I’ve always loved belly dancers, I think they are sexy as hell and over the yrs I have convinced my wife to give it a shot. She always thought it would be a nice idea but never keen on exposing that much of herself. A few months ago, about half a year, I went down to a local Arab store, in some downstairs slightly smelling of marijuana type premises. The intent was to buy my wife a nice belly dancing costume. She had already started to learn and was going to be involved in a performance so I thought a nice, and I mean real nice, costume would be appropriate.
The shop was dingy and dark, it took me some moments before my eyes had adjusted. When I could see however I found a store full of interesting things, knives and silks, tea pots and hookahs. The proprietor was an obese man in a white galabia, traditional Arab attire, he had a mustache to make used car salesman charming and immediately greeted me, though I was not sure if he wanted my business.
He asked if he could help me find something however and so I told him of my wife and her upcoming performance and he asked me of her skin and hair colour, eye colour and build. His English was thick and his terminology was crude at best. I was more than slightly taken aback when I told him my wife was of medium build though she had some nice curves as his only response was “Her titties man? How big are her titties?”
Eventually stripped of words I showed him a picture or my wife which I carry around and he only shook his head saying, “You are ignorant man. I cannot fit her from picture.” He pulled two outfits off the rack and showed me the bust of each. His large fist didn’t fit into one cup on one outfit and had significant spare cloth on the other. “Belly dancers must be sensual. Must fit well into outfit. Bring your wife I will show you.” And with that he ushered me to the door and up the stairs.
When Mary, my wife, got home that night I told her about my plan and how I was going to surprise her. “Silly,’ she said, ‘you don’t have to do that, and besides these outfits hardly have ‘real’ sizing. I would need to try them on to make sure they are a good fit.” I admitted that the shop keep had said the same thing and that I had a lot to learn about belly dancing but I also told her that some of the outfits he showed me were incredibly sexy.
Mary giggled and scratched my neck, “You’ve been thinking naughty thoughts about me in my belly dancing outfit haven’t you?” she mocked. “Alright, tomorrow night then we can go in and I can try on the whole store. But don’t blame me when we spend too much money.”
The next night I led my wife into the dingy store, the same immense man was there, his greeting was short to me again but longer towards my wife. “Ahh welcome, welcome, your husband told me you were looking for some nice clothes.” He led her into the store, his hand rather low down her back. I found a seat on a small ottoman covered in cloth to watch my wife parade around in all sorts of garbs.
My wife and the store keep were talking avidly as he led her through the store picking out various outfits. Several times I lost sight of them and once heard a playful giggle before my wife came out from behind a stand, flushed and smiling. When my wife had several outfits, probably closer to ten, she entered the changing room, which was no more than a curtain on a circular rail. The store keep ignored me as my wife changed, in fact he paid a lot of attention to the curtain. Soon my wife came out and stood in front of me, garbed in a sexy black and silver number. I noticed her large breasts filled the top a little too well as she posed for me. Then after some comments from the shop keep she returned to the changing room and a short while later came out in a different outfit.
This time I stood agape. The outfit was tight, and bright, drawing a lot of attention to her large breasts. “Hmm,’ the shop keep hummed as he thought, ‘not quite right, too tight as well. Take off your top, we will try another.” My wife didn’t even pause, she reached her hands behind her back and unsnapped the top. It came open to reveal her large breasts clad in a very thin bra. “Silly girl,’ the man clicked his tongue, ‘You can’t wear bra with belly dancing. Take it off.” This time she did hesitate but only for a moment because the man clapped loudly.
“You want a good fit. Take it off.” Slowly she reached behind her back and removed her bra. Her bare breasts revealed to this old man in the dank store. Suddenly I was very worried about someone else walking in, before I realised that she was still topless in front of a stranger.
“Girl,’ his voice was very authoritarian now, ‘dance for me, show me how you move your belly so we know what kind of top you need.” Slowly, reluctantly my wife started to undulate her stomach, rolling her belly the way she was taught, topless and sexy. I could feel my cock harden.
As my wife was dancing the Arab man was speaking to himself, “Yes, that’s it. Very nice.” His obvious arousal could be seen through his galabia. He watched for a few moments before stepping forward, “No, here,” he said, placing a large hand in between my wife’s naked breasts, “do not move.” He held his hand there while placing his second hand on her stomach, somewhat low, then my wife started to undulate again. It was a strange sight to see, my pale wife with his dark hand in between her breasts and kneading her stomach.
“Yes, much better.” Leaving her while smiling he went into the back of the store and returned a short while later with a new outfit, top and bottom.
“This one should be a good fit.” He says handing her the top. Quickly my wife tries it on, then the shop keep hands her the bottom while he is standing in between her and the changing room. “Well hurry girl, I don’t have all day.” Reluctantly, slowly my wife pulled her bottoms down, this whole time I had been enjoying the show, and my wife’s discomfort. I know I shouldn’t have but it was so interesting to watch.
When the Arab man saw my wife’s panties he yelled and stomped his foot, “No, silly, silly girl,’ He bent over and quickly slid his fingers into waist band of the panties and quickly slid them down. My wife was shocked to say the least, ‘No panties in proper belly dancing.” Very, very quickly my wife turned around and bent over pulling the bottom of the outfit on. I don’t think she realised this at the time but as she bent forward her pussy lips could be seen between her legs, giving the large man a quick flash, they glistened with moisture and I could tell she was aroused.
When the bottoms were in place she stood up and turned around again the Arab man admired her for a short while before he gestured for her to dance. Slowly my wife started to dance again as the older man watched, “Yes,’ he moaned at one point, ‘Good girl. You dance well, and your pale skin would be very popular with gentleman from my homeland.”
He started to dance in front of her almost grinding against her while he continued to talk, “I tell you, I give you dancing job, you can learn lots more. My friends and I meet up once a week. You dance for us.” None of it was a question and my wife just nodded along. As soon as she agreed he moved in closer, this time I knew he was rubbing against her and I could see her eyes go wide.
“That outfit suit you well, you buy that one. But we try another.” He stepped back and opened a cabernet. With care he removed a silver outfit, made almost entirely of metal links. Each link had a medallion on it with different pictures stamped into the medallions. “Strip, we try this one.’ As my wife slowly pulled her top and bottom off, leaving her completely naked in front of this stranger he continued to talk, ‘This outfit for private show. You wear for when you dance for my friends.”
Mary dressed in the outfit, her large breasts fit nicely into the top and I noticed a gap in the links and medallions about where her nipples were. The bottom was of similar construction, links with medallions, it had a section which strapped around the top of each leg and the Arab man helped her adjust these while he caressed her legs. I had not done anything as he had obviously hit on her and watched her naked body because for some reason I was not processing this as my wife but as a sexy belly dancer.
He then helped Mary adjust her top which involved pulling her breast out and quickly sucking on the nipple, making it wet and slightly hard before fitting it back into her top with her nipple poking out the hole hardening to fill it. When he did this with her first nipple she gasped and went to say something but it was done so quickly that by the time she opened her mouth to talk it was over. He then reached over and did the same thing with her other nipple, this time Mary closed her eyes and almost sighed.
It didn’t take me long to realise that the chain links were now pinching her nipples and every time she moved they seemed to caress her. The Arab man motioned again and she started to dance, slower this time and every time she moved her eyes would close as the top pinched her sensitive nipples. Slowly the shop keep walked around her watching her as she danced.
“Yes, good girl. You dance well.” He joined her then, dancing in his ungainly way and slowly he danced around her watching her. I could see he had a hardon and was amazed at the size of it and the slowly developing wet spot in his galabia. When he was behind her he moved in closer and started to grind against her. Mary’s eyes opened momentarily, I think as she felt his cock but then she closed them again and continued to dance light sighs escaping her lips.
The shop keep’s hand ran down her sides and back up, tugging slightly on the top and causing my wife to gasp. Then they slid down again and massaged her arse, getting a good grope as his hands did this I watched as he deftly parted his galabia to reveal his large cock. I’m not going to guess at its size but it was massive. He then slide his cock between the tops of her thighs to rub against her pussy lips and pulled her into him.
