o4

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She didn't know if everyone else was just fucking idiots but she knew an orgasm when she saw one, and Maze Grant had just received an earth-shattering one. The crowd, like the fans they were, cheered enthusiastically for an encore while the girl onstage didn't-couldn't- move from her place on Blu's lap. Seriously, he had to carry her back to the dressing room with her legs wrapped around his waist.

"Now that's how you put on a show." Cinnamon enthused, flicking her light brown hair over her shoulder. "That was the sexiest thing I've seen in a very long time."

Brasilia Gomes or "Brazil" pursed her lips, unable to deny that but somehow, she doubted Shebazz would be a fan.

Choosing a song where Miguel was singing about fucking some girl like a pornstar was already risky but grinding on her sexy ass best friend's lap until she climaxed... Miss twinkle toes was getting bolder by the minute.

She really was just like her.

Brazil lifted a perfectly plucked eyebrow, lost in thought.

Believe it or not, she and Maze used to be best friends. This was about three years ago, back when the former ballerina first arrived to the club, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and ready to give 'em hell. Brazil could get with that.

Plus the girl was a total knockout, and Brazil primed herself on being the Bad Bitch Aficionado since she collected them like Pokémon. There was no way they weren't going to hit it off, her entrance was at the perfect time, the Red Room was starting to feel stale and could greatly benefit from some new energy. She  herself had been there for a year already and grew bored with her fellow dancers because none of them had that "it" factor at the time.

Stripping was a lot more than just ass-shaking and the new girl in the pink jogging suit seemed to get that. She understood it was about the fantasy, the seduction of it all, and for that, Maze was a diamond in the rough.

They took trips together: Miami, Cali, Jamaica. Hell, they were even roomies for two years. It was like fate had brought this gorgeous girl to Brazil but she should've known it was too good to be true.

From the start, they bumped heads over small things. Who got to wear what, which themes they should dress up for. No one had questioned her ideas before, there was a hierarchy to follow which everyone respected, except for Maze. Brazil even tried to share some game on club operations, give her tips for working the pole, extend invitations to hang out with the other girls but it was obvious her only plan was to make it to "the top," where Brazil happened to be already. But the bitch was ambitious. And within two years, the headline that used to read MAIN EVENT BRAZILIAN BEAUTY had changed to MAIN EVENT MAZE N ALL WAZE. She had officially been dethroned.

Not to mention, Maze would become downright insufferable when she flirted with Blu, as if that really was her man. Brazil wasn't afraid to make it known that she would take him in the back of her throat like a shot and Maze would get so pissed and possessive that she wouldn't talk to her. Everyone knew it was hypothetical. Not because she wouldn't do that, but because Blu didn't even have eyes for her. All of that sexy was wasted on pining after his best friend that preferred to keep him dangling by the blue balls, while Brazil would drain them dry.

She could recall that one time at the Tiki bar in Hawaii, when they went on vacation to visit Blu and his very big family. Like a kid in a candy store, Brazil introduced herself to his fine uncles and extremely handsome dad.

"Ohana means family." She had said and Maze laughed her ass off at the Lilo and Stitch reference.

"You are wild for that one."

"I saw an opportunity and I took it, babes."

The girls were inseparable, shoulder to shoulder, sleeping in the same bed at the resort, sharing clothes, braiding each other's hair, the whole nine yards. Blu didn't seem excited to split the attention but he didn't downright hate it. She could tell it would take some getting adjusted to which was fine by her. He was different back then, still very attentive, just a little more cordial and wet-behind-the-ears, typical of any twenty-year old.

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