"No, no, NO! Your tail needs to move WITH your hips, not against them!"
Rakia grabbed Melisa's tail, positioning it while simultaneously pushing her hips forward. The touch sent sparks up Melisa's spine.
"Like this! Feel the connection!"
They'd been at this since dawn. The festival started at sunset, and Rakia had insisted on one final, perfect run-through. The problem was that Rakia's definition of "perfect" kept changing.
"Now spin, but keep your tits centered!"
"How do I keep my tits centered while spinning?"
"With PASSION!"
Melisa attempted the move. Her foot caught on the hem of the ceremonial skirt—if you could call three inches of fabric a skirt—and she went down hard, face-first into the practice mat.
"Better! But next time, fall with intention!"
"I didn't mean to fall at all!"
"Art is about embracing the unexpected!" Rakia hauled her up, hands lingering on Melisa's waist. "Again! And this time, imagine you're seducing the entire audience!"
"The entire audience?"
