Talking It Up With Jill Ch. 05 Pt. 02

"Who is this...Cap-tain Under Alls?" the man asked.

"This one," she thumbed at me.

"I do not understand meaning," he replied

"Well," she said, "Let's just say that he was a very...mm...enthusiastic little boy."

"Husband?"

"Uh huh."

"For the belly dance?!"

"For anything," she said, suddenly letting out a laugh. "But especially hips," she added, placing the back of each hand on a hip and giving them a wiggle where she sat.

"Jesus Jill," I grumbed.

"Cool it."

"Ahhh," the man nodded. "Yesss the hips! They tell so much from a woman!" he mused out loud. "Well," he said, leaning over as if to get a better look at her, "good fortune for husband? wife has the hips to make the stone melt. This sexiest part is why, no?" he asked, addressing me again.

"It is in my opinion," I said.

"Mmm, me as well," he said, setting his glass down and filling it half way.

"You believe this guy?" Jill whispered quickly before taking a sip from her water bottle.

"I know," I whispered back, giving her hip a knuckle rub.

She giggled and scoot over, inadvertently tossing the water bottle up. I caught it midair on instinct and looked at her wide eyed. She went to grab it back and I played keep away until she folded her arms in disgust.

We were startled by the man's voice, which filled the room every time he spoke up.

"SO! Husband. You know why you want wife to take the class for dance. But does she?" he asked, looking from me to Jill.

"Right, um..." she replied, sitting there thinking.

I was surprised he was the one to bring the conversation back around, and thought perhaps he wasn't as intoxicated as he seemed. I took a long swig from my water bottle, giving Jill a knowing look out of the corner of my eye as I gulped.

"Mm, I don't know," she replied. "I guess for one I respect the culture behind it and-"

"Yes! And?"

"Aaaand..."

The man was leaning forward as Jill thought about it.

"Well I know men like it but..."

"Yes yes of course. You know this from moment before. However...I see is more to story for you than meets the eye! So why for you?... Insiiiiide," he said, raising his bottle and tapping the side of his head with the neck of it. "And here!" he added loudly, leaning back and using his other hand to thump his chest.

Jill was quiet, then took a deep breath as if to speak, then held it. She finally let it out with her explanation.

"It's empowering."

"Yes very good," the man agreed. "And?"

"It's empowering in a way, to my feminine side. And...I realized after my class that it's a way to express my inner self. My own creativity and self expression."

"Yes!" the man shouted, startling both Jill and I, which we turned to each other and smirked at. "You speak like my wife. She? would say same as you. This is very good." The man was checking out the rest of his bottle again. "The techniques remain same," he added, then looked at Jill, "but evvvvery dance is unique. And that? is because every woman!...is unique. So every dance is different, yes?"

"Mm, I suppose. I'm still learning the basics."

"Hmph... No matter. I see? Then I know. You do fine. Husband see? and before you know? their are cheeeldrin...all over the house," he added quickly, looking around himself for his shot glass.

"All over the house, eh? Hmm," I said, getting an elbow from Jill.

"All over the house," the man repeated. "And all SONS!" he shouted, again cheering to us with an empty glass.

At this she and I both laughed out loud. The man saw this and laughed with us. He held out the bottle, waving it to us.

"Come. We drink to all the lit-tle ones you soon make for husband."

"No," Jill replied.

"Noooo, come come come," he said, waving her over. "Here, please to give me bag," he said, motioning to the wicker bag on the stool next to the pedestaled column nearest us. "You have sip? I show you Didem."

"Who?"

"Didem," he repeated. "Ohhhhh husband would like. This one does," he added, holding his bottle against his chest. "She is famous dancer from Turkey. You will like. Come," he said again, waving Jill over. "Phone is in bag. I show you Didem."

"You don't have to drink anything," I said, nudging her to go over. "But this Didem sounds pretty cool. Check it out."

"Come," he waved again.

"Will you have any if I do?" she asked me. I nodded.

"Husband will like Didem also," he said, looking at me. "Maybe too much, if he is this Cap-tain Under Alls you speak of."

This got a laugh from Jill. "Uh oh!" she said, grinning at me.

"Come...bring bag," he said.

"You can show him the commercial for it," I said, giving her another nudge.

With a roll of the eyes she got up. She went to grab the wicker bag at one end but accidentally knocked it over, spilling the contents out onto the pedestal and floor.

"Oooh jeez I'm so sorry," she quickly said, stooping to pick up the items: his phone and what looked like some coins and toiletries and another small shot glass and a larger glass bottle.

The man got up and walked over to help. Jill stood up for a moment to see what he was doing. Like me, he seemed to be almost foot taller than her. She spotted several medallion sized coins she'd missed and bent back down to grab them.

"No, no. Is no problem," he said as he picked up his phone and took a knees spread seat on the pedestal across from and facing me as she made sure she'd gotten everything. She was to his left and my right between us, and in her squat position her left thigh was completely exposed, and directly in front of him. He stared down at Jill for several moments, not even glancing to see if I noticed. I couldn't blame him, but I know had she bothered to glance up, she might have shot me a look.

"I can't believe I did that," she said, picking up the last of the coins.

"Please no... You must not worry for this," he said as he fumbled with his phone.

As he was finding whatever, Jill held up the glass bottle.

"What's with all the...looks like olive oil?" she asked, holding up an intricately designed and from the looks of it about one and a half liter sized bottle affixed with a flip-top metal liquor bottle pourer. "I know it's warm in here, but enough to cook?" she asked.

"Ugh," I groaned. "That was awful."

Jill stuck her tongue out at me.

"Ahhh," the man said. "Is olive oil yes. In time of ehhh...leisure yes, I wrestle. Not here but home. Verrrrry popular there. Just like Didem. I keep bottle with me? so I always stay in...mmm...mo-tivation to do this. You like bottle yes?" he asked, holding it up between them.

"Yes it's beautiful."

"Yesss. I get this from last...o-pponent I beat? out of sign of respect to me. So it stay with me to keep the mind for when I have next opponent."

"Oh I'm so glad I didn't break it."

"Yessss," he said. "Would be considered no good luck and then worry to lose against next opponent. Or worse, man I beat who give to me."

"Well, what do you do with the oil?" Jill asked, shooting me a look. I made the same face back, although I had an idea.

The man motioned for the bottle and she handed it to him. "Before match...opponents will cover body...mm...not on head but, from waist to knee?"

"To make it harder to hold onto each other?" she asked.

"Yes you have it," he nodded, handing the bottle back to her. "Make verrry hard and match take much longer if not so easy to hold opponent."

"Hmph... Sounds tough," she said.

"Sounds very tough," I added. The man glanced at me, nodding.

"You look like you'd be good at it," she said.

"Not so easy," he said, staring down at his phone. "Not wise to judge for size."

Jill finished with replacing the bag's contents, then stood up and waited for the man to find what he was looking for. He glanced up at her and smiled, which she then relayed to me as we waited. I couldn't help consider the compliment she'd just paid him. She was right, but she was looking at his body, which was half naked and, if like me, not wearing anything under his towel.

"Here," he said, pouring her a shot of his hooch. "You have drink while I do find her."

Jill took the glass and smelled it. "Whewww!" she said.

"Is good. Try," he said, briefly looking up at her.

She timidly took a small sip, swallowed and made a twisted face.

"Nnnyelchhh!... What is this?"

"What's the bottle say?" I asked.

"Yeni... Raki"

"Too strong?" I asked.

"Mm, no, but the taste..." she said, handing me the shot glass.

I knocked it back. "M'eh. I like it enough. Little kick to it but, I could manage the taste."

"Yes!" the man bellowed. "Not too strong, but I have since I was boy. Good drink for relax in bathhouse whe- Ahhh! Here is Didem!" he said, handing Jill the phone.

It didn't take long for "Wow! She's incredible!" she gushed.

The man sat with his palms on his knees, fingers inward, nodding up at her. "Is Didem," he said simply.

"Louis, look at this. I think I could do this. I think..."

Jilll handed me the phone and I handed her back the glass. I couldn't believe my eyes. This woman was on her knees, laying all the way back against the floor looking like the ultimate limbo champion. Only, her arms were fully extended on the floor above her head and she wasn't scooting forward or moving anything but her abdomen, raising it from top to bottom as she shook her hips from side to side. It looked like water sloshing back and forth in a bathtub. It was incredibly sexy.

"Jesus," I said flatly, unable to stop looking. I couldn't help imagine Jill doing this. Her words still echoed in my head, and I knew I'd be requesting this later.

"Yessss," said the man. "Husband agrees uh?"

"I agree all right," I said, staring.

"All riiiight," I heard, and looked up to find Jill glaring at me.

I handed her the phoned. She snatched it from me.

"I was picturing you," I said, stifling a grin.

"Yeah yeah..." she grumbled. I lean forward and poked her hip with a wink and got a knowing grin.

"Ohhh," the man said, leaning to one side to view the screen as Jill held it. "Was not doing this when I first show you. This movement she does is more...ehhh, authentic style of Turkish belly dance... Your instructor...she not show you this?"

"Er...yes. I mean, no, she did not."

"Mmm," he nodded. "I see why husband looks as he does when he sees," he added, briefly glancing between Jill and I.

She looked at me again and I shrugged.

"That's floor work," she said as she looked back at the phone screen.

"Yessss," he said. "This is verrrry dangerous way of the dance. Is...ehhh...for-bidden...in some countries, and to show stomach like this."

"Really?" she asked.

"Of course," he replied. "Not agreed to by me. Or husband I see... But, in Egypt?" he said, shaking his head.

Jill handed the phone back to him.

"No no," he said, holding up his palm. "First, you show me this Cap-tain Under Alls. Then I help you move like Didem, after promise never to dance this way in Egypt. If put in jail I would feel...is my fault."

"Well," she chuckled, looking over at me and then back at him, "I doubt I'll ever be belly dancing in Egypt but,..." It only took her a few seconds to find a video of the old commercial. She handed the phone back to him.

There was the usual voice of women talking about their panty lines. The man was shaking his head as he watched.

"You have tele-vision...like this? When is this?" he asked as he continued watching.

"1977," I said.

"Ha!" Jill burst out laughing. "And he knows the exact date ladies and gentlemen," she added, leaning over to tussle my hair.

When the familiar "Doot! Doot!" sounded the man shrugged his shoulders up with a chuckle of his own.

"Now?...I know allll I need to know to explain husband," he said, nodding at me.

"Yeah you do," she laughed, looking over at me.

"To see this as boy? would have same...ehhh..."

"Effect?" I said for him.

"Yes! Same effect on...any boy."

"Thank you," I said, staring up at Jill. She stuck her tongue out at me.

"For me? Was dance that melt stone. As young boy I see that and very quickly my mind was lost. In-dian Tomb is nice, but I have aunt who do this....what you see Didem do here? for uncle and brothers?" he said, shaking his head.

"Well thank God this one didn't see that, or he might not be alive to talk about it," Jill deadpanned with another glare turned grin down at me.

"Yesss," the man nodded. "I see we have much in common, me and husband." With a bit of a sarcastic smirk she turned to set back down when he took her right hand. "Now," he said, putting the phone down as he pulled her closer, catching her by surprise. "You say you think you can move as Didem? So... we see how well you do this? or I show to you, yes?"

Jill took uneven steps as he brought her close enough to stand between his spread knees, so she was now sideways to us, with her left side to me. At one point he shifted enough to expose most of his scrotum. The towel he was wearing didn't look like one of the one's offered by the hotel, but rather a personal one that looked shorter and snapped in the front, and was thus not as all encompassing as the one I'd been wearing. Luckily Jill couldn't notice from her standing position or she might have been mortified.

The man's behavior would have seemed a little bold and inappropriate had his demeanor appeared any less serious about his intent, in as far as what he'd just said and was doing. Jill must have agreed because, unexpected and close as this contact suddenly became, she complied, only shooting me a brief look of "Okayyy?" as she allowed herself be positioned in front of him. As a precautionary measure she reached over and tugged at the towel's knot over her left hip, glancing at me as she did. I returned a friendly smile.

Innocent as his intentions were however, the sight of her standing before him like that, with so much exposed skin, wearing the towel turned mini skirt, bikini bra and hair wrapped up in a towel, was not lost on me. Being in her bare feet helped make it a sexy look.

The man placed his inwardly turned palms back on his spread thighs and looked up at Jill.

"Now to give try. But thiiiiiink and feel verrry careful of which muscle to use, then try. Yes?"

She waited a moment, not so much out of hesitation as it was to understandably get this difficult looking move correct. It was all abdominal muscle she was using to separately manipulate the top and bottom of her abdomen. She was doing okay with some of it in my opinion, which the man verified with nodding of the head and a downward turn of his mouth, indicating sincere impressment with her first attempt.

He leaned to one side, making eye contact with me. "A natural." Jill smiled at this and took a break.

"I think I'm getting it," she said, looking pleased with herself.

The man's next immediate move was to place his right open hand on her tummy and the fingertips of his left gently against her lower back. She let her head roll over to face me.

'Take a picture,' she mouthed with no expression. I couldn't help but chuckle and pretended to snap one off. That got a roll of the eyes and she refocused her attention on what the man was doing.

"First we show movement made in stomach? then you try as Didem and lie back, yes?" he said, not really looking for an answer because he was focused on Jill's midsection. She glanced over at me. I returned the look but only briefly. He began discussing which part of the abdominal muscles were involved, emphasizing each by making slight adjustments in where his hand was placed. At each one he'd ask her to attempt to manipulate that particular muscle. After several attempts he removed his hands. "Here," he said, picking up his phone. "I help you with proper music." Jill and I traded another look. After several moments there was a classic sounding belly dance type drum coming from his phone. It was a slow and measured tempo, almost relaxing in a way, providing for good background music for the quasi instructional setting.

"Tabla drum," Jill said.

"Yes! Tabla. You know this. Verrry gooood!" he said as he replaced his hands back on her. "If you say 'bon-go'? it would be insult." Jill looked mortified. "Ha!" he laughed. "I make joke to you. But is good sign you know correct in-strument for dance. You show great respect from beginning. Is good sign." Then to me, "Natural in body? and mind...the wife."

"Thanks," she said, looking over at me with a smile. "My instructor said the same thing, that saying it's bongo drum music is considered disrespectful and ignorant."

"Mmm, then yes... More and more? I am happy you have this instructor. What you listen to now? is Issam Houshan. He is best in world," he said, staring at his hands.

"I know that name!" Jill said, perking up. "That's the one...mm...he's the one the instructor played. Over and over to help us get used to moving the same muscle. Can I? Can I try and find it on there? I think I remember which one she was using for our class because it had a picture of him and the date on it."

"Of course!" the man said, happy at the cooperation from Jill as he handed her his phone.

"Is spelled-"

"I know," she said without looking up.

The man looked over at me with raised eyebrows. "She knows."

I chuckled back at him, nodding.

After a moment she found what she was looking for. A classic sounding belly dance drum beat began; not so loud as to take the place of a live instrument, or obstruct normal voice even, but enough so as to effectively contribute to the instructional Jill was getting. She and handed the phone back to him.

"Verrry nice, the one you find. Now, we try once more," the man said. Again he gently set his hands on her moved them each time she attempted to manipulate the corresponding abdominal muscle. From the looks of it, if done faster it would indeed look like the lady in the video. After several moments of this, he stopped.

"Okay," he said looking up at her. "I think you under-stand enough, so?...lie back and try like Didem.

"Um," Jill mumbled, looking over at me.

"No no, is okay," the man said, taking her by the hand and pulling it downward.

Jill responded by taking a side step away from him so she was standing sideways equidistant between he and I. He let go Jill's hand and again she tugged at both ends of the towel's knot over her left hip, which was to to my side.

Jill is certainly in shape enough to perform a slow and calculated limbo drop to the floor and then rising back up to a standing position using just her legs. She's pretty good at it actually, I've seen her do it at the beach. But while she was eager to learn the move, her willingness to comply as directed was obviously tempered by the fact that she was considering the present circumstances. This wasn't the beach. It was a steam room with just her husband and a stranger. It might have felt a bit forward. My instinct took over.

From my seated position I leaned forward enough to leave my seat and extended a hand, which Jill seemed to be waiting for because she took it right away with no objections.

"Thanks," she said.

We briefly exchanged looks, acknowledging the playful but friendly enough mood.

As the tabla music played she slowly lowered to her knees. When they reached the floor she gave me a confident smile of "okay" and let go my hand hand. Staring straight ahead and then up at the ceiling as she leaned back. She kept going until her shoulders rest against the floor, putting an arch in her back.

"Hmmm," the man nodded as he watched expressionless. "Not eeeasy this movement."

Jill acknowledged this with the slightest of glances up at him as she concentrated, still staring straight up above.

As we'd seen on the phone, she extended her arms above her head and rest them on the floor. Her rib cage and bikini bra covered breasts were thrust out, her tummy taut and smooth as it rose and fell with each breath. Her upper thighs were more exposed, the flair of muscle on each also taut and defined in this bent and spread knee position. The towel wrap on her head added to the overall genuine aura of cultural reference by so closely resembling a turban.