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With no musicians she had to rely on the sounds of music echoing in her soul. So she picked up the tambourine and let the drum beats in her body call to her. Rising, naked, the long, luxurious, fiery tendrils encircled her lusciousness as her hips swayed side to side, her pelvis rocking to the sound of the drum in her head. Hands reaching to the tri-moons of Gor, her palms turned inward, waving like veils in the breeze, her dark eyes seductive as they rested on her Master, then pounding the tamborine against thigh and hip. Licking her full, wine-hot lips, she clicked her tongue in a beat as the nail of a delicate finger trailed over her breast, down the curve of her belly, to the mound of the goddess. She touched her breasts and their ripe fullness spoke to him. She moved her hands over her hips and her belly, the diamond in her navel sparkling in the firelight as her curves glistened with moisture from the dance.She bent forward, her glorious, flaming mane askew on the floor as she. This isn't going to be easy."She looked at me again and I looked back at her. She was wearing a black sweat shirt and black pants. She had all of that long shiny black hair tied back in a pony tail that went halfway down her back."You need to change into some dark clothes," she told me. "Hurry up."So I went into my room and changed into some black pants and a black sweater. I wondered what Squirt had in mind.When I got back into my living room, I almost died laughing because my gorgeous 20 year old soon to be sister in law had put on one of those joke shop Groucho Marx noses, with the bushy eye brows and the mustache. "We're in disguise," she said laughing.We went outside to the parking lot. "Where's your car?" she asked. I led her over to my Red 2010 Roush Stage 3 Mustang GT. "There's no way we can drive that tonight. They'd see us from a mile away, and probably hear us too. What is this any way, your Pussy Wagon?" My what!" I sputtered."You know; your leg spreader. Your make out.
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