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Saturday, September 11, 2010

The Gypsy Dancer by Elyzabeth M. VaLey

The gypsy danced with ease. Her long black hair fell around her in soft curls as she twirled. Her hips, covered in a revealing flowing burgundy skirt, swayed and rolled. His thoughts strayed and he pictured her over him. He’d lift his body trying to enter her, but she would seductively avoid him. He’d grab her hips firmly and pull her against him. She’d relent with a sigh of satisfaction.

Ashton blushed at the sudden erotic onslaught. Taking a deep breath he tried to enjoy the girl’s dance. The gypsy stepped closer to him, her tambourine moving in rhythm to the bells on her ankles. His loins stirred at her closeness. Flustered, he looked at her bare feet. He envisioned her sprawled on his cot, her tanned legs spread open for him. He would be between her, slowly kissing and licking each of her toes. She would giggle and squirm but he’d hold her still, and continue teasing her. He would make a path with his tongue that roamed from her ankles, to her calves, across her thighs and finally concluded in her moist center. She’d be wet and wanton, her breath labored. Her supple body would buck uncontrollably as she begged for more. He would comply and delve deeper inside her, drinking her sweet fluids.

He shook his head, frustrated. What was wrong with him? He’d never had such a reaction to any woman.

Still dancing, the woman looked directly at him and smiled. His heart danced in his ribcage. Her body was sinful but her smile belonged to an angel. How could he have had such thoughts about her body, when clearly this woman, this goddess, deserved veneration?

Oblivious to his scrutiny, the gypsy raised her arms and his eyes immediately fell on her bosom. She entwined her hands and shook the tambourine. Her moves caused her breasts to jiggle and his mouth to become dry. Unexpectedly, she swooped to the floor and he caught a glimpse of her cleavage. His breath hitched in his throat. She continued dancing, but he paid no attention to the complex routine. His cock twitched and Ashton daydreamed. He saw himself ripping her bodice. Her full breasts would spring out, her chocolate colored nipples already hard. Beckoning him to take them, he’d lower his head and suck, lick, nip, and feast on them like there was no tomorrow.

Passing a hand through his fair hair, Ashton groaned. Why had he even stopped to see the gypsy dance? He had been on his way to the castle to beg for another mission, when the crowd of people and the chimes of bells had stopped him in his tracks. Then he had seen her: a raven-haired beauty dancing for some coins. All his thoughts about being a soldier and protecting the kingdom had fled with the wind. Instead, his body had taken control over his mind and he had imagined this woman dancing naked for him, forever. He shifted, uncomfortable. Nay, it had been more than his body speaking. His heart sung at the sight of her. Gods, he had even imagined the children: a boy and a girl, they’d have her dark locks and his fair eyes.

The gypsy danced closer to him and he smelled her hair. Wild and sweet, like strawberries, peaches, and a storm over the sea. He closed his eyes to the performance, ignoring it all together. In his mind he saw them lying together, their limbs entwined as he pushed into her with tenderness. As her moans of pleasure increased and her nails dug into his back, he’d thrust into her, hard. He’d nip at her neck, her special spot, and she’d come undone, her orgasm triggering his own climax. Then he’d take her into his arms and –

“You are absent, my love,” the sultry voice broke his thoughts.

He turned to the woman lying next to him, and kissed her deeply. His hands roamed over her body, reveling in the feel of her naked skin.

“I was remembering the first time I saw you, my love.”

Ariadna, the gypsy woman, his love, his wife, laughed.

“You have no idea how I lusted for you, how I yearned to get closer to you. It took me days to court you, you know?”

“I can imagine, love, for it was much the same for me. After I saw you in the crowd watching me dance that first day, I knew that forever my dances would be dedicated to you, that my wandering soul had finally found home,” she whispered in his ear. Her sensual voice and warm breath consumed him. The rasp of her teeth on his earlobe caused his cock to jump with vengeance. Her hand circled the growing member and she giggled, clearly amused at his rapid rise.

Ashton grinned. With a playful slap on her rump he rolled Ariadna over and helped her settle over his wanton cock.

“Now, dance for me, my gypsy love, dance.”

About the author: Usually shy and quiet, with either a book or notebook nearby, at first sight you might think that Elyzabeth is nothing more than a hard working student. However, at closer inspection, you might discover that behind her serene demeanor she might be concocting an elaborate fantasy of love and desire.

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