Life as a good little girl/Distract her by commenting on the brass pole in the living room

From Create Your Own Story

Gulping, you force yourself to react quickly. Looking around you spot what you hope is a way out.

"Wh-why is there a pole in the middle of the room?" you ask, staring at the shiny brass pole that descends from the ceiling. "Is it a fireman's pole?"

Lola stops her advance, tilts her head back and laughed, a full-throated laugh of amusement, not malice. In your few months down south you've come to recognize the difference thanks to the girls at school.

"That's not a fireman's pole, sweetie, that's a dance pole."

"Dance pole? What's a dance pole?"

Lola looks at you thoughtfully, her eyes tracing up and down your body in a manner similar to Tiffany's. You would call it predatory and calculating, but Tiffany wouldn't look at you like that so you must be misinterpreting the look, which changes to a smile. "Why don't I show you quickly. Then you can try it."

Twirling in place, which makes the little robe swirl outward and lets you see her full, firm ass, she saunters toward the pole, her hips swaying in a manner you know men like. You've tried emulating it in your bedroom, but you're not sure you've got it right. Or if you'd ever have the guts to walk that way. As she steps onto the little stage under the pole you notice something else.

"Why do you have a mirror on the wall?" you ask, pointing at the wall facing your house. As long as a set of patio doors it extends from floor to ceiling. Sparkling clean, it gives a perfect image of a tall gorgeous woman whose ass was barely covered by her bathrobe, and a petite little girl whose clothes barely covered even less.

"It makes it easier to practice if you can see yourself," she replies, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her full lips.

"But what do you practice?"

"Let me show you a few things," Lola says, and shrugs out of her robe. Your eyes go huge at the sight of her body. She has just as much hair down below as you do, which makes you feel less insecure about your own bald pussy. But it's her breasts your eyes fasten on. You don't even know what to compare them with for size, but they seem utterly perfect.

"Double D's," she says with a proud smile, rubbing her hands over them.

"I wish I had breasts like that," you blurt, and blush.

"Aw. You'll grow a pair soon."

"Not like that. Mom's barely any bigger than I am," you sigh.

"And barely any older, I hear. What is she, mid-twenties?"

"Twenty four, nearly twenty-five," you answer automatically as your eyes follow her fingers around and over two thick nipples.

"Wow, you really do take after her. Well, I tell you what. There's a way for you to get big titties like mine. If you don't grow a pair like 'em yourself maybe one day I'll take you to someone who'll help you out."

"Really?" you smile at the thought of having actual breasts.

"Sure, but if you end up as gorgeous as your mommy you'd probably want to stop with a set of D's, otherwise they'd look too big. But I've got a feeling all those guys you're fucking, and the ones you haven't gotten around to yet, love your tits just the way they are," she says and looks at the mirror and your house beyond.

"Now watch a little while," she says, and starts to move around the pole. She moves slowly at first, but soon she's pushing up against the pole, winding herself around it, and even hanging upside-down from it before long.

You gape at the side of her trim, athletic body twining around the pole, staring at her bald pussy when it comes into view, admiring her tight ass and those big boobs that barely seem to move as she uses her thighs to hold herself upside-down from the pole. You stumble to a couch that faces the pole, falling onto it as you wonder how she can hold herself up without falling. With your mouth wide open and a funny feeling between your legs you keep watching as she continues doing acrobatic maneuvers on the shiny brass pole, twirling around it, up and down, until she stops, not even breathing hard she steps down from the platform without even bothering to collect her robe.

"How'd you like to be able to do that?"

"R-really? I mean, wow, that was, um... it looked fun," you say with a blush.

Lola smirks. "You know what? I bet you'd be a natural. You'd just have to come over for an hour a day to practice and you'll soon be doing the same thing."

"Well..." you think of what you could be doing with that hour, and have a picture of yourself sitting at home with your weird step-brothers. A smile crosses your face at the thought of not having to see them for an hour. "Okay!"

"Terrific! Now, why did you show up here in the first place?"

"Oh! I was locked out of the house."

"Did you knock? Danny and Mark are usually home playing with their cameras and computers," Lola smirked, looking at the mirror as if she could see through it to the two bedroom windows facing her mirror.

"I, um, didn't want them to see me. Dressed like this."

"Ooh, still a closet slut. Well they'll probably know all about your endless sexcapades soon enough, so you should really get comfortable with that idea. Anyway, it just so happens I have a key. Somewhere. How about you have some fun with the pole while I go find it and get dressed."

Your eyes light up at the idea of soaring like a ballerina around that pole and you rush forward.

"Oh, and speaking of dressed, take off your clothes before you start," Lola says, stopping you in your tracks.

"What? Why?"

"Well I wouldn't want you scratching the pole now would I?" she said with wide, innocent eyes. "Besides, you learn best when you can see how you look on the pole."

"Oh. I guess..." you don't see your your could possibly scratch it with the clothes you're wearing, but nonetheless you shyly remove your clothes, feeling both self-conscious and a little excited at this epitome of sexiness seeing you naked.

"Aw, aren't you a sexy little thing. The boys must've nearly fainted when you started asking them to bang you in every hole everyday."

"I, I didn't ask. I mean..." you stumble over your words as she laughs.

"Ooh, you 'suggested it'. I love a bit of rape play too," she says as she struts into another room, leaving you with your mouth open and another protest on your lips. Shrugging it off you turn to the pole.

"Pretend the pole's one of the many many boys who've sunk themselves balls deep in that little cunt of yours!" Lola calls out from the other room.

Blushing at her misconception of you as a slut you nonetheless approach the pole. At first you're clueless about what to do until you remember one move she did that you're sure you'd be able to do. Making sure that she's not there - you'd hate for anyone to see you doing this - you push your hips forward, pressing your pussy against the pole. You hesitate against it's cool surface, unused to feeling anything other than cotton panties against your incredibly sensitive lips, then pull back and do it again. Before long you're rotating your hips as you do it, and the sound changes to a wetter smacking sound, and you pick up the pace, moaning as your lips scrub up and down, harder and harder against the pole. Forgetting about Lola you pick up the pace, your body feeling just like it did when you watched those rough gang bang videos from Danny and Mark's bedrooms.

"That's the way to do it!" Lola applauds, and you let out a startled squeal, falling down the pole to the floor, your sopping pussy making an embarrassing wet sound as it slides down the pole. It takes all your willpower not to keep humping it but you somehow manage to pull yourself away from the brass, your face bright red as you see the obvious smear of your juices on it.

"A natural born slut," Lola says with a grin as she takes your hand and leads you to the door. "Now let's go to your place, hun."

Life as a good little girl/Forgetting your clothes you follow her outside

Life as a good little girl/You remind Lola of your clothes, and she grabs them on the way out