“Hey, Katie. I got your message. What are you doing in here? You ok?” Lisa speaks softly as she slides into the silent dance studio. I can hear the concern in her voice. It’s 9pm. The place is deserted, and Lisa knows something is up. I’m not meant to be here. I should be in my room, relaxing, having a drink, and enjoying one last night off like the rest of the cast.

“Oh god, Lisa. Thanks for coming. Sorry. I’m freaking out. Opening night is tomorrow, and I can’t stop stressing about this one dance. It’s so tough and the whole play pivots on it.”

“Oh, I can guess which one you mean. The one with you and Antony that closes the first half?” Lisa sits down beside me on the bench and lays a soft hand on my shoulder. I want to lean on her and cry.

“Yeah. It’s like nothing I’ve ever done before. I’m sure the director wants me to fuck it up or something. I’m a classical ballet dancer, and he’s thrown in tango, waltz, even fucking hip-hop moves. I know I can do it, but fuck, I can’t relax about it.” I sigh. “I wish I had your experience with all the modern stuff, Lisa. And I’m so glad to be in it with you, but I just so don’t want to let you all down. Maybe I never should have taken the lead role.” I spit out all my thoughts in one long train of words.

“Ok. Enough of that. We’re not spiraling into a pity party and indulging your nervous self-doubt the night before the opening.” Lisa stands and reaches out a hand to me. I take it, and she pulls me up to my feet. “Come on, Kates. You know you’ve got this. Just got to face the nerves. Play the music.”

I reach for the remote, skip to the right track, and move to face Lisa, ready for the intro.

“You’re Cleopatra. The most beautiful and powerful woman in the world. Ruler of all Egypt. And Antony is your lover, your soul mate. And he’s daring to resist you,” Lisa keeps whispering as we begin the first movements. “Now, forget the moves. Your body knows them. Trust it. Feel it,” she whispers, and I try to do as she says.

Soft harp chords and the sweet roll of a flute begin the courtship dance. I stand tall, proud and upright, filling my whole frame with the powerful physicality of Cleopatra. The two lovers display for each other; the genesis of a silent language. It’s a natural and easy seduction. Lisa portrays the strong, virile male as best she can, but it’s her tender, feminine fluidity that is the source of her grace. I find her instantly captivating as she dances. In a small pair of shorts and a bra top, Lisa wasn’t really dressed for dance. More likely she’d been ready for bed when she got my message. Yet even so, right here and now, she’s able to easily personify the statuesque and imperious Marc Antony, Emperor of Rome.

“That’s it. Feel your power, Katie. You’re beautiful, exquisite. Ruler of a great nation. Antony wants you, craves you, and you know it.” She whispers again as she’s closer now. The tempo of the concerto rises a little. The flute fades and is slowly overpowered as the string section rises in volume and power. The lovers play cat-and-mouse as they draw together, press and hold each other, and part again. Each time discovering, combining, and offering new parts, new sensations.

The ride continues, the lovers locking together now for the first time. Briefly, their hands seize each other’s bodies, and my palms settle tentatively on Lisa’s waist. I feel her body properly. I relish the tight pull of her abdominal muscles under my hands. I feel a tiny envy at the long powerful arcs of her legs and the perfect grace of her neck. My hands and eyes try to treat her with neutrality, as a simple dance partner like any other, but suddenly Lisa is a mystery to me. An enigma of perfection, beauty and intrigue.

“No! Stop holding back, Katie. You’re trying to conquer him. Antony is resisting you; you’re his forbidden weakness. You’ll be his downfall and his ruin, but you’re made for each other. Every part of him is desperate to have you, to be owned by you; all you need to do is draw him in. Feel it. The power, the lust.” Lisa’s breath flutters my ear as she grabs my hands where they sit, just below her waist, and clenches, grasping my hips to hers. “That’s it. Come on! You want to fuck me, own me. Make me feel it!”

The dance is picking up, and our heart rates follow. At moments, as he frees himself from my arms, Antony’s moves are a peacocking, elaborate self-display. He backs up from Cleopatra and spins and stamps to the pulsing, intense rhythm now. He pivots and hip-rolls in a flurry of fast, complex tango-esque flourishes showing his strength and form. It’s intensely robust, dominant. Lisa does her best to capture his essence, but her sensuality and effortless femininity burn too bright to ever be concealed. Without irony or self-doubt, she moves her body and plays the dominant lover with grace and ease. She’s a radiant beauty, and I feel suddenly full of love for her, for being willing to do this for me. I finally start to relax into my own moves, letting the music flow through me as I summon Antony back into my clutches.

We slide close together again, the pace still as frenetic, and the violins and strings are back. They symbolise our union, the erotic binding of our souls and bodies. This time my hands are more confident as I let my body be guided and contorted by Antony. The cellos and bass are adding depth and heat to the music. I feel it rumbling through me, resonating to my very core and mixing with the trembling effect of Lisa’s enchanting dance. Her frame feels strong and lithe in my arms, and she grips me firmly and tight, like an inflamed lover. I shake inside while I carry on, as the music and her scent fill me, transport me. I try to disconnect from myself and become Cleopatra, but I’m undeniably stuck here, in my skin and my own mind, unable to get past the reality of being so intimately pressed against this goddess.

“Now, time for the tease,” Lisa murmurs, her lips only a breath from my cheek, a wild smile across her eyes. I’ve brought Antony close, almost broken his resistance. His need and arousal are clear, and the audience should be enraptured by now, just as I am by Lisa’s sensual display.

“Go!” she signals. I whip around, spinning in her arms, the choreography playful and testing now. I press my back to Lisa, burrowing between her arms, grinding against her. I feel the warm swell of her breasts against my back. I arch and roll, half escaping, half inviting my lover’s embrace, feeling myself surrounded by her. Her arms enclose me, and for a tiny moment, I want the dance to be forgotten and to stay right here. My face turns back toward her, Cleopatra’s eyes seeking Antony’s. I dangle the invitation of a kiss before I steal it away again, just at the last moment. My hands flail back and roam the strong thighs behind me, and Antony’s hands roam my body freely, unrestrained. It’s the most brazen and sexual phase of the dance so far.

The orchestra is wild now, the tympany beating and pounding, the whole string section in full ardor. The symbolism is unmistakable. Antony steps up and takes the challenge. He clings to Cleopatra as if she is his life force, his only sustenance. Lisa’s arms cradle and explore me; nothing is held back, true to the very essence of the dance. Her hands are strong, hungry, and assertive as they flow over my thighs, breasts, shoulders and centre, lighting me up. This moment in the scene is pivotal. It’s built to arouse and excite the audience, bringing them with us on this erotic, crazy ride. It needs to shock and hit home hard. Lisa and I are feeling it, as her hands explore me, just as Antony should. I stifle a gasp and tremble at the power of the whole moment, as Katie, not just as Cleopatra.

The end is approaching fast now. My mind flashes ahead to the final moves, the last sixteen bars quickly closing in. Cleopatra makes one last attempt to escape Antony’s grasp. Weak and half-hearted, I dash, then turn to face him, only just out of reach. Cleopatra can’t bear to go any further, and right now, neither can I.

I know what’s coming now. Finally, the leap. My insides clench as the upcoming moves scroll through my mind. I have to throw myself onto Antony, one thigh raised high and thrown around his waist, capturing him like a spider on a fly. Cleopatra’s hands clasp to his strong male chest, and we share a faked stage kiss, as his powerful arms capture me, grab me, and pull me in tight. I look at Lisa, and I don’t know if I can do it.

I hesitate, conscious thought barging in the way for a millisecond too long, and as I make the leap, my hands chicken out. Doubt has thrown me off. I’m afraid of something, touching her this way, letting myself go with her. I grasp Lisa’s shoulders instead, and my thigh is weak and unassertive around her waist. We’re panting and puffing. Our chests rising and our breasts crushing together, just as I would be pressed to Antony. On paper, it’s done, but I’ve failed. I know it.

“That was good, mostly, but you’ve got to nail the ending, Katie. What was that?”

“I know, I know. Sorry. It felt… I didn’t feel I could…” I gazed down at her chest, where my hands should have landed. I can’t bring myself to say that I didn’t want to touch her there. Suddenly I’m aware just how untrue that would be.

Lisa shakes her head and cuts me off. “If it felt anything, then you’re not in the role. In the flow. This bit is everything, Kates.” She grabs me tighter, pulls my thigh around her and grinds my pussy against her thigh. She raises both eyebrows and flicks her gaze toward my hand on her shoulder. Looking into her eyes, I slowly lower them both until I’m pressing my palms to the top of the rise of her breasts. “Good. This is the pose we’re meant to lock in. This is where the lights fade, and the audience should be on their feet, unless they’re too horny to stand.”

I bite my lip and say nothing.

She keeps me locked in the pose, my body literally hanging on hers, a thigh wrapped around her waist, her hands under me, locking me in. “You’ve got to completely fucking own it. Anything less than full commitment, it’s a flop. A joke, Katie. But if you do, if you pull this off, every single person in the audience is going to want to either be you or fuck you. They’ll all go home and screw each other, thinking of you and this dance.”

Lisa surely can’t know the soggy, conflicted mess she is turning me into. I know she’s right; I did hold back when all I wanted to do was give in and go for it. My pussy is now a confused, warm swamp as it presses against her lean, taut muscle. I am sure she can feel it, my pulse thumping against her through my burning cunt. I feel as if my whole heart is inside it.

I say nothing still, unable to trust myself, my breath fluttering in my chest and my heart racing.

“Once more. Really show me this time, Katie. Feel it.” She spoke, her mouth only a breath from mine, intimate and permissive.

I nod, with a calming breath as Lisa slowly releases me and leans to press the remote control. Slowly, the soft, calm strings and flute begin again, and I desperately try to breathe, calm my heart, and still my mind.

This time I’m ready. I’m focused. The flute’s melody sings to me, and I fix my gaze on Lisa’s sparkling crystal eyes. Her cheekbones rise as she smiles, her whole beautiful face playing the part of the enchanted lover.

I give in to the music, determined to stop trying to drive it and simply let it all flow. I feel my soul and heart engage and trust my body to deliver the magic. Lisa’s hands touch mine again for the first time, and I take them, feel them properly this time. She is my lover, my heart’s flame, and my whole life’s mission is to seduce and conquer her.

As the music rises, the first embrace brings my pulse along with it already. As I give in to the music, I find myself wanting and relishing her touch. Her fingers trail over my flesh as we play the push-me-pull-me section of the dance. I drag her toward me and let my whole body show my desire and need for her before slipping away again. And then she gives in, pressed to me, before wrestling with her resistance, fighting to escape my magnetism. In and out, over and over, taking turns to beckon and frustrate each other, all to the rising, pressing staccato of the orchestra.

Antony’s displays this time don’t strike me as awkward when they’re portrayed by Lisa. They’re flowing; free and unbearably sensual. She calls me to her and seduces, while pretending to resist me. I almost lose my own place as I watch the impossible full curve flowing from her hands, high above her head, through her neck, breasts, waist, all the way to the lines of her feet. A study of serenity and elegance. She’s perfect, and so talented.

I catch myself, and my heart flutters as we enter our next embrace. The pivotal tease. I’m fully engaged again now as I turn myself in her arms. Our energies are matched, and I’m right here with her this time. I feel the difference in her as she smiles and plays, truly personifying the stoic Antony to my raging Cleopatra.

I snake back against her, inviting her touch and her warmth. My body presses to her whole front, and I cradle my bottom into her waist. My hands reach back and willingly claim her, grasping and encouraging her. My face turns to hers to seek and invite her kiss. She follows. True to the choreography, yet against my every instinct, I snatch it away, only a whisper keeping our lips from their union. I touch, stroke, and feel her, as a hungry lover would. A huntress and a goddess, I seize my prey and stoke the fire of our passion. It’s my turn now to display and enchant her.

Lisa’s touch is everything in that moment. She digs her fingertips into my flesh, intentional and claiming. No one could ever resist the pure erotic power of it, and I swell and dampen. Her hands roam, brazen and free, and I don’t even care if the music covers the tiny moans that escape me. Her hands are hot and hungry, taking in every part of me, running into my hair, down my neck, and eagerly over both of my breasts. My tits heave, and my nipples swell in a way I know she senses. I grasp her buttock in my hand and clamp her to my back, wishing this dance would last forever, the heat and fire of her overwhelming.

Finally, she reaches my thighs, which are bare and smooth beneath my shorts. She lets the fingers of one hand cup me fully, and I feel the searing heat of her palm over the whole mound of my pussy. It’s a tiny but clear overreach from the choreography. There’s a flash of silent fire between us, even within the frantic crescendo of the orchestra. She pauses just a quarter-beat longer than necessary, taking in the raging heat there, her eyes burning into mine, alive with wordless meaning.

I sigh, feeling myself quiver and almost come apart, but the tempo drives on, and we’re moving again. The music won’t wait for us, for anything. It’s time. The final bars approach. I don’t think, I don’t consider anything. I can’t lose this flow, leave the moment. I pull away, feigning escape, and then I turn. I know in my heart, I won’t escape Lisa. Not now, not ever. I’m undone and raw.

The music pauses for a tiny beat, knowing the audience will be searching my face, my soul, waiting to see our erotic conclusion. I feel the tempestuous fire of Lisa’s gaze, and I know mine has to be its equal. Just as I begin my pounce, Lisa grips the sides of her top, whipping it over her head. It’s wordless, perfect. I bound towards her, a silent gasp stealing my breath as I take in the perfection of her bare breasts.

I throw my thigh around her waist and grab her breasts fully, with an almost painful hunger. Brilliant white light fills my mind as the fortissimo climax bursts into the final explosive notes. My mouth crashes into Lisa’s and my pussy clamps to her thigh. Antony and Cleopatra are forgotten now. The dance is over. It’s our own hands and bodies finally claiming each other now.

I wail and cry out around our kiss as our tongues merge, messy, rough, and beautiful. I try to find words, swear, anything, but all I can manage is crazy animal sounds as I erupt, instantly. I squeeze her tits, firm and perfect, and I feel her hands on me, squeezing and holding me tight. She cradles me from under my bottom, her fingertips pressed deliberately, pleadingly to my already dripping pussy.

“Ohh fffuuucckkk, yeeesss,” she moans, like a bursting volcano as we lock together. I’m convulsing, pulsing, and quivering like a dying soldier. I ride her from the depths of hell to the beauteous peaks of heaven. I’ve not even begun to descend as she joins me. Her legs shake, and the two of us crash to the ground, her thighs grabbing mine, locking our slick pussies to each other’s legs. We’re suddenly both grinding and rolling through the orgasms we’ve built together. I hold her tight and feel her, as I begin to return to myself. She’s still at the peak, wracked and shaken, just as I was only seconds before. She touches, strokes, and palms me everywhere she can, and I’m practically liquid beneath her hands.

“Holy fuck, Lisa,” I finally manage, through puffing, ragged breaths. I shove the damp loose hair back from my face.

“That was… perfect,” she puffs back. “Wow. Just… everything. Fuck!”

I smile and look into her eyes, then I kiss her again. No choreography now. This kiss is a choice; this is all Katie. I can’t stop smiling, can’t stop my breath coming out in flickery, bumpy little rasps. I reach over, and I’m just able to grab the remote to press play again.

“Might need one more run through, but you’re not going anywhere!” I sigh with a playfully laugh. I roll on top of her, pressing her to the ground, and I slide my hand into her shorts. She groans weakly as I cup her the way she had cupped me during the dance, before I slide two fingers straight into the soaking wet heat of her.

“Mmm… practice does make perfect,” she giggles through her moan, yanking down her own shorts, as I suck her tit into my mouth.