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"Will this be a ventriloquist routine?"
Vanessa shakes her head.
"Are you planning to say nothing for all of whatever you plan on doing to me? Or for me?"
She nods again.
Well, okay. I'll just lie here and let her do her thing.
The skirt she's wearing has two halves, one that hangs down in front and another that hangs over her ass. A sequined strap holds the skirt up and reveals the sides of her hips. She's barefoot too, and she teased her hair in the sexiest way. The bra-like top barely covers those luscious breasts and features more sequins.
"You're going to belly dance, right?"
She nods.
Oddly, her refusal to speak makes me even more turned on. Dirty talk is hot, but her silence might just drive me insane in the best way.
Vanessa leans over at the foot of the bed and picks up a small portable radio, not quite a boombox, but big enough to accommodate a CD. We're showing our age now for sure. Nobody uses a portable CD player anymore. Do they? Ouryoungest daughterthinks anything that doesn't come with earbuds is completely old-fashioned and passé. April will find out eventually that everyone becomes an old-fashioned weirdo sooner or later.
My ex-wife sets the CD player on a chair at the foot of the bed, then switches it on. Belly dancer type music emanates from the small speakers, though they have surprisingly good sound for their size. Vanessa raises her arms and rolls her wrists to make her bracelets jangle. Then she bends one knee, keeping her toes on the floor, and begins to shake her hips in that way belly dancers do, dropping one hip repeatedly while she keeps her toes on the floor.
The swift movements make her breasts jiggle, and I'm going cross-eyed trying to watch her hips and her tits at the same time, incapable of choosing one or the other. How could any man choose? She has the most beautiful body in the world.
Vanessa sets her raised foot down and gives up on popping her hips. She stands still for a few seconds, then holds her arms waist height, elbows tucked, and begins to undulate her belly like a sensual cobra rising from its basket. I observe in rapt fascination while she holds her arms out to the side and turns in a slow circle while still undulating. I can't tear my gaze away from her belly and the little white jewel tucked into her navel. She has clearly timed her dancing to the music on the CD player, because when she started to undulate, the beat became deeper and attuned to her movements.
Do I have a hard-on now? I must be halfway there for sure, but I can't do a visual inspection of my dick right now, not when she's dancing for me.
She starts to lift her feet and set them down again, delicately, slowly, in rhythm with the music. Then she gives up undulating and instead swirls her hips while lifting and dropping them too. The motion seems almost like a figure eight, but I don't give a fuck about the pattern, not when she's dragging her finger down her breastbone and biting her lip. I'm struggling to catch my breath, and I know I've got a rock-hard erection now.
Vanessa tips her back just enough to give me a good look at the sensual curve of her throat. She spreads her legs a bit and lowers herself toward the floor inch by inch, in no hurry to finish her dance routine. She keeps on swiveling her hips and now undulates her shoulders too. Her lips have fallen open. She traces the tip of her tongue over her upper teeth.
I try to speak but only manage to splutter.
The front half of her skirt hangs down between her legs, and she skates her palms up and down her exposed thighs, taking her time, and never looking away from me. When she grasps her knees and pushes them wider apart, I get a glimpse of the hairs on her mound.
My chest is heaving. My cock feels like an iron rod.
"Remove the cuffs, Nessa. I need to get my hands on you right now."
She shakes her head, then drops to her knees and bends over backward to undulate some more.
"I'll have a stroke if you don't stop torturing me." Not that I mind this kind of torture, but I don't want to come all over the bed without even touching her.
She lowers all of her body onto the floor and lays there for a minute while the CD winds down. Her tits are heaving, just like my chest. Finally, she rolls onto her side and gets up, shuffling over to the bed, where she perches on the edge. "Want me to fuck you now?"
"Yes, baby, right now."
She reaches behind her back to unhook the sequined bra and toss it onto the floor.
I might be drooling. Her tits unleashed are breathtaking.
Vanessa hops off the bed just long enough to push the skirt over her hips and let it drop to the floor. Then she climbs onto the mattress and straddles my lap. For a moment, she sits there gazing down at me without saying a word. I'm about to open my mouth when she beats me to it.
"Time to ride the cobra, Craig."
"You're the cobra. The way you danced proved it."
She rakes her nails lightly down my chest. "I summoned the snake, but your cock is the serpent I'm going to ride."
