English Version: Sands & Sparrow

22

The music began, and Aveline walked gracefully toward the spotlight. Each stride of her footsteps imitated a slinking panther, ready to seduce the prey. Aveline moved like water transformed by music; her graceful arcs and limbs were in constant motion as if she were painting an erotic picture in front of her guest. She was accompanied by the symphony that released a sensual pleasure. She sashayed her sexy catwalk; her red stilettos were showing the sexiness of her legs. Aveline's curves were all in the right places. The percussions of the piano from the tune rendered her hips swaying in a sensual motion.

Aveline provocatively placed her hand on the pole; she moved in circles while holding it and sensually brushing her hip on a metallic shaft. The client blew the cigarette with ashes falling off the floor, and a pair of eyes roamed Aveline's body.

Wearing a black lacy bra, the size of her breasts were slightly above average, more like a C cup. She had a long, smooth thigh that conformed to her tanned complexion. Black silk covered her feminity, inducing the senses and conveying a sheer skill of seduction. Her behind was exposed, and her torso was toned. At the height of 5′5, her body was appealing. No wonder, at her age, physical beauty was consistent with provocative charm.

The way she grabbed the pole was enthralling to behold; the intensity oozed her passion for pole dancing. She stood in front of the client, stretched her hand upward while holding the pole from behind, and gently moved down her body. Like a snake that slithered on a tree, her hands caressed the pole, and then she squatted, her breasts slightly bounced from her bra.

The room was illuminated by an invisible fire, with warmth spreading to every part of their bodies. This was not a fleeting flame but a steadily intensifying blaze that was impossible to ignore. The client felt a burning thirst, too intense to bear. Pressing the cool rim of a glass to the lips, a single drop of wine followed its path into the mouth, offering relief from the thirst Aveline had provoked.

Dim lights cast an enchanting glow while dancing spotlights pierced the darkness, their sparkling lights caressing the body of the blindfolded stripper.

A steamy moan from the song merged with a thousand whispers filling the room. The music, enriched with the strings of a violin, seemed to speak a language only the body could interpret. Then, as the moving lights enveloped the room like a dance of tiny stars against the walls, Aveline became the center of the universe on stage. Her sensuality exploded into a vibrant display of beautiful madness. She surrendered to the music, which in turn seized control, transporting her to a different world and triggering a flood of memories.

"That's not the right way to knead the dough," Margo observed the hands that were vigorously squeezing the flour mixture.

"Is there a proper way to make bread? I mean, don't you just squeeze it? Or mold it?" Aveline's brow furrowed in confusion. Her hair was tied in a messy bun, and she wore a white cotton dress covered by a blue apron.

"You should be gentle, not forceful," Margo suggested, leaning on the counter while Aveline busied herself mixing ingredients like flour, sugar, and water.

"Is that so? But isn't the most important rule to bake the bread, not just knead the dough?" Aveline countered, with specks of flour dotting her face.

"I'll teach you." Margo volunteered and approached behind her. She thought that Margo would teach the proper way by guiding her hands, but she hugged her from behind and started caressing Aveline's breast. Margo's warm breath sent shivers down her neck; she went burning like a matchstick that went ablaze. "W-what are you doing?" Aveline got confused.

"Teaching you," Margo replied casually.

"B-but you're massaging the different parts." She protested while Margo began pressing the breasts, making them look like a dough.