Sans Dancing Novels & Stories

Melissa cried all through, getting to put a lot of makeup on her face made her look less of a lost drunk girl. About thirty minutes to their dance, Jake her partner decided to take their intro routine with her. "We are dancing FADED by Alen walker, not Salsa!" Jake said in surprise as Melissa missed the step again "You are not yourself, Melissa" Jake whispered as Melissa danced to him. According to the dance, they spilled and walked towards each other slowly on their toes.

Double dose was the code that meant only one thing: Climb on the counter and attract more customers using the minimum of nudity that will not cause embarrassment. Not that my friend wasn't good enough to stay focused on her curvy body, but some customers used to be too smart to just watch and go back to the dance floor, without consuming, without falling into the vicious cycle and contributing to the nightclub's monetary system. That's when I acted. Knowing how to dance or not, my function changed to agile with my fingers, to professional dancer in seconds. For this, I had the few steps that Kendall taught me, and my vague skill in Just Dance, the rest fell to the fertile and dirty imaginati

she said as they sat back down on the chairs. “And who’s your type of guy?” Christopher asked curiously. He raised his eyebrows, awaiting an answer. “Well, I like...” “What are you guys doing here? Come on, let’s dance!” Daisy said, pulling them both back to the dance floor. They put on soft country music. Christopher put his hand on Palmer’s waist while the other hand took hers. They swayed, not taking their eyes off each other. Palmer put her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her while the music played, making them enjoy every second.

“That’s what you need to figure out.” That answer didn’t help at all. I leaned forward, resting my elbow on the table. “It still doesn’t explain why she made me the lead dancer , I don’t dance! I have never danced a silk veil or whatever in my entire life, What even is that ? .” Anastasia laughed suddenly, almost choking on her drink. “You don’t dance?” she repeated. “Lily, you walk like you already know rhythm exists.” “I don’t…it’s not funny ,” I said giggling

Giselle A new fucking life. When I landed in Chicago, I needed work that didn’t come with background checks or nosy questions. So here I am—waitress slash dancer at a club where real names are about as common as uNicholasrns. Perfect cover for someone who technically doesn’t exist anymore. It wasn’t exactly my childhood dream, but life’s funny that way. Music and dancing used to be my escape—contemporary dance where every movement told a story without needing words. Now I’m telling a different kind of story, and honestly? The audience seems pretty entertained.

I nod and head back to the changing rooms grabbing my things and head out the door when Dan stops me by standing in front of the door. "Dan I have to go home," I say trying to get past him but he doesn't budge "Dan!" I warned. Dan is a cool boss, he's not strict or anything and he treats the girls and me well, he also doesn't make us do stuff we don't want to do which is the bare minimum. But it's still nice knowing he cares even if he knows there's a risk "A man requested you for a private dance" Dan states and I sigh "What man?" I questioned "My dad will be home soon I can't let him see me dressed like this" I whine

The man paused briefly, then nodded and smiled, saying, “Yes, You’re right. My name is Cassian Blackwood.” I shook hands with him, “Hello, I’m Seraphina Vance. I accompanied my sister to study fine arts here for two years, but it’s been so long since I’ve painted.” I laughed at myself, “I’ve probably almost forgotten everything.” Cassian just held up a hand slightly, as if to say no.‌

I raised my brows, placing my empty glass down and clearing my throat. “Lia,” I answered. “What’s yours?” “They call me D.” “Well D,” I said placing extra emphasis on his... name. “Would you like to dance?” He shook his head, looking over the glass that I had finished. “I don’t dance,” he declared. “Besides, I’ve seen what happens to men that join you for a dance.” I rolled my eyes at him. “I’d rather much like to continue talking to you.” “Lia!”

She looks at us and I nod while shaking my head. “During the day no, it’s more dancing, burlesque and such. After eleven, that’s when all the clothes come off.” I wink at her and she grins. She purposely dances and taunts Marc, she knows what she is doing. “Move along, you’re stopping for too long, and you’re not meant to whore yourself out, no touching.” I turn to see a man standing there, his eyes fixed on Daisy dancing on Marc. His eyes slowly roam across her body. “You can’t linger, move through the tables, now.” His words are louder and I see Marc tense, Daisy pushing her hand against D as he goes to jump up.

Camillie and her father took to the dance floor. Abeni felt a knot forming in her stomach as she watched Dmitry from across the room. He was laughing and talking animatedly with another woman, and it was clear that there was more to their interaction than just friendly conversation. The woman was stunning, with long, curly hair and a figure that made Abeni feel self-conscious about her own curvy frame. As they danced together, Abeni couldn't help but wonder if Dmitry still found her beautiful or if he had already moved on.