My stage is different but like them, I'm called by a number, my phone number. No, they dance for survival, facing the horror of what they must do to ...urvive. Me, I dance because I want on the stage. That's who I am, a dancing whore on the meat market stage.Convincing myself I was just a sex object, my esteem plummeted to my late teenage years. At least then I had innocence. My esteem reached its nadir.William’s love is right; I’m a bitch whore, used for screwing then dumped. No man loves me,. I noticed her leaving it there as she finished and I smiled at you knowing this was the start of a fun few days. I saw her whisper in your ear and then as her hand slid slowly up your skirt her other hand slid in between your blouse buttons and we all watched as she pinched your nipple you jumped but soon relaxed as her hand found what it was looking for your sweet smooth pussy.She was now nuzzling your neck as her hand slowly unbuttoned your top letting all see your big firm breasts swinging. More

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