Dance Of Thieves Age Rating Novels & Stories

They move like they’re made of water—twisting, gliding, flexing. “Oh…” I whisper. “Oh YES,” Rosa whispers back. The first dancer unbuttons his jeans slowly, teasing the crowd, rolling his hips. The other two follow, sliding denim down toned legs until— They’re in thongs. Tiny. Stretchy. Obscenely perfect thongs. The crowd goes feral. I grip Rosa’s hand. “I’m going to die.” “If you die,” she says, “I’m putting ‘death by stripper’ on your gravestone.” One by one, the dancers leave the stage and move through the crowd, picking women at random.