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Part Two- The Dance
August 23- Belarus, Greece
While Professor Chase cleaned herself up in the Cairo Airport restroom, I opened the scroll case we had liberated from the Egyptian Arms Dealers. The scroll, thought to be an ancient text documenting the first commands of Osiris to the King of Egypt, was actually written in a tale written in Latin about King Dionysius and his friend, Damocles. I had heard the story before as a child, but what I found so unique was the specific dates and places of where the sword went after it left Dionysius’ possession. It seemed to suggest the sword was real.
“Hey Professor,” I shouted into the restroom drawing stares from the Arab women around me, “I think we may have grabbed the wrong parchment.”
Three hours later we had cancelled our trip back to the states and landed in Athens, Greece where Professor Chase had colleagues who were specialists in Greek Mythology. That was two days ago. Having more of a background in Asian myth than Greek, Professor Chase finally got bored with me and gave me a different assignment. Renting a scooter, I headed along the coast to the little town of Belarus. Off the road about a quarter mile, I stumbled across a small outdoor bar atop a cliff overlooking the Mediterranean. Picnic benches sat under spider webs of Christmas lights while a bartender inside a wooden hut served any sort of non-touristy drink you could imagine. I bought a bottle of Ouzo, the house specialty, and rented a shot glass to appear civilized. A portable stereo gave soundtrack to the sunset over the water.
I was five fingers into the bottle when a woman walked into the clearing. The other couples and friends seemed to ignore her as she stepped up to the bar and conversed with the bartender in Greek, but I found I couldn’t look away. She was about 5’2″ with curly black hair, thick and long. Her peasant shirt was unbuttoned at the bottom and gave peeks of a flat stomach as she moved to a bench. She straddled the wooden seat, her floor length skirt stretching across the wood as she sat. A large blue pendant rested on her breastbone against dark olive skin. She had bought two shots and downed each in quick succession with no fanfare or hesitation.
She stood back up and stepped into the empty space between the bar and the benches. Though I had noticed it before, the music seemed more pronounced as she closed her eyes and traced the notes in the air with her hands. The music was Greek, but I noticed a samba tempo. She swayed to the bass, her hipbone jutting out from under the shirt with each thrust. Her sandals kicked up the dirt as she moved. Bangles clattered around her wrists as her hands waved in front of her. She used a darker lipstick then the girls at college liked to wear and I couldn’t help but watch as she licked the droplets of liquor off her lips.
I stood up. The locals may have been able to ignore her, but I could not. I moved in behind her with her eyes still closed and matched the sway of her hips. I took a step closer and she looked up at me. I put my arms out beside her and let my hands find the music. She danced escort ankara into me, turning back around. She leaned back, resting her shoulders on my chest and I could see the faintest hint of cleavage down her shirt. I could smell jasmine on her body and licorice on her breath. I brought my hands down to her hips feeling the fabric of her overhanging shirt.
The song threw in an unexpected bass beat and she thrust her backside into me. I felt the firm curve of her bottom against my manhood. She flexed a little before swaying back away. On the second beat I was ready and thrust into her, putting pressure on her hips with my fingertips. She didn’t pull away and we swayed together; left then right, forward then back again. I took her hand in mine and she stepped away and twirled. I pulled her close to my chest and could feel her inhale against me. My hand found her lower back and we stepped in time together. She looked up at me. I looked at her and she smiled. It was a big toothy grin showing off straight white teeth and crystal blue eyes. She slid down my body and I watched helpless as she moved away. I felt her hands on my chest, following her down to my belt. She then grabbed my leg along the inner thigh. The dance required me to step away and I hated it so.
I reached out my hand and pulled her to me. Our bodies collided as though they were never meant to be apart. She leaned back and I followed. My head just inches from her chest. The shirt clasped by only two buttons in the middle. Her hair nearly touching the ground. I put my hand on her back to bring her up and noticed no impressions of a bra. I longed to kiss her, but the dance wouldn’t let me. I wanted to do nothing to break the trance, yet I would take her on the picnic tables in front of the locals if she would have let me. She spun out of reach again and I sauntered to her. I noticed sweat along her brow as the last rays of sunshine said goodnight to the cliff. The song ended and I dipped her. Her limp body dangling in my strong arms.
“You are American, are you not?” She spoke in a strong accent as I pulled her up again. Her lips near inches from my face.
“Yes” I whispered. It seemed wrong to talk loudly when this close to an angel.
“I could tell.” She smiled. She turned in my arms and pushed her backside into me one more time before walking away.
“You mind?” She lifted my bottle of Ouzo and I shook my head. She took the bottle neck into her mouth and took a swig. Some liquor spilled from the side of her lips and she smiled before wiping it away with the back of her hand. She sat down and poured me a shot. “Are you going to let me drink alone?”
We finished the bottle and talked into the night. The locals finally disappeared back to their homes. The bartender closed up shop. Even the Christmas lights retired for the evening and I sat laughing with her in the moonlight. She talked with her hands and they communicated wonderfully. She grabbed my hands when we shared something in common, which was often. She pushed on me when I said something stupid, which was often. She stroked my face when the conversation escort etlik lagged and she put her arm over me when she wanted to laugh.
“It’s late.” She said while standing up. It was hard for me to digest the evening was over. I still felt I knew so little about her. I had no way to contact her. No personal information to find her. I felt like blabbering on how we should exchange phone numbers, but I feared ruining the moment. I need not have worried.
I followed her as we walked through the woods and back into the town square. She held my hand as she led me to a house in the woods near the town fountain. She led me to a doorway in the back of the house and put my arm around her from behind as she fished out the key. Our bodies never stopped touching after that. I nuzzled her hair and wrapped my hands around her waist. I heard the click of the lock and she turned to say something, but I kissed her. Our mouths opened automatically and our tongues continued their conversation. She walked backwards into the house but we never broke our kiss. I felt hands on my shirt and it was pulled over my head. I gently undid the two buttons of her shirt. It fell away to reveal an almost flat chest with two small dark nipples that poked out at least half an inch above tan dark skin. I took one in my mouth and flicked the hard little nub with my tongue. I sucked and kissed at her breast running my hand over the other one and playing with the nipple. The zipper of my jeans came down.
I stood up straight as her petite fingers pulled my jeans and my boxers down together. She ran a hand along my inner thigh before cupping my scrotum. My hardness bobbed in front of her, straining against it’s own confines. She ran her palm along the underside of my shaft and then brought her lips to the head, now dripping with precum. The air in my lungs escaped me as her lips parted to engulf me. She pushed her lips forward and with agonizing deliberance slowly took the entire length into her mouth. I held my remaining breath as her nose nuzzled my pubic hair and I could feel her tongue hard at work. She scratched at my balls as she withdrew. A wet smack was heard as I left her mouth and she licked the head over and over like an ice cream.
I pushed her back on the bed as I dropped down to lift her skirt. Long, muscular legs gave way to back thong panties so small I was almost sure she had put them on backwards. Tufts of black curly hair stuck out from the fabric. I kissed her inner thigh. I put my hands under her knees and hoisted them to my shoulders. She was leaning back on her elbows and she threw her head back and laughed as I bit her thigh close to the panty line. I slipped a finger under the elastic and pulled it aside. Her hair was curly and thick matching her head. I kissed her between her legs, finding her lips wet and ready for me. My tongue traced the path to her clit. I pressed my tongue flat against it. She fidgeted under my lashing. I moved my flat tongue up and down her slit. My fingers finding her ass and lifting her up to me. I grazed my teeth over her and escort demetevler she let out a little gasp. I pushed my tongue deep inside her and licked her clit from the other side. She bucked and squirmed under me. I slipped a finger to her asshole and she screamed. She quickly grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up to her.
I felt my hard-on press against her wetness. I kissed her and our bodies moved in unison to connect. I was inside her in a simple movement, buried to the hilt. My pubic hair tangled with her. We both do not move for a moment. I looked into her eyes and saw her need mirrored alongside my own. I pulled out until the head of my cock was stretching her open again then I plunged into her with a reckless abandon. I thrust into her with animalistic fervor. Her feet came up and pressed against my upper chest, giving me deeper access. I slammed into her. The smell of jasmine mixed with sweat and sex. Her head thrashed back and forth and little moans became loud guttural grunts. I too lost the ability for coherent noise and grunted like a dog as I took her. Her body arched wide like when she was dancing; her nearly standing on her head on the bed. Her hands smacked the mattress again and again as she cried out in Greek. Her vaginal grip on my dick tightened and she screamed out in orgasm. I never relented as she went on and on. Her body involuntarily convulsing with each shudder.
“Pl-please, cum inside me.” She gasped, bringing both legs back to her head. I lost all sense of control and patience. I let out a low scream and buried myself in her as I came. I could feel the cum escaping my dick in large spurts. She reacted to each pulse. Finally, I collapsed on top of her. Her legs moving around and gripping me one last time.
I found her hand in mine as we awoke sometime later. A small symbol of an upside down ‘T’ was tattooed on the inside of her left wrist. I looked over at her sleeping form. She was still covered in a sheen of sweat from a few hours ago. The skirt had been taken off in the middle of the night and lay across the foot of the bed. I sat up.
“I never did get your name?” She said suddenly. I looked down at her noticing the faint muscular lines that trailed from her abs to between her legs.
“Talia” She said getting out of bed. She stood up and began walking away. Her taunt, firm ass swaying as she walked into the bathroom. “Coming?” She said without looking back.
“In a minute.” I assured her. I saw the blue pendant she had been wearing the night before on a dresser by the bathroom. I picked it up. It was etched on both sides with ancient Greek symbols. I pulled some parchment from my jeans pocket and a crayon. Placing the paper over the pendant, I made a rubbing of each side before folding the parchment back up. Talia Menopolus, daughter of Nikos Menopolus, Minister of Foreign Affairs. The necklace had been a gift by an Egyptian dignitary. It had been found at a dig in Cairo but contained Greek symbols, so the Egyptian government felt the need to return it as a token of good faith. With any luck, these markings will aid the scroll in pinning down the location of the Sword of Damocles. I slid the rubbings back into my jeans and returned them to the floor as I heard the shower start. I went into the bathroom and closed the door. Today, Professor Chase would have to wait for me.
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