Circles form around me, one ripple inside another, dancers and more dancers swim in the air this way and that, turning to liquid before my eyes as if seen through vapors, or under the influence of alcohol. Boy, am I intoxicated…
Some of them have generous curves, which drop ever so gently into their tight, fitted tops. Their embroidered hip belts are richly decorated, sewn with sequins and coins, and with a fringe of beads that is shaking—somewhat loosely—in tandem with the heaving of their breasts. Their wide skirts are flowing creations in glowing rainbow colors, made of sheer fabrics that are twisting over their harem pants.
Oh, sweet temptation! The way they move, the way they shimmy! The speed with which these girls swing the knees, somehow, while shaking their shapely thighs up and down, side-to-side, forward and back! And here, look here, the lovely undulations of this chest! Oh, I could go on and on, just make me stop...
Another girl calls me to follow her, follow the beat of her step. Yes, if not for the fact that my own lyre is broken, I would surely join in, I would play the music, dance the dance!
Then I would hug her waist, lean my tired head on her shoulders, and take in this sweet, arousing smell. Yes, I would bring myself closer into her warmth, her embrace, and forget feeling lonely. Yes, I must have her, because I am the victor! I deserve it all!
David in Rise to Power
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