Amateur Pole-Dancing Showcase!

Despite Yang’s whining, the twins still refused to let her onto the dance floor. Instead the three of them walked a circuit around the club, Melanie waving for a drink each time they passed a bartender that she passed to Yang. The young student Huntress was utterly sloshed at this point, and as the Malachite girl’s had hoped, nicely pliant to outside suggestions in her heavily **** state.

Melanie and Malachite, decided it was about time to move on with their plans for the blonde already, and thus steered her to a stage on the far side of the club, near the DJ booth. The three girls then stopped and leaned against the stage for a rest.

“Hey. Yang, was it?” Miltiades asked.

“Hmm?” Yang hummed with all her usual eloquence.

“How proud are you of that body?” Melanie picked up where her red-clad sister left off.

“Huh?” Yang was thrown for a loop by such a line of inquiry, before a slow smirk overtook her face, “Feels damn good to have the best knockers around.”

“Hmph, yeah, you got them both out on a platter in that jacket, you’re so sure you’re so great.” Miltiades dismissed snidely.

Yang grinned a litter wider at that. “If ya got ‘em, flaunt ‘em,” She slurred drolly.

“Oh yeah? Well why don’t you take it all the way then?” Melanie challenged.

“Huh?” Yang blinked uncomprehendingly.

Miltiades pointed to the stage they were leaning against. “See those poles,” she asked, waiting for Yang to turn and nod her head, “Dance on them and really show your stuff.”

Yang continued to stare at the poles for a moment before what she heard really penetrated. “Hahah, yeah, nope.”

“Hmph, then I guess you’re just chicken.” Militaides needled.

Yang wasn’t gonna bite that easily though “Yeah, sure. That’s the real problem with that idea.”

Melanie though had a better sense of what Yang’s buttons were, “So you’re not gonna prove to us you aren’t wearing a push-up bra?”

Yang swung her gaze over to Melanie, gaze remarkably steady for how drunk she was, “As if anyone said I had a push-up on to begin with.”

“Oh please,” Miltiades snarked, catching on quick, “As if your tits don’t look as inflated as your damned hair extensions.”

At that Yang’s eyes flashed red and she gripped the stage as her glare flitted betwen the two sisters. “Okay then, fine, I’ll indulge your need to see my tits this once, and after you do, I’m gonna make you both eat every wise-crack you just made at me.”

And with that, Yang heaved herself up on stage and pulled herself up on a dancing pole. A couple of club-goers close-by saw her up there and came over to stand behind the Malachites to see what was going on.

Yang rolled her hips as she adjusted her grip on the pole. Her stomach seemed to have settled from all the drinks she’d had pressed on her, and she gave her head a few experimental tosses to confirm no nausea before moving on, oblivious to her slowly growing audience.

Satisfied, Yang squatted down only to arch her back and slowly pull herself back up straight, and once she reached her full height she started rocking on her feet to the beat of the current soundtrack. She pranced a circle around the pole while gyrating her hips, then wrapped a knee around it to do a short swing. Her hand instinctively came up to open her jacket as she did so, the heat of the lights and the **** making her feel **** to let her skin breathe. She rolled her shoulders as she slid the jacket down her arms, and when it bunched at her elbows she let it drop with a flourish of her now freed arms.

Her substantially-sized-but-still-ignored audience hissed a collective breath at seeing busty blonde beauty shed a layer and continue dancing.