Her dance was deliberately provocative. It had been passed down, by the hands of Mother Nautch, from nautch girl to nautch girl and its secrets lay not in its visuals but in its use of psychology - to delicious affect.
In the lurid semi-darkness of the bed chamber there was shadow play at work. The curtains were drawn and swift movements afoot. Wedges of her body seemed to melt into the shadows and then reappear just as suddenly. Flash of thigh, glimpse of navel, dash of arm, glint of teeth–all curiously strobe like in the hung darkness. She flung her hips from one end of the room to the other like a lasso. She leapt from one corner to another; her shawls dicing, her arms slicing, her flesh inviting. With hands on waist, chin up, she appeared curiously defiant–I'm not that easy. The dimpled flesh on her neck and shoulders was exposed and beads of sweat had formed and were trickling down the groove of her back and into the cleft of her arse. This turned him on; the damp patches under her armpits, the dribbles between her breasts, the rivulets flowing down her ankles.
She was undoing her brassiere now, watching him as she un-hinged the strap and deftly removed the cups, exposing her breasts. Then grabbing the straps of her bra she wound them twice around her neck and tightened the grip like a noose - pretending to asphyxiate herself with the bra. All the while she kept watching him for a reaction and bent her knees; moving up and down on her haunches, simulating the moment of entry. He went for her. And this time she obliged his weakness. He grabbed the bra strap and tightened it further round her neck and she looked up at him expectantly. He could have strangled the bitch right there and then and she would have let him–control, the ultimate aphrodisiac.
Her eyes were lingering all over him waiting for him to do something. He kissed her full on the lips and squeezed one of her breasts, fingering the coarse nipple with his thumb; feeling it harden and erupt. She bit him cruelly on the lips - a metallic taste on his tongue. Her sexual proclivities turned him on. He shoved her against the wall and loosened his trousers; they fell to the floor. She grabbed his cock and began stroking him with her red fingernails. Grabbing her from the waist he flung her violently on to the bed. The force surprised her but she was turned on by his strength and his desire not to be taken advantage of. He grabbed her legs and yanked her towards him. She wasn't going anywhere. She didn't resist. He pulled off her remaining clothes and then there she was - naked. And then he fucked her. She clawed pleasurably at the bed sheets, snatched at his thighs and scratched his arse raw with her fingers. Sometimes she'd snap out of her frenzy and look straight at him; look straight through him, as he fucked her. Looking for that moment of truth. Once when he glanced up he saw that cherubic tot smiling back at him from the top of the bed rest; he laughed and almost lost it. But her hand yanked him down for a kiss and he was saved. He felt her passion. He felt her want. He felt her muscles tighten their grip from inside.
They lapped against the shore like a wooden boat; the crests rising and rising, until finally in a jangled crescendo they crashed against the rocks and the waves flooded over them- flowing calmly back out to sea. The tempest over, they collapsed like a heap. He kissed her forehead wiping the sweaty beads that had accumulated in her furrows with his palm. Her eyes were closed and she was already falling into a deep sleep. He closed his eyes too, and forgot the world for a while. The flesh satiated for now.
An hour later they made love again. But this time it was not as rapacious and selfish as before. They took there time and they took turns, responding to each other; to each others needs. He entered her from behind, watching the ripples in her arse spread to the flabby folds in her waist. She turned her head around and watched him screw her, and then she whimpered in his ear, requesting that he fuck her harder. He had liked that: The polite request.
Later they washed together in the bath; sponging each other down, tipping tepid water from a jug, and then she dried him with a towel as he sat on the rim. She giggled as she dried his back, his legs and then his crotch as if he were a baby. Then she bent double on her knees and sucked him off. He felt as if he was going to be lifted off his feet. She liked pleasing him that way and she had told him so, and those words were precious because they hadn't made him feel guilty.
And then she noticed his nipples...
