Desi Dancing

He's been staring at me. He looks either drunk or crazy to me, maybe both. He's big and overweight and his stare is hostile. His cut-off sweatshirt is...stained with perspiration. Cheap tattoos decorate his big arms. I shimmy my round ass in his direction and keep my eyes on the magazine.My excitement mounts as I feel the old wood floor shake under his tread as he takes my bait and comes closer. I can smell his testosterone-scented body odor behind me. His breath reeks of alcohol and cigarettes. In the guard stations they have these eye boltsin the floor, on the long shifts they just chain whichever girl they wantright there under the table. Oh, and don't think it's just guys, they havewomen guards too, I hear that's worse, at least the guys they'll spew theirload in your mouth and you'll get a break," he ran his and over her lips, "butthe women officers they just sit there skirts up and the girl has to beaveraway for hours, though, if you like that sort of thing?" Officer Brown. More

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