Dark Awakenings: Volume 2 of the Little Girl Lost Trilogy. Cindy Hanna
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grin on Trish’s face. She flaunts her own style with the pole. Using every bit of her five-inch stilettos to her advantage, she pushes her chest out and ruffles her hair as if her very existence depends on it. And perhaps it does. I’m sensing that about her. Her need to one-up.
Molly, having gone rigid, is attempting her own rendition. It doesn’t come close. Instead, she resembles a fish writhing out of water, gasping its last breath of air. But I must admit, I’m impressed that she took it upon herself to attempt this one without any additional promptings from Pam or me. Maybe there’s hope….
Carol soon masters this move, allowing her ample chest to take center stage and lead her through. She even takes it a step farther by cupping each of her breasts and sighs as she pushes them together. Well, who knew?
Alicia mimics Carol’s moves, and then improvises some of her own. After shaking her own chest, she playfully glides the middle finger of one hand along her outer thigh upward while holding onto and circling the pole. She caresses her hips, the lengths of her sides and then her breasts, tracing little circles around each nipple. I don’t miss her suggestive moves. The others do, absorbed in their own dances. Not me. I catch her slight intake of air and the manner in which she rolls her head back, lost in pleasure. Sensed there was naughtiness in her. I’ll bet we have a lot in common…. For someone so tight-lipped about why she’s here, she’s certainly expressive with the pole.
Pam, attempting her own interpretation of the moves, pauses every now and again to circle her pole, holding on with first one and then the other hand, eyeing it as if it’s a piece of raw meat and she a hungry lioness. Her spirit is contagious. I see several of the other women looking at her as she tousles her hair and uses her chest to entice.
Pam’s got a great nurturing personality that shines through in her moves. Funny how pole dancing does that. It takes what’s buried within you—your essence—and brings it to the surface. Already I’m detecting things about each woman that they thought they could keep concealed from me. They don’t know. Can’t see it. Their self-expressive dance—their comfort level, or awkwardness, reveals parts of themselves they thought were hidden. They’ll learn. We all will.
Since we’re on a roll, with several of the ladies already inventing some of their own creative moves, think I’ll make this last step a deal breaker. It’ll be the one that shows me what each of my students is all about. What they’re willing to reveal. What they intend to keep hidden. And how much work I have to do with each.
I position myself with my back against the pole, grabbing it with one hand near the small of my back. With my legs stationary, I playfully twist my upper body to look at my students from over my shoulder. I use my most sultry voice and say, “Okay, ladies, let’s bring it home with this last move.” I rotate, look over my other shoulder and, winking, add, “Really make it count.”
Turning slowly, I face the pole and, as if greeting it, bow deeply at the waist. I grab the pole with one hand down by my knees, and rest my other hand on my rear, which is turned up high in the air. Continuing downward, I slide my hand effortlessly from my rear down the length of my straight leg, tracing each defined muscle. When my hand reaches my ankle, I reverse the movement of my fingers and, reaching farther behind me, trace up and down the back of my legs as if feeling along the exposed seam of a pair of stockings. Deciding it’s time to finish, I begin rising—slow and graceful, letting my hand explore my thighs, breasts and finally the side of my face.
I notice that Trish and Pam are already duplicating my moves, while throwing in a few of their own for good measure. Alicia’s enjoying the seductiveness of these moves and, if possible, is making them even more so. Carol’s struggling to maintain perfect form and have fun while doing so. And Molly…she’s actually embracing this move. Strange. I would have thought it would have thrown her. Perhaps she’s softening. Becoming less inhibited. Feeling more comfortable. Good for her.
I smile at the women, tell them they’ve done a great job and lead them through a series of cool-down exercises. In closing, I say, “Be sure to practice what we covered today in front of a mirror, if possible. And if you’re feeling bold, you may want to try some of the moves in your heels so you can get used to them.”
I dismiss my students and, as each puts her shoes back on, say that I look forward to the following week when I’ll really heat things up. Most look intrigued. Trish looks indifferent and Molly, as expected, looks frightened. Hope she’ll be back. There’s so much potential with her….
Feeling Sexy
No sooner does the door close behind my last student than I rush to the phone. Excitement nearly chokes me as I wait for Angel to pick up.
“Hello?”
“Just finished my first class!”
“Tell me everything!”
“They’re the most hopeless gathering of misfits imaginable.”
I fill Angel in on each student’s oddities. How their personalities either clashed or meshed. “Once we began dancing, their true personalities came out. You know, all the things they thought they could keep concealed.”
Later at the mall, Angel and I enjoy touring through our favorite shops, picking up items here and there. Some we need. Others are impulse buys. Nice to be able to do this. Thinking back to our time spent hooking, I ask, “Remember how Ax owned us?”
“How could I forget?” Angel says, visibly shivering. “He treated us like animals. Took our money. Freedom. Youth. Your son.”
I nearly spit out, “Bastard! Glad that part of our lives is past.”
We stroll the mall for a bit and then stop for a treat—one of those huge cinnamon buns, drizzled with a sugary glaze and mounds of candy-coated pecans. Mmmm…. The minute we get in line, my mouth begins watering. Just a few more people….
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