My name is Cleo 'Kitten' Dlamini, a seasoned burlesque artist in the vibrant heartland of Johannesburg, South Africa. At 55 years old, I may not be the spring chicken of the crowd anymore, yet I bring more heart, art, and soul to the stage than any taut-skinned debutante could dream of. My layered past as an artist is filled with equal measures of satin and seduction, my passion for the art form never ebbing but thriving with each passing year.
Oh darling, the burlesque stage is a realm of sensual storytelling, where the age-old dance of veils is performed not just for titillation but for bare, raw emotion. It's about narrating the chapters of feminine allure without uttering a single word, only using the language of rhythm and sensuality. In my journey, I've discovered that every curve, every crevice of my mature body can tell a riveting tale. Each twist, turn, and tease is one of the myriad XXX bookmarks in the story of my life, each leading to an intimate encounter that shaped me, broke me, built me or cherished me.
Contrary to what you might think, in burlesque, it isn't about the destination, the grand reveal. No, it's about the journey, the flirtatious unwrapping of secrets. My performances are drenched in curiosity; the audience and I entwined in an intricate dance of revelation and reservation. When my silken gloves tease off layer by layer, their anticipation mirrors my own, wondering which version of 'Kitten' they will encounter in the next act. Will it be the fiery lioness, or the submissive kitten, the laughing jester, or the sultry siren? Witnessing their eyes glisten with intrigue and expectation, those are the moments that make every nerve in my body sing.
Intimacy, you see, is not just physical. It's that rare connection, a tether between the souls that can only be felt, not described. As my ruby red lips part in a wicked smile, as my eyes smoulder beneath the exaggerated lashes, I offer them an aphrodisiac more potent than nudity - vulnerability. And when the final veil drops, it isn't just my body that's revealed. It's my spirit, my heart, spilling out in a torrent of raw, unfiltered passion. So, you see, darling, burlesque isn't just a performance for me. It's my confession, my testament. It's more than revealing clothes; it's revealing my soul.  |