Mystic Veil Dance Ch. 02byJoseki Ko©
* * * * *
Click Here to hear the story. (7 min/RealMedia)
You need Real Player to listen to this file.
* * * * *
His eyes follow the dancer as the tiny movements of her expressions roll into him. He tries to remain still as she twirls in circles around his chair. As the blue veil drops into his lap he grasps it to him, her uncovered breast some how all the more alluring for the rest of her that is covered. His focus narrows as the piggy tails sway. He watches as the girl shows her anger and then the drop of the veil revealing the other breast.
She cups her breasts, offering them, sliding the moisture upon her skin from her throat, down to her still covered naval then grinning. she lifted a leg and placed it brazenly right between Your own, the foot nigh close to a brush but not, perched upon the chair... giving a searing look as she leaned forward, moisture sliding down the column of her throat and between the hallow of her breasts down the sleep gasping bara to the covered naval, her fingers keeping up the tempo, the heartbeat fast, using that stormy rhythm as she unwraps her first leg, keeping His eyes, letting the veil, gold, find His chest, discarded without care as she pushes back against His chair enough to cause some sense of rock, turning once more, steps taken as before, away, disdainful. haughty. Finding that invisible line again stops her. a hesitation this time.
He jumps a little as the tiny foot slides between his thighs and his eyes lower to the cupped and sweating breasts. His eyes return to her as the gold veil drops upon him and the girl whirls away in a flurry of haughtiness.
The bells rang softly, her body movements tight, slow, controlled, more graceful, more powerful, the muscles drawing in more enticing rolls, the arms weaving figure eights above the head, down the body, tasting the heat, tasting the intensity, finding the hips and sliding toward the the thighs and the eyes suddenly flash in his direction, fear, melting confusion, dancing on that chain of murky desire.
His eyes follow the figure eights as his nose picks up the musky smell of the girl and he drops his attention to her eyes again and sees the fear replaced by desire the hands rise quickly, small hands attempting to hide the larger sized breasts, throat tight.
Her muscles dancing to a faster more frenzied degree, tight circles made by the feet closer and closer to him, stomping when she was slightly to His right her eyes suddenly glaring with their defiance, setting her foot down firmly on Your leg, and unraveling that fifth silk, a pink and throwing it at Your face before pushing away again.
He laughs and catches the pink silk as the girl shows her disdain for him.
She winds in circling the chair, drawn closer and closer, until the hips would brush resting arms, daring him to grab at that white, the eyes veiling that lustful heat beneath that hard edged defiance that wisp of virginal white snags upon the arm of the chair.
Purposely it cannot be told and the female draws rigid, that fear jumping into the lids, that pulsing heat evident in her features and in the flush of the skin as she looks upon him. then twirling away, the snag keeping the one edge of the material until she rolls clean of it. Body gleaming and slick beneath the light of the fire and Your eyes only the last and final silk, that brazenly scarlet red remained, wrapped in a figure eight around her hips, between her thighs, covering the obvious smoldering pit of her sex, she let herself roll to her knees, as it were accidental, finding the floor with thighs wide and hands drawing her belly along the cold material, gasping, wriggling as the fire burned in her belly, evident within the orbs, the fear gone but for the aching, blood pulsing the desire, the ringing of the bells at a fever pitch with each well graced roll of the hips, churn of the finger and ankles as the girl squirmed upon the floor between Your booted feet, piggy tails sticking slickly to her all but naked figure, the hands tugging at the silk, rolling to rest on her rask, her legs wide, as one brushes at the place between his thighs, the foot kissing it most slightly, as the hand unwrap silk from it, then letting it drag across Your left inner thigh as it is pulled back to herself, repeating with the right leg, letting the foot rest there as the back arches cruelly, weight resting back upon the hands, a quick snapping roll of hip, exposing herself beneath the gauze, the slave heat hot and moist with the girl's agony of desire, her hand claims that last bit of silk tossed at his lap as she kicks away from him.
He sees the girl roll to her knees her treasures revealed before him. The golden piggy tails he craves so much plastered to her body. as she leans over to kiss his feet he takes the silk from the girls hands and rips it the rest of the way as it flies to him his eyes devouring the girl.
The girl begins wiggling to her belly, skin displayed as she moans loudly, the cold upon her feverish flesh, making the moisture appear in her eyes, her lips find your foot and she kisses it, letting it slide up to Your ankle and again giving it kisses as breathless choking words speak.
"La kajira Master. La... la kajira."
He grins and starts to clap his right hand to his left shoulder but he can't help himself as he pulls the girl into his lap, kisses her soundly his hands running the length of her body his fingers taking an intimate inventory of all the girls muscles and how they have worked, his touch cataloging her body in the devastatingly accurate touch of a Master.