Shall we Play a Game Pt. 03

Have you seen the movie Romancing the Stone? The movie with Kathleen Turner and Michael Douglas, she's a romance writer and he's a hustler in some South American country? I love the way the movie ends, just after the book editor tells Kathleen she's now a world class hopeless romantic and Kathleen's character remarks to herself that no, she's a hopeful romantic. The next scene she's walking and Michael is right there with a beautiful sailboat just waiting for her. The line where she said "I can't blame him. If I was to die there's nowhere else on earth I'd rather be."

OMG!

Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if Douglas hadn't shown up so soon. What if it had been months or even years before he showed up. How long does it take for hopeful to fade and to become hopeless?

I'm sitting here at another Sunday night dance practice party wondering if I'm wasting my time. When I started at the university I decided to take dance lessons to give myself something to enjoy doing while going to classes. I'd taken ballet since I was eight, but I didn't want to be a professional ballerina (I hated point shoes!) so I stopped when I graduated from high school. I decided my first year at UNL to start taking dance classes at one of the local dance studios because...quite frankly, I'd been seduced when I was 12 years old.

Ewww, not like that! My parents had taken me to a classic movie showing at a theater. The movie had been An American in Paris. Ohh, Gene Kelly dancing with Cyd Charisse and Leslie Caron, moving together in perfect unison, existing only for the pleasure of being with each other. I remember sitting forward in my seat, resting my arms and chin on the seat in front of me and being enthralled by the movie. The way they looked at each other, the way they touched and held each other called to me. After that I spent days watching every Gene Kelly dance clip I could find, marveling at how he moved, his athletic body moving with impossible grace. I wanted to dance, to be with a man like that!

(My mother took note of my fascination with him. She'd always been open with me about sexual relations between men and women, but she sat me down and really told me about the facts of life. It could be incredible she said, but it can also bring pain if you're not careful. She also tole me her first time was a poor experience, and that she wishes she'd waited long enough to be ready for that first time. Part of that, she said, was waiting for the right man to come along so I knew he was worthy of my love.)

Which was a problem. My body quickly started to mature and it became apparent that I was going to have a smokin hot body. Between that, my long blonde hair, and a face that promised to be beautiful the boys quickly started noticing me. The problem was that there wasn't any romance in their eyes, only lust. I wanted a boy to look me in the eyes and see his heart, his soul looking back at me, not see him wondering how he could get my bra off. And none of them could dance! Oh, some of them had amazing hip hop or funky dance moves, but actually dancing with me was clumsy and awkward. Soon, some nasty rumors were going around that I was a tease, promising a lot but always saying no. If it wasn't that, some of the guys just made up stories about how easy I was, or the opposite, that I was frigid. I don't know what hurt more. Some of the girls believed the stories, which made my circle of friends small.

So I graduated high school still a virgin, and went onto a university. I figured that the men would be a little more, I don't know, mature, but no. Most of them still just wanted to get into my panties. The few others who figured I was worth going slow for couldn't dance worth a damn, and even in the dance studio practice parties there were no guys who could sweep a woman off her feet on a dance floor. Some of them were more likely to step on her feet.

We had just gotten done with a short dance lesson for everyone and were waiting for the dancing to start. I noticed the door open and in walked a man who looked like he thought he was hot stuff. He radiated confidence as he walked over to a seat, which was at odds with his muscular athletic build, not really suited for graceful moving. I figured he was a jock who was used to women oohing and aahing over him, and even though he was (I hated to admit) quite good looking, I wanted more. (Okay, he wasn't just good looking, he was hot!) He sat down, and I realized he had a bag, out of which he pulled a pair of dance shoes! Okay, anyone can buy dance shoes, but can he dance in them? Let's see just how good he..

"Can I have this dance?"

It was one of the men who'd come in for the lesson, he was new to dancing, but I didn't want to be rude to him, so I said okay.

I was rushed, I had planned on getting to the studio early to help Jeremy with the lesson but had been delayed. The minute I stepped onto that dance floor though my irritation vanished and I could feel my body, my self come into focus, I was where I belonged. I'd been dancing since I was nine, my mother and father were very good dancers and I wanted to be like them. I can still remember dancing with girls, some of them older than me, before I really knew why I should be dancing with girls. Oh sure, it was fun and my parents made a big deal of me as I was getting good at it but it was just fun. I enjoyed the dance lessons and the older girls ( and some women!) made a fuss over me and gently teased me a little so I kept at it. Then when I around 13 everything started to change and I became, I don't know, aware that the person who I was holding hands with or holding in my arms was a female and why I wanted to be dancing with them. Oh boy! My father noticed the change in me and quickly clued me in to all the facts of life and how while my body was getting ready to do some wonderful things, my mental and personal maturity were going to take longer. In other words don't do anything stupid!

That admonition may have been what made me a really good dancer. As I got a little older my dancing with a girl became more intense, the actual dance became this intense relationship with my dance partner, not just a short period of time where two people fumbled around trying to move with one another. It forced me to examine what I was doing. The dance world thinks of the relationship between the two people on the dance floor as one of them being the leader and one of them the follower. I realized that I hated those simple terms, it sounds like a childish game of follow the leader. It's not me rubbing my head with the right hand and patting my belly with my left and the girl had to match me. I was creating the dance as I was doing it, I was the choreographer and my part of the dance was to design the it, taking into account what I could do and the level of ability of who I was dancing with. I needed to communicate what we were doing to my partner with physical and visual cues. She was the primary dancer, a lot of what I did was designed to make her look good, making it easier for her to know what we were doing and always being where I was supposed to be so that we were always in sync with each other. As I got better dancing became more automatic, I didn't have to pay attention to what I was doing so much, and I started to develop an intensity to my dance, an ability to really focus on the girl/woman I was dancing with. One of my mantras became a woman doesn't want to have a man ask her it she'll dance with him, she wants a man who wants to dance with her.

So here I was, and I could feel my anticipation for the evening building. Jeremy had asked me to come this evening, he had something I could help him with, but he wouldn't elaborate on what that was. I sat down and put my shoes on quickly and started over to talk to Jeremy when Claire stopped me.

"Dance with me Sean?"

Rats, I liked dancing with Claire but wanted to talk with Jeremy first. "I'm sorry Claire, but could it wait? I want to talk with Jeremy."

"Sure, no problem, but I'll hold you to that."

"Thanks."

Threading my way past the dancing couples I quickly came up to Jeremy sitting at his DJ setup. "Hey Jeremy, sorry I showed up late but I had to help Mark unload some lumber."

"It's okay, we had an even number of men and women so we managed."

"Good. So, what's this problem I can help you with?"

"I've got this female student who's pretty good and wants to get better, but I sense that she's getting discouraged about the lack of men who can dance well, so I was hoping you'd consider helping her out by being her dance partner?"

"Hmmm, I'll have to think about it. You know how busy I've been the last three years trying to learn everything I can about what's involved with restoring and building houses. I'm not sure I have the time to help a woman reach her dancing goals. Why don't you partner up with her?"

"Two reasons. First I'm pretty busy myself running my dance studio and I've already got too many women I'm working with one on one. And also....."

"And this also would be...."

"I'm gay and I get the feeling this woman is looking for magic to happen with a dance partner."

"Christ Jeremy, you know I don't have time for having a relationship with anyone! I already feel bad enough telling women that I don't want anything permanent, and here you are trying to set me up!"

"I know, but something tells me that this woman might be more than you can walk away from."

"Good grief, is she here tonight?"

He points over my shoulder. "Yeah, she's over there with a new guy that's come in for a few lessons and still has a lot to learn, and even from here I can see how she's struggling to dance with him."

Oh dear. I give up and look over to where he's pointed and see...

She's beautiful.

Blonde hair falling down over her shoulders, and somehow I know it's her real hair color, nothing out of a bottle. Her face is like one you'd see on one of those boxes that the hair color comes in, perfect and flawless. Her lips are trying to smile for her partner but she can't quite make it, and I find myself imagining what they'd look like when she has a genuine smile on her face. Slender neck dropping down to what look like delicate shoulders. I can't tell much about her body, she's wearing clothing that isn't hiding her figure but still not emphasizing the curves of her woman's contours. She looks to be about five foot eight, with legs that hint at their shape whenever they press against the dress she's dancing in. Her clothing is soft colors, very stylish but they have the look of inexpensive clothes purchased with an eye to what looks good on her.

And she's dancing with some klutz who can't show off the grace in her, and I'm seized with the irrational desire to go over to them, tell him that I'm cutting in (while making it clear that no isn't an option) and encouraging those lips to smile and fill my heart with....

What's happening to me? I haven't even met this woman, and already I feel like I'm bewitched by her!

To break the (spell?) I turn back to Jeremy and see him sitting there with a cat who ate the canary grin on his face. I might be a little annoyed with him if I didn't have the feeling that I was going to owe him big time.

Safe topic. "What's her dance background?"

"Ballet lessons since she was eight, stopped taking them when she graduated high school and started at the university. Been taking lessons in my studio for the past three years, really good but between a lack of time because she's studying for her classes and the fact that she's doesn't have the right dance partner..."

"Okay, that covers the dance problem, so what about the magic part?" Start to turn around to look at her and stop myself, I don't know if I can look away again. "Are you going to tell me that a woman who looks like that couldn't have her pick of almost any man? Suspicious look. "What's wrong with her?"

"Sean, if you weren't built like you are I swear I'd get up and punch you in the face. Nothing's wrong with her!" Slow breath. "Her only flaw is - crap, I've got to start another song."

Busy few moments.

"Okay, if she has any flaw it's her conviction that there's a knight in shining armor who will appear and sweep her off her feet, very preferably also being a great dancer. And...you never heard me say any of this."

"I won't tell anyone I even know you."

"All right, I think since I'm gay she decided to confide in me. She's told me that when she eventually finds that knight she wants it to be her first time."

"Oh"

"She also told me once, when she was feeling down, that the hopeful romantic in her was slowly dying and becoming a hopeless romantic. I'm not sure where she got that from but I knew what she meant."

"Oh"

"Is that all you're going to do is say oh?"

Deep breath. "Does she dance night club two step?"

"It's one of her favorite dances."

Oh my. "I told Claire I'd dance with her so play a nice swing for us next. I'm going to go over and ask her to save the dance after that for me. Then I want you to play Spanish Guitar."

So far I've danced a waltz with (?) and a cha cha with Bob and and now Mr. Athlete is heading my way. I'm tempted to get up and walk out of here and just go home. Before he can get to me (?) comes over and asks me if I would dance with him again. I paste a look of anticipation on my face and stand up for him.

"Excuse me, before you start..."

"Yes?"

"Would you please save the next dance for me. Please?"

I like the way he asks me, inclining his head towards me and placing his hand over his heart. A flicker of interest runs through me and I tell him yes, I'd like that very much. I watch him walk away and go towards a woman who clearly expects him to dance with her, and resolve to try and watch them dance to see how he does.

I did it. I don't know how I managed to do it while looking at her up close, I was sure I was going to babble like an idiot, but I managed to get a yes from her. Now all I have to do is to give Claire the attention she deserves while dancing with her and trying to not think of how beautiful this mystery woman is.

Damn! I couldn't see much of anything about how he dances, between (?) trying to spin me like a top and other couples dancing between us I couldn't see him. If he turns out to be a rotten dancer I may scream.

Saying goodbye to Claire I slowly start walking over to this woman, taking in everything about her. I reach out with my left hand, and she places her right into it. Her fingers are long, and the skin is soft and warm, and I mentally curse my hard skinned hand, imaging how rough it must be for her, wishing it could be more welcoming.

I can feel how much strength there is in his hand, muscular and rough, probably from hard work. Yet he holds my hand softly, leading me over to a spot on the dance floor where no one else is dancing. Turning to face me, he lifts my hand up slowly into a dance position facing me, and his other hand slowly reaches behind me to my lower shoulder blade, firmly holding me. A shudder runs through me, as I feel his confidence and skill in holding me perfectly, and it seems as if this is where I belong, here on the dance floor in his arms.

Gods, the feel of her! Her right hand nestled in my left one, in a perfect dance style, feeling like it belongs there. My right hand holding her, the fingers on her lower shoulder blade, the palm nestled on her side, and her left arm resting softly on my right arm, her hand perfectly placed on my upper arm, and in my mind I can feel the heat of her touch. Up close I look into her eyes, seeing the blue in them, and I lose myself in their depths. So be-spelled am I by her I don't hear the song start, and have to give myself a shake when she purses her lips into a smile, amused at the effect she has on me.

I feel like I've been waiting a lifetime to see that look in a man's eyes, that look that says the moment is perfect, and that if he had nothing else to do he could spend ages just looking into my eyes. I've seen that look before from other men but there's always been a calculating gleam in their eyes, thinking about how to make me theirs. This man is totally focused on the now, there is no planning about how to seduce me, the only awareness in his mind is...me. It's overwhelming, and I'm only dimly aware of the music starting, and he's just standing there, looking at me. I feel a blush lighting up my face, and purse my lips, trying not to laugh as he realizes what he's doing, giving his head a shake as if to restart his mind. He straightens up, and then begins to move, and it's...

I step to my left and she follows me perfectly, moving lightly but keeping contact with me, her body lightly fitting into my frame and He steps to my right and I follow him, his step soft and yet firm, and I step easily with him, I twist my hips around, keeping my upper body focused on her, and rock step, he gently leads me in a rock step, his lower body twisting away from me so his upper body doesn't pull away from me, keeping the distance between us constant so there's no feeling of him pulling away from me or pushing me away from him, then I step back to my right and again she steps perfectly with me, our rock steps gentle and small, unwilling to move away from each other, I feel as if what I'm doing is automatic, there isn't any thought in how I step, each move in sync with how he moves, which is a good thing, because with him looking at me like this I don't think I can concentrate on anything else.

A few more basic steps and I decide to start leading some turns, and I lift her hand He lifts my hand for a spot turn and it's wonderful, his hand holding my hand exactly over my head, not trying to move me, just letting me dance she steps gracefully through the turn and comes back to me, and we go back into our dance frames, no fumbling or hesitation, almost as if we had danced for years together I come out of the turn and he's in perfect position and we're instantly back together and on it goes, cueing this beautiful woman into more and more intricate moves, and it's as if she's reading my mind, always knowing what dance steps I want us to do next it's bliss, we're dancing in perfect unison, somehow I always know what he wants us to do and he's always there to take me back into his arms.

The song ends and we stand there, lost in each others eyes, I'm vaguely aware that some people around us are quietly applauding and The song ends and we just stand there, lost in each others eyes, I'm vaguely aware that some people around us are quietly applauding and I start to open my mouth to thank her for the incredible gift of dancing with me when shock and dismay hit me, I forgot to ask her for her name! he starts to say something and stops, grimacing and slightly bowing his head and I worry, is something wrong?

"What is it?"

"I'm sorry, I was about to thank you for the dance when I realized that I didn't ask you for your name, and I was annoyed with myself."

Sigh of relief. "That's all right, my name is Sara."

Oh my gods her name is Sara! I don't know what it is about that name but the sound of it has always seemed to me to represent the ultimate woman, someone who has a great love to give to a man and who will accept a man's love and cherish it. Someone who... on a cold and windy night outside, curled up together on a big overstuffed chair in front of a fireplace, she's in my arms, her body softly pressing onto me, as she sleeps the soft sound of her breathing fills my ears with contentment. I refuse to let myself fall asleep, unwilling to let this precious moment end in slumber. I...

I realize I'm standing in front of Sara (Sara!) like an idiot.