There's a certain thrill that rolls up from the base of my spine, a tantalizing frisson that sends electric shocks of anticipation dancing across my skin. As the house lights dim, my heart holds its breath. My hands slide along the silk of the curtain, its cool softness reassuring against my sweaty palms. This is my kingdom, my playground - the buzzing nightclub in the heart of Seoul.
Every night, without fail, the rhythm sets me alight. I move, my body transforming into a sculpture of want and tease, as the music pulses alongside our collective heartbeat. The crowd's yearning gazes touch me more tangibly than any physical hold. I witness their hunger and feed them sparingly, a morsel of fulfillment woven into every suggestive gesture. There's power in continuous yearning; I've tasted it and danced in its heady torrents.
The house vibrates with a feral, encompassing desire. It thrums through the air, ensnaring us in a seductive dance of power and submission. And then there's him – a face in the crowd... not just any face. His eyes, piercing, dark orbs, they see beyond my dance and sequins, seeking the real me. A shiver outpaces the beat of the music, an affirmation of shared desire and an unspoken promise of pleasure. It's like he found me on an xxx linksite and knew exactly what he would find here.
Teasing, coaxing, I trace the outline of latent passion. Each glance we exchange amplifies the tension, thick and dangerous as a live wire sizzling underneath the surface. It's a game of slow seduction, a dance far more intimate than the one I perform on stage. This dance, it’s played in silence, in the midnight shadows, in the electric connection of our gazes. It’s a dangerous game I've been playing since I turned 40, scaled the fear and uncovered the power in my non-binary identity. It's freedom, unadulterated and pure, the right to be whoever or whatever I choose to be in that very moment. |
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