A show

I let my knees fall a little wider, feeling the fabric stretch. The latex between my legs is soaked through with sweat, clinging to me in a way that leaves nothing to the imagination. But I keep the rest covered. Just enough to leave them wanting.

I push myself up onto my hands and knees, letting the latex slide against my skin as I crawl across the hardwood. The boots click with each movement, and I feel the cool air against the exposed curves of my ass. The slingshot bikini is barely holding on now, just a thin strip of black latex that's shifted aside, leaving only the narrowest band of fabric pressing against my labia.

I stop in front of the couch where the dark-haired guy is sitting, his drink forgotten. He's watching me with a look that's all hunger, and I let my hips sway as I crawl past him, slow and deliberate. I pause in front of the muscular guy next, tilting my head up at him, my tongue darting across my bottom lip.

"You boys wanted a show," I murmur, my voice low and rough from the dancing. "So watch."

I crawl past them both, making my way back toward the pole, the latex pulling tight with every movement. When I reach the brass, I hook one leg around it and pull myself up, my body arching as I climb. The strap across my chest has slipped completely now, my breasts bare and bouncing with each movement.

I spin around the pole, my thighs gripping the metal as I invert, my hair falling around me like a dark curtain. The room is a blur of faces and dim light, but I can feel their eyes on me, hot and hungry.

When I finally come down, I'm breathing hard, the latex soaked through with sweat. I drop to my knees in front of the bachelor, his eyes glassy and fixed on me. I reach up, my fingers finding the waistband of his jeans, and I tug at the button.