The turning point came one afternoon at the club. It was an hour before opening time and Josey was behind the bar, watching me dance. I’d asked for her opinion on a new routine I wanted to do at the club. All I wore was a red bra and thong connected at my waist with some ribbon. The thong was a simple line of silky material that I could use for stimulation. Red leather heels completed the look. Led Zeppelin’s “Whole Lotta Love” played in the background while I spun around on one of the poles. I gyrated against the cool metal as I slid to the floor, head falling back. By the time I reached the orgasm section of the song, knees far apart and back bent to the floor, circling my hips and pushing against my hand, I noticed that Josey had been wiping the same spot since the routine began, her ga
