MUSE
I was just putting on my jacket when he came in.
“You’re not leaving, are you?” he asked incredulously.
I smiled up at him. I should have felt shy but I looked him in the eye. He really was incredibly handsome. Andrew should have warned me.
“That’s how it works”, I said, trying to keep it light. “I fly in, fly out.”
“Come and have a drink with us,” he said.
There was nothing light about his look. His dark gaze had followed me from the moment I’d appeared, stirring a primal feeling deep within me.
But I laughed, and said, “It’s against the belly dancer’s code.”
Where was Andrew? He was meant to make sure nothing like this happened.
Then he smiled, and although it was beautiful, it was the pleading in his eyes that weakened me.
“Just one drink,” he coaxed.
Somehow I had to get the power back here.
“Okay”, I said, and looked at him challengingly, “but then you have to dance for me.”
He didn’t laugh, but looked at me seriously and said, “Deal.”
I hadn’t done many private gigs, but after 4 years of lessons and small performances, I started hinting to my friends. I was happy to do it just for the experience. Besides, if I didn’t ask for money, their expectations wouldn’t be too high. (Bad business sense, I know.)
Andrew and I knew each other from work and had always got along well. So when he’d asked if I would dance for his friend’s birthday, I trusted that he’d keep things under control and that it would be another notch – or was that coin? – in my belt.
I was to be a kind of party starter at his house before they went out. His friend had recently broken up with his fiancée and needed cheering up. I could do that. This was why I loved belly dancing – it made people happy.
I planned my set according to the standard pattern: come in with veil and do a melodic, lively piece; move into a more sensuous number; finish with a drum solo.
I chose one of my sexier costumes – shiny golden fabric sewn with sequins and beaded tassles. I was a curvy girl and my breasts were pushed up and looked like they could spill out at any moment. The chiffon skirt hung low on my hips and was split high on both sides. I dusted myself with glittery powder and left my long hair loose and tousled. It constantly moved to reveal and conceal as I danced. A few gold bangles, long earrings, sparkling anklets, and a necklace with a jewel that hung between my breasts completed the look.
My hands were a little shaky as I let myself in through the laundry. Some people from work would be here, and it can be harder to create a fantasy for people who already know you. There was a buzz but the mood didn’t seem too crazy – a good time to come.
I heard Andrew gather his friends and announce he had a surprise. They cheered enthusiastically which gave me the kick I needed.
The intro music blared suddenly. I moved down the passage into position, gave my hair a final shake, and swept into the light.
Part of the skill of these sorts of performances is getting oriented while putting on a big smile and acting like you know exactly what you’re doing. The lights were dim like I’d requested, but there were more people than I’d expected and I felt their closeness. They were standing, and already clapping and whooping. The music took over. It was going to be okay.
Then I saw him. I couldn’t really miss him, as I’d suggested they seat the birthday boy in the centre. As my eyes swept the audience and tried to make everyone feel part of the show, there he was – not clapping, not whooping, but staring intently, eating me up with his eyes. And such eyes!
But instead of being intimidated I felt a sudden wish to live up to whatever it was he saw in me, to make him burn with desire.
It was foolish.
I’d never felt so alive.
The music changed and the second, slow piece began. During the first number I’d managed to include everyone in my gaze and glance flirtatiously at different people. I’d marched around and got them clapping in time with the music and swished my skirt at them and demanded their attention. I felt so light, like every move was happening perfectly.
But the second number was for him alone. I picked up the veil and moved slowly toward him, my hips swaying. His eyes were shining like a delighted little boy’s, but there was nothing childish in what they were saying. In time with the music I wound the veil around him and gently tied it at the back. His friends all cheered with anticipation.
Then I stood with my back to him. The slow drums began and a being took over my body that made me dance more beautifully and sensuously than I ever had before, even in my most abandoned moments. My arms crossed gently above my head and my hips moved to the beat, up and down, inward circles, around and around. It was almost like I was outside myself, looking on in amazement at what I could do. At that moment I was a queen and he was a prisoner at my mercy.
I turned around and our eyes locked. The power of his stare weakened me for a moment then the beauty of the music took me over and I smiled as I span around. I was aware of every part of my body. My hands floated and my silky hair brushed against my skin and made me shiver. My breasts felt swollen, my nipples exquisitely sensitive against the fabric. My limbs were loose, and between my legs was wet, so wet.
There is no denying that bellydancing as we know it today is very sensual. I often got turned on when I danced. You couldn’t help it when you felt your body move in such a beautiful way, the pelvis gently caressed as the muscles rolled. But this was something else. I was going to explode if the spell wasn’t broken soon.
As the music was finishing I stood side on to him, lifted my hair and slowly rippled my body from the chest down. At the final note I turned away and sank to the floor.
Images, unbidden, played through my mind: lifting my skirt and straddling him; taking off my bra and pressing my aching breasts against his chest; kissing him passionately as I reached around to untie him, then his hands and his lips everywhere that his eyes had been on my burning skin, and finally him guiding my hips as he slid inside of me, our bodies moving together…
The last piece started and I jumped up with a cry.
I stood up and laughed, “Untie him!”
Then I shimmied and popped my way through the drum solo, shaking off the tension and taking control of myself again. The art of a good drum solo depends on many things and I don’t feel I’ve mastered it yet. But I gave it all I had left that night and ended with a long shimmy, encouraging the audience to keep cheering as I vibrated up through my body, circling my hips and chest, and undulating, until the last beat, when I posed right on time. My huge smile was as much in relief as anything else. I held the pose, then curtsied, called out, “Happy birthday!” and blew him a kiss, before skipping out of the room.
They were still clapping and I heard them congratulating him on ‘scoring’. I leaned against the wall, my heart pounding. What had happened in there? I had to get out of here!
To maintain the mystery, a dancer should ‘disappear’ after an act. I could catch up with Andrew later. I headed to the room where I’d left my bag, taking off my heavy earrings as I went. I was sweating and my heart was still racing, but outside it would be cold, so I put on my shoes and picked up my jacket. I was longing to just get in the car and catch my breath. But it was too late. There was a knock and someone came through the door. It was him.
So I stayed. He led me back into the lounge room and everyone cheered. I sat in an armchair, pulling my jacket around me and curling up my legs. My part in the show was over.
“What would you like?” he asked.
“A cider?” I said.
“Of course,” he said.
I took a deep breath as he walked away. Andrew came over.
“That was great!” he said, “I’ll never be able to look at you the same way again!”
“Haha, it will all be back to normal on Monday.”
Had people been able to tell what was going on?
“Well it looks like you managed to take Nik’s mind off his troubles, anyway. I’ll leave you to it!”
Nik handed me my drink and sat on the arm of the chair.
“I should introduce myself, I’m Nik”. He had a slight accent. Hungarian? That would explain those gypsy eyes.
“Yes, Andrew told me. I’m Amelia.”
He loomed over me and his powerful presence, so close, now did make me feel shy. The smell of him, a mix of a classy aftershave and earthy male, was heady. Did he know what effect he had on me?
He was relaxed and confident.
“That was incredible dancing, Amelia. The best birthday present I’ve ever had. Thank you.”
I laughed a bit nervously and said, “It was fun. I … I hope I didn’t take it too far.” He smiled slowly and a thrill went through me.
“Not at all. Where I come from we love women to show such passion.”
“Oh, where’s that?”
“Russia. I came here when I was fourteen years old.”
Russian. That made sense. I hadn’t met many Russian men, but those I had had looked at me like hungry wolves.
Time to change the focus. “So, do Russian men like to dance? I’m waiting for my show!”
He laughed then, and got up. “Okay boys, time to repay the lady!”
I don’t know whether it was the alcohol or the mix of cultures in the group, but I’d never seen men move spontaneously like that before. They turned the music up and did a Bollywood style dance, and I was so glad I stayed!
In the end I shed my jacket and did get up and dance with them, weaving my way around and finally facing Nik. He put his hands on my hips; they felt strong and warm and I wished he would run them all over my body. Someone bumped into me and pushed me against him, and I felt his hardness. Again, my mind painted a vivid picture and I saw myself kneeling before him and worshipping him with my mouth. I blushed hotly, and when I dared to look at him I felt like he knew exactly what I was thinking.
“I hate to break up the mood, guys, but we do have a reservation and I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m hungry!” Andrew announced. A cheer.
“Come with us,” said Nik, looking at me intently.
“No, no, I’m exhausted! Plus I’m still in my costume.”
“That’s fine,” he said, with a look that told me exactly how fine it was.
“No, you go with your friends. It’s a boy’s night. I need to go home.” As if on cue, I gave a big yawn.
“Haha, okay. You’ve worked hard.” A pause. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
We were silent as we went to get my things and stepped outside. The tension between us was like a living thing.
The streetlights must have been broken as it was very dark. I unlocked the car and turned to say goodbye.
“Can I have your number?’ he asked, almost shyly.
He got out his phone and typed it in, then we looked at each other for what seemed like an age, not wanting to part.
“I can’t touch you or I won’t be able to stop,” he said softly.
I whispered back, “Why is that a problem?”
Then he was on me, crushing me against the car and kissing me hard, while his hands slid up my thighs and pulled my panties to the ground, and I shivered in delight as his fingers caressed me until I was slippery and throbbing. Any minute now his friends could come out, and I frantically undid his pants and released him.
He reached inside his jacket and asked is a slightly rueful voice, “Smooth or ribbed?”
“Ribbed,” I said breathlessly.
Then he lifted me up against the car and I let out a long moan as he plunged into me. I had made the right choice. He had to put his hand over my mouth to stifle my cries as each thrust took me higher and higher. My head thrashed back and forth and I clutched his buttocks to push him deep inside me. I couldn’t get enough of him. No man had ever made me this crazy before.
We came together and then he couldn’t stop from crying out. He shuddered and collapsed against me, breathing hard. I gasped as each spasm of after shock sent a wave of pleasure through me.
Slowly he softened and slid out of me.
I put my arms around his neck and said laughingly, “I think I just broke every rule in the belly dancer’s book!”
He laughed too and replied, “And why is that a problem?”
Somehow I made it home, driving in a daze. I showered and fell into bed.
I woke up a few hours later as a message lit up my phone.
Can you recommend a good place for dessert?
I smiled in anticipation as I texted my address, then I added,
The strawberries and cream are to die for.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/3y2qll/muse_a_bellydancers_fantasy_mf_xpost