You’re there again, performing your act. And so beautifully.
The other so-called dancers have nothing on you, parading up and down as they do, flaunting themselves on the dancefloor. Or strutting their cheap wares in the kind of lewd displays that say they’ll be selling something else later, to whichever of the gawping spectators has the fattest wallet.
But you…
Lily…
I know it’s a stage name, but it suits you so much better than Martina.
You move with such grace, your spine arching as you sway to the music, sliding long limbs along the pole. Everything toned and perfect, effortlessly, your body does what you ask of it, your hair sweeping a long arc as you roll and rotate and undulate.
How do you do it?
You make it look so easy.
easyPirouetting, you wrap a leg around the pole, fle
