Saphiras Dance

He was a regular at the restaurant, having started coming after Saphira began dancing there.

She had danced at a local street fair, an annual event held in mid June to celebrate the coming of tourist season. She was a great success, drawing curious onlookers from throughout the festivities during the three days the event was being held.

One of the people that had come to watch her dance was an older gentleman, rather short and round who took a very keen interest in her. It was the last day of the festivities, about 2 hours before scheduled closure.

He stood there watching her, totally involved in her, watching her every movement, his eyes glued on her -- nothing else. Watching him watching her, she was amused by his trance-like state as she swayed and shimmied, dancing close to him at times, arching her back, doing her figure eights and belly rolls. Although amused at first, she found that she enjoyed his interest in her, performing the movements that she thought he would enjoy.

Afterward, she began to pack up her things as the band members bagged and cased their equipment, carting them off to the various vans and cars.

He came up to her afterward, with halting, embarrassed steps, unsure of how to approach this obviously very stunning and erotically, sensuously talented individual. With a sheepish look on his face he complemented her on a very beautiful performance. Although he felt awkward, he smiled a big, warm smile at her through lowered eyes, which had the desired effect of causing her to smile back warmly at him, thanking him for his enjoying her dancing. She also noticed that he would occasionally, hesitatingly look down at her navel as if embarrassed to admit that he enjoyed looking at it.

She had a rather large navel, deep and oval, softly curved with a soft, rounded "pillow" that it sat on -- reminiscent of a ruby sitting on a page's pillow, being carried in a procession -- a very sexy navel, or so she hoped. She loved having her navel gazed at, and admired. She got the distinct impression he would have loved to have seen more of her navel. In response to his obvious enjoyment of her "attributes", she tossed her head, causing her lovely cascade of dark hair to move like a field of wheat blown by a soft summer breeze. Then, arching her back, her hands behind her head, she began to shimmy her belly slightly, her hips swaying slowly, watching his reaction.

His eyes glued on her belly, she watched as his mouth dropped open, absent-mindedly holding his stomach, his body shuddering as she swayed slowly before him, her eyes twinkling in satisfaction at his obvious pleasure. Her waist, her belly -- shaped like a "bell".

The little "dance" finished, she smiled at him again, winking at him. Then, just as he was about to turn and leave, she reached over, grabbing a card from her bag and handed it to him.

"Here," she said, smiling, "This is the restaurant that I'll be dancing at, come this Friday. I've just been hired on there. You can come and watch me dance."

Thrilled beyond words, he beamed at her -- his whole body reflecting the joy glowing from his face. His voice stuttering, he thanked her for the card -- enraptured by this "goddess". Slowly, he backed away from her, not wanting to leave her, wanting to stay with her, wanting to watch her as she moved, as she walked, as she stood there smiling, wanting to enjoy her very sensuous, perfect waist/navel, wanting to listen to her belly "ring" like a bell, as he kissed it.

Not realizing it was there, he almost tripped over the railing along the waterfront. Recovering just in time to avoid falling into the bay, he stood there, panting, still miraculously grasping her card. She, laughing with a laugh reminiscent of bird song, caused him to blush as he hid his red, glowing face from her at his dimwitted, adolescent clumsiness. This in no way detracted from endearing him to her, however. Giggling, she came over to him, taking his face in her hands and kissing it softly.

"I'm glad you're ok" she said to him. "I'm glad we didn't have to fish you out of the bay," she said, giggling, her hands holding her tummy.

"Me, too!" he said, laughing with her. "It's too early in the season for a swimming date, wouldn't you say?"

"Not a bad idea!" she said, winking. "I'll take a rain check on that."

He went home that evening, dreaming of watching her swimming and moving through the water in her skimpy bikini; her lovely, deep navel winking back at him as the water sparkled and flowed across, caressing her lovely, sensuous navel/body. He experienced the sweetest of dreams that night, waking to find that he had been holding his pillow, his arms wrapped around its "waist" with a wet spot on it where he had been kissing its "navel."

She found him to be a regular at the restaurant -- just about every Friday, from 6:00 to about 8:00. He was out in the front row, watching her dance, involved in her every movement, shivering and excited as he observed her doing her back bends, her navel prominent, her back well arched, her hips shimmying and moving gracefully as she skillfully drew in her audience, her biggest fan sitting before her.

She LOVED having him in the audience. She knew of only two times when he did not appear and figured it was on account of work. It excited her, thinking that he inwardly worshipped her body, hungered for her navel, to touch her, to kiss her, to brush his face over her soft, undulating belly. As she watched him, she would do her back bends, lifting her navel higher and higher, inwardly feeling his lips as they brushed over her soft, mounded navel, his tongue teasing her navel rim as he slowly pressed it deeply into her soft, shimmying navel. At times, the vision in her mind was so stark and clear, she almost forgot where she was at in the dance, her pretty waist shivering with erotic pleasure at the thought of his enjoying her navel.

After the dance, it was such a let down. Feeling sad that he wasn't there, she would pack her things away in her dressing room, and slowly wander home -- walking the two blocks to her house, petting and feeding her cat, holding it, feeling it nuzzle into her tummy, wishing it was his face that was nuzzling against her navel.

Sighing heavily, she would take her nightly shower. Then, clean and refreshed, she would climb between the soft sheets of her bed, her feet caressing the soft, crisp-feeling material, wishing he was there to lie his head on her stomach and wrap his arms around her waist as they slept in each others arms, his lips gently kissing her navel throughout the night.

Her eyes wide open, staring into the diffused moonlight trickling through the Venetian-blinded window, she would imagine what it would be like to have him in her arms, to dance for him, combing her hands through the raven curtain of her dark hair, to watch him lose control as she kissed his lips with her navel.

She had gained her name, Saphira, because of the Star Sapphire that she wore in her navel and on her costumes. She LOVED star sapphires. She loved the deep blue color followed by the prominent star pattern glowing from the stone. Her costumes were generally deep blue in color with the occasional gold or red costumes.

Tonight, however, her costume would be deep, rose red -- with a shimmering ruby glistening from her navel. She had worked up this dance just for him, a dance that included lots of arching and back bending, doing everything that she saw him enjoying, to cause this guy to totally lose control of himself.

She WANTED him to lose control! She HUNGERED for him to forget himself and to touch her, to hold her, to want her. She purposely designed her costume and the ruby in her navel to entice him to want to remove the gem with his teeth. She even anchored the ruby in her navel using a dab of honey to hold it in. It worked quite well, while also adding a very tasty touch to her navel.

She remembered watching movies where the man would gaze down fondly at the girls navel as she placed an item of food into it. It would excite her as she watched him dutifully nibbling the tidbit from her navel as she arched upward, the girl obviously enjoying his mouth on her. Saphira HUNGERED for her "fan" to do the same to her -- she DREAMED of times filled with him worshipping, kissing, loving, tasting her belly/navel as they made love on a moonlit night -- unable to be satisfied with just one night of loving her, tasting her, but craving her incessantly. She craved to have him unable to control himself but hungering to run his hands slowly around her waist, to feel his hands pressing deeply into her soft, convulsing belly, to feel his fingers tickling and adoring her navel/belly as he took her in his arms -- to feel his face pressing into her shuddering belly as he tasted her, experienced her, DRANK her.

Through the "grapevine," she had discovered today was his birthday. She had planned for weeks on this, perfecting her dance to do exactly what she wanted it to do, to entice him into her arms, once and for all -- to drive him insane, to make him ache to take the ruby from her navel, and to return it later. It was her birthday gift to him, and to herself -- to have him in her arms, his head resting on her tummy, holding her waist and kissing her navel, rather than his pillow; having her sleeping on him, rather than sleeping on her pillow.

The lights dimmed slowly, red lights casting a deeply sensuous hue on the floor, as dry-ice "smoke" rose lazily into the air. Red veils slowly drifting through the air as she danced, she moved like a serpent, with slow, undulating movements, her eyes fixed on him, as little finger cymbals kept time to slow, erotic Egyptian bellydancing music, her toe and finger nails colored in a matching ruby color with fine silver glitter catching the light. Slowly swaying her hips, she moved hypnotically towards him as she slowly performed her navel rolls noticing his eyes transfixed on her waist. Causing her belly to shudder, she slowly caressed her hand down her waist as she watched his eyes widen, his mouth drop open as he shuddered uncontrollably to her movements -- aching inwardly to pull her belly deeply into his face, to taste her, to possess her. Arching her back, she slowly dropped to her knees, bending backward, her arms gracefully moving through the air like the arms of a Hindu goddess as she arched her back, her navel protruding on that erotic navel pillow of hers.

Coming near to messing up, she almost doubled-over herself, as she fantasized about his tongue slowly pressing deeply into her navel, causing a HUGE erotic sensation to shoot like a lightning bolt through her belly. Slowly, she undulated her belly, performing her navel rolls as she moved to entrap him. Her navel shivering, she arched upward, elongating her soft, siren belly, ruby sparkling with tiny red rays, as his mouth watered, watching her navel raise up, being offered to him, the taste of her skin dripping with honey in his mouth.

His mind aching, reeling, confused and lost in fantasy, he watched unable to believe what he was seeing as she slowly, gracefully straightened-up; her arms high in the air as she moved slowly closer and closer to him, his mouth dry, his throat dry as the Sahara as he watched her "floating" toward him. Moving like a snake, like a reed in the wind, she gyrated -- the music filling his ears, exploding in his brain as she moved her navel closer and closer to his face. A warm, loving smile on her face, she took his trembling hands in hers as she gently, slowly placed them on her waist. Her arms high above her head, her back arching she swayed as his hands worshipped her soft sides, caressing her soft sides as his heart exploded in his chest, his breathing coming in shivering gasps as she pressed her navel against his lips, kissing his lips with her navel. In a deep trance, he slowly wrapped his arms around her waist as she gasped uncontrollably -- feeling his teeth moving against her navel, taking the ruby into his mouth, devouring her navel with his teeth.

His arms burning, his mouth burning, an explosion of honey took place in his mouth, against his tongue as his body erupted in fire for her, his whole being involved in aching, clawing desire for only her as she held his hands in hers, swaying and flowing, pressing his hands into her soft, warm, curvy sides -- the red from the lights heightening his animal blood lust for her.

Her dance finished, she slowly drifted like a dandelion seed to the floor, draping her body back across her legs as she bowed before him, her lovely face lain back, her arms outstretched to him, her hands crossed high above her head, her belly heaving with her exertion -- having given her best performance to him alone as he held her ruby in his hands, his heart beating a wild tattoo in rhythm with her own. The crowd in the restaurant exploded in cheers and hand claps as she slowly rose up, taking his head in her hands and kissing him passionately on his face -- his whole body shivering like a leaf in a hurricane as she whispered in his ears, "Happy Birthday, Baby!"

With heavy pats on his back, and words of "Good Going, buddy!" and "Congratulations" and "You DOG!!!" he drifted, walking in a dream state to her dressing room, still lost in her dance -- everybody gone. A cautious, hesitant knock on her door, she opened it willingly as she pulled him inside, closing the door and pressing her body against his as she kissed him as he had NEVER been kissed before, all her desire and passion enveloped in that one solitary kiss. His world totally turned topsy-turvy, in a total dream-state, he held her possessively in his arms as he felt her tiny, creamy body pressing against him, unbelievable passion and desire for her wrapping around his mind like a muffler, his hands caressing her bare, sweet-soft skin as she pushed her navel into him.

Stammering and stuttering, he offered to give the ruby back to her. Laughing and giggling, she took him by the hand as she led him out the door, turning off the lights and closing the door behind her, leading him to her place where he watched her repeat her performance to imagined music, her house dark with moonlight cascading through Venetian blinds, soft deep shadows playing across her sensuous, naked belly as his fingers tickled her skin softly, brushing his lips hungrily over her navel -- worshipping it, loving it, tasting it as he watched her arch her back, lying on her bed, as his pelvis erupted in clawing need for her, to be in her, to be one with her as her navel elongated and deepened, moon shadows drifting erotically across her belly/navel/body as she gave him his birthday present -- as he tasted her from head to her pretty little ruby toes, as naked and lying in each other's arms, he tasted deeply in her navel and worshipped over every single INCH of her soft tummy/belly as he made love to her, filling her very soul, his mouth and tongue, wine in her mouth, possessing every inch of her pretty body as they made love.

Their bodies spent, exhausted, bathed in a sweet sweat from the exertion, they collapsed -- him lying between her naked legs, his arms around her curvy, soft waist as he pressed his face deeply into her sunken, shivering tummy -- a sweet, supple "dish" to lie his head on, as he kissed her navel softly -- all through the night.

For the rest of their lives they would be:

His little Star Sapphire -- Saphira.

Her Sultan Halide, her ultimate fan.

Halide:

There was a little park across from her house. Despite its quaint loveliness, nobody ever seemed to frequent it.

It was closed-in and sheltered by sweet smelling bushes and flowers, hidden from the roadway and houses that surrounded it.

She lay there, wearing a high tied-up shirt and "daisy duke" cutoffs, bare legs and tiny feet -- her pretty dark hair framing her face like a halo as I sat, perched on top of her, straddling her legs.

With large, beautiful eyes, she watched me, a little-girl grin on her face as I lazily plucked grass blades and dropped them, making sounds like an airplane and a bomb drop -- deep into her navel, listening to her light-hearted giggling.

How INCREDIBLY SEXY, her navel! Large -- she has one of the LARGEST navels I've ever SEEN! Deep! She loves it when I poke my finger deeply into it -- I have to STRAIN to push my tongue in far enough to touch the base of her navel -- that's how incredibly DEEP it is! And, OVAL -- so very sexy, with a softly curving rim like a goblet, that dips DEEPLY into her incredibly sensuous navel!

And her WAIST!!! It's a true WASP WAIST! Oh, so very tiny!!! So sweetly deep in comparison to her hips and chest -- a sweet, succulent wasp waist! So very rare! So very EROTIC, so very SIREN-LIKE! Her navel is like a rosebud placed in the center of this curvaceous hour-glass -- like a small, gold chalice placed in the center of her hour-glass waist -- a cup holding the sweetest of wines.

Here I was, dropping things into her navel, listening to her giggles as they tickled her tummy -- clover, dandelions, little flowers, grass -- dropping them onto her tummy/navel and becoming lost in the sweet, musical giggles from this LOVELY Angel.

Occasionally, I would pick a honeysuckle, pulling the stamens out, picking up the little drop of nectar on the end, and touch it to her navel rim -- or drop it inside. Now-and-then, I would give her a taste of the sweet nectar hanging on the end -- the honey taste.

I watched as she moved, as her soft belly moved, that sweet rounded area of her tummy where her navel sat, moving slowly as she rolled her navel or swayed slowly, watching my eyes worship that lovely little bauble in the center of this sweet roundness, as she would pick flowers and drop them onto her tummy, giggling, her eyes dancing.

Lazily, feeling the soft warmth of her waist against my chest, her body pressed against mine, I would cover her tummy in "stuff", and then slowly pick everything out of her navel -- baring her navel before I would begin to touch my tongue to her navel rim.

Kissing her navel, brushing my lips slowly over her navel, I touched my tongue to it. I was gratified when I felt her belly/tummy leap into my face, the grass tumbling off as she pushed her navel DEEPLY into my face/tongue. A deluge of honeysuckle flooded my mouth as my tongue licked up the honeysuckle deep in her navel. Holding my head, guiding it as she rewarded me by arching and pushing her soft, pretty belly deeply into my face, she groaned softly as I brushed my lips, my face, my mouth and tongue over her navel -- devouring her soft navel, drinking it, eating it, worshipping it as she softly belly-danced for me -- holding my head against her soft, warm belly.

Arching way back, all the rest of the grass falling off, she arched her back. With a groan she placed her hands above her head as she started swaying quickly, shimmering and jittering, figure eights, shimmies, everything, as she belly-danced -- watching my hungry eyes; hungry to taste her, to devour her to make love to her as she thrilled me with her undulating, dancing navel/belly.

Moving so fast I could hardly SEE her navel, I started tickling her soft sides, feeling them move in my hands, watching as I destroyed her concentration, as she grasped her soft, pale belly and began laughing, giggling as my tickling took hold -- tickling her sweet, creamy sides and watching her navel/belly jitter.

She quickly took revenge, though, as she rolled me over, uncovering my stomach and blowing on it -- then tickling it and softly nibbling on it, as I grabbed her soft, deep waist, pulling her like a rag doll onto me, kissing her passionately as I softly, gently tickled her tummy.

Reaching her hands deep inside my shirt, she tickled my sides, my stomach, my nipples, all over me, with her fingers as we rolled in the grass like school children.