“Alright,” you murmur, sitting back in your chair. “Then let’s see what you got.” Natalie nods as she stands and moves her chair to the side of the room. She pauses only to glance around the room, assessing the amount of space she has, before moving to the very center and turns away from you. She begins her performance by raising her left hand and her right foot. Your heart quickens when you notice that the movement drags up her skirt up her thighs, almost letting you see her panties.
She holds the position for a moment, glancing back at you over her shoulder before she starts moving. Her dance is actually really good, showing off her grace, beauty, and skills, but in the end it was simply ballet. No one came to your clubs to appreciate the arts, and you didn’t know anyone who would watch ballet unless the girls were topless or something. You watch as her skirt twirls higher and higher as she spins in place and you get an idea.
“Natalie, stop,” you say, standing up. Obediently she stops, staring at you, confused. “You’re doing fine,” you add, “but let’s try something different, alright?”
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