Cabaret

Lara Craft steps into the spotlight and the bar freezes. One look at her body and every drink stays untouched. She owns the stage without asking, hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles while her dress slips lower with each turn. The fabric clings to heavy breasts before she lets it fall, baring them completely. Her hands cup the full weight, thumbs circling stiff nipples as a low sound escapes her throat. The brunette continues, fingers sliding down her stomach, parting her thighs so the audience sees every inch of her glistening sex. She moves closer, knees bending, skirt hiked high. Her legs open wider. One hand dips between them, rubbing slow circles over swollen lips before two fingers sink inside. The wet sound fills the room. She pumps steadily, free hand squeezing her breast again, breath turning ragged. Her hips buck forward, meeting each thrust of her own fingers. She never looks away, gaze locked on anyone who dares stare back, daring them to move. By the time her body shakes through release, the room has forgotten how to breathe.