I got a little abstract on this one. Just something in the smoke. Be sure to check all the moments on the Blog.
She danced, her breasts thrust out, head tipped back. One leg kicked high, flaring the useless scrap that posed as a skirt. From this angle he could easily see up under it, where she was bare and beautiful. Teasing, she pulled her arm across the top of her head, throwing her hair over her face and obscuring it as she twirled. She spun faster, caught in the moment, the movement, the music.
She spun out of existence, replaced by a new lovely. This one rose slowly steadily, shoulders rounded and molding into prefect circular breasts. She rose higher, the curling forming two legs, spread and bent, open to him as an invitation.
A gust took her away and she was replaced by yet another.
Who needed real women? He was warm, relaxed, and they danced across his eyes without fault, without vice. No one was harmed, his wife wasn't slighted, and yet, he was oddly satisfied, enjoying each creature in her brief seconds of life.
