G-Men: The Series Read Online Free

looking for me.
    “Glad I caught you, Sam,” she said. “We need one more person to sign up for pole-dancing lessons. The instructor has a minimum registration number in order to meet what she charges. I figured you’d be perfect.”
    “Pole-dancing? Me?”
    “Why not you? You’re pretty damn limber and it’s a hell of a way to build up your biceps and triceps that you’re always whining about, sweetie.”
    “I know, but Vonda, come on. Don’t you think I’m a little bit old for that type of --?”
    “I think the word you’re looking for is exercise , Sam. Good grief, it’s not stripping. It’s a great dance art form, and to answer your question, no. I’m on the roster. Do you think I’m too old?”
    Vonda had me there. At fifty-six-years-old, there wasn’t too much that Vonda couldn’t do. Maybe it wasn’t out of the question. After all, I’d taken three years of ballet under the tutelage of Madame LeBlanc when I was in grade school. She had told me I had natural grace. I had taken it to appease my mother, who insisted on lessons of some sort during my formative years.
    “Okay Vonda, I’m in. When does it start?”
    Vonda was tickled pink that we had enough members signed up to bring in who she claimed was the ‘queen of pole-dancing.’ The instructor’s name was Ginger Cooper and she’d actually won a third place trophy in the Midwest Pole Dancing Competition the year before.
    The lessons started the following week and were daily for the following three weeks. I had no clue that pole dancing was recognized globally as a competitive sport and art form. I’d always regarded it as being a second cousin to stripping. Boy, had I been misguided.
    Ginger was extremely talented and driven. She expected no less from her students. She was brutal in her training and assessments.
    After the third day of lessons, I told Vonda I was contemplating dropping out. I could barely move a muscle. It had certainly burst my “I’m in great shape” bubble. My God, I hadn’t known the muscles that were now feeling a slow, burning pain even existed.
    “No, you’re not,” Vonda stated, in her authoritative tone. “If I can hang with it, you sure as hell can, Sammie. Besides, you’re doing great.”
    “How do you figure, Vonda? You heard Ginger today telling me to get the lead out of my gluteus maximus while she was instructing us on the snowflake or pretzel, or whatever the hell she called it.”
    “She’s tough, I know, but really Sammie, you’re doing great. Hey, I bet your husband would love a pole dance demo once you finish this class.”
    “Yeah, right,” I said, getting clothes out of my locker. “He hasn’t even noticed my new svelte body,” I replied, rolling my eyes.
    “What’s his problem?”
    “I guess he doesn’t find me attractive anymore, maybe he never did,” I replied with a shrug.
    “Humph,” Vonda said, shaking her head. “You’re gorgeous. You do realize that, right? I hope to God you don’t see yourself through his clueless eyes, Sammie.”
    “You’re required to say stuff like that to paying members, right Vonda?”
    “You’re so full of shit, girlie,” she replied, still shaking her head. “I hope to Christ you wake up and smell the coffee one of these days. That’s all the pep talk you’re getting from me today. I’ll see your getting-tighter ass in here tomorrow for our lesson.”
    I started to say I wouldn’t be coming, but then I thought about it. Maybe Vonda was right; maybe I did have potential. Maybe I would give Jack a demo when classes finished. Maybe he’d even want to touch me again.
    I stopped by Becky’s on my way home. I hadn’t talked to her in the last couple of weeks. She knew I was totally wrapped up in my “exercise” classes as she called them. She was simply relieved that I was finally doing something just for me.
    “Holy shit,” she said, her eyes widening as she held the door open for me. “You’ve lost a ton of weight, Sam. You