*This chapter was written by WritingGirl*

Unfortunately, it was not uncommon to see drunk girls all over men and themselves in this particular club, a few of the bartenders had an awful time keeping track with who had too much or too little. With the crowds at the club, not a lot of people would remember the faces here. Though, every time she had to help peel some "poor girl" out of the bathroom losing her dinner; or some "innocent lady" that was prowling way too many men for more drinks; or even a handful of lean men that took a step too far and she could drag out, was painfully horrid. Just seeing them put her in a bad mood, but once she passed through the crowd, and set eyes on her pole, she could feel a relieved sigh escape her luscious lips.

At first this job had been just as awful as her boss, but over time she had grown to enjoy it. There was just something so graceful about seeing someone dance with a pole, and their flexibility and skill they held could impress anyone with one glance. She didn't want to boast, but she found herself pretty talented with the pole. Her tips and return customers could vouch for that. 

Her heels clicked loudly on the tiled floor as she reached the stage. One of her coworkers already spotted her, and they had a silent moment of passing as they switched gears. With their boss, he liked to have the girls back to back on their performances. After all, it was what the customers wanted. Her coworker hopped off the stage, slipping into the crowd without a word as Sandra swung up her thigh to meet the top of the stage. It was built about waist high to keep the horn-dogs off the girls. Many girls complained about the lack of stairs, but in this case, it always felt good to wear a thong going up.

With a purr, she felt the string stretch tightly against her skin, shoving into her hips and down her cheeks to her genitals. You had been caught in the middle, trying desperately to struggle when your prison seemed built just for you. The cheeks around you weren't hard, but you could tell when they moved that this girl had more muscle under her skin than Cindy ever would. After time of working on the pole, this woman was built to work all she had. Her ass seemed just as big as Cindy's, easily gobbling you and the thong up without a hair of room to move. 

That meant every time you tried to move to at least free your face from her hole, the thong would shift and shove your head right back into the deepest crevices of her crack. Muscles and fat swung you back and forth, digging you deeper into her until you were curved with her ass, covering her hole just in case she bent over for anyone to see. Suddenly, your world stopped, and you wriggled with all your might, but the woman above you didn't notice a single movement. Instead, her leg swung up, opening her cheeks to a full assault for her thong.

It plastered you against her backdoor, leaving to scream as your body was forced painfully into her skin. You could feel your stomach arch inside her open hole as he yawned in front of you, ready to welcome you just like Cindy's had. Unable to escape, let alone move, you could only hope your yells were loud enough as the dancer stretched, dangerously dangling you above her widening hole.

Sandra allowed herself a moment of pleasure feeling her thong rub and stretch against her nethers, just a passing to start the excitement before she entered her stage. She could already feel eyes on her, and she grinned to herself as he flipped some hair over her shoulder. Finally climbing atop the stage, she allowed her ass to display for all who were watching as she crawled over to her pole, lying a hand over it before she plopped her ass down beside it. Draping her arms around the silver, she showcased her talent with her award winning smile. 

Now was time for the fun part.