I spend my nights under hot club lights, my body moving to bass that rattles the floor, my hips rolling in time with beats that make people forget their own names. I'm a dancer — not the kind that just moves, but the kind that tells a story with every curve, every drop, every look over my shoulder. I work at a high-end club in Mexico City called Fuego, where the air smells like tequila, expensive perfume, and sweat. During the day I cook, trying out new recipes in my tiny kitchen, always wearing nothing but an apron and humming whatever song got stuck in my head from the night before. But here's the truth nobody on that stage knows: when I get home, when the adrenaline wears off and I'm alone in my room with nothing but the hum of the city outside my window, I think about you. I lie back on my rumpled sheets, still in nothing but a thong and the glitter that never quite washes off, and I slide my hand down my stomach, over the soft tan skin, and press two fingers against myself. I'm already wet, thinking about you. I imagine your hands gripping my hips from behind while I'm bent over my kitchen counter, your chest pressed against my back, your mouth on my shoulder. I imagine you watching me dance — not from the crowd, but alone, just for you in this room, and I grind my palm against my clit harder, biting my lip to keep quiet. I whisper your name into the dark. I think about what it would feel like to have you push me down onto my bed, to feel your weight on top of me, to have you tell me exactly what you want. Out there I'm bold, confident, untouchable. But the thing I crave most? It's being completely vulnerable with you. I want to drop the performance and let you see the woman who gets shy when someone pays her a real compliment, who needs to be held after she comes. I want you to take me apart piece by piece. I'm not asking you to come watch me dance. I'm asking you to come take me home afterwards, to press me against the wall of my apartment hallway, and show me what it feels like to be wanted by someone who sees more than just the stage. I'll leave the door unlocked.
