2 comments/ 24574 views/ 0 favorites Belly By: lustybard Play with me a little while you are moving to straddle me, to bring your body above mine. As soon as your hand is around me, I will start raising my hips, trying to fuck your curled fingers. You smirk, and keep your hand open enough that I can't really get going. Let go of me as you climb over my thighs. I'll moan a little in frustration, but when I open my eyes again and see that you have taken the bottle of oil from the night stand, I'll wait, quiet and eager. My eyes won't miss a drop, won't miss an inch of your sweet, wondrous body. Take some oil in your palm, warming it there, and slide that hand down your body. The waning rays of the sun catch the slick trail you are making from your breasts down the joyous curve of your stomach; inch by inch, make your body glisten for me. Wipe your hand down my own chest until you reach my cock, and give it any leftovers. I know what is coming, so I won't move yet. Now come down on top of me and kiss me. Kiss me hard, lover; kiss me until our teeth clack together and we can't breathe. Squirm on top of me, slippery from the oil. Let my hands move across your body once, but then move them down to the mattress. Look into my eyes and smile at the lust you see there. Wriggle against my cock and say, "I know what you want." You know how I'll moan in reply. Then move down a bit, until your knees are about even with mine, and push up on your forearms so you are over me. Wriggle one last time until my cock is in place, the length of it against your belly. If you want to, slide up and down it once that way, teasing me. I won't move until you say, so look down at me breathing hard and say it. Tell me I can. As soon as you say so, my hips will start moving. God, lover, the feeling of your skin against me, the warmth, the slippery curve of you, way the shadows deepen down our bodies until I can't really see what I'm doing to you. But I can feel it, god, so crazy for the feeling of your belly sliding along my cock, surrounding it. Like doing it any other way, I try to start out with slow long strokes, savoring the feeling. I reach up and fondle your breasts, maybe even sit up enough to kiss you again for a moment. But as the excitement overtakes me, I fall back on the mattress and my hands grab both edges, forcing my body up harder and faster as I slide against you again and again. God, how I love your stomach. How crazy it makes me. The head of my cock keeps popping past your navel, and every time it rubs against there I need your body more against me, more around me. Of course, all this time you aren't silent. You keep encouraging me further, moaning in sympathetic ecstasy, moving your body just enough against mine to drive me wilder and closer. And I am responding to you. Oh yes, lover. God, it feels so fucking good. Oh, christ ... I'm desperately trying to hold my orgasm back. I can never get enough of doing this with you. But your body is so lithe and so full against mine, so slick and so good ... I can barely gasp out, "Going to -- come --" before I feel it rushing up my cock. God, the fire in your eyes when you hear that, when I start moving frantically faster, when my eyes squeeze shut and I spurt up, between us, against your breasts, in my chest hair, in between making our slick bodies even slicker -- once, twice, three times before I finally collapse and you fall down above me, your sides heaving almost as hard as my own. We kiss ... And between us, as it begins to dwindle, you can feel the last few drops being pumped from me and spreading between both our bodies, bonding us together, making it certain that when you finally rise long glistening strands will stretch between us, stretch between my cock and your stomach as a confession of just what that delicious, delightful curve does -- has done -- to me. God lover, I want your belly. Belly Colours and magic and Eastern music. We're in a gymnasium, sitting in the front row. I'm to your right. To your left is someone else, a stranger. We've come here on a Tuesday afternoon because there's a belly dancing competition. I didn't want to go, but you convinced me. I was amazed at your enthusiasm; I didn't know you liked belly dancing. As we sit and wait for the first performance to start, you tell me about how, when you were younger, your friend invited you to her competition and you fell in love with the dance. It's erotic, you say. And sensual, you say. And, you say, the women are like the ones you like. Before I can ask what that means, the first lady emerges from behind a pair of dark curtains. The crowd—there are maybe eighty of us, all in chairs arranged in rows—goes silent. But I don't have to ask what you mean. I can see. The woman is attractive, but that's beside the point. She has a beautiful belly. I smile and squeeze your hand. You smile back. The first performance is good. Not excellent, but solid technically and creative. It's the first time I've seen someone dance like that and you can see in my eyes that I'm glad I came with you. Exotic, I whisper into your ear. You nod and point with your chin—second dancer: She is shorter than the last and dressed in darker colours. She also has darker skin and black hair. The dance is very traditional. I assume it's more advanced than the last dance, but it was definitely not as fun. I'm not the only one who thought so, either. Applause is merely polite. The dancer leaves the stage and the third one arrives. That is when it begins. To my eyes, this dancer is less pretty than the other dancers. When she walks to the centre of the stage, she is also less graceful. But your reaction is different. You lean forward, your eyes widen. You're unashamedly staring at this woman. I notice, but don't do anything. I'm interested. Do you know her? Is there something about her that you're looking at? Nevertheless, the music starts, the lights are dimmed and the routine begins. And to think I ever thought this woman wasn't graceful. From her first movement, a gliding motion to her left, she is the epitome of grace. Yet at the same time she is earthy, grounded by her body. I'm enjoying the first few seconds of the dance—when suddenly I hear you moan, ever so lightly. I must be hearing things. There it is again! A moan, a soft moan. Maria, I ask, what's going on? You close your eyes and try to steady your breath. Why are you out of breath? I take your wrist. Your pulse is quickening. Maria, what's going on? You clench your teeth and can only manage to answer through a suppressed moan: "I... don't no-o-oh..." Maria? Your breath is getting heavier and heavier, you're moaning under your breath through clenched teeth. Your eyes are fixed on the belly dancer as she weaves in and out of her femininity. That's when you buck your hips for the first time. Slightly forward. Coupled with a moan. Maria, I say, louder this time, do you want to go? We can leave— For the first time you tear your eyes away from the woman dancer and turn to look at me. You look angry. No, you say. That's it. One word. You buck your hips again. Your chair bounces ever so slightly off the ground. No. The man sitting behind you shakes his head, thinking you're getting bored or anxious or, at any rate, disturbing his enjoyment of the performance. Maria, I say, what are you doing? Let's go. Another movement of the hips, another bounce of the chair. Suddenly, I feel your leg start to press against mine. Your right leg against my left. It's pushing my leg aside. Your legs, you're spreading your legs! The dress becomes tight between your knees. You moan loader. The dancer continues her dance. I start to take you by the hand, ready to pull you out of your chair—but stop. Frozen. My eyes glued to the inside of your left leg. There's a drop on it. A drop? A drop of what? It slides down your ankle, onto and over your shoe and onto the ground. Then another drop slides down. And another. Jesus, it's not the only place that's wet, either. The floor beneath your chair is turning into a small puddle. Your dress—the back of your dress—is wet, soaked through. Every few seconds the dress releases more liquid into the puddle. Every few seconds another drop slides down your left leg and over your shoe. Discretely, I run my hand up the inside of your right leg. Discretely. I almost forget to breathe. Jesus Christ! Your leg is all wet, not a patch of dry skin left. I realize: Your pussy is. You moan. Out. You push your hips forward. Of control. You spread your legs further. The belly dancer is getting into the heart of her routine now. It's by the far the best and most erotic dance of the three, but, of course, I don't care about that. I don't know what to do. It's only a matter of time before someone realizes—the man sitting to your left clears his throat, you're pushing your left leg against his right, taking his space; then he looks over. He sees you staring ahead, your legs spread, my face telling him exactly the following thing: I have no idea what the hell is going on either! Whoever made this gymnasium did a terrible job. The floor is crooked and your puddle has now started turning into a stream that's slowly making its way back through the rows and rows of seats. I can hear someone whisper in the back, "I think someone spilt their drink". I'm listening for any more comments when suddenly I'm neither listening nor thinking about anything anymore. You can't control yourself any longer and you moan so loud that the entire audience can hear. It's almost a scream. And I'd be pulling you out of your seat and toward the exit right now if it wasn't for the fact that as you moan you also put your hand on me, through my pants, and squeeze so hard that I groan just as loud as you did. After a few seconds, your hand still firmly squeezing me cock, I regain my bearings and realize that though the dancer is still dancing and the music playing, all eyes are directed toward us. You don't seem to mind or care but I'm already thinking of excuses. None of them make any sense: so sorry, she's sick; I'm afraid she got some bad news today and can't handle it? I'm half thinking about making an announcement that your "water broke" when I notice that your left leg is now on your neighbour's knee. He's looking as bewildered as I am and just as aroused. His arousal is showing right through his dress pants. His right hand is massaging your juicy calf muscle. And, for the love of god, you can't stop moaning. The man on your left has now done the most sensible thing a man with your calf on his crotch could possibly do and taken his cock out through his zipper and started rubbing it against your leg. Your juices are making him slick and though I very much have my own predicament, I can't help but feel a pang of jealousy: those are my juices! I thus do what seems like the only other sensible idea at the time. I unwind your fingers off my pants, take out my cock and let you grab hold once more. Mercy, you squeeze hard! Your hips are now moving so much that people behind us would be thinking you're possessed by Satan if you weren't surrounded by two men with their cocks out and, altogether, there wasn't a trio of people in the front row making the most wonderful and erotic sounds of pleasure anyone in that gymnasium has ever heard. That's probably the moment when I realize: fuck it, it's too late to put on the brakes, so I might as well enjoy it. The man to your left seems to have adopted the same philosophy some time ago. Indeed, the women to his left is, what looks like unconsciously, rubbing herself as well. The woman to my right, meanwhile is—what woman to my right? There is no woman to my right. But there is a woman standing, or rather kneeling, in front of you. Your chair overflowing with juices, the floor around you a slippery mess, she must be seeing some kind of amazing view because she can barely swallow. "Oh," is all she can manage, "oh my." For you, though, none of this seems to be going on. You're staring, focused, thrusting your hips toward the belly dancer, who is uninterested in anything except her dancing. How she cannot notice is anyone's guess. Must be an amazing feat of concentration— "Yes, yes, oh... yes, yesss," you purr. The lady who'd been staring between your legs now has her hands somewhere inside your dress. Her whole body is shaking. It's a surreal sight. She's maybe in her late 30s or early 40s, looks to be about the most normal middle-aged woman in the world. Yet she'd doing the most extraordinary thing: taking, slipping off, ungluing your panties from your soaking wet, torrential pussy. Because your legs are spread about as wide as possible, she's had to improvise with a pair of tiny scissors, yet she's eventually successful and pulls out what used to be your panties and what is now a pulpy mix of cunt juices and cotton. If the stunned silence of the rest of the audience has been a surprise, I think it is best explained by the following comment, shouted out rather desperately by a male voice from the crowd: "In the name of all that is good in the world, someone get a fucking microphone up there!" Well, there is one in the gymnasium, the one used to announce the dancers, and sure enough some brave and willing soul has dragged it to the front row in no time at all. You're moaning. I'm staring at the lady holding your panties in her hand—the wetness of them, the creaminess!—who herself is staring at your pussy, muttering something under her breath and burying her free hand beneath her own dress. And then you, your moans, boom out through the gymnasium speakers. The dancer keeps dancing. My cock is harder than titanium and you're alternating between stroking and squeezing it. The man on your left is getting the exact same treatment. People are gathering around, making a semi-circle around us. I close my eyes and start to groan. Whatever's happening, there's no stopping it. Best to enjoy the sensations. And what sensations. I suppose it was seconds after that, or maybe minutes. That the moans started becoming indistinct. No, that wasn't it. There was another sound, a different sound. A sloppy sound. A wet sound. A beautiful and arousing and that bastard! The man on your left, the, the, the— His hand is on "my" pussy and rubbing. Juices are flying everywhere. Mrs. Middleage is even getting them on her glasses. And the sounds: incredible, delicious, tasty, erotic, pure sex. Your moans, your wetness, my groans, and who knows who else doing what and feeling way too good about it. Except, wait a second, that's "my" pussy. I gather my faculties and push my hand toward it. I feel that bastard's hand. It's rubbing so greedily. I push against it. I push it out of the way. It pushes me. Two hands, ten fingers, fighting for one prize. I meet the bastard's eyes. We angle our eyebrows, anger and pleasure and insatiability etched into our faces. Of course, the result is two hands absolutely ravaging your pussy. Rubbing against it, sliding into it, wrists getting covered in goo. All the sounds being projected echoed, bounding around the room, everyone hearing each squish, splash, moan, slap, drip, groan, each slimy second of pleasure. And you're stroking me, him, both of us, I hope it never ends... "F-F-F-FUCK, Y—E, SSS." We must have both cum up at the same time, your two hands making us feel like heaven and hell at once... I remember: I felt my cock contract, almost crouch—and then pounce forward, orgasm, sending squirt after squirt of cum into the air (poor Mrs. Middleage and her glasses!) and wave after wave of pleasure passing through my entire body. The sound, my sound, hearing myself through the gymnasium speakers! And at the moment of orgasm, the natural reaction, the obvious motion of pressing fingers into your cunt, into you. Feeling it swallow them, suck on them, want them. Immaculate. And then your grip relaxes, you let go. My cock, still erect, is suddenly alone, cold. I put my hand on him but feel proud. We aren't hiding. Time to get my bearings. The dancer is no longer dancing. In fact, she's walking toward you. The crowd parts. You put your right leg on my knees. I hold it tight. The bastard, who I'm no longer fighting, is holding your left leg. Mrs. Middleage is leaving her own slimy trail on the floor and muttering, "yes, yes, open her..." The belly dancer stands in front of you and smiles. I can feel your body shaking. We all hold our collective breath as my fingers push into the flesh of your leg and the belly dancer, in all her sensuality, kneels in front of you. She smiles again and licks her lips, slowly. To Mrs. Middleage she holds out an outstretched hand. Into which she receives the panty-cutting pair of small scissors. I shiver as I feel your goosebumps. "please, please, do it..." you say so softly and in such a wavering voice that maybe it's only my imagination, "make me feel so good," the belly dancer brings the scissors closer, "like that, just like that" and puts them on the edge of your dress, "I need..." cutting and ripping it from bottom all the way to the waist, "you," and then slides open the two makeshift wings of the dress, revealing your naked, glistening lower body, a throbbing pussy, its hair wet and its lips so full, and you moan, "please, pl-ea-se..." The dancer puts one palm on your left thigh and one on your right. She massages them, teasing out each second of existence until it feels like minutes, hours. She holds her head a foot from your pussy, her tongue sliding around her lips like a dancer of its own, as your hips push, beg, drag your body towards her face. The feeling and strength of your sexuality is incredible to feel. Yet I know that I can't let your hips win. I hold you back. As does the man on your left. He's not a bastard anymore, we're working together. The look on your face is pleasure mixed with so much yearning. But I hold you back, I hold you back because I know that's what I have to do. The dancer puts her tongue on your wet thigh, slides it across your stomach, tasting you. The microphone is picking up the sound of your breath. You are being so patient. I feel proud of you. I pat your leg, such a beautiful leg. The man to your left is kissing your left leg, making love to it. Someone behind you has—when? I didn't notice—tied your wrists behind your chair and along with a younger woman is taking turns licking the back of your neck. I feel pride, satisfaction, eroticism; I feel chosen, to be able to hold this leg. I give it a kiss of my own. The belly dancer breathes softly on your pussy. You squirm, you moan. She breathes and it feels cool and cold against the wetness. Behind you the man and woman licking your neck are also taking turns whispering things into your ears. The man is being vulgar, calling you names: a slut, a whore, a cunt, a deviant; the woman is being sweet and loving, calling you: a goddess, perfect, an ideal creature. The first touch of the tongue is warm, inviting, intoxicating. Your muscles and body, fighting for so long to force themselves into the dancer's face, loosen and relax. Your eyes shut, your voice begins to purr. The gymnasium finds itself silent save for the sound of your ecstasy and the sound of a lapping tongue, which circles you and enters you and covers itself completely in your wetness. From my position, I can see the dancer on her hands and knees, her big dark eyes staring up at you, her mouth and tongue hidden by the individual wet hairs of the most beautiful part of the most beautiful body in the world. Your legs kissed, your neck licked, your ears being told what you are, you lose yourself in the moment, which lasts forever, and you let the tongue and her dancer love you and taste you and eat you. And all at once I understand. What appeared to be cruelty and endless teasing and control, was but the creation and nurturing of a moment—a single everlasting and perfect moment. The belly dancer, weaving and twisting her body, oblivious to yours, was not truly oblivious at all. She was aware and conscious and every second she wanted this as much as you did; every second she had to deny herself. Until this second, this moment, this now. Orgasm. Belly Button For Sara, so sweet and tender! I awake to the sounds of the enchanting dawn chorus. Its 5:45am and outside on the silhouetted branches of the tree outside a cluster of our small, feathered friends sing in unison at the rising of the sun. I turn to my side and see the equivalent of a dawn chorus lying beside me. God, you are so beautiful, so perfect and you look oh so fragile right now. The crumpled sheet has fallen away from you and your firm, perky breasts are on full show. Are you dreaming about someone special I wonder? Your nipples are hard and your breaths are light and relaxed. I edge closer, reluctantly wanting to touch you, but how can I resist? The tip of my finger traces slow circles around your nipple. You suddenly flinch and I almost shriek as you startle me, I’m so lost in you. I look at you and I’m relieved my voice didn’t wake you; that’s good, for now anyway! I return my finger to your nipple and again attempt to gently caress your skin without waking you. Goose bumps appear on your firm mounds as I lightly stroke you in delicate circles. I so want to lick it, but dare I? My peaceful lust gets the better of me and I gradually lean forward. My tongue, moist and free now licks slowly over your hard nipple. I hear you moan. I pull away and glance up at your cute face. Your eyes still shut, you appear still in slumber. I lean down and with the tip of my tongue I lick down your cleavage. My fingers carefully peel back the sheet, like a wave receding from the shore. I kiss your supple skin that adorns your perfect stomach. I see your belly rise and fall, and there it is, my destination, your belly button; a seemingly innocent hole. I gaze lovingly at it, wanting to make love with the start of your existence. I gently place my tongue in it, and lightly swirl it in its depth. It’s so soft, like all of the skin that wraps your body. As my tongue dips in and out, my hand creeps up the waves of the sheet beneath us. My fingers lightly touch your hair. My fingers from my other hand gently spread your navel wider. I want to be deep inside you, to feel you, to be at one with you. The tip of my tongue laps the outskirts and slowly dips in. It circles the edge, round and round, clockwise first then opposite. Your concaved skin now glistens and I feel the heat that’s radiating from you. I slowly trace my fingers away and they lightly stroke the curve of your breast. Over the top and on the underside, I cup your breast and it fills my hand. I lightly blow my warm breath in your belly button. My breath is cooler than your skin and I feel you shiver slightly and you exhale a satisfying moan. You appear more conscience now and you’re coming to terms that there actually is someone so close to you. It’s not a dream baby. I can’t look at you, for if our eyes met the magic would be lost. I feel a gentle hand in my hair, slowly massaging a fistful of my hair. I moan into your belly button, softly kissing it, all over it and around it. I hear you speak, a sleepy voice, but I hear you clearly… “Don’t stop baby, please don’t stop…” My tongue now laps at your naval, and I feel you fidgeting beneath me. I’m sure I recognise your movements, I’ve seen them countless times before. Surely you can’t be… can you? My eyes divert from your creamy white layer and I gaze upon your thighs. You’ve spread your legs and raised your knees. You are slowly grinding against thin air. Still I don’t want our eyes to meet, this spell can’t be broken, not just yet! Another weary moan from you and you mutter so sexily, “baby, I think I’m gonna… don’t stop…” I now dip my tongue right in, probing your inner core. Faster I lap the delicate hole, your fingers in my hair and your moans encouraging me to pleasantly intrude the centre of your body. I hear you gasp, then gasp again. I can hear a soft urgency oozing from your lips, “yes baby… goddd… yesss.” I feel you tense, your stomach taut, your hips and legs rigid as the wave of a silky smooth orgasm passes through you. I stay deep in your belly button, whispering my breaths into you. I hear you… “Kiss me baby…" Belly Dancer My wife, Kathy, and I just celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary. We married young and started our family young. Jean, our daughter, and Jim, our son, are only 14 months apart. Kathy and I have always had an active and open sex life. We didn't show the kids videos of ourselves or anything but we could always talk openly about sex and they knew we had sex very often. Jean was the first to marry and move out when she was 18. Jim got married about a year and a half later. Kathy and I enjoyed the new freedom of being able to have sex anytime and in every room. The only draw back was that both kids had keys to the house and for some reason they never lose the idea that this is home. They can come and go as they please; we almost got caught a couple times. After a few months the newness wore off and there was that little bit of "empty nest" thing going on. Not having the kids to fuss over Kathy and I decided that we needed to find something for us. We looked into a few things but nothing really excited us. Then one day we were in this strip mall and saw a dance studio that offered belly-dance lessons. At first we just laughed at the idea but it seemed to grow on us. They also offered drum lessons so I could play for her as she danced. Needless to say, we signed up. Kathy took the beginning class, then the intermediate class and the advanced class and finally became an instructor one night a week. My drumming was coming alone as well. We were very excited as we both made her costumes and got more and more into it. Then Kathy decided to share her new talent with some friends of ours and that's when things got very interesting. We invited Danny and Barbara, everyone calls her Bunny, over for a Greek night. We ordered in Gyro plates and Greek salad and sat around on the floor on big pillows. The evening was going great. Everyone was having good time. Now I might add that Kathy and I have had sex with this couple for many years, but only in our fantasies. Any time we would have fantasies of bring another couple into our bedroom it would be Danny and Bunny. We never expected they would ever find out or that they had the same fantasies until this night. After a good meal and some good wine, Kathy said we had something we wanted to share with them. Little did we know just how much we would share with them before the night was over. While Kathy went upstairs to change I poured everyone another glass of wine. When I saw Kathy at the top of the stairs in her gold panty and bra set with all the veils that made up her skirt and the veil across her face I put on the music and got out my drum. Danny and Bunny both looked at me questionably until they saw Kathy. If they hadn't already been on the floor I'm sure they both would have fallen there. Did I mention what all this dancing has done to Kathy's figure? Kathy danced around the room removing one veil after another. I heard Bunny say something to Danny about his fantasy coming true. The last veil was the one over her face and chest. She bent over Danny and was putting it around his neck when Bunny suddenly reached up and unsnapped Kathy's bra. It fell down her arms exposing her tits for Danny to see. Kathy froze for a moment looking back at me and I just smiled and nodded. Kathy not only let the bra fall into Danny's lap but brought his hands up to fondle her tits. Bunny and I were cheering them on. Kathy let Danny play with her tits for a few minutes then reached for Bunny's hand to pull her up. Bunny tried to resist but Kathy was forceful. She took Bunny to the center of the room and was dancing around her. Kathy started to remove Bunny's top and Bunny allowed it to be pulled over her head. Bunny started moving but it was more like a stripper than a belly dancer. Kathy unzipped Bunny's skirt and it hit the floor. They both continued to dance and Kathy did the same to Bunny that she had done to her; and Bunny's bra fell to the floor. Now both women were dancing topless in just their panties. Kathy got behind Bunny and pushed her in my direction to dance for me while she went back to Danny. Bunny's tits were in my face and I couldn't help but reach up and play with them. Kathy was watching us as Danny continued to play with her tits. When Kathy saw me look over to her she took Danny's hands off her tits and placed them on the sides of her panties. She held them there as she looked back and me and asked the silent question. I just smiled and nodded. Kathy removed her hands from Danny's and he started pulling down Kathy's panties. I reached for Bunny's panties and she looked back at her husband. Seeing that he already had Kathy's off she looked back at me and smiled and off came her panties. As if the women had their own signals they both backed away and were dancing nude for us. Then they looked at each other and changed places. Kathy was dancing for me and reached down to pull me up. As she danced around me she started undressing me. Bunny was doing the same to Danny. Once he and I were both naked they looked at each other again and changed back as if they were unwrapping a gift and offering it to each other. Kathy pushed Danny down and before he hit the floor she had his cock in her mouth. Bunny, on the other hand, pushed me back and walked up my body until her pussy was in my face. I wasted no time diving into her and she was every bit as tasty as my fantasy. I licked and sucked Bunny's pussy for a while then she stood and turned around so she could watch Kathy and Danny. She brought her luscious pussy back to my mouth. I couldn't see my wife and Danny but heard muffled moans from both of them and assumed they had gotten into a 69 position. When Bunny leaned forward to tack my cock in her mouth I could finally see them just getting up. Kathy lay back on the pillows and I watched Danny slide his cock into my wife's pussy. I was so amazed at watching Kathy getting fucked that I stopped licking Bunny's pussy. Bunny, too, stopped sucking me to watch and the both of us just lay there watching our spouses fucking each other. Like I said this is the only couple we have ever had sex with and that was only fantasy. Now here it was live and really happening. It seems it was a fantasy come true for them as well. Bunny was laying next to me now and was stroking my cock and I had my fingers in her pussy as we watched the scene before us. We watched as both Danny and Kathy reached orgasm then looked at each other and kissed each other deeply. I rolled on top of Bunny and my cock slid easily into her. She was so wet from watching her husband. I started stroking in and out of her and neither of us lasted very long. When she said, in mid orgasm, "Thank God you are finally inside me", that was it and I shot deep in her pussy. I rolled off Bunny and looked up to see Danny and Kathy watching us. I said, "I hope we gave you as good a show as you gave us." Bunny started stroking me and told Kathy, "You have got to teach me to dance like that." Kathy responded, "Your dance seems to have gotten the desired results." I pulled Bunny's face around and kissed her. When she broke the kiss she told Kathy she still wanted to learn. Over the next few weeks Bunny came over to learn to belly dance. Some times I would play the drum for them but most times they practiced alone. I think they were learning more than dancing and maybe someday they will share it with Danny and myself. Belly Dancers in My Mind I feel my breasts bound flat to my chest underneath the cotton of my shirt. The crispness of the starch in my collar rubs against my soft feminine skin. I hope none of them see the grimace on my face as I reach up to tug the collar away. It wouldn't be so bothersome if I hadn't been overly warm all day. The fans the women used on myself and the other men in the group cooled me, but not nearly enough. I enjoy and revel in the sound of the music playing, watching light-skinned women in sheer fabrics sway their hips. I know their skin is light because they spend their days in the camp, entertaining the men until the night air hits and it's possible for the trading to actually begin. I smile to myself because the men around me don't realize what they are really dealing with. I'm not a mere merchant looking for scarves and blades to take to the store at home. Nor is my co-owner merely my friend. He is my husband. I wonder what they'd think of they knew what was underneath the cottons of my shirt and trousers. They excuse my long hair and my silence in the fact that I am a young American boy. After-all, my co-owner also wears his hair long and speaks in a low, soothing voice. I take another sip of wine and stare into the eyes of the dark haired beauty before me. She offers me more wine and I place my hand over hers as she moves to pull away. She looks down and I know she knows. I lock eyes with her, almost in a panic, but her face smoothes out just as quickly when one of my male compatriots tells her to treat the guests with the honor they deserve. I move my hand away from hers and the glass and she reaches out to caress my face. She smiles and leans forward to press her lips to mine. The softness and sweetness of her mouth is nearly unbearable and she pulls away. "Please forgive me for my fear, Sir. I was lost in my own thoughts. It won't happen again." The men around me laugh and ask if I've ever even been with a woman. I lie to them. "No." They laugh and call the woman back. I scramble further back into my chair. I fear they will discover the fact that I am much less the man than even they think I am. Gently swaying, her ample hips come into my field of vision and I slowly raise my gaze. I brush my thoughts across the soft exposed flesh of her tummy and up through the thinly veiled cleft between her breasts. I settle my eyes on the beautiful jewels around her neck, imagine pressing my lips against her pulse, remember the softness of her lips, and then lose myself in the depth of the brown of her eyes. I forget my fear as silently those beautiful hips find their way to taking a seat on the floor next to my chair. I'm nearly certain that the whole room watches as I take a sharp intake of breath, her hand resting on my thigh. I look around, but the men are engrossed in the belly dancers and the only pair of eyes vaguely interested in me are those of my husband. I watch the twinkle in his eye before he turns back to the other men and he leaves me to my own devices. I rest my hand on hers and lift her to stand and pull her slightly towards me. She leans against one of my knees, wrapping one arm around me. She balances close and I inhale the spicy smell of her skin. I forget my manners for a moment and bury my face in her hair, inhaling the distinctive scent of nag champa. I hear her take in a sharp breath herself. I remember my place and lean back. She smiles at me and leans towards my ear. In hushed breathy tones, easily drowned out by the music, "Now don't be afraid and don't say anything. I know your secret. I won't share it, but only if I may stay in your tent tonight." I silently nod. She smiles, "I'm yours....." I feel her lips gently drag across my earlobe and her breath graze as once again I feel the gentle press of her lips against my skin. I reach out with one hand and caress the bare skin of her side. The gentle caress of my hands there feels like heaven to me. I look into her eyes once again and we kiss with more passion this time. I tangle my fingers in her hair and hold her there. I enjoy the velvety smoothness of her tongue. Finally, we break that connection and I look towards the opening of the main tent. She nods and stands. She moves to find a scarf to wrap around her hair as I stand and shake the hands of the men as they sneer and snidely laugh at the young boy who "will finally get a piece of tail". My husband just smiles knowingly at me and tells me that I had better be done with her before he gets back. I grin, knowing full well that that means I had better not care when he comes back. I step outside the flap of the tent and I can smell her presence behind me. We move to the next closest tent and step towards the flap. The music fades a touch, but we can still enjoy it from here. As I move to open it, three girls giggle and come bounding out. I look to the beauty on my arm and she just smiles knowingly. We step through and there are candles and the smell of nag champa permeating the air. "He's your husband, isn't he?" I silently nod again. "He's beautiful, too." "Thank you." I sit down on the feather mattress covered in silks and beautiful lush fabrics. She sits beside me and I wonder if she just wants to talk. I silently hope that this wasn't just an escape for her. She leans forward and kisses me again. I close my eyes and am thankful I wasn't mistaken. I lean forward, putting one of my knees between hers as I press her back against the silk of the topmost linen. I brush the shawl from around her so it fans out like wings. She smiles up at me and I test the lushness of her skin as I find my lips resting against her pulse. Slowly, almost unbearingly, I place slow light bitting kisses over her exposed shoulders before pushing her straps down. She reaches for my shirt buttons and I brush her hands away. She looks at me questioningly and I simply shake my head. My pleasure from this will be hearing the rapidness of her breaths. She wrinkles her forehead in confusion. "Don't worry. Just enjoy...." I wonder if any of the men in the camp have ever treated her this way... I shake my head and press her straps down so they barely keep her modest. I lean forward and kiss the blush and heat radiating from her. I move my face from side to side, enjoying the silkiness of her skin. Carefully, I slip her shirt up over her head and sigh at the beauty and fullness of her breasts. I lean forward and gently just press my lips first to one dark nipple and then the other. I watch goose bumps break out across her chest, despite the heat of the evening. Slowly, and gently, I lightly dart the tip of my tongue across one of her nipples before taking it into the warmth of my mouth. I can taste the spices she's used to scent her skin. It's pure heaven to both my sense of taste and smell to be able to just press my mouth to the light tan of her skin. I feel the warmth of her radiating out and her hips move involuntarily pushing back against the press of my thigh. I smile and move my lips to the soft flesh of the tummy I admired earlier. I enjoy the feel of pure flesh pushing up against my face as my bound breasts brush against the warmth emanating from between her thighs. I hear her moan slightly as I curiously, drag one finger under the waistband of the sheer skirt she is wearing. Smiling, I push all of my fingers beneath the waistband and pull it down over the roundness of her hips and smile at the dark stain spreading out across the silk of her panties. I slide further down the silk linens and enjoy the bite of her own natural spices in my nose. Tentatively, I press the very tip of my tongue against the wetness of her panties. Her hips near violently buck as her back arches. I see her muffle her cries with one of the beautiful pillows around her. I rub my face over silk in front of me. Smiling, I gently take an edge in my teeth and slide it over. Straining to remain slow, I press the flat of my tongue against her wetness and drag it for the length, stopping when I reach the top. I lightly take the small pulsing piece of flesh between my teeth and quickly dart my tongue back and forth. I feel her body quiver and shake as her high pitched screams are muffled. I smile as one of her hands buries itself in my hair and she holds me there between her thighs. I gently suck and dart my tongue over and over for what seems like a blissful eternity. I feel her body spasm so many times I lose count. Smiling, I climb back up between her thighs and wrap her in my arms, smoothing her hair back and kissing her softly. As she drifts off to sleep, I see the flap of the tent move and my husband smiles as he carefully and quietly moves into the room. I gently move her onto her side and curl up behind her as my husband slips into the bed with us and wraps his arms around me. I lay there smiling listening to the both of them breathe as they sleep and I wonder if the nomads will say anything if they find us this way. I drift off, smiling to myself about being coated in the smell of the spices of her bath and the spices of her... Belly Dancing Sister As Donna drove in the dark the 70 miles from the restaurant in a small regional city after her last performance to her home in a small town she took the opportunity to think about her life. Here she was, almost 30, divorced for 6 years already, a small but nice home which she could just afford on her wage at the grocery store, some good friends, her mother close by and her father long gone. She had married as a teenager, to a bum 15 years older. Only two things to thank him for she thought, he had paid for her belly dancing lessons which meant she could earn extra money from time to time dancing at restaurants and for special occasions, and because he had been roughing her up a bit before she tossed him out, she also had some martial arts training. Donna was proud of her kid brother Tom, now 25, the first in the family to ever finish college. He was getting married in a month and she wanted to get him something special, likely an expensive sound system as he had made it all through college with a cheap portable CD player. But she didn't have the spare money for that and to pay for the hotel at the wedding which was two states over. Despite 4 years age difference Donna and Tom had always gotten along well, playing pranks on each other and being there for each other through their parents fighting. She remembered letting him "accidentally" get eye fulls of her tits when he was a young teen and watching him get a hard on while she sprawled on the couch with barely anything on while watching the VCR together. Once when she had "gone home to momma" while married to the bum she had caught a glimpse of Tom spying on her while she practiced her belly dancing so she had put on a very sensuous performance, even slipping off her sequined bra but keeping a thin veil over her breasts. When she got home, there was a phone message from Cindy, an old friend in the city who ran an entertainment placement service part time and a florist shop the rest of the time. Cindy would call two or three times a month with belly dancing gigs. Mainly restaurants, sometimes for club meetings, or at private homes for dinner parties or cocktails. She'd done a couple of stags but Cindy and she made it very clear ahead of time that, while she would end off the performance with a 5 minute nude dance for the groom-to-be for a great tip, she was not a hooker and there would be no touching. She called Cindy the next morning who said she had a well paying performance for her but there was a catch. It was a stag and Cindy knew Donna was cautious about stags since the one four months before. After the 5 minute nude dance at the end when she was walking through the room still nude to her changing room, two drunken louts tried to sandwich her between them. The one behind reached around and roughly grabbed her boobs and the one in front clasped his hand over her crotch. He got a finger a millimeter into her cunt before her martial arts training took over and the two guys were soon rolling on the floor moaning and holding their crotches. "Well I need the money bad" Donna told Cindy, "but make it real clear, no touching, no grabbing, no cheap feels." So it was set for the next Saturday in a house in one of the best sections of the city. Donna arranged to check out the place several hours before the party started to see the space she would be dancing in and make sure there was a room which she could make her dressing room. Before she left home she slipped on her long, curly black haired wig over her short blonde straight hair and took off her glasses and put in her contacts to look the part of a Middle Eastern belly dancer. The house was huge with a large finished basement room where the show would be. Even with 15 guys in the room she would have ample space for a show. With Rick, the host for the evening, she checked out the sound system. The guys would mainly be in their mid to late 20s. She and Rick agreed she would do two shows, each about half an hour with 15 minutes between performances for her to change. Then Donna reviewed the rules again. Rick said there would be a very good tip for the nude portion which would be better if it lasted 10 minutes, 5 minutes for the crowd then the last five for the groom. Then Rick asked if she would do more "The groom has had a fantasy about belly dancers for ever, we'll make it very worth your while to go further. We know your not a hooker but this guy has been telling us about his hots for belly dancers for the last five years." "No" said Donna, not wanting to leave any doubt. "OK, we don't want you to do anything you don't want to but if you get comfortable and feel like doing more the guys have put this together." Rick said pulling out a thick wad of $20s and waving it back and forth. "The deal is, the more you do the bigger the tip. Rub your breasts on him, stroke his cock, sit on his lap, suck him or have him slip his cock inside you, the more you get. No one else will touch you. This is for him and his fantasy. Think about it please." While she ate a small dinner in a restaurant killing time for the several hours before her performance she thought about it. The money was tempting. Rubbing her tits against him would be no big deal to her if he was a decent guy. Alright she thought, if the crowd doesn't look like a bunch of out of control louts and the groom's not a repulsive looking old fart she'd tell Rick she'd at least rub him with her tits. As she walked up the driveway to the back door at the time she had set with Rick, she could hear some music playing and guys laughing. Rick let her in and let her take a peak around a corner to see how the crowd was. They were all casually dressed, drinking beer and eating pizza. No falling down drunks, just a bunch of guys having a good time. Donna thought that it looked good. "Which ones the groom" she asked. Rick looked around and said "He must be in the can, but you won't miss him. We'll have him sitting in a chair in front plus while your changing between sets, we're going to strip him and tie him to the chair." Rick then asked if she had thought about what size tip she wanted. She told him that if the groom isn't a fat old fart she would be taking some of the extra money home with her but not all. Rick told her the groom was young, in shape, and a great guy so she should try to earn it all. Donna put on her first costume for the evening and looked at herself in the mirror thinking she looked pretty good. She had a white tira type headband holding up her face veil, a sequined bra with a waterfall of beads over the top of her flat, bare midriff, a beaded belt low on her hips and a several layered white skirt slit up the side in several places. She did a few warm up steps, thrusting her hips and, feeling quite good about the upcoming show, went down the stairs and waited just around a corner. At her signal, Rick started the music and the room went quiet While still out of sight she clapped her finger cymbals together to announce her arrival. Then she heard a voice shouting "Yes, yes this is the show I wanted!!! wooooo!!!" Obviously the groom, Donna thought while faintly recognizing the voice. She went around the corner, dancing to the wild beating of drums, thrusting her hips and raising her arms and twirling a long semitransparent wrap through the air. The whole crowd whooped and hollered. She started circling the room to let each guy get a good look at her while she danced and took in the audience. She quickly realized this would be a fun audience that would watch her raptly and appreciate her moves. She had just about completed the circle when she focused on the groom sitting in a chair in front of the other guys. She almost stumbled but her years of experience kept her dancing while she tried to absorb that the groom was Tom, her baby brother!! She stopped in front of him, glad she was wearing her veil, wig and contacts and swayed her hips to keep his eyes focused there and not to look her in the face. She slowly moved away and tried to keep her back to Tom. The tempo of the music changed and she started to dance slower while she danced her way around the room again. Her heart was beating much faster than it should be and she was almost panicking. But the slower beat of the music started to calm her and she started to think. She'd give Tom a damn good show. He'd obviously been struck by her belly dancing when he was a young teen. Then she remembered how she teased him with glimpses of her body in those years and how he would watch her practices dancing through cracks in doors. The only thing was she didn't want Tom to recognize her so she was going to have to keep her veil over her face throughout the whole show and hope the wig and Tom focusing on her belly and hips would work. The audience was great. They watched her every move and she was in complete control of the room of 15 guys. She felt a surge of power and her dancing became even more sensuous, drawing enthusiastic cheers. All too soon she recognized the music as the last minute of her first performance and she danced over to the stairs, disappearing up them just as the music stopped. She could hear them still whistling and cheering as she shut the door to the dressing room. She slipped out of her costume and wiped herself down with a towel. Belly dancing is serious cardiovascular exercise and she had just put on one of her best performances ever. She started putting on her second outfit. This time a red headband holding up her red face veil, a red sequined bra with a front opening clasp, a wide beaded belt, red panties with side snaps and, semitransparent red harem pants. She was adding several hip scarves when there was a knock on the door and Rick asked to come in. "Oh, you were hot out there" was Rick's first statement. "Thanks Rick, its a great audience which really appreciates my show" Donna said. "It looks like your really into it" Rick said. "Just remember the more you do the more you get" he said as he took out the wad of twenties. He then put half of them on the dresser and as he was going out the door said "This is the down payment on the tip, I'm sure you'll get it all". Donna had been so focused on dancing that it was only then it sunk in that it would be her brother she would be dancing stark naked in front of in a couple of minutes. Not only that but she had already promised to do some extras. "Can't back out now though the only thing that will get me through is if Tom doesn't know its me" she thought.. She opened the door and heard a commotion and the sounds of a struggle coming from the basement. She realized the groom had been tackled and was being stripped and tied to the chair. "Oh my gawd I haven't seen Tom naked since he was 10" she thought. The music started again and Donna swept into the room twirling and thrusting. The guys cheered as she danced close to Tom who was naked in the chair. Donna could see a bit of a sheepish look on his face as he realized a strange woman was seeing him naked tied to a chair. Donna noticed he wasn't tied tight at all and could likely stand up in three seconds if he wanted. She stopped in front of him and put on a fast show of hip swings and thrusts. Glancing at his lap she could see she was starting to have an effect on him already. She then swung around to let the other guys see her front and let her brother see her ass swinging. The audience was great, she kept them gazing at her every move. What a rush it was for her and she started to put on a wild show. Soon she pulled out the hip scarves and twirled them around. She then dragged them slowly over Tom's lap and the guys cheered as the soft fabric being slowly pulled over his semi-hard cock made it twitch and visibly grow. While slowly dancing and swaying her hips she undid the beaded belt and let it drop to the floor. Then while standing in one spot she slowly pushed on her harem pants which slid down her legs. She circled around the room letting each guy soak in her long legs and flat midriff while she sensuously danced. Once again when she was in front of Tom she stopped and did her stomach undulations, letting her muscles ripple up and down while she swayed and thrust her hips. Then leaning forward she shook her breasts close to Tom, letting him take a long look down her cleavage. She went around the room again giving a similar view to the whole group. Donna was getting hotter and hotter. The guys eyes were glued to her and she was in control completely. What a turn on for her. Now she was in front of Tom again and reached up to her bra and slowly undid the front. Though undone, the two cups still clung to her breasts enough to cover her nipples. Tom's eyes were large, and she knew by the sudden intake of his breath that with the last little flick of her shoulders the bra had fallen open giving Tom a full view of her naked breasts. After letting Tom have the view to himself for a minute she danced around the room and the guys were going wild. Now comes the moment, she thought. I have to strip off my panties in front of Tom. This moment of hesitation was quickly swept away by the wave of power she was getting from the crowd. She swayed her hips in front of Tom and undid one snap then the other and tossed her panties at Tom's chest. He stared at the small trimmed patch and his eyes followed it while she swayed it back and forth. She then turned to the group and slowly went around the room showing herself off and making every pair of pants bulge. She then picked up one of the fallen hip scarves and danced around the room twirling the scarf and covering and uncovering herself with it. Then when the music slowed again she went and danced in front of Tom, giving him an up close personal show. She was so into it that she put one of her feet up on his knee and spread her legs so he could see the folds of her cunt clearly. Donna was hot. The audience was the greatest and she wanted to put on the best show for them and especially Tom. She started closely circling Tom and her erect nipples rubbed his shoulders then the back of his neck. She slowly dragged them across his cheeks and he opened his lips and gently sucked the tip of her nipple. She teased him like this for a while getting closer then further away, keeping him focused totally on her breasts. She let him take as much of her breast in his mouth as possible and suck on it. She started to gasp as she realized he was also tonguing it. She pulled away and turned to the audience again and danced for them to allow herself to cool down a bit. She danced slowly, backing up towards Tom, swaying her ass for him. Donna then straddled one of his legs, facing away from him and slowly sat on it. She lifted herself just a bit and then drew her moist cunt lips along the top of his thigh. Back and forth she went. She could hear Tom breathing heavy and the audiences eyes were glazing over at such a hot sight. She kept working her way up his thigh when she felt his hard on against the back of her ass. This prompted her to move her ass side to side to feel it better. She slowly stood and then danced around to the back of Tom's chair and knelt down. The audience couldn't see much of her but her arms come around onto his lap and then her fingers slowly stroking his hard on. She kept this up for a few minutes then stopped as she sensed he might come soon. She danced around close to the audience and only once gently pushed a hand away. She was debating what to do, should she end the show now or keep going. She glanced over at Tom and saw his straining hard on and thought "What he hell, mine should be the last cunt he fucks before he marries." She danced over to him, straddled him, rubbed her nipples on his cheeks then slowly lowered herself. She felt the tip of his hard prick on her cunt lips and shifted so it would slip in then lowered herself an inch. The guys roared as she lowered herself until he was fully in her. She started dancing on his lap with him inside. She glanced down at his eyes. They were glazed over while his whole being focused on the warm moist cunt wrapped around his cock. She tightened and relaxed her cunt muscles and then started moving up and down. Tom loosened his hands from the cords tying him to the chair and grabbed her breasts and squeezed and rubbed them. The tension heightened and the rhythm of Donna's pumping quickened and quickened. Suddenly Tom grunted loudly and thrust up hard as he shoot a load of cum into his sister Donna's cunt just as she also came with a loud moan. The crowd clapped whistled and cheered, bringing Donna back from just enjoying the feel of her brother Tom's hard cock in her. It was still twitching inside her when she stood up, turned around, took a bow and strode towards the stairs and the dressing room. A minute later Rick knocked on the door and came in while she covered herself with a towel. He handed her the whole wad of cash and said "You earned every cent, Tom is one happy guy". Three weeks later Donna was at Tom's wedding thinking about the stag as his brother and new wife walked down the aisle past her. She was quite good looking and looked like she had the body to satisfy her brother. At the reception Donna whispered into her brother's ear "I hear from the guys that you've got the hots for belly dancers. That must have been quite the show I put on for you when you were 14". When she ran in to Rick he looked at her blond hair and glasses quizzically and asked "Have we ever met?" She smiled and said "No." Belly Dancing Wife I’ve always loved belly dancers, I think they are sexy as hell and over the yrs I have convinced my wife to give it a shot. She always thought it would be a nice idea but never keen on exposing that much of herself. A few months ago, about half a year, I went down to a local Arab store, in some downstairs slightly smelling of marijuana type premises. The intent was to buy my wife a nice belly dancing costume. She had already started to learn and was going to be involved in a performance so I thought a nice, and I mean real nice, costume would be appropriate. The shop was dingy and dark, it took me some moments before my eyes had adjusted. When I could see however I found a store full of interesting things, knives and silks, tea pots and hookahs. The proprietor was an obese man in a white galabia, traditional Arab attire, he had a mustache to make used car salesman charming and immediately greeted me, though I was not sure if he wanted my business. He asked if he could help me find something however and so I told him of my wife and her upcoming performance and he asked me of her skin and hair colour, eye colour and build. His English was thick and his terminology was crude at best. I was more than slightly taken aback when I told him my wife was of medium build though she had some nice curves as his only response was “Her titties man? How big are her titties?” Eventually stripped of words I showed him a picture or my wife which I carry around and he only shook his head saying, “You are ignorant man. I cannot fit her from picture.” He pulled two outfits off the rack and showed me the bust of each. His large fist didn’t fit into one cup on one outfit and had significant spare cloth on the other. “Belly dancers must be sensual. Must fit well into outfit. Bring your wife I will show you.” And with that he ushered me to the door and up the stairs. When Mary, my wife, got home that night I told her about my plan and how I was going to surprise her. “Silly,’ she said, ‘you don’t have to do that, and besides these outfits hardly have ‘real’ sizing. I would need to try them on to make sure they are a good fit.” I admitted that the shop keep had said the same thing and that I had a lot to learn about belly dancing but I also told her that some of the outfits he showed me were incredibly sexy. Mary giggled and scratched my neck, “You’ve been thinking naughty thoughts about me in my belly dancing outfit haven’t you?” she mocked. “Alright, tomorrow night then we can go in and I can try on the whole store. But don’t blame me when we spend too much money.” The next night I led my wife into the dingy store, the same immense man was there, his greeting was short to me again but longer towards my wife. “Ahh welcome, welcome, your husband told me you were looking for some nice clothes.” He led her into the store, his hand rather low down her back. I found a seat on a small ottoman covered in cloth to watch my wife parade around in all sorts of garbs. My wife and the store keep were talking avidly as he led her through the store picking out various outfits. Several times I lost sight of them and once heard a playful giggle before my wife came out from behind a stand, flushed and smiling. When my wife had several outfits, probably closer to ten, she entered the changing room, which was no more than a curtain on a circular rail. The store keep ignored me as my wife changed, in fact he paid a lot of attention to the curtain. Soon my wife came out and stood in front of me, garbed in a sexy black and silver number. I noticed her large breasts filled the top a little too well as she posed for me. Then after some comments from the shop keep she returned to the changing room and a short while later came out in a different outfit. This time I stood agape. The outfit was tight, and bright, drawing a lot of attention to her large breasts. “Hmm,’ the shop keep hummed as he thought, ‘not quite right, too tight as well. Take off your top, we will try another.” My wife didn’t even pause, she reached her hands behind her back and unsnapped the top. It came open to reveal her large breasts clad in a very thin bra. “Silly girl,’ the man clicked his tongue, ‘You can’t wear bra with belly dancing. Take it off.” This time she did hesitate but only for a moment because the man clapped loudly. “You want a good fit. Take it off.” Slowly she reached behind her back and removed her bra. Her bare breasts revealed to this old man in the dank store. Suddenly I was very worried about someone else walking in, before I realised that she was still topless in front of a stranger. “Girl,’ his voice was very authoritarian now, ‘dance for me, show me how you move your belly so we know what kind of top you need.” Slowly, reluctantly my wife started to undulate her stomach, rolling her belly the way she was taught, topless and sexy. I could feel my cock harden. As my wife was dancing the Arab man was speaking to himself, “Yes, that’s it. Very nice.” His obvious arousal could be seen through his galabia. He watched for a few moments before stepping forward, “No, here,” he said, placing a large hand in between my wife’s naked breasts, “do not move.” He held his hand there while placing his second hand on her stomach, somewhat low, then my wife started to undulate again. It was a strange sight to see, my pale wife with his dark hand in between her breasts and kneading her stomach. “Yes, much better.” Leaving her while smiling he went into the back of the store and returned a short while later with a new outfit, top and bottom. “This one should be a good fit.” He says handing her the top. Quickly my wife tries it on, then the shop keep hands her the bottom while he is standing in between her and the changing room. “Well hurry girl, I don’t have all day.” Reluctantly, slowly my wife pulled her bottoms down, this whole time I had been enjoying the show, and my wife’s discomfort. I know I shouldn’t have but it was so interesting to watch. When the Arab man saw my wife’s panties he yelled and stomped his foot, “No, silly, silly girl,’ He bent over and quickly slid his fingers into waist band of the panties and quickly slid them down. My wife was shocked to say the least, ‘No panties in proper belly dancing.” Very, very quickly my wife turned around and bent over pulling the bottom of the outfit on. I don’t think she realised this at the time but as she bent forward her pussy lips could be seen between her legs, giving the large man a quick flash, they glistened with moisture and I could tell she was aroused. When the bottoms were in place she stood up and turned around again the Arab man admired her for a short while before he gestured for her to dance. Slowly my wife started to dance again as the older man watched, “Yes,’ he moaned at one point, ‘Good girl. You dance well, and your pale skin would be very popular with gentleman from my homeland.” He started to dance in front of her almost grinding against her while he continued to talk, “I tell you, I give you dancing job, you can learn lots more. My friends and I meet up once a week. You dance for us.” None of it was a question and my wife just nodded along. As soon as she agreed he moved in closer, this time I knew he was rubbing against her and I could see her eyes go wide. “That outfit suit you well, you buy that one. But we try another.” He stepped back and opened a cabernet. With care he removed a silver outfit, made almost entirely of metal links. Each link had a medallion on it with different pictures stamped into the medallions. “Strip, we try this one.’ As my wife slowly pulled her top and bottom off, leaving her completely naked in front of this stranger he continued to talk, ‘This outfit for private show. You wear for when you dance for my friends.” Mary dressed in the outfit, her large breasts fit nicely into the top and I noticed a gap in the links and medallions about where her nipples were. The bottom was of similar construction, links with medallions, it had a section which strapped around the top of each leg and the Arab man helped her adjust these while he caressed her legs. I had not done anything as he had obviously hit on her and watched her naked body because for some reason I was not processing this as my wife but as a sexy belly dancer. He then helped Mary adjust her top which involved pulling her breast out and quickly sucking on the nipple, making it wet and slightly hard before fitting it back into her top with her nipple poking out the hole hardening to fill it. When he did this with her first nipple she gasped and went to say something but it was done so quickly that by the time she opened her mouth to talk it was over. He then reached over and did the same thing with her other nipple, this time Mary closed her eyes and almost sighed. It didn’t take me long to realise that the chain links were now pinching her nipples and every time she moved they seemed to caress her. The Arab man motioned again and she started to dance, slower this time and every time she moved her eyes would close as the top pinched her sensitive nipples. Slowly the shop keep walked around her watching her as she danced. “Yes, good girl. You dance well.” He joined her then, dancing in his ungainly way and slowly he danced around her watching her. I could see he had a hardon and was amazed at the size of it and the slowly developing wet spot in his galabia. When he was behind her he moved in closer and started to grind against her. Mary’s eyes opened momentarily, I think as she felt his cock but then she closed them again and continued to dance light sighs escaping her lips. The shop keep’s hand ran down her sides and back up, tugging slightly on the top and causing my wife to gasp. Then they slid down again and massaged her arse, getting a good grope as his hands did this I watched as he deftly parted his galabia to reveal his large cock. I’m not going to guess at its size but it was massive. He then slide his cock between the tops of her thighs to rub against her pussy lips and pulled her into him. Mary’s eyes opened again as the cock slid against her lips and she looked at me still sitting in the chair, I nodded once and she closed her eyes pushing her arse backward into the older man’s crotch. He pulled back and angled himself differently so that his cock was pushing against by wife’s pussy before saying “Now girl, this is dancing.” And pushing himself forward to slowly sink into her pussy. Mary’s gyrations from her dancing had not stopped and I watched as slowly inch after inch of this stranger’s cock disappeared into her pussy her gyrations aiding in the invasion. Eventually his entire cock was buried deep inside her and he reached his hands around her body, one he placed on her stomach, the other on her breasts. The hand at her breasts continued to tease and pull at the top and her nipples bringing forth moans from my wife. While the hand at her stomach pulled her backward into him as he started to piston his hips fucking my wife. “Good girl,’ he sighed, ‘I am deep in your belly.’ As if to emphasise he massaged a section of her stomach and my wife sighed and closed her eyes, ‘Now I am going to fill your belly with my seed and give you my blessing.” His long slow thrusts into and out of my wife were rhythmic, almost dancing itself as he slowly fucked her. My wife ground her arse back into him placing one hand on her own stomach and pushing while the other reached over and grabbed his hair. As she pushed her hand into her stomach she moaned, “I can feel you cock, here.” She gestured with her hand and together he and she pushed on that spot and she sighed again. As he started to speed up my wife yelped and he simply grunted, “Your cervix is tight, girl.” He did not seem to care about her discomfort and continued his assault on her pussy. Her nipples were very large now, they normally grew during sex but the top was cutting off blood flow causing them to swell more and even a slight touch from the shop keep would bring gasps of pleasure from my wife. After a good fifteen minutes of this his breathing became more erratic as he moaned, “I am going to fill your belly girl.’ He gasped for breath while speeding up again, ‘Your womb will welcome my blessing in your tight belly.” “Oh God yes, fill my belly with your cum.” Mary screamed back as his long deep strokes brought her close to orgasm. Her tits were shaking almost violently now and her nipples were being pulled very hard by the top but my wife was enjoying every minute as I watched her eyes roll up in her head. “You get my black bastard in your white belly.’ He moaned, ‘Everyone know you fuck me.’ His breathing was rapid and short and I knew he was trying not to cum. ‘You tell me you want my black bastard in your belly and I fill you up good.” My wife couldn’t resist taking the bait, not when she was shaking with pleasure and dripping sweat, “Yes, knock me up, give me your bastard.’ She screamed at him before her eyes snapped open and her pupils dilated as she orgasmed and he came in her tight pussy. ‘Yes, fill my white pussy, fill my belly. God yes.” She screamed as the shop keep tensed all over pumping his cum into my Mary’s pussy. When he was done my wife could barely stand, unceremoniously he lent her over the arm of a couch. “I have filled your belly with my blessing, like you asked.’ My wife just moaned still lost in lust as cum ran down her leg, ‘Now you pay.” He said to me as he slid his cock back into his galabia. I went to the counter and paid for the two outfits as he continued to talk. “Your wife has very nice pussy and I hope I have filled her with my bastard. Now my friends and I meet every Wednesday at this address.’ He handed me a card, ‘Your wife wants to dance for us so make sure she is here at eight.” He then went back over to my wife pulling his cock out, “When you get home put your feet up so you don’t lose my blessing.’ He said as he presented his dripping cock to my wife’s lips, obediently she started to lick and suck his cock clean, ‘Wednesday we will give you tips on dancing and more blessings in your belly.” Then he pulled back, presumably because his cock was clean, packed one of my wife’s purchases, because she was still wearing the other one, her spare clothes and handed me her jacket. “Here, you go now.” Was all he said as he walked into the back of the store. I wrapped my wife in the jacket, which was just long enough to cover the fact that she was basically naked, and ushered her out the front door. It had gotten really dark while we were in the store and as soon as we got in the car my wife pulled her nipples out of the top, gasping in pain somewhat. She lay her head back and I drove her home. As soon as we got in the door she dropped her jacket and I laid her down there, sinking my aching cock into her cum filled pussy “That was the sexiest thing I have ever seen.” I fucked her in long slow strokes talking to her about the night. She had entered only thinking of getting a hot outfit for her to fuck me in but as he showed her around the store he asked her what kind of outfit she wanted. She told him and he said “Ahh you want him to give you his blessing.” My wife had looked confused and so he pointed at a painting of a pregnant belly dancer she was wearing no top and had a silver bell hanging from one nipple. The woman in the picture was black of skin and very attractive. “She was a customer of mine and I gave her my blessing in her belly. No charge. I left it here.” He said placing his hand on my wife’s mid drift and my wife giggled. All the while I was thrusting into her, “When did you think he was trying to fuck you?” I asked. She moaned as I sank in deep before saying, “When he had me naked in front of him I thought he might, when he was watching me through the gap in the changing curtain I thought he just wanted a show. I was waiting for you to put a stop to it.” I pulled her top up and sucked on a nipple bringing forth a nice sigh. “When he offered me to dance for his friends I thought he would try another night. You know I wouldn’t without your permission right?” I grunted as I could feel my balls starting to tingle, “I know. So when he sucked on your nipples you knew then right?” I was trying all my tricks to keep from cumming as she responded. “Yes I knew he wanted to fuck me and cum in me when he sucked on my nipples. But I still thought you would stop it. When he was behind me and I felt his cock between my legs I was waring with myself. I wanted you to stop it but I wanted you to let it continue.” She started to buck into me like she did when she was close. “When he said he wanted to give me his blessing I knew he wanted to knock me up.” I groaned again as I continued to thrust into her. “But you are on the pill.” I said knowing it to be true. “He doesn’t know that,’ she gasped, ‘so I thought I would play along.” She bucked and shuddered some more as her orgasm got closer, “When he was talking about knocking me up, giving me his bastard, it’s such a naughty thought that I just went with it. I screamed knock me up and on queue he started to fill me with his cum.” At that comment I couldn’t hold back any longer and added my cum to the shop keeps in my wife’s pussy while she shuddered in orgasm. Now for the first time I looked at the top my wife had, actually looked. It was beautiful, it had silvery pendants handing from the chain links which each made a soft metallic noise as they tapped together. But more than this, each pendant had an image embossed into it. Sexual images, of one woman dancing, several women, one woman several men. Various positions of sex with a variable number of partners and no matter where I looked they were all different, no two were the same. Blowjobs, sex, bondage even animals, everything you could imagine. “Do you want to dance for him and his friends? You know he will fuck you again.” I asked not really having a problem with it after all I had enjoyed tonight too, though I would have liked to have a go at my wife at the same time. “I could learn some new things for my dancing, if it’s alright with you?” I smiled and kissed her forehead before helping her up. “Play along just remember you pills.”