This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
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Dance is a song of the body. Either of joy or pain. ~Martha Graham
I’m down to my g-string, hips slinking from left to right, hands stroking my chest, tugging at my nipples and I’m letting my eyelids half close. My attention’s on the guys at the edge of the stage and I slip my right hand beneath the hem of the spandex, pretending that I love what I’m doing, that it’s getting me off.