Chapter 11: Welcome to Burlesque – read here.
I almost lost ten years off my life as I watch Kate grip the bottom of the pole and cartwheel herself into an inverted split, suspending herself for a moment before scissoring her legs up to wrap her ankles around the pole. Another ten went when she holds herself there and throws her arms open for a moment.
“She’s an absolute natural, Elliot. So much upper body strength and her flexibility is fantastic.” Not really the words I am wanting to hear from Stella as we stand and watch the four girls on stage throw themselves through the rigorous routine. My hands almost go to my pants as I watch my girlfriend humping the long thick piece of metal, and for a moment I wonder if she has managed to make the pole wet with all that bumping and grinding.
“Yeah, fucking natural alright.” Stella laughs at my discomfort.
“You know, with all that natural ability we could reinstate the ring routine. The crowd would love it.” Stella sounds almost wistful. No way.
“This is a one time gig, Stells. You can’t have her, she’s mine.” But oh, I could see her doing that routine with me and everyone watching us. There was a time when Stella and I performed that act, but that was a long time ago. The one part of it I recall better than anything was loving the way the audience would watch us, imagining themselves in our place. As a performance routine it was the closest thing to public sex that you could get without being arrested. It never failed to turn the crowd on and the thought of doing that with Kate makes me rock hard.
