Wrrrrong

As the music of the strip club plays, you and Surge happily dance on stage, far too drunk to realize that you could change out of your black microbikinis if you wanted. You’re just happy to have Brooke dancing between you two in a state of abashed nudity. Her large, brown tits can no longer hide behind her lame vest, instead swaying around like delicious eye candy for everyone to take in as she swings her body around seductively. Adding to her new look, you’ve pulled her bangs to the side and clipped them in place, revealing two cute and dazzling eyes rife with embarrassment. If she wore more feminine clothes and stopped offensively flirting with every girl she saw, then the girls would probably be flirting with her instead. Big boobs, round ass, smooth skin and an adorable face… Really, she could be a sexy chocolate treat if she wasn’t so obsessed with trying to be a suave womanizer! The cherry on top is the body oil you and Surge covered her with, giving her skin the perfect sheen for getting ogled by strangers.

“Can I please get dressed now?” Brooke asks, still bouncing her tits around as she steps to the rhythm of the music. “I don’t wanna strip at my own club. That’s what you two are for! I can’t enjoy staring at your round, bouncy, smackable asses when I’m up here shaking mine!”

Surge laughs. “You’re sho funny!” She throws several slaps at Brooke’s backside, quickly proving who has the most smackable ass at the moment. “Hey, Emilia. You know what’d be *hic* really funny? If we fucked Brooke’sh brains out in front of everyone.”

You gasp. Did she just suggest you have sex in public? On a stage, in front of an audience? A threesome, even? “…That’sh a great idea!” you answer. “Let’sh make it a battle! Whoever cums first loses!”

Surge’s eyes light up with stars, and she runs backstage without a word. Brooke tries to stop her, but you grab her by the wrist. “You have to shtay on stage.” You slap her left asscheek, just for fun.

“*Ah!* Why?” she asks.

“Becaushe you don’t like it, and I don’t *hic* like you. But I like your dancing!” You swat her ass again, and she resumes dancing.

Surge shortly returns with two harnesses in hand. “Hey Emilia, look what I found! Shtrap-ons! With dongs thish long, we can fuck her brainsh out fer sure!” The strap-ons are pink, ribbed, and huge enough to make you grin from ear to ear. You also note with joy that the strap-ons are open-crotched, which will make it easier to satisfy your own lust later.

You can feel the perspiration form on Brooke’s skin, which is only possible because you couldn’t help but start feeling her up at some point. Sputtering, Brooke asks, “L-Ladies, wouldn’t you like me to wear the strap-on? I’m a pro with it, I promise! Best you’ve ever had! I’ll make you feel great! You’ll go straight to heaven! Only the best for such precious, gorgeous guests!”

Well, looks like her annoying “sex master” act is harder to get rid of than her dumb clothes. You ignore her offer entirely and begin making an announcement to the audience. “Ladiesh and *hic* gentlemen! It’sh another battle! You thought it wouldn’t happen but it did! Err, it is! What’sh the right tense? Anyway, it’s Brooke’sh annoying, rude, and really pretty pussy againsht me n’ Surge’s cool, elegant, classhy, and huge fucking rubber dicksh! Who’ll win? It’s *hic* our dicksh!”

The crowd cheers as you and Surge strip off your bikinis, too drunk to realize that you don’t have to take the tops off to wear a strap-on. You both equip yourselves with rubber cocks, and the “battle” begins.