The Dancing Girl
By RequiredWombat
It had been a long week, but I had made it to my favorite event of the week. Date night! My phone beeped with a text: He was five minutes away. I could hardly contain my excitement as I looked myself over in the mirror.
As usual, I was wearing a t-shirt and jeans. I loved that Fred didn’t expect me to dress up all girly even for dates. I had never been much of a girly girl; it had been ages since I had worn a skirt. And although I had a few pieces of jewelry in my dresser, I never wore them. I brushed my shoulder-length black hair a bit, adjusting my sharp bob, and then threw on a baseball cap, then left my apartment, ready for some fun!
Fred was just pulling up as I exited the building. I practically bounced down the stairs and opened the door as soon as I heard the lock click. “Someone’s excited!” he said, leaning over to peck my lips as I buckled my seat. “How are you, Abby-honey?”
“I’ve barely left the house in the last week, and work has suuuuucked!” I exclaimed. “But let’s not think about that now. What are we doing tonight?” I admired him as he put the car into reverse and pulled out. He was quite the catch—tall, confident, funny, a good job. And he was the best I’d ever had in bed. Just the thought of what we’d be doing after the date set butterflies dancing in my stomach. I tried to ignore the feeling.
“Dinner at a middle eastern place!” he said. “It’s called ‘The Dancing Girl’. And they have live belly dancing!”
“That sounds awesome!” I said. And it did—I loved that kind of food, and as usual we were going to do something we had never done before. “So long as you don’t expect me to dance.”
“Don’t worry!” he said, “If they demand audience participation I’ll volunteer in your place!” We both laughed at the thought of him shaking his butt. “Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll be professional dancers. Your tomboy sensibilities will not be compromised.”
I giggled as I looked the place up. “Huh. This is kind of weird. I tried to look for reviews but I didn’t see it listed.”
“Yeah, I noticed that too. Apparently they’re super old-fashioned and don’t have any online presence at all. Aisha told me about the place, she said it’s life-changing!”
Something felt a little funny. A little strange. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, so I ignored it. “No way we can pass it up then!” I said. I spent the rest of the drive staring at him out of the corner of my eye, giggling at his jokes, and wishing the ride would never end.
—
By the time we pulled up to the restaurant, though, my tummy was growling. We had driven for quite a while, and in my daydreaming I had lost track of where we were going. I looked around and couldn’t identify any familiar landmarks.
The restaurant itself had a palace-like facade, with tall tan columns and impressive wooden doors. “This place must be expensive…” I remarked as we walked in.
“It’ll be worth it.” he said, “Aisha wouldn’t shut up about it. She thought it would be perfect for you!”
Again, that strange feeling. I again ignored it—I didn’t want anything bugging me on date night! We entered, excited to see what was inside.
—
The interior was lit only by candles. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, even though it had been nearing dusk outside. We were in a room with a few low tables surrounded by cushions. It was pleasantly warm.
“You have arrived.” A woman entered the room through a beaded curtain. She was dressed in a flowy dress and was wearing a fair bit of copper jewelry around her neck and arms. Her neckline was quite low, and she wore a transparent veil in front of her face. It reminded me of the way Aisha dressed. It certainly fit the theme of the restaurant. “Come with me. Your room is ready.”
Fred and I followed her through the beaded curtain and down a dark hallway. The aroma of spices filled the room—I could smell cumin and cardamom and some other scents I couldn’t quite put my finger on. My stomach growled and I grinned at Fred. This was kind of exciting!
We passed by a few rooms with bead curtains only mostly covering their contents. I caught glimpses of their interiors. Couples lounging on cushions. Plates set out in front of them. And lithe women dancing on the table in front of them. “Are… are we gonna be in a room alone with a dancer?” I asked. I was starting to get a little nervous.
“Your room is here.” said the woman, ignoring my question. Fred ducked through the curtains, holding my hand. But I slipped out of his hand, staring down the hallway.
I saw a girl walking down the hall. She must be an employee—she was dressed like them, in a low-cut, flowy dress made for dancing, wearing a ton of shiny jewelry, and had a transparent veil over the lower half of her face. Unlike all of the brown-haired employees I had seen before, she was blonde. She looked so familiar. And once again I had a really strange feeling. I stared at her and she stopped and stared at me, a concerned look on her face. But the hostess grabbed my arm and pulled me through the curtain and I lost sight of her.
“Everything okay?” Fred asked. “C’mon, it’s comfy!” He was lounging on some cushions and held his arm up for me to curl up next to him.
I grinned at Fred sheepishly. “Sorry. Just had some weird deja vu or something...” I lowered myself onto the cushions. I had to stop thinking about those weird feelings—I was supposed to be relaxing! “Where are the menus?”
“No menus.” said the hostess. “Your food, and dancer, will be here soon.” She left, leaving us alone.
As any couple would, we took the opportunity to sneak in a few kisses. I nuzzled against him, feeling his body against mine, and tried to distract myself with thoughts of what we’d be doing after dinner. It had been a week since we had last had sex. It had been glorious—we had been staying at Lisa’s -
My eyes opened wide. “I.. I thought I saw Lisa!” I said.
“Who are you talking about?” he asked, furrowing his brow. “Lisa?”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Yeah, Lisa! Our best friend! We stayed at her house just last week! How could you forget her?” But even as I said it, I began doubting myself.
“Uh… are you sure you’re ok?” he asked. “We stayed at Aisha’s last week. Remember?”
And I did. Aisha was our best friend, and we had stayed the night after some drinking and had snuck in some sex in her living room as she slept. Now that I thought about it, who the hell WAS Lisa?!
“Never mind.” I said. “I’m just hungry. Oh good, here’s the fo—”
—
A girl, maybe a year younger than me, slipped through the bead curtain. She was beautiful. There was no other way of describing it. Her dark, coppery skin was flawless. Her body was lithe and athletic, with just the right amount of curves in the right places. And her halter top and long flowy skirt left almost nothing to the imagination—it hung onto those curves, making them impossible to ignore. She stared at us with bright brown eyes, first looking me up and down, and then my boyfriend. She seemed to like what she saw—I actually got a little bit upset at how long she stared at him. “I am Arwa.” she said. “I will perform the dance for you.”
And then music began, and she began to dance. She stepped up onto the table in front of us with bare feet, then swayed her hips to one side, then the other, along with the music’s beat. She raised her arms into the air, and the bangle bracelets clinked together as they slid down her slim wrists. She then let her hands trail down the air as she rapidly shook her belly. I stared at the rings she wore on every finger, glinting with the candlelight. She then leaned forward, causing the multiple necklaces she wore to hang forward and shake. All that jewelry looked so bulky, so uncomfortable. But on her it seemed so natural. As I stared at her, I caught her gaze, and she smirked at me.
I blinked a few times and looked at Fred. He was staring at her, a dull smile on his face, as he munched on some bread. With a start I realized that I had a plate in front of me, and was halfway done with my food and drink. How long had I been staring at her?!
She leaned toward me, staring into my eyes, and began to move her head back and forth in time with the beat. I could almost feel my eyes glazing over as I stared back at her. It was just so easy to watch, so easy to stop thinking, so easy to just let the music overwhelm me. Her head moved gracefully, left and right, left and right, back and forth, back and forth.
Suddenly I realized that I was sitting up, staring at her, and my head was also bobbing back and forth, matching hers! I felt my face flush with color and I relaxed backward, embarrassed. I looked over at Fred and he gave me a doopy grin—he had seen! He’d never let me live it down. I looked down for some more food, determined to concentrate on anything but the dancer, but my plate was gone.
The dancer reached down with slender, beringed fingers and tilted my chin up to look at her. She then began to sway back and forth luxuriously, her fingers running all over her body, touching every bit of jewelry she was wearing. It was so much. So many rings, so many bracelets, so many necklaces. I never wore jewelry. I hated rings in particular, I could never feel comfortable in them. I fingered the ring on the middle finger of my left hand as I stared…
I blinked and looked down. Not only was I wearing a small ring that I had never seen before, there was more jewelry on a platter in front of me! It was so similar to hers, golden and gleaming. I began to get up, but again she took my head in her hands and smiled.
“Wh.. what’s happening?” I asked. The words coming out of my mouth were soft. “I… I don’t want to wear this…” I looked down and noticed that I had put on several more rings, and had slipped some bangle bracelets over my wrists. “You’re… You’re doing this to me…”
“Shhhh.” she said, putting a finger to my mouth. “Nothing exists but the music… and me.” She continued swaying, and again I was transfixed. Her dancing was so graceful, so beautiful. And the way her jewelry flashed and clanked as she moved was addictive. She took a few steps back, staring at me, a wide grin on her face. I knew that something was wrong, that I had to find a way to look away from her, but it was impossible—I was thoroughly under her spell.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she turned to face Fred, and so did I. It was only then that I realized that I was on the small stage with her, wearing just as much jewelry as she was, and dancing to the music with her.
Of course, I was nowhere near as good. While she was graceful I was uncoordinated and stumbling, but no matter how much I hated dancing, I couldn’t force myself to stop. The music, the lighting, the aroma, the feel of the jewelry on me—it all somehow made it impossible to stop. I was sure that I looked incredibly strange in my t-shirt and jeans next to her, but Fred simply stared at the two of us, transfixed.
“Almost done.” said Arwa. “There’s no going back now.” And she began pulling her halter top off, mid-dance. And, to my horror, I began doing the same thing! We both tossed our tops to the floor. She was wearing nothing underneath; her breasts bounced freely as she swung about in time with the music. I found myself undoing my bra, and soon my breasts were jiggling just as freely as my body undulated to the music.
The next step was clear. She pulled down her skirt, revealing that she was wearing nothing under that either. Her bare, cleanly shaved pussy was on display for Fred to see! “No!” I said frantically, “Please!” However, I couldn’t stop my hands. I reached down and unbuckled my jeans, then slid them off. Along with my panties.
Finally, she reached behind her head to undo her veil. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she reached around behind me to tie it to me. “And now…” she said, “I think I’ll have a bit of fun.” She stepped off the stange and sat on Fred’s lap.
The music continued, and I was forced to continue to dance to it. But Arwa was apparently under no such compulsion. She wrapped her arms around my boyfriend and moaned happily. “I’ve waited so long for this day!” she said, grinding against him. “Tonight is the night I leave. Now, put your seed into me, to complete the spell!”
I watched with horror as she unbuckled his pants and leaned down to wrap her lips around his cock. “No!” I cried, “Fred, please wake up! You’ve got to help me!” But he just stared at me, still grinning dumbly, seeing but not observing.
The girl turned to face me, straddling Fred. And she slowly lowered her pussy onto his cock, dripping with her saliva. She moaned as he slid into her, and she began to fuck him, up and down, in time with my dancing. He sighed with pleasure, and I heard him moan my name. “Mmmm… Abigail…”
Tears ran down my cheeks as she bounced up and down his long length. “Ohhh, he’s QUITE good.” she said, “I shall treasure him.” She continued to fuck him, up and down, in time with the music, her strokes becoming longer and longer, taking more and more of him into her with each beat. “That’s right, boy. Spill your seed into me, and forget her.” She turned her head to kiss his neck as she fucked him. “Make the whole world forget about her, and remember only me!”
The music reached a fever pitch. Sweat dripped down from me as I danced my ass off, and from them as they fucked. I realized that sweat wasn’t the only thing covering me—wetness dripped down my legs from my bare pussy. I was watching a girl steal my boyfriend and my life, and I was getting off to it.
The two threw their heads back as they came together. “Ahhhhh!” he shouted, “Arwaaaaa!” And with that, he forgot about me.
The music slowed down, and Arwe dismounted from him. She reached for my clothes—my beloved tomboy outfit—and began pulling it on, taking off her excessive jewelry as she did so. And as the music came to a stop, I reached down for the skimpy skirt and top she had discarded and began to pull them on.
Fred finally came to his senses. “That was… amazing.” he said, flushing red as he realized what he had just done. “Are… are you sure it’s ok that we did… that… in front of the dancer?”
I reached for him, desperate to hold onto my man, but a voice at the bead curtain stopped me short. “Abigail. Come. Your next table is ready.” I immediately went to the hostess, my body moving against my wishes. As I left, I heard them talking.
“It’s fine! She’s just a dancer. Now let’s go home and fuck some more.”
“Sure, Arwe-honey. love you.”
I knew I would never see them again.