“You don’t think I’m crazy?” I have to ask.
“I think you’re perfect.”
James holds me in his arms in the silence of my room and I drift off to sleep feeling better than I have in years.
***
“Good morning,” I stretch, yawning, and wrap my arms around James. He kisses me, not worried about morning breath, not worried about any of the things guys normally care about.
“A very good morning,” he murmurs, eyeing my breasts, which are completely bare. The cool morning air has my nipples hard and alert, and I blush as I notice them.
“Oops,” I reach for the blanket, but James grabs my wrist.
“None of that, now. No shyness. No modesty. Not today. Not after last night.”
“Last night was good.”
“Last night was perfect,” he corrects me.
“The only thing perfect here is you.” James is on his side, facing me, but I push him onto his back. Then I straddle him, completely naked. My tits dangle in his face and he reaches up with his mouth and sucks on one nipple while I pinch the other.
I’m reminded of our first date.
I’m reminded of how much I wanted to feel his body against mine. Now I finally have him beneath me, within my grasp, and I’m not going to let him get away this time.
Kissing him, I trace my tongue along his bottom lip, then glance at the clock on my nightstand.
“I have one hour before class,” I tell him. “How fast can I make you come?”
Epilogue: 3 Months Later
Kasey
“Good morning, class,” I stroll into the pole room at Club Kitten. My 5-inch heels click loudly against the floor and my students immediately act like they weren’t just zoning out. That’s fine. They had their rest: now it’s time to work.
And they’re going to be working.
When I took this position as a dance instructor, I didn’t do it for the money or to feel superior. I did it to change lives. I did it to help girls and women with the same passion about dance to learn what they need to in order to succeed.
I did it to help them grow.
“I’m Kasey. A few of you know me, but I also see a couple of new faces here. Welcome to pole class, ladies. Let’s start with some warm-ups. If you have any questions, feel free to raise your hand if you need help. You can also talk to me privately after class.”
I start the music and the atmosphere immediately changes. The tired expressions are gone, replaced with determination, acceptance, strength.
These girls are ready to fight and I’m going to be their leader.
We twirl, we climb, we pose. We dance over and over until our legs are killing and our feet are sore. Then we dance a little bit more.
By the time our class ends, my students are sweaty and, if my eyes aren’t deceiving me, they’re all in at least a little bit of pain. Good. I want them to feel this workout tomorrow. I want them to remember the burn. I want them to keep this in mind all day. No matter what they’re doing, I want them to remember how they felt when they were on the pole.
I want them to remember how they felt when they were flying.
The last student leaves and I slip my heels off. My feet ache, but I ignore the pain as I clean the poles and sweep the room. Once I’m satisfied that everything is to my liking – and, more importantly, to Sassy’s – I head to the locker room and take a shower.
The water washes over me in waves and I think about how much my life has changed in such a short amount of time. My parents would be disappointed to know I’m living with James, but I’m not.
I’m fucking thrilled.