“Oh, actually I don’t dance much.” “Why is that, Cecil?” “I’m really not very good.” “With your lithe young body you have to be b...tter than me,” I chuckled. “Well if you really want to,” she said, grabbing me by the hand and leading me to the ballroom, putting her drink on a waiter’s tray as we moved along. The music was loud, the dance floor fairly crowded, and she really wasn’t a very good dancer, but I was thoroughly enjoying myself. After three or four dances she pulled my head down to. He put me down and I looked him up and down, he looked exactly the same as last time I saw him, light caramel skin, big brown doe eyes, a sculpted body with a tattoo of a lion rearing up on his stomach and his hair in the same style it always had been, shoulder length I guessed, pulled back into a ponytail with the shaved underside showing. And of course a bright white smile that could knock any girl off her feet. Not me though, never me. He looked at me too, he took in my pale creamy skin yet. More

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