Chapter Twelve
Three-Way Stretch
The familiar, boring, gyrating music reverberates in her ears, while the smoky atmosphere is painful to her lungs. By adhering to the demands of the audience, she sways toward the chrome-plated pole in a provocative manner. On gripping the pole with one hand, she catches a glimpse of a distorted refection of her heavy naked breasts.
How many more times do I have to degrade myself like this? I know what they want to see! Clare, where are you? You’re better at this than I am.
With further demands being shouted from the unseen crowd, she grips the pole with both hands, arches backwards and pushes her crotch hard against the pole.
You should be here Clare. Aren’t we supposed to be a partnership?
Now grinding her black thong against the smooth, oiled chrom
