Jodi's blush darkened as Sasha played with her breast -<em>ooh, she knows what she's doing</em>! she thought, lust burning faintly between her legs.<em>Just because you're a bitch doesn't mean I can't enjoy this</em>.<br/>Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cecil's wide stare.<em>Have a good look at what you can't have, boytoy</em>, she thought with a flash of dark humor, recalling her days onstage with Maxine.<br/>Sasha wanted a strip show, did she? JJ inhaled deeply, lidding her eyes, her breast pushing against Sasha's hand.<br/>The lithe blonde reached over her shoulders and gripped the back of her shirt, pulling it over her head, using the movement as a distraction to mask her knee moving onto the bench. She dropped the shirt onto Sasha's hand, shaking her head, long straight blonde hair whirling around her face. She stood on one leg, her other foot finding a grip on the bench, and ran her hands under her breasts. The forward squeezing motion, combined with the deft movements of her fingers, popped the clasp easily. JJ shrugged out of the bra, rising off her haunches to stand on the bench itself. The heel coming off the ground crossed over her other foot, pinning the hem of her jeans to the bench - her pants slid past her slender hips as she stood straight and dropped to the bench without her interference, leaving only a black tie-off G-string cupped tightly, inadequately, over her mound.<br/>"Like this?" she cooed to Sasha, whose face was now about level with JJ's creamy, perky breasts, capped with wide, dark pink areolae. The habits and mannerisms she'd adopted as a stripper came right back; they gave JJ a certain measure of confidence. Sasha wanted her.<em>Everyone</em>wanted her. She knew how to handle that.