Muse

Tiny jewels had been placed on her body perfectly in vibrant India fuchsia pinks, purples and oranges, their reflections sliding across the royal hall, coating the marble floors and rich curtains that hung from the ceilings.

A strong drum beat echoing around her, as her body stood in front of thousands.

Diamonds hanging from her ears and dangling softly from her stomach erotically.

She could feel her rhythm building as her hips rotated teasingly to the beat.

Her toes pointing.

Her head thrown back, as her body moved for her.

The very few items that she had about slowly being shed by her delicate fingers.

Purple jewelled knickers.

Orange jewelled bra.

Men’s eyes following her every move.

Devouring her every turn.

Her every curve, as her body opened to the climax of the drums.

Twisting and rising to her challenge.

Her body now a maze of desire and lust, as she shed her knickers like a second skin from her petite hips.

Shouts and whistles looming as whispers in her mind.

Her hands now peeling away her bra.

 Her hands now covering her exposure as she teased more.

Twisting and turning with large black feathers, her body creating a hidden barrier.

No eyes allowed to lay upon her most hidden crevices.  

The soft beam of a singular spotlight rotating on her hips and stomach as the fire burned behind her, pushing and whirling her shadows onto the men that now lay captive to her dance, as snakes were released to her stage.

Their hissing creating tiny goose bumps to form over her body in paths.

Her feet tiptoeing through and over them as they curled up her ankles.

Up her thighs and around her stomach.

Her body shaking and jumping into mid air, her body more alive now than ever as the snakes crawled over her naked body.

She was the men’s muse.

As she turned further in the firelight.

 

© Copyright of Charlotte Thorpe