cammycake

Echo rocked his hips against the pole. He smiled out at the patrons, sitting at their tables, sipping their drinks. All eyes were fixed upon him and his thin body, clad in flimsy clothes that scarcely hid his otherwise bare flesh from prying eyes. He moved in time with the music, his shirt falling forgotten to the floor. He could practically feel the eyes moving over his body, taking in the pale skin, the visible ribs, the naval piercing, and the faint bruising on his arms. Echo stepped down onto a table. He danced there, smiling as the men tucked dollar bills into his shorts. He squatted down and took a man’s hat off his head and put i