Avoiding the double entendre

Oh my word, but it was sticky and steamy in our little hall last night. Despite the fact that we're dancing a cool, collected routine full of poise and disdain at the moment, the temperature rose steadily.

The current routine doesn't require a boa (thankfully), nor does it require gloves. A steel-boned corset is not an asset either as we swivel on the chair seat from one side to the other and then flop deliciously over an outstretched leg.

However, knickers are de rigueur. Which is why it was such a surprise when the Voluptuous Jules peeled hers off and marched them towards the front of the class before discarding them. Until then, her much-admired posterior had been clad in a cheeky little pair of knickers with a large cat's face on the back, complete with a pair of pink 3D ears standing proud.

"His little face was sticking to the seat," she explained airily.

You would be proud of us. Nobody went for the obvious "pussy" jokes. Mind you, many showgirls were too busy trying to breathe in their corset; untangle their fishnets from their corset fasteners; or re-assemble their shoes to have a spare breath for commentary.

We do love a wardrobe malfunction.

Yours, wrestling with our undies,

Burlicious x