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November 2011
Eros, Come A-Knockin', On My Front Door
What they say about Brazilians is true
I learned it first hand when I met Miguel
It was a Thursday night.
I was scheduled to perform at the opening of the Indie Memphis film festival. A dance piece. An in-crowd and highly interactive dance piece that, by its nature, would demand that I open myself wide to the moment
I was coming off a week of dreary self-absorbed reclusion and wasn't quite feeling the whole performing thing. Or, for that matter, the whole leaving the house thing.
I knew it was a necessity, though. And thank God, 'cause that night, I met Miguel.
He was Brazilian. Confident. Hot.
And his game was a game I wanted to play
The Indie film fest was happening inside Playhouse on the Square, a theatre venue in midtown Memphis on the corner of Cooper and Union. I pulled up in the side parking lot, happy to find an open space, and checked my hair in the visor mirror
Tonight would be an opportunity to sell my goods $
As I approached the back door of the Playhouse, I positioned my earbuds, and entered, pressing play beneath my shirt
I would dance to the music inside my head, and, from the outside, they would hear nothing. They would only see what the music did to me.
I hid my flip-flops in a corner and began, moving into the crowd of festival attendees.
I leaped, I imp-ed, I smiled. I ached. The music grabbed hold and wove a story into my steps.
I unleashed my inner fool. My inner harlot. And I explored the boundaries of those around me. Begging for feedback. Calling them to play, to participate in a new world. My world
This night, there was no stage. There were no boundaries.
And I positioned myself to be free - -
Free to do and to be what I chose,
Free to behave as is unacceptable in most public spaces.
Free because I wore the sword and shield of art. And... because I was invited.
So, anything goes
And, anything went ~
At the end of it all, I felt strong. Cocky. Energetic. The performance was a success
I danced, I sang, I made people uncomfortable
And, at the end of it all, I needed more
More to see
More to experience
More to feed my stirred up desires
I remembered the outdoor video installation that was part of this year's festivities, and shifted gears for the journey to explore. As I passed the threshold of the Playhouse's back door and entered the brisk night air, I heard a voice say, "You leaving already?!"
I turned and saw a round face wearing a boxy pair of black-rimmed glasses. A bold accessory. Like Dior is an accessory.
"I'll be back," I replied, sensing the beginnings of an opportunity.
At least an interest
Little did I know that it was Eros come a-knockin' on my front door
And my back door, for that matter...
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To read the rest of this erotic short story, click here
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