A dance was an art form, whether in front of an audience full of gentlemen and ladies or in front of lascivious losers in a bar. She swirled around the pole as graceful and elegant as a respectable ballet dancer lost in the beauty of her own motions. Her eyes behind the mask that had been closed, opened as her set ended and locked directly with the steely, grey eyes of the man in the front row. Her heart skipped a beat. He knew who she was!
It was his teacher he had back in high school
Diety thoughts were having a field day
Running through his mind
How should he go about this?
Naughty or nice?
Bartender pour me a few more shots
Then I'll decide
By
Dwayne Clark
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