch your step, Castle. Watch it closely. And don't touch anything.
The latch clicked dryly, the top of the dance costume floated to the floor, and Kate, in a smooth confident movement, brought her breasts forward: under the stars, on the nipples, tiny reflective stickers glowed. And the small woman's hands pressed gently against her perfectly formed breasts, and Kate moved rhythmically, her whole body swaying intricately, and even in the faint glow of the nightlights, Rick could perfectly distinguish those chaotically shifting burning points. And there was no limit to the fantasies of her moves: Kate would squat down with her arms resting on her hands, spreading her legs invitingly with a backbend, then straighten up sharply with a turn over her left and right shoulder, again supporting her breasts, and swaying with her shoulders, and lunging, graceful as a cat, her whole body forward with a languid backbend, almost to Castle's nose, and then bounce back sharply as well.
- Yeah. it's a hurricane of them. a hurricane of them. something, - Castle barely squeezed out of himself brainwashed, exhausted from overstrain, clinging with his hands to the armrests, and at that moment, Beckett, who approached him, suddenly knelt down on her right hand from his friend. And in one quick movement her hot palms laid on the man's groin, slightly at the base of the shaft and gently pulling the skin, and in a moment Castle shook with a hard, passionate, uncompromising blowjob.
"And the good thing is... we... have a room like this. " - flashed through his foggy brain.
This room, their secret personal alcove, had only recently been set up in the Hamptons. Even literally in the very first time they came here, Castle shared with his beloved his plans: just needed to tear down the partition between the adjacent rooms, to carry out finishing work and change the furniture. And, strangely enough, the craftsmen worked professionally and quickly, sending Castle a daily photo report via messenger, and, a couple months later, when everything was ready, Rick immediately dragged Beckett there. Understandably, Castle was eager to please her, and Kate, in turn, was burning to please him. And there was something planned for the general future that Castle, for the time being, should not have known about. The costume for the dance had been sewn quickly and in the strictest secrecy, delivered with subterfuge to the agreed place, and now Rick, naked and perfectly aroused, was sprawled before her in a luxurious armchair and watching her performance, where there were no masks of the Creavers, but only passion. Passion indescribable and tender, all-consuming and selfless, binding and uniting, growing out of a series of years of difficult partnership, where there had been disappointment and bitterness, resentment and resentment, rejection and rejection, but Kate remembered many things that had once hurt them, deeply and firmly, but could not, unfortunately, translate into something acceptable to both of them. And now, dancing naked in front of Castle (more decent than some girls from burlesque shows!), Beckett seemed to be trying to justify herself, to beg for forgiveness. And the first hints of this production were born not now and not suddenly, but somewhere about three years ago...

- Guys! - Castle put his chair to the table of detectives and, cautiously squinting at the unapproachably gloomy Beckett, whispered in the tone of a venerable conspirator: - I have a business proposal to you!
The detectives looked at each other and leaned back in their chairs, smiling with difficulty.
- What about Detective Beckett? Aren't you guys a team now?!
- A team, and what a team,- Rick whispered in an even more villainous whisper, - "but I can't voice to Beckett what I ghostly hinted at a week ago.
- What's the big deal, Castle? - and Javi lowered his voice in tone with his buddy. - And why the secrecy?
- Remember what the owner of the thrift store said? - Rick even covered his mouth with his palm. - A dark-skinned girl with a short haircut and glasses, with a stunning figure fit for a burlesque show, but if it wasn't for the old charger of his camera, I wouldn't have to come to you with this.
- И...
- And I suspect that guy is right, and she really is a dancer: she held her head so gracefully, walked so gracefully, twirled her ass so professionally. And she could probably tell us a lot, but we don't know her by sight. So I would act randomly, since the cameras nearby did not help us in any way: we bypass all the more and less large shows, including illegal ones, and look for an approximate type, and then - it is clear.
After a mysterious glance, the guys eventually nodded in agreement, then surreptitiously "fed the birds".
- That makes sense, Castle,- Kevin squinted his right eye understandingly. - And I'll probably bother my buddy from Vice. That way we can narrow it down. And then, while we're out there, please don't screw up.

Castle entered a building that must have hated cops alone. Especially since there was no point in pretending. A few bills to the thugs at the entrance, a sweet smile at the front desk, and he was already inside. It was stuffy, loud music was playing, and low passions were raging.
The hall was full of almost only men, mostly of mature age or so. Cigar smoke was smoking, glasses were clinking, and a standing ovation accompanied the next dance. Such a middle-class cabaret, the more so, not only for a week, but also for the current day of search, he, Castle, has been a lot of places. "Admired" the painted transvestites, talked to a lot of pretty and not so pretty dancers, fan of him or even never heard of him, dancing very beautifully or not at all talented, but the results something and did not smell. All suspicious (not only girls!) Castle carefully, after a preliminary conversation, entrusted to the guys, but, contemplating later their sour, disappointed mien, came to the conclusion that his important search mission is far from over ...
Rick made his way to the podium through the clamoring crowd. At one of the tables close to him was free edge, and Castle, carefully adjusting on a stool, waved a waitress in a shouty-frivolous suit. He ordered a whiskey, waited, and all the while indifferently contemplated the podium, where the blonde was screaming. Who would have thought that visiting a burlesque show would be perceived by him not as a fascinating entertainment, but as an exhausting and hard labor. And if we take into account not the search for a witness, and his own libido, then the beauty more accessible he would have found, but today was all wrong: he, Castle, was "hobbled" by circumstances, and he was really squirming from the loud music in his ears, stuffy, smelling of alcohol and makeup atmosphere and a continuous flicker (as if in a whirlwind "tornado") covered with sequined tits. And all these forms were like from one mold and it was worth a lot of effort to look at the girl in profile. At least for this day he already had a couple of candidates, in something similar to each other and with whom he also had to talk personally. It was clear that Rick had no right to make a mistake in his choice, as he was pressed for time. And there was no telling how Beckett would feel about his methodology and his adventures, even for the sake of the common cause. Most likely she wouldn't have listened much and would have snorted dismissively. Why - a big free boy, having fun as he can, instead of thoughtfully working on the search for clues and the intricate twists and turns of such an unobvious case. And while Mr. Writer has the wind blowing in his head, his infantilism, swagger and indiscretion will not make his own conclusions and theses serious and thorough. Yes, he will drool at the first miniskirt, and then allow the painting on the chest, champagne on a brudershafte and strawberries in all intimate slits. Unserious, evolved and useless. Yes, that's how it is, and no other way...
Whiskey hit his head, Castle pressed two fingers to his temple: the noise around somehow smoothed out, and it was not easy to pick out some atypical sounds. In fact, just tired, he was already thinking about the loft with a relaxing bath, and even the banknotes under the linen rubbers did not lift his mood anymore. And Rick didn't listen to the screams of the entertainer when he tried to shout at the audience, calling for some Maya.
And then the orchestra dropped the bass, switching to lyrics, and the dudes around them suddenly stopped clamoring. And it was so atypical and strange that Castle felt as if someone inside had tapped him.
He jumped up on his stool, tugging at the lapel of his shirt, looking at the very spot on the podium where the curtain was pulling back.
And it was at that point that several spotlights crossed their multicolored matte beams, welcoming a mulatto girl in a cape as dark as night with longitudinal glowing inserts.
With a light step, like a goat, she jogged to the end of the podium to make a flying turn around the pole, and the flaps of her cloak developed in time with her movements. Flexible, trained body, smooth, polished movements of hands, free, relaxed smile - the artist was greeted with an approving whistle and applause. And the girl, in the spotlight from head to toe, clearly knew her business: with a coordinated leap she jumped on the pole, clinging to it with the bends of her legs, hanging down her head, and in an instant her cape, flying into the crowd, covered Castle with his head.
Rick grunted in surprise and tangled in the cloak for a while, and when he crumpled it at his chest, he saw two knees drawn up in front of his nose and a sweat-damp triangle of bikini: it looked like a challenge.

Maya smiled widely and infectiously: she smelled unfamiliar, pungent and musky, and it was so unexpected, so desperate and so sexy that Castle was speechless. Without even knowing what to say, he stared at those indescribably graceful, honed movements of her legs and body, and drifted off into the distance. And something yelled in his ears, compulsively clapped on his shoulder, and his hand went into his pocket for another banknote...
The number was brilliantly completed, and Maya in a low bow thanked the audience, and then a light, erotic step removed from the stage. And gaping mouth Castle, clutching at his chest her cloak, looked and looked after the dancer - with this thing was worth getting to know better. Because the type fit the description ...

- Guys, it's her! - Castle staggered out the back door of the cabaret. He barely moved his weakened legs, swallowed sticky saliva and put trembling fingers to the huge hickey, not suddenly appeared on his neck. And he remembered that evening to the last minute: how he had gotten backstage, how he had found Maya's room, how he had talked to her, and how he had enjoyed her strong, muscular and at the same time plastic in love body. And she squeezed him to the end, turned him inside out, and when he was lying there on her pillows, unable to move, he received an oral kiss as a reward for his efforts and passion. That was the real high, but then it was over abruptly. And after communication on the case, Maya, smiling embarrassedly, told him that after the performance, she just had nowhere to put the accumulated energy and therefore, in principle, between them - everything. And the testimony she will definitely give, and sex has nothing to do with it ...
Castle barely made it to the car and was relieved to get into the seat. He opened the window, spread his half-bent legs and dropped his arms along his body with pleasure: he was a hundredfold reward for his adventures, and whatever Beckett said, his method was the only true and effective.
And Rick closed his eyes with pleasure, and breathed with relief in the cool evening air, which suddenly smelled of cherries, and tenacious female fingers, unceremoniously pulling on his earlobe, pulled the writer out of a pleasant oblivion.
- A classic of the genre, Castle! How tired you must be! So, uh, what do we have so far? Another series of intimate murals with an equally intimate sequel?
- You have no idea, Beckett, what a woman can be capable of, - Castle blurred in a benign smile: not reacting to her sarcasm, he stared stupidly in front of him. - A plastic body, skillful lips, suppleness in passion. And I'm not talking about love, I'm talking about spontaneous attraction. At first you watch her - without interest, because you're tired. Then, from the beautiful erotic composition of the body, involuntarily infected by her drive, smell the aroma of her perfume, see how the naked breasts ripple. And then you get hot, and in one place you can't sit still, and you rush to her with all your legs to get acquainted under some pretext, and try to make her feel at ease. And you first look at you disdainfully, then - smiling broadly, and then - with a swing through the thigh threw on the bed and do not even let you undress. And then everything: her lips cover you and do not let you breathe, and the bodies stuck together do and do incredible wonders, spurring and whipping each other. And you feel good and hot, incomparably cool, and you forget everything. And then comes the finale, and it's like nothing else can compare. And you're ready to go on for more than a day or two, but it ends today. Turns out you're just being used as a toy, and there's no more prospects. And I'd like to go on and on... To remember and not forget, to be together, hand in hand. If we're talking about up the neckline of her blouse with two fingers, Kate suddenly jerked back. It wasn't often that Castle was attacked by a revelation, and such messages definitely made her want to run away. And while the above hardly applied to her, Beckett, like any other woman, would secretly agree with his words. But Castle isn't her type, and it's unlikely he ever will be...

And now, a few years later, they're together, and for some reason, she's doing the right thing for him time after time. Like now, she kisses him and won't let him go. To moan, to thrash and wheeze in pleasure.
And he holds her head that kisses his groin so passionately and skillfully. Moaning and rolling his eyes, he smoothes and rubs her slick strands, pressing her lightly against him until he finally releases. Screaming, howling, spewing seed, and Castle's heavy breathing and moans beside her - there is the best of both music and show at the same time.
And Kate lets go of her friend, and runs her palm over her face, rubbing the sticky mess over her skin, and takes a deep, deep breath.
- I wish, Castle, that you'd known then what I was capable of...