haremfaery
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Sep 10, 2009
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{Set sometime in the 1980's]
Barbara Brooks sat alone at a table for two at the edge of the dance floor. The room was large and done up lavishly in jewel tones and golds with pierced lanterns hanging from the ceiling. It was meant to look like some exotic Middle Eastern interior. The walls were painted with trompe l'oeil curtains pulled back to show a garden oasis. It blended into the real curtains in the back that looked like tents along the back wall with one side open so those inside could see the dance floor. Inside, the "tents" had low divans with round brass tables in front of them for communal eating. Occupants could lounge on the divans while they ate. It fed into the decor and Orientalist fantasies of the opulent and decadent East.
Barbara enjoyed her succulent lamb with honey and almonds while waiting for the band to start and to see her friend perform. She felt a little self-conscious sitting there all alone, but she was an independent girl. She sipped her wine as the band tuned up and began to play a popular song by Warda. Barbara tapped her foot to the beat.
She was on vacation in London before starting a new job in the Reference Department at the big County Library back in the US. She was staying with her friend, Kathy, who lived in a poor section of London that was quickly being taken over by starving artists and performers of all types looking for cheap rent and easy access to the Tube.
Kathy was an American. She had been a language major in college and got a great job on graduation with Marriott Corp. Now she was living in London learning the ropes, preparing to climb the corporate ladder, and working as a belly dancer on weekends. That's how she and Barbara met. At a Master Class in Philadelphia. They became fast friends travelling to Master classes from New York to DC. Now here was Barbara in London waiting to watch her friend perform.
There was a rather noisy group in one of the tents. She could hear lots of female laughing and giggling. Drunk socialites, she imagined making a face. She hoped they piped down when Kathy performed. She knew Kathy would get her up to dance so she had carefully chosen a sleeveless black dress that hugged her curves. It had a low neckline, but not that low. It promised more than it delivered. She wore her favorite shoes for clubbing. Even though they had 4-inch heels, they were comfortable. She could dance all night in them. She wore her red-gold hair loose in waves to the middle of her back. She liked wearing her hair long, she just wished it would grow longer. She loved tossing it around when she danced. She had gone much heavier on her makeup than she normally would, but knowing she'd be on the dance floor with Kathy, she decided to go heavy on the eyeliner and red lipstick. Normally she went with a more natural look, or no makeup at all, unless she was performing, then she went all out with what she called her Drag-Queen face with Cleopatra eyeliner, gilded lids, false eyelashes and heavy stage-makeup contouring.
Her waiter came over and asked if she wanted a refill on her wine. She covered the glass with her hand and asked for water instead. Her meal was being comped, but not her drinks and she wanted to save her money for touring around.
The band got louder and Barbara heard clang of finger cymbals, a telltale sign that a dancer was about to emerge. She sat up and gave all of her attention to the dance floor.
Barbara Brooks sat alone at a table for two at the edge of the dance floor. The room was large and done up lavishly in jewel tones and golds with pierced lanterns hanging from the ceiling. It was meant to look like some exotic Middle Eastern interior. The walls were painted with trompe l'oeil curtains pulled back to show a garden oasis. It blended into the real curtains in the back that looked like tents along the back wall with one side open so those inside could see the dance floor. Inside, the "tents" had low divans with round brass tables in front of them for communal eating. Occupants could lounge on the divans while they ate. It fed into the decor and Orientalist fantasies of the opulent and decadent East.
Barbara enjoyed her succulent lamb with honey and almonds while waiting for the band to start and to see her friend perform. She felt a little self-conscious sitting there all alone, but she was an independent girl. She sipped her wine as the band tuned up and began to play a popular song by Warda. Barbara tapped her foot to the beat.
She was on vacation in London before starting a new job in the Reference Department at the big County Library back in the US. She was staying with her friend, Kathy, who lived in a poor section of London that was quickly being taken over by starving artists and performers of all types looking for cheap rent and easy access to the Tube.
Kathy was an American. She had been a language major in college and got a great job on graduation with Marriott Corp. Now she was living in London learning the ropes, preparing to climb the corporate ladder, and working as a belly dancer on weekends. That's how she and Barbara met. At a Master Class in Philadelphia. They became fast friends travelling to Master classes from New York to DC. Now here was Barbara in London waiting to watch her friend perform.
There was a rather noisy group in one of the tents. She could hear lots of female laughing and giggling. Drunk socialites, she imagined making a face. She hoped they piped down when Kathy performed. She knew Kathy would get her up to dance so she had carefully chosen a sleeveless black dress that hugged her curves. It had a low neckline, but not that low. It promised more than it delivered. She wore her favorite shoes for clubbing. Even though they had 4-inch heels, they were comfortable. She could dance all night in them. She wore her red-gold hair loose in waves to the middle of her back. She liked wearing her hair long, she just wished it would grow longer. She loved tossing it around when she danced. She had gone much heavier on her makeup than she normally would, but knowing she'd be on the dance floor with Kathy, she decided to go heavy on the eyeliner and red lipstick. Normally she went with a more natural look, or no makeup at all, unless she was performing, then she went all out with what she called her Drag-Queen face with Cleopatra eyeliner, gilded lids, false eyelashes and heavy stage-makeup contouring.
Her waiter came over and asked if she wanted a refill on her wine. She covered the glass with her hand and asked for water instead. Her meal was being comped, but not her drinks and she wanted to save her money for touring around.
The band got louder and Barbara heard clang of finger cymbals, a telltale sign that a dancer was about to emerge. She sat up and gave all of her attention to the dance floor.