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Dad helped us into the car, then at thehall, we walked in together, mom on one side, me on the other. Everyonewas in costume of course, from spacemen to cowboys to dance hall girlsand more. An usher led us to our table, then about half an hour afterdinner, the music started. Mom and dad were dancing, leaving me alone atthe table, which I didn't mind. I was happy enough just watching. Then aguy wearing a navy blue jacket that had a Nehru type collar and coveredwith gold braid, walked up and..."Good evening. My name is Brixton, but everyone calls me Brix. I dobelieve this is our dance. Would you do me the honor of joining me?" I...I...I'm not a very good dancer Brix, maybe I should..." Nonsense! Please, may I?"He took my hand, and the next thing I knew, we were dancing! I was verynervous about dancing with him, but he was very good, and within a fewminutes, I got the hang of it. The music changed to a waltz, which manypeople opted out of, but Brix merely held me tighter!"You forgot to. ”I took her hand. “Hey, be a good pussy now.”“You asshole,” she said, stomping her feet as she followed me.“Lead the way, pussy,” I ordered her.She laughed and pulled away from me and then led me up the stairs.It was a typical teenage girl’s room. Stupid posters of stupid heartthrobs, lots of goddamn pink, an old teddy bear or two from her childhood, frilly, flowery pillow covers. And here I was dressed in black, in my black leather jacket, the villain invading the cop’s daughter’s room. I chuckled at that.She spun around to look at me, her beautiful baby soft legs twisted, as she played with the waistband of her boy shorts, eyeing me with a mischievous look.“I like that,” I said.She rolled her hips around and danced for me.I pulled my jacket off and dropped it on a chair over one of the teddy bears. I had a thin black T shirt on. I knew she, just like her sister, liked the tattoos running down my muscular forearm.She took off her tank top and swung it in the air while she danced so.
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