"Pornstar Dancing"

The sounds of a synthesizer and electric guitar gradually fill the air as you saunter deliberately towards the railing separating the upper level from the alley; there's a few stairs and some carpet, and since there's no pole nearby, you'll need to use the railing as your prop, at least for the moment, as a gravelly voice starts the song:

'P-p-p-porn star dancing!'

The guy who had been throwing stops suddenly as you aggressively move with the beat of the music, strutting and twirling, leaning back as you try to remember the moves you've been practicing in your room for your entire life, imagining a scenario like this, where you're trying to drive a bunch of guys wild with lust after your body.

'Kelly won't kiss my friend Cassandra,
Jessica won't play ball.
Mandy won't share her friend Miranda,
Doesn't anybody live at all?'

You grin with the last words of the line, your finger going to your lips as you lick them, running your hands down the middle of your body, down your neck, cleavage, stomach, stopping slowly where your pussy is still covered, for the moment, by your jacket, the slit coming dangerously close to exposing your center.

'Amanda won't leave me empty handed,
Got her number from the bathroom stall.
Brandy just got way too much baggage,
And that shit just gets old.

But I got a girl who can put on a show,
The dollar decides how far you can go.'

You turn your back to them, squeezing your exposed ass as the back of your jacket rises above your hips, and you give yourself a quick spank before you lean back over the railing, pretending to take your jacket off before pulling it back together, standing up straight.

Yeah, they're watching you now, all right.

'She wraps those hands around that pole,
She licks those lips and off we go,
She takes it off nice and slow,
'Cause that's Pornstar Dancin'!''

You grip the sides of your jacket, again turning your back to them as you pull it down to below your shoulders, giving the impressing to anyone that could just see your shoulderblades that you are naked, before you pull the jacket back together again, enjoying teasing the guys by making them think you're stripping.

'She don't play nice, she makes me beg,
She drops that dress around her legs,
And I'm sittin' right by the stage for this,
Pornstar Dancin'!

Your body's lightin' up the room.
I want a naughty girl like you.
There's nothing harder to do.'

You mouth the words 'naughty girl', making sure you're looking at the guy as you do so, straddling the railing as you do so, grinding against it. The feeling of your bare pussy against the metal pole excites you, and you forget where you are and who's watching for a moment, closing your eyes in bliss as you hump it with the beat for a little bit, before resuming your original plan. You turn away to undo the last button as you obscenely slide your naked torso along the railing.

'Stacy's gunna save herself for marriage,
But that's just not my style.
She's got a pair that's nice to stare at,
But I want Girls Gone Wild.

But I know a place where there's always a show,
The dollar decides how far you can go.'

The guys can see that you're now barely wearing the one piece of clothing that's covering you, and if they didn't know before, they know now that you were naked under that coat. But you don't know that, or care about that. Your only objective is to make the other team so hard they can't play.

You forget, as you feel the pole between your breasts, your pussy reveling in the cold, slimy metal feel against it, that your team is watching, too, wondering why you are paying so much more attention to their opponents then them. The grime continues to accumulate down the middle of your body as the song plays, and you push your whole body against it.

''She wraps those hands around that pole,
She licks those lips and off we go,
She takes it off nice and slow,
'Cause that's Pornstar Dancin'!

She don't play nice, she makes me beg,
She drops that dress around her legs,
And I'm sittin' right by the stage for this,
Pornstar Dancin'!'

With a quick roll and motion, you're facing away from the guys again, and you redo your one increasingly frayed button as you saunter back towards the guys, hopping up on the table between the lanes for a table dance.

You extend your arms in the air, shaking your hips as all 9 guys crowd around to try to get a look up your coat, but you keep your pussy hidden from them with one hand pushing your jacket against it to block it from public view. Eventually you start to rub it through your clothing as your other hand stays between your breasts, probing and grabbing your exposed flesh as your body tingles at the thought of what you're doing.

'Your body's lightin' up the room.
I want a naughty girl like you.
Let's throw a party just for two,
You know those normal girls won't do.'

With a skitter, you hop down off of the table and strut up to the leader of the other team, pushing him onto an nearby chair.

"what's your name?" you ask, forgetting that it's been up on the scoreboard for the past hour or so.

"Carl..."

"Today's your lucky day Carl." You laugh as you straddle him with the rap portion of the song coming up, meeting his eyes lustily.

'They wont do I need a girl that’s kinda frisky, Drinking with the fellas taking shots and getting tipsy.

Always wanna party cause she's sexy as hell and if I ever get in trouble bailing me outta jail.

Cause she a stone cold stunna hotter then a summer when she step up in the club every man and woman wanna.

She make me wanna get a stripper pole up in my home cause her porn star dancing has got me in the zone!'

His face is at you breast level, but you lean down to kiss him anyways, massaging his tongue with yours as you slowly buck into him, making sure you're right on his groin area, feeling the rough material of his jeans against your bare skin. The thought of you debasing yourself, barely covered, against a fully clothed guy, being watched by 8 other guys who wish they were there excites you even further.

You reward him - briefly - by spreading your jacket open to your shoulders again, letting him - and only him - see you naked from the waist up, the other guys seeing only most of your back. As the guitar solo starts, you see the other guys standing dumbfounded as you replace your jacket on your body.

'She wraps those hands around that pole,
She licks those lips and off we go,
She takes it off nice and slow,
'Cause that's Pornstar Dancin'!

She don't play nice, she makes me beg,
She drops that dress around her legs,
And I'm sittin' right by the stage for this,
Pornstar Dancin'!'

At this point, the guys all have to sit down due to their blood all flowing in the same direction, but you know that not all dancing is while standing up, and you slide yourself onto the other team's bench, where the other four members watch on in amazement.

With no shame, you pull yourself across their bodies, making sure they feel your tits, stomach, and pussy along the way as you slide. You 'accidentally' grab near their groins for your snakelike journey, your lips in an "o" shape as you glance at their dicks - and their eyes - while you pass them by, your jacket riding up your body. You can feel the one button straining as it's pulled across several layers of clothing, and you wonder if it'll still be on when you're done.

You pull yourself up by the last guy's neck, making sure his eyes have traversed the length of your mostly exposed body, before you stand up at the end of the song, brushing your jacket down and repositioning it around your chest as if nothing had happened.

There's no celebration, only silence. Your team is still struggling, but Carl's team can barely throw now as they seem to have lost their power. Still, you enter the last frame up by 5, which seems insurmountable.

Before you notice it, Carl walks up, and with visible effort, knocks down 7 to put his team up by 2. Still, you've got the better throwers and...

Michael pauses to look at you, glaring holes into the side of your head as you drunkenly and lustily smile at the guys on the other team, not giving your own guys any notice as he throws two gutter balls. It's only when you see your score not changing that you frown.

"Um...there must be some kind of mistake..." you say, but the second guy from Carl's team strides up, ignore the pat on the ass you give him as he walks by. The black collegiate shows no fear as he quickly puts up four more pins for his team, not able to get much power on his throw for some reason.

In response, your teammate barely skims one pin on the right side, and throws a hard ball straight into the gutter which miraculously spins out and knocks over five more for your team, pulling you within one.

Your beer addled brain can't comprehend why your team is throwing the game - they must be testing you, seeing if you can lower the other team's score even more! You stand up, matching the stride of the hippie from the other team as he goes to grab his ball.

"I just want to help you throw." you giggle. You lean into him, your arm circling his as he draws back. Close to his release time, your other hand presses into his groin, sending his ball straight into the gutter.

"..I didn't mean to do that..." you breathe into his ear, and you stay attached to him as he draws back again, and you need to take an obscenely low angle to stay with him, flashing everyone behind you your bare ass, again grabbing his hardening member through his shorts right before he releases.

"Honest mistake!" you say, as his ball sails harmlessly into the gutter again. Your teammate's already throwing at this point, and he manages, despite his horrible aim to the sides, to score four, putting you up by three.

They don't let you sidle up to the next guy, as Carl blocks your path to the other lane, but that doesn't keep you from walking beside him in your lane, your hands traveling over your breasts and stomach under the jacket, and you push the lapels out just enough so it's just your hands covering your nipples as he throws.

The ball bounds down the alley - you've never seen anyone bounce a throw before - but he manages to hit two on his first throw, and you flop down to the floor in apparent disappointment, your lead only one as you spread you legs, leaning back.

"I wish I could just lie back and sleep...." you have one hand on your breast now, and the other is placed over your pussy and clit, the only thing blocking it from his view as you pretend to rub yourself. "...just to finish this off."

Again, a lucky roll and spin gives your opponent two pins, putting them up by one. You roll and push yourself to your feet, but your teammate throws both of his balls at the same time, with a predictable result - two misses.

They want me to win it for them, you think! How nice of my team to let me contribute!

For his part, the last thrower on the other team - a musclebound frat boy who might be on his sixth or seventh year in this place of higher learning - seems to get distracted as you hold one ball near your breasts, your head bobbing back and forth as you compare the size of them, and manages to hit only one pin. So, as with last game, it's down to you.

You take your time lining up your first shot, but despite your best throw, it barely grazes the edge of the pin on the far left, leaving you with the exact same scenario as last game - two for the win.

Your focus on your shot - and a deep breath to try to focus your **** riddled brain - doesn't allow you to notice your teammates all quietly disappearing to the back, or the five guys from the other team 'sneaking' towards you, intent on distracting you like you'd distracted them during their shots. You pull the ball back, and lunching back with your arm on the backswing, you prepare to throw.

However, before you make your full motion, your wrist gets chopped, and while you manage to get it moving forward, it crashes to the ground and rolls harmlessly towards the lane. As you try to grab at it to throw it again, you feel your body wrapped in a bear hug, a hairy arm brushing against your stomach as you're pulled back.

A stray male hand cups your mound under your filthy jacket and squeezes it hard, and your gasp is quickly muffled as you feel your body pulled in several directions at once, your eyes only on the bowling ball inching forward towards the lane. Two hands pull at the sides of your jacket and the last button flies off harmlessly. The last remaining shred of clothing on your body is pulled off as your legs are lifted into the air, the jacket wrenched off of your shoulders, your entire body now fully exposed for the guys.

Just to make the proceedings official, your last shot rolls across the skunk line harmlessly into the gutter, and begins it slow descent into the back of the lane, with no chance of hitting a pin, or winning this game for you.

You're lifted onto an nearby table as your legs are spread obscenely in this public area, and you feel the grimy air on every part of your body now, with nothing hidden from view as the bowling shoes are pulled off of your feet, now leaving you completely naked. Anything that you don't feel air on is because there are foreign, rough hands on it. Hands on your thighs, intent on spreading your dripping center for all to see. On your breasts, mauling them and pinching them for the teasing you'd inflicted on these guys for the entire match, parading in front of them in nothing but a hobo's coat. You taunted them, and made them lust after you to try to beat them, but in doing so, you beat yourself.

And now your disgruntled teammates have left you here to fend for yourself. To serve these guys as payment, with no clothes, with one cock poking at your pussy, and another at your lips as your body is spread over the table...