A Collection Of Thomas Shelby Imagines

Burlesque

The black curtain lifted, you were breathing in and out, preparing yourself for what you were about to do. You'd done it a thousand times before but of course, sometimes it still got to you.

The saxophonist began playing a raunchy tune as the curtains revealed a dark room, the spotlight focused on you. Holding your fur scarf closer to you, you slowly turned to face the audience as the music played. You hid your face behind the thickest part of the scarf, aiming to appear as if you are shy — batting your eyelashes for effect for those who were seated in the front row. You turn to your right and flash a quick smile before taking slow steps forward, showing off the dress worn beneath the coat.

Your hips sway, allowing the dress to sway with you, enhancing your curves and glittering with every step. It showed off your legs at the front but fell down to the floor in a v-shape at the back. You wore long black gloves and heels that had material to let you lace them up however you wished, your toes exposed to the heat in the room tonight.

You knew he was out there, you could feel his eyes burning into you as you ran your tongue over your teeth, your lips stained a bright red colour, his favourite. Your hair was curled to perfection, sprayed down out of your face for the dance ahead.

You ran your gloved hand down your leg, accentuating the skin on show — that was usually frowned upon.

You sauntered forward some more, and spun with the scarf, toying with it a little.

Leaning down, you opened your legs, showing off the corset worn underneath the dress, that now looked as if it were only a long shawl. Then, you bring yourself back up and shimmy with the scarf, twirling and dancing with it to tease the audience. You could practically feel his sexual frustration from here. You knew what you were doing to him, even when you couldn't see him. Everything you did, every dance you performed, you imagined him, watching, drinking in everything that your body did, every temptation you offered was the biggest sin of them all and you wanted him to know it was only for him. You had been looking for him in the crowd, you knew he was there. Pulling off the gloves, you noticed a gleam in the audience and you knew instantly it had to be his peaked cap, glistening and gaining your attention on purpose.

You threw down the fur scarf and walked over to the band playing behind you. You face them and looked over your shoulder to face the audience, hands on your hips and a gleaming smile, now zoned in on where you felt the strongest to where he may be.

Knowing he was there, you thought you'd tease him a little more, smiling, you shook your hips continuously as you slowly hitched up the hem of your dress and just as it revealed your bum you dropped the dress back down and spun on your heels so that you could strut towards the audience once again.

You sauntered over to where he was in the crowd, you made eye contact with him and blew a velvet red kiss to him, to which he smirked, enjoying the show.

Throwing an arm across your forehead as if you were flustered, you spun away, one hand fiddling with the clasp that was holding your dress together. As you were spinning, you would make sure your head focused back on him, so that he knew that you were doing this for him. Every dirty little gesture, every sensual move; the raunchy dress was for him.

Finally, your dress fell open, revealing the corset you wore beneath it. It was minimal, the way he liked it.

You spun, you arms held behind you, allowing the dress to spin with you, showing all of the corset, before you stopped, the momentum of the spin keeping the dress going and curling around your body, covering your cleavage; your arms now linked together above your head before throwing them down to your sides and swaying your hips the opposite to the way you were swaying before, letting the dress unravel from your body, your head tilted upwards, your tongue rolling over your teeth, your neck elongated and your eyes focused on him.