go go nymphettes

Thinking about this week’s Illustration Friday theme “dance”, I remembered an experience in my life that I’m quite sure up to now I must have repressed.

A bit of background…
I love dancing, can’t get enough of it, I’ve loved it as long as I can remember and I do it any chance I can get (except at gigs cause that’s uncool). I bop around the kitchen (while I’m waiting for my toast to pop), I love watching it and I love learning new ones. I loved learning how to tango and now I really really want to learn how to rock’n’roll dance (if I could just convince Mr You…)
You could say I’m mad for it!

So, when my friend Fi called to ask if her and a friend (lets call her Gwen) could stay at my place, as they were going to a dance workshop nearby, and would I like to come too, I was pretty excited. This was back when I was still at Uni and Fi went to Uni in a different state. I was excited to see her, to meet one of her new friends and of course about the prospect of dance. Fi is good fun but also has a lot of dignity, so when she told me the dance workshop was called “Go Go Nymphettes” I knew it wasn’t going to be any smutty thrusting or pole dancing. She told me that Gwen had done it once before and loved it.

To be honest I didn’t really know what to expect of “Go-Go Nymphettes”, I was thinking Dee-Lite or Kylie in gold hotpants or something cute and a bit “kitten” if you catch my drift.

It was all planned, then I got a call from Fi at work right before I was about to leave to meet them. She said Gwen had told her a bit more about it, and that she didn’t think she was up for it as she was a bit tired (she may have even told me she had a headache), but Gwen would still meet me as planned.

I found a lady who matched Gwen’s description, introduced myself and together we went to find this “dance” workshop. (Note at this point I start to implement sarcastic quotation marks around the word “dance”).

It was in a big hall, only 5 of us plus the teacher, all women. I was the only one who hadn’t done it before. They all looked like nice prim and proper office workers. We got changed into our “dance” gear, I had track pants and a t-shirt, the others didn’t. One wore pantyhose over her undies and a bra, and nothing else. A little perplexed, I just thought she must have left her gold hotpants at home accidentally… at first.

Oh, I don’t even know how to describe what when on next, other than to say I couldn’t believe it lasted for TWO AND A HALF HOURS, and I still to this day don’t know why I didn’t walk out or how I managed to contain the uncontrollable laughter that I had to purse my lips hard to constrict.

If I did have to describe it to someone I guess my synopsis would be something like:
Eyes Wide Shut Orgy meets “Interpretive Dance” for those who are loooong overdue for a damn good shag, and spend waaaaaay too much time alone and horny.

The bits I do remember were such wonderful moments as:

1 - One at a time having to “move” from one end of the room to the other expressing the music through “movement”, (from memory because I was new they wanted me to go first to give me a chance to “express” cleanly). I did a safe but snappy step touch, step touch click jazzy kinda thing (thinking you can’t go wrong with a step touch). The bits I clearly missed were completely ignoring the beat, having my eyes closed, rubbing my hands all over myself while moving like a jellyfish being washed up on the shore and moaning, loudly. (I was already mentally preparing myself to make a run for it when the candid camera crew burst out from behind a curtain. It never happened.)

2 - Having to pair up, one gal lying on her back with her eyes closed, the other gal taking hold of her ankles, pushing them up towards her body and then away from it over and over, rocking the reclining gal up and down as though she’s being shagged. Oh, and more moaning, eyes closed of course. (KILL ME NOW!) I remember when I was the rocker having the teacher tell me to put more “thrust” into it, and when I was being rocked I lip-synced the sound parts, all Milli Vanilli like.

3 - The one I found most unforgettable was an extension of this. When it was my turn, laying on my back with my eyes shut as tight as I could, they were now apparently trying to connect with my body through sound and movement. The teacher prompted them to connect with the outer layer of my body; they played with my hair, blew on my skin and rubbed their hands over me.
Then the teacher prompted them to connect with my muscles and tendons; they massaged, someone twisted their finger between each of my toes, and they rolled on me, all at once. But it got worse. The teacher, now getting in there with them prompted them to connect with my bones and organs. I WAS TERRIFIED. They pulled my arms and legs, and twisted my head and kept on rolling on me until the whole group was a giant ball of slow squirmy worms and had manipulated it’s way (with me inside) all around the room. The teacher in there too whispering into my legs and hips “Bone Bone Bitty Bitty Bone” AARRRRRHHHHH


I can’t believe I’m telling you this, I’m freaking out just writing it! No wonder I have personal space issues – I’m injured people. Damaged by those freaky succubus’s.

Then just when I thought the hell had come to an end we had to sit in a circle and “CRITIQUE” THE WHOLE FREAKY EXPERIENCE, FOR ANOTHER HALF HOUR.

This is when the “teacher” chose to tell us that she was actually an academic writing a thesis on the ways women explore their own sensuality and pleasure zones without the influence of men.

Was she experimenting on us!????

By the end I was wishing there HAD been a pole! (I think I may have said that out loud too).

Don't get the wrong idea (if that's possible), it wasn't actually an orgy or even smutty, it was actually all just way too "earth mother goddess" for my liking. Ladies who like to connect with their inner Gaia and all that.

Afterwards Gwen and I walked home, silently and awkwardly. I was in shock and she could tell I was contemplating dashing to a tabloid to sell my exposé for a wad of cash.

We got home. Fi had been at my place reading a good book and chatting to Mr You. As soon as we came inside she could see the despair in my eye, and I could see the guilt in hers. Nothing was said. I showered for a very long time.

The very moment they left the next morning I burst out laughing. I laughed and laughed uncontrollably for what would have been at least 20 mins. I was in pain from laughing so much. I leaked a bucket load of tears all while Mr You now laughing along but not knowing why, watched on. All I could mutter to him through my hysteria was “Bitty Bitty Bone!”