Dane's Pride

What in the hell possessed me?

(NOTE: Not edited)

"What the hell possessed me to agree to this?"

Dane Armstrong stood, casting an eye over the arid mounting yard and shook his head. There was nothing pretty about this track or its' surrounding grounds. It offered the basic necessities, rundown stables, mounting yard, a poor excuse for a member's stand, starter's gate and a finishing post. No rose gardens, paving, or lush grass and there was a definite lack of fashions on the field.

He scoffed at a tubby girl waddling through the crowd below. She had squeezed her bulk into a white dress making her look distinctly like a marshmallow tied too tight with string.  

She caught his eye, and seeing she had his attention, offered a wink.

He screwed his nose in disgust, just like he'd done moments before in the stables, when Charlie King's horse lifted its tail, puckered its' arse and farted directly at him.

Audaciously the puffy girl lifted her arm, moved it wildly from side to side, A bat wing of skin hanging under her upper arm flapped like a flag in the wind.

The gesture didn't go unnoticed. Carla King sniggered at his side. Dane turned to her and ran his eyes slowly over her body. Dressed in a tight black Valentino that barely covered her breakfast, he took in her svelte contours rescuing his sanity from the filthy display of peasantry below him.  

Carla leaned against his arm, pressing her perfectly implanted breast firmly into his tricep, She lifted her polished lips up to his ear. Her breath was hot against his skin.

"I see you haven't lost your touch Dane, you sure know how to win the belle at any ball." She sniggered and gestured with her head at the marshmallow girl.

Concealing the shiver that wound down his spine, Dane was careful not to display any overt physical reaction to her closeness. Carla might have been the only female in this god forsaken dust bowl who could compliment his Armani but he would never allow her close enough again to enjoy the spoils of what lie beneath it.

She had accompanied her brother to the races today just be in Dane's company, he was sure of it. He had become somewhat of an obsession for her. One quick fuck up against the back wall of a hotel lift, followed by a night of drunken sex meant he was hers for the keeping...or so she thought. She had a great body but that was it, she was a shallow half wit who connived, and did what ever was necessary to climb the social ladder and she would stop at nothing to get what she wanted.

Dane's intended to use her fixation to serve his own purpose today.  He let her follow him like a puppy, allowing her to drap herself on his arm as a buffer against the flabby armed hyenas circling him waiting for a chance to get their teeth into him and his money. Carla and her brother Charlie were the only people he would bring himself to acknowledge in this cess pit of common. 

The three of them stood out like a sore thumbs, elite amongst the working class country folk, and unfortunately for Dane every female in the place seemed to think he was there just for them. One even cornered him, lifted her dress up over her head bearing her tits as he exited the betting yard, they weren't half bad. What man wouldn't stop and look at a set of tits on full display...unfortunately these were attached to a head only a mother could love.

Why these girls even fathomed some vain hope of catching a rich man's eye always amazed him. The idea was ludicrous, what would possess a man of Dane's wealth, stature and means to lower himself for the likes of any woman from here?

It was a ridiculous almost laughable notion and he allowed the side of his lip to turn up at the thought before quickly correcting his expression to one that appropriately conveyed his disdain for this hell hole and its occupants. He despised small talk and fake interest. He refused the pretence of enjoyment, he would not pretend.