"John Norman - Gor 22 - Dancer of Gor " - читать интересную книгу автора (Norman John)

eyes of the men I knew. In them there had seemed an incredible
intelligence, a savagery, an uncompromising ferocity. In those eyes,
in that fierce gaze, I had been unable to detect reservations,
inhibitions, hesitancies or guilt. He seemed to be the sort of man,
and the only one of this sort I had ever met, who would do much
what he pleased, and take what he wanted. He seemed to carry with
him the right of power and lions. I had no doubt that he was totally
my superior. There had been, however, I think, one explicit
consequence, or residue, of that incident. I think it served,
somehow, in some way, to trigger a resolve on my part to do
something which for me, if not for other women, required great
courage. It brought me to my lessons. For months before, I had
toyed with the idea, or the fancy, or fantasy, the idea first having
emerged after I had seen myself in the mirror on that incredible
night in my room, of taking lessons in dance. I had almost died on
the phone, making inquiries about these things, and more than once,
suddenly blushing crimson, or, from the feel of it, I suppose so, had
hung up the phone without identifying myself. I was not interested,
of course, in such forms of dance as ballet or tap. I was interested in
a form of dancing which was more basic, more fundamental, more
female. The form of dance I was interested in, of course, and this
doubtless accounted for my timidity, my hesitation and fear, was
ethnic dance, or, if you prefer, to speak perhaps more
straightforwardly, тАЮbelly dancing.тАЬ Happily it was always women
who answered the phone. I do not think I could have dared to speak
to a man of this sort of thing. Like most modern women I was
concerned to conceal my sexual needs. To reveal them would have
been just too excruciatingly embarrassing. What woman would dare
to reveal to a man that she wants to move, would dare to move,
before those of his sex in so beautiful and exciting a manner, in a
way that will drive them mad with the wanting of her, in a way that
shows them that she, too, has powerful sexual
needs, and in her dance, as she presents and displays herself,
striving to please them, that she wants them satisfied? Surely no
virtuous woman. Surely only a despicable, sensuous slut, the
helpless prisoner of her undignified and unworthy passions. In the
end I called up the first woman, again, on whom I had, some days
ago, hung up. тАЮHave you done belly dancing before?тАЬ she asked.
тАЮNot really,тАЬ I said. тАЮYou are a beginner?тАЬ she asked. тАЮYes,тАЬ I said.
I had not really thought much about it before, but




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it seemed there must then be various levels of this form of dance. I
found that intriguing. тАЮI understand it is good exercise,тАЬ I said.
тАЮYes,тАЬ she said. тАЮNew classes begin Monday, in the afternoon and
evening. Are you interested?тАЬ тАЮYes,тАЬ I said. I had said, тАЮYes.тАЬ That
affirmation I think, did me a great deal of good. I had publicly