Sweet, my love, I’m listening to music…
A tango: Por una cabeza, Carlos Gardel.
Come over here. Do you like the Tango?
Not that silly acrobatic Hollywood posturing; the sensuous stuff, the real thing.
This is fucking to music with your clothes on: no rules, no choreographed steps.
Did you think this was just a dance? Oh but this is so much more. It's the stop-start teasing and the heat and the breathing carefully so you don’t scream.
It’s Tango. It stared in the brothels in Argentina, you know, a dance of seduction, and the men were supposed to get aroused...It was foreplay, and all that was left to do in private was culmination, but in a private tango, you don’t have to stop. It’s easy, really, you turn down the lights and the music takes you.
Would you like to dance with me? Now - or some other night.
I’m sly-stepping up to invite you: come do a phantom tango with me.
I stand here in the dim light: tall heels, black dress - a froth of chiffon, so light you can glimpse the shadow between my thighs; and the intricate lace cuffs of my black stockings flirt with your sight.
Come join me: step towards me, into the light,
Yes, like that, we step together; towards each other, barely touch, connected by intent and the music starts, and we follow it. Every pause, the slow cadence; each brush a teasing: it is all one long sensual game of teasing and you never kiss...ever. You let mouths brush each other, tongues lick, slide over lips; you approach and retreat with every beat. Heads together, we slow-breathe into each other’s half opened mouths. I slow-slide up the dress and bare my thighs.
Come closer - I retreat another step and you brush past. Come now, see if you can slither your fingers into me, as I slide past again... Tell me, do you like this dance? You have to do it eyes to eyes, and no kissing remember; breathing slow and controlled, and because it's a private dance, you can drag up the dress and slide your fingers inside
Do you think you can make me miss a beat? Lose my place? Oh but no! I will squirm on to your hand, engulf your fingers. Oh closer, see, I make it a step, slide my leg over your hip and it's still the dance. Place your hand on my waist, hold me up, let me arch back so I open wider to your touch
No kissing.... So do you like to tango? Now spin me round, so my back is to you pressed close and you feather your hands down from my breasts to caress the softness between my thighs. Another step, slip-slide and now…
Now the spin-out, you push me away. Reject me, make me slither closer; beg to stay in your arms. This is the Tango, so you relent, one more step, face to face. No kissing...and then, we end the games.
Push me to the wall, one more step,you thrust inside.
The tango is over, and we start the ride.
Manuela Cardiga
A tango: Por una cabeza, Carlos Gardel.
Come over here. Do you like the Tango?
Not that silly acrobatic Hollywood posturing; the sensuous stuff, the real thing.
This is fucking to music with your clothes on: no rules, no choreographed steps.
Did you think this was just a dance? Oh but this is so much more. It's the stop-start teasing and the heat and the breathing carefully so you don’t scream.
It’s Tango. It stared in the brothels in Argentina, you know, a dance of seduction, and the men were supposed to get aroused...It was foreplay, and all that was left to do in private was culmination, but in a private tango, you don’t have to stop. It’s easy, really, you turn down the lights and the music takes you.
Would you like to dance with me? Now - or some other night.
I’m sly-stepping up to invite you: come do a phantom tango with me.
I stand here in the dim light: tall heels, black dress - a froth of chiffon, so light you can glimpse the shadow between my thighs; and the intricate lace cuffs of my black stockings flirt with your sight.
Come join me: step towards me, into the light,
Yes, like that, we step together; towards each other, barely touch, connected by intent and the music starts, and we follow it. Every pause, the slow cadence; each brush a teasing: it is all one long sensual game of teasing and you never kiss...ever. You let mouths brush each other, tongues lick, slide over lips; you approach and retreat with every beat. Heads together, we slow-breathe into each other’s half opened mouths. I slow-slide up the dress and bare my thighs.
Come closer - I retreat another step and you brush past. Come now, see if you can slither your fingers into me, as I slide past again... Tell me, do you like this dance? You have to do it eyes to eyes, and no kissing remember; breathing slow and controlled, and because it's a private dance, you can drag up the dress and slide your fingers inside
Do you think you can make me miss a beat? Lose my place? Oh but no! I will squirm on to your hand, engulf your fingers. Oh closer, see, I make it a step, slide my leg over your hip and it's still the dance. Place your hand on my waist, hold me up, let me arch back so I open wider to your touch
No kissing.... So do you like to tango? Now spin me round, so my back is to you pressed close and you feather your hands down from my breasts to caress the softness between my thighs. Another step, slip-slide and now…
Now the spin-out, you push me away. Reject me, make me slither closer; beg to stay in your arms. This is the Tango, so you relent, one more step, face to face. No kissing...and then, we end the games.
Push me to the wall, one more step,you thrust inside.
The tango is over, and we start the ride.
Manuela Cardiga
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