This is a semi-true story from a vacation I took in Turkey earlier this year. Parts will be fiction, and I will let it be your task to find out which parts are true and which aren’t.


The show was just about to start. It still surprised me why there weren’t any more people in the audience than the twenty-something people that had arrived. Judging by the looks of it, there were seats for at least fifty, maybe sixty people in front of the stage. Maybe there wasn’t that much of an interest in the up-coming belly dancer?
As a man, it is natural for me to find such a dancer alluring. Even more so when said man has a certain interest for women from these countries. Going to Turkey had to be one of the greatest ideas I’ve had in quite some time, and so far it had been worth the money. I was due to return back home two days from now, and after hearing about the belly dancing show, I was determined not to miss it.

The music started, and the dancer entered the stage. She was a tall, slender woman, wearing black silks and veils, alluringly moving in tune with the music. Her long black hair reached down to her waist, and behind the veil she used to cover most of her face, I spied a pair of dark eyes, eyeing her audience. My gaze immediately scanned her physique, and I caught myself admiring her stomach. I have always had a thing for bellies, and hers was one that definitely caught my eye. Beneath the tanned skin I was able to spot her abs, most likely a result from many a year of this sort of activity. She certainly had a knack for it. I watched her move and sway, how her hips gyrated from side to side and how her breasts followed suit. She was moving like water, and I flushed upon discovering that I had been staring with my mouth slightly opened. I don’t know how long I had been doing so, or how much she’d been watching me in return, but it seemed that something about me had caught her attention.