My only rule? Never get involved with the dancers.
I’m in charge at The Pink Pouch, and my rules are simple: keep the girls safe and never sleep with them. Watching sexy, curvy women dance is every man’s dream, and mine’s no different.
But when Melanie walks in, everything that has been forbidden is more desirable now than ever before.
I’ve known her since she was just a girl wearing her seashell bikini top, but she’s traded in seashells for tassled pasties; yet, I’m the one hanging from a string. The more I watch her hips sway around the pole, the more I realize that I’m completely screwed.