"No fighting this. You're Mine."
The words in Vivienne's sultry voice floated up into Joanna's consciousness, pulling her out of a deep but fitful sleep. As her eyes fluttered open, Joanna placed a hand on her chest. Her heart was pounding and she could feel a familiar warmth between her legs. Clenching her center, she could sense that she'd had an orgasm in her sleep, something she couldn't remember doing since high school.
She rolled onto her side and reached for her fiance, only to find Jake's place in the bed empty. She sat up and checked the clock on Jake's bedside table. 9:30. Damn. She'd slept through her own alarms and missed Jake getting ready and leaving for work. What even had that dream been? She dangled at the precipice of wakefulness, her body still tingling from the remnants of that mesmerizing dream. Vivienne's voice echoed in her mind like an incantation woven with threads of longing, "You're Mine." The words sent ripples through Joanna's being as she swung herself out of bed and padded across their shared apartment with bare feet on cool wood floors. No matter how far she walked away from sleep's clutches though, those sultry tones remained.
The morning sun streamed through the curtains in golden hues, illuminating everything it touched--the soft linen bedding unmade and tossed aside seemed to shimmer; delicate dust motes danced happily in its warmth. But all this beauty was lost on Joanna as images flashed behind her eyelids: Vivienne gliding effortlessly across a stage bathed in dim lights while wearing a form-fitting deep red dress that hugged every curve like it belonged solely to her--its fabric shimmering like fresh twilight stars.
Joanna pressed a hand to her forehead as if trying to push away remnants of heat radiating from those fleeting moments shared in the dream. She remembered how lean muscles strained beneath soft fabric when they moved impossibly close--how electric fingertips traced skin where clothes gathered loosely against curves but never fully hid what lay beneath. "No fighting this," echoed again alongside ripples of pleasure flooding back into consciousness--the way their lips had collided with breathtaking urgency had felt so intensely real, even though she knew it was only a dream.
Joanna stumbled through her morning routine, her mind a haze of conflicting emotions. She brushed her teeth mechanically, barely registering the mint flavor as images from the dream flickered behind her eyes like an old film reel. Vivienne's graceful form, the curve of her neck, the intensity of her gaze--all burned into Joanna's memory with startling clarity.
She stepped into the shower, hoping the water would wash away the lingering heat of desire. Instead, as rivulets cascaded down her body, Joanna found herself imagining Vivienne's hands tracing the same paths. She shuddered, bracing herself against the tiled wall, her breath coming in short gasps.
Dressing proved to be another challenge. Each brush of fabric against her skin felt heightened, sensitized. She fumbled with buttons, her fingers clumsy and uncooperative. In the end, she settled on a flowing skirt and a soft blouse, the material cool against her flushed skin. Throughout the day, Joanna found herself lost in reverie. It was a goodness that she still worked from home, as she was sure she would have been a whole mess in a typical office setting today. During a conference call, her colleagues' voices faded into the background as she recalled the way Vivienne had moved in her dream and in the memories of their previous dance lessons, all fluid grace and barely restrained power. She caught herself absentmindedly tracing patterns on her desk in the apartment's office, mimicking the path Vivienne's fingers had taken across her skin in the dream.
As the day wore on, Joanna's anticipation for the evening's dance lesson grew exponentially. The hours seemed to crawl by, each minute stretching into an eternity. She found herself checking the clock obsessively, her stomach fluttering with a mix of excitement and dread every time she realized how close the lesson was drawing.
By late afternoon, Joanna was a bundle of nerves. She paced her apartment, unable to focus on anything for more than a few moments. The soft carpet muffled her footsteps as she moved from room to room, her mind racing with possibilities and fears. What if Vivienne could somehow sense she'd had the dream? What if Joanna's body betrayed her, responding to Vivienne's touch in ways that were entirely inappropriate for a student-teacher relationship?
She tried to distract herself by selecting an outfit for the lesson, but even this simple task became fraught with meaning. Every piece of clothing seemed to carry a hidden message. The red blouse was too bold, too reminiscent of the dress from her dream. The flowing skirt felt too flirtatious. In the end, she settled on a pair of form-fitting black dance pants and a simple, pale blue top that hugged her curves without being overly revealing. As she stood before the mirror, Joanna's fingers trembled slightly as she fastened the last button. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves.
Just then, her phone buzzed with an incoming text. It was Jake. "Hey babe, so sorry but there's been a big melt down at work that your man has to stay late and clean up. Won't make it to dance class tonight. Have fun without me! Love you."
Joanna's heart raced as she read the message. She would be alone with Vivienne. The thought both thrilled and terrified her. She typed out a quick reply, her fingers hovering over the send button for a moment before she pressed it. "No problem. I'll fill you in later. Love you too."
As she made her way to the dance studio, Joanna's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Guilt gnawed at her conscience. She loved Jake. These strong feelings for another woman were so alien and wrong and yet she couldn't remember ever feeling anything like this before.
The studio door loomed before her, and Joanna hesitated. It was just going to be the two of them. She shivered with anticipation, somehow convinced deep down that this woman would already know about her dream when she walked in, their connection too palpable for that not to be a real possibility.
Inside the studio, Vivienne was also a bundle of nerves as she waited for Joanna to arrive. She'd been informed of Jake's oncoming absence and knew the stakes had just been raised. The older woman's heart skipped a beat as she caught sight of Joanna through the studio's glass door. The younger woman stood there, hesitating, her hand hovering near the handle. Even from this distance, Vivienne could sense the tension radiating from Joanna's body, the slight tremor in her fingers, the way her chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths.
Time seemed to slow as Vivienne drank in the sight of her. Joanna's chestnut hair cascaded over her shoulders, catching the late afternoon light and shimmering with hints of gold and auburn. Her pale blue top clung to her curves in a way that made Vivienne's mouth go dry, and those black dance pants... Vivienne swallowed hard, forcing her gaze back up to Joanna's face.
The young woman finally found the courage to push the door open and Vivienne smiled brightly. "Hello Joey!" she said in her smooth drawl as she glided toward her student for the afternoon.
