Showing off her goodies

Amanda wanted nothing better to just leave the stage once the rose and panties hit the floor. Instead she kept her hands on her feet, with rose and panties between them, and swivelled a little bit at a time so the entire audience got a chance to look at her naked, and slightly torn, sex.

At the finish she stepped out of the panties and, twirling gracefully as she did so, bent her legs to pick them up. She faked rubbing the rose against her slit as she straightened, getting a roar of approval. Money was out and flapping, but she felt like giving them a final bit of teasing before she accepted their offerings. It might up the amount they wanted if she made them wait.

So thinking she began a routine that the strippers out back had been looking forward to for a long time. It began with the panties.

Typhoid Mary's panties, they'd called them, Mary being the original unliked, and aside from Amanda only, wearer. Bethany laughed as Amanda sucked them into her thoroughly scratched mouth, with cheeks, tongue, gums and lips all bearing slashes from thorns. The lace of the panties was thin, and their size small, so it was easy for her to practically inhale them, letting her saliva soak into the unwashed underwear.

"Syphilis for sure," Bethany muttered to the laughter of the girls.

Amanda tilted her head back, drawing them out again like a magic act as the crowd clapped its approval. While rubbing her back against the pole she then pushed the panties a little bit at a time into her cunt, its only lubrication a sheen of sweat and a few droplets of blood. Being but panties it wasn't hard for her to push them in, though they didn't go deep.

Looking at the crowd with sultry eyes Amanda slowly drew them back out again, then pushed them back in like she was masturbating on stage. The crowd seemed to enjoy it, but the strippers enjoyed it more.

"Crabs?" Katie asked.

"Nah, she's got no bush. Maybe the clap," Britney countered.

Amanda drew the panties out one last time, then twirled them around her head, pointed to the audience, and threw them. They didn't go exactly as planned, and the man she'd been pointing towards, without actually looking, glared at her in offense, face hardening.

Turning to the pole, Amanda was oblivious to offending anyone, and began to make love to the golden metal that none of the pros wanted to touch. It was the mark of an amateur to use it, they thought, and more privately added that if the cleaners couldn't bring themselves to touch it in the ten years it had been on the stage then they weren't going to either.

Amanda, however, was enthusiastically licking and sucking and grinding against it. Maybe it should have been pleasant, but it kept feeling like wasps were stinging her. She'd hump it hard and her clit would hurt like hell. Or her legs would wrap around it and her thighs would burn. She tit-fucked it and nearly jumped away when she squashed her tits into it.

Grimly she continued, her face the picture of enjoyment as she scrubbed her privates against it.