The girl is a living flame. Fiery curls fly around her as she dances, so wild yet fluid in her movements, so eye-catching. And that dress, that fucking red dress. So tight around her chest but loose around her hips, flaring every time she spins to the music, riding higher and higher on her thighs with every twirl, the sight of creamy, freckled flesh sending a jolt of heat to my groin. She tips her head towards the ceiling, lips parted, cheeks flushed, chest heaving as she breathes heavily.
