Guitar and Tango

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Saturday morning. No classes today. The sky was blue, the sun was shining and I had nothing to do.

I grabbed my guitar and figured I would head to the park, play for a few hours, maybe make enough in tips to buy myself some dinner and have a drink or two.

I found a quiet corner of the park where no one else was playing. When you play classical guitar, it’s hard to compete with electric guitars and acoustical guitar players playing more contemporary music. Not many people will listen to a guitarist playing Bach or flamenco music. Typically, I would get $30 -$50 dollars after playing all day, but it was a form of practice as well, something I didn’t do enough of.

I had been playing for almost two hours and had just finished a flamenco number when I heard applause. I looked up to see two dark haired beauties with fiery eyes smiling and applauding.

“You play music of my country, no?”

I must have appeared confused because one said, “We’re from Argentina where that music is part of our traditions. You play well for American.”

“Thank you. I’m not very good but I love to play. The music has such passion and romance in it. It talks to me in a special way and my guitar is best when I play it.”

“Yes, the music of tango is about passion, romance and love. We are here to study dance, but we often help other students with the tango. You know tango?”

“I know the music, but I don’t know how to do the dance. Never could dance.” I laughed at the look on their faces.

“You play tango, we show you dance?”

I looked at them closer. They were obviously dancers, with dancers legs, tight asses, athletically looking and beautiful.

“Sure, I’ll play if you’ll dance.”

“Begin, please.”

I picked up my guitar and strummed a few cords to be sure it was still in tune. I began to play a tango I had learned several years ago. They began dancing. I watched them as they danced. They were good. Their lines looked perfect to me, but even more impressive was the passion in their movements and faces. They didn’t seem to be affected at all by one dancing the male part and the other the female part.

As they danced, a crowd began to gather and watch. I doubt that I’d ever played better and my guitar had never sounded better. When we finished, the crowd applauded and thru money into the open guitar case. The girls asked, “You like our tango? We teach you if you want.”

“Thank you, but I’ll stick to playing. You dance beautifully. The passion you displayed reached to my music and made me play better.”

“We have to go. Maybe see you again and we dance again.”

They walked off together. I put my guitar away and there was $150 in my case. My best day ever. That night, I ate a nice steak and had a good wine in honor of Argentina and the tango.

I did research on the Argentine tango and the associated music. I downloaded some music and practiced. I practiced as hard as I ever had. My professor even commented on it. Said something to the affect that it was about time. I also went to the park every chance I got in hopes of seeing the two girls again.

Three weeks later, I was at the park again and playing one of the new tango’s I had learned. I looked up and the two girls were there dancing. I felt my playing improve immediately as I fed off their passion. Again, a crowd gathered and watched as they danced and I played. I finished the song and immediately moved into another one. I didn’t want to break the spell. They continued to dance. Once again, when I finished, the crowd applauded and thru money into my guitar case.

“You girls dance very well. Again, your passion carried over to my playing. Thank you for inspiring me.”

“We love to dance. Your music gives us opportunity to dance our favorite dance for you.”

I looked at the guitar case and there was about $200 in the case.

“May I take you both to dinner? It’s getting late and I’m done for the day.”

“We would like that.”

I put my guitar away, each girl took one of my arms and we headed for a local bar where I sometimes played. I knew I would be able to keep my guitar safe there.

At dinner, I learned their names were Maria and Rosa. They asked me about my guitar playing. I explained that I had started school as an English lit major planning to write the next great american novel, but had grown tired of it. I next tried photography and had gotten fairly good at it, but it didn’t seem to fill some need in me. I had played guitar for years, but took it up in a serious manner and found that I really enjoyed classical guitar. At age 28, I was still in school trying to get a degree that would allow me to earn a living. Classical guitar playing did not look promising.

I introduced myself as Ron and asked about their dancing. They explained that their families owned large Estancias in Argentina and they had been dancing their entire lives. The small town they grew up in had a tango competition every Friday and everyone would come out, dance, laugh, drink wine and enjoy life. They had come to America to study dance the exchange izle with the hope of returning to Argentina to dance professionally.

We finished dinner, I grabbed my guitar. The girls were speaking to each other in Spanish, laughing and looking at me. As we walked out, they grabbed my arms, and said, “You come home with us, play guitar, we dance.”

What could I say. I let them lead me to their apartment. Once inside, they moved furniture out of the way. I pulled out my guitar and started to play. They began to dance. I thought the passion when they were dancing in the park was impressive, but it was nothing to what they were showing in their apartment. I finished the first song, they looked at me and said, “Now we show you the real passion, romance and love of a tango.”

The stripped off their clothes. “Now you take your clothes off. You will play with more passion.”

I coughed, stood and undressed. I used my guitar to hide my raging erection, but the girls just laughed and said, “That is good for passion!”

I began to play again. I had a hard time focusing on my playing. Two naked girls dancing the tango, their bodies rubbing against each other, their nipples erect, hands moving all over each other. My guitar never sounded so good. My fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. Passion flowed out of my instrument. I stopped hiding my erection. My eyes were focused on the two dancers. I finished playing. We all stopped, all of us breathing hard.

They looked at me and smiled. The fire in their eyes spoke of desires not yet satisfied. They began to kiss. Softly, slowly their hands explored each others bodies. Their tongues began to dance, first in ones mouth, then the others as if in another dance. I watched in awe.

They moved to the bedroom and continued to kiss. Now they focused on each others breast and nipples. Their hands and fingers bringing moans of passion and pleasure to each other. Their lips suckled each others breast as their hands began to play with the others pussy. Slowly, they moved into a 69. Their tongues found each others clits, fingers were pumping into each other. One would play with the others ass, then the other would do the same. The room began smelling like sex, fluids were running down their thighs. In their passion, they seemed to have forgotten me.

I watched and stroked my cock. I had never been harder.

Their moans grew in intensity, you could see, hear, and smell the coming orgasms. If there had been music playing it would be getting louder, faster and more intense. Then one screamed as she came causing the other to scream and cum. Their bodies were shaking, they fell apart glistening with sweat. They came together in another hug and kiss, their tongues seeming to continue the dance. Legs and arms were intertwined as they continued to hug and kiss.

As they separated, I handed them each some water I had gotten them. They looked at each other, then at me and said, “Now we share our passion with you!”

They pulled me to the bed. Each kissed me and shared a lot of tongue while their hands explored my body. I also explored theirs. Both moved down to kiss my cock, then they shared it as each sucked on it. They passed it back and forth. I reached for their bodies and played with any part I could find. Finally Rosa pivoted around and planted her pussy on my face. Her pussy was nectar to my tongue. I licked, sucked and stuck my tongue in her pussy. My hands grabbed her ass cheeks. Now my tongue went searching for her nubbin. When I found it I heard a very loud “Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.”

Maria continued to suck my cock. I reached down with one hand to try and find a boob, but could only reach her head. My hand returned to Rosa’s ass. Maria then got up on her knees and sat down on my cock. I found both of their boobs then and could tell they were kissing. Maria started bouncing on my cock and Rosa sat down harder on my face. I had difficulty breathing. Rosa came with a squeal and her juices flowed over my face. She got off me and traded places with Maria. Damn, her pussy tasted awesome too.

Once again, I licked, sucked, fingered, tongue fucked, played with her ass and then my tongue went searching for her clit. I found it and she exploded on my face. Moments later, I exploded in Rosa’s pussy.

We rolled apart, the girls started cleaning each other up and then curled up to me, giving me little kisses. Our bodies were intertwined. We fell asleep that way.

Morning came and there was a flurry of activity as the girls dressed to get to their classes. I got up, dressed, put my guitar in its case and headed home to shower and clean up. I had forgotten to get their phone numbers.

Late afternoon, my phone rang. It was Maria, she had gotten my number from my phone at some point last night. She said, “Last night was a passionate night. We would like to do that again if you’re interested.”

“Of course I am. Call me when you want to get together. Can I call you now that I have your number.”

“Yes, anytime. We both really the family pile izle like you.”

We talked frequently but our schedules seemed to conspire to keep us apart. When I learned where their classes were, I realized it was just a few blocks from my apartment. I told them where I lived and asked them to drop by anytime they wanted if they were walking home from classes.

I woke on the weekend to a cold, rainy, and dreary day. No guitar playing today. I called the girls, but they were busy so we could not get together until later in the day. I started working on some photographs I had taken. I hate having to fix photos using software, but sometimes I do make alterations that improve the photo. I lost track of time. About 3:00, the girls buzzed and I let them in. They kissed me.

“You play, we dance.”

“I’ll play a CD and you can dance while I photograph you.” They nodded their approval.

We moved furniture around to make room, I set up some lighting, and started the music.

Their dancing was amazing to me. How light they were on their feet, the grace, balance, fluidity of movement and the lines they displayed. I started taking photos. The music ended and another song came on that was less tango. They moved right into a dance that suited that music. I continued to take photos. Outside, the clouds were clearing and the light was changing in the apartment. I prefer working with natural light, so turned off all but one light box.

The music ended. They wanted to see the photos, but I said, “Not till I get them downloaded to the computer. Then I’ll show you.”

“You put on more music, we dance, you take more photos.”

I agreed. While looking for something to put on, they stripped off their clothes. “Now you take pictures of us dancing naked!”

There was something absolutely beautiful with their dance. I was awe struck. I took hundreds of photos, hell, maybe thousands. The music ended and I was almost out of memory card space.

They insisted I undress and we made love. It seemed as graceful and fluid as their dancing. I came in each of them and they cleaned each other up. We laughed, hugged, kissed and ordered pizza. We ate the pizza, drank some wine and made love again. It was a great night.

I downloaded the photos from my camera. As expected, there were many that were simply photos without anything outstanding about them. I found several excellent ones of each of them individually as well as together. I used Photoshop to convert them to black & white. I liked what I saw, so made a collage for each of them, had it mounted and framed. I presented it to them along with a book of other photos from that day. They were ecstatic.

I continued to improve my guitar playing. We would get together in their or my apartment, or at the park. I would play, they would dance. Some times we made love.

I had not seen them for a few weeks and was playing in the park. Maria and Rosa showed up with an older couple. Maria explained that it was her parents from Argentina. She introduced us. Their names were Marie and Jorge. He appeared to be 15 – 20 years older than Marie. Maria asked me to play a tango. I strummed my guitar and began to play. Marie and Jorge began to dance. They were really good. It was obvious that they had a lot of experience. A crowd gathered to watch them dance. My guitar playing seemed to get even better.

When the music ended, they politely bowed to the crowd that was applauding and to me for my music. Maria blew me a kiss as she and Rosa left with Marie and Jorge. There was $250 in my guitar case.

The next day, Maria called and asked if I could play at the local Argentine dance hall. I didn’t even know such a place existed. I agreed.

Thursday night, I arrived at the hall with my guitar. There were about two dozen couples and a few musicians. We introduced ourselves, tuned our instruments and began to play. Marie and Jorge were there and all the couples began to dance. It was awesome to see all those couples dancing a tango. Maria and Rosa were there as well and they were dancing.

I seem to mesh well with the other musicians. We played for several hours and the couples continued to dance. At the end of the night, Maria and Rosa stopped and gave me a kiss and hug as I was putting my guitar away. They said, “See you in a few days. Thank you.”

Saturday morning, I was working on my computer, photoshopping some pictures. The buzzer rang. It was Maria so I let her in. Marie was with her.

“I showed Marie your photos of Rosa and I. She was very impressed. She would like you to take pictures of her so she can give Jorge something special for their anniversary.”

“Of course. What’s she have in mind?”

“She wants something similar to mine. Dancing and displaying her body.”

I gulped, “Ok.”

Marie looked almost as nervous as I was.

We cleared the furniture, set up some lighting, put some music on.

Marie began to dance and I began to take photos. After several songs, Maria said something the first lady izle to Marie. There was a pause and slowly, Marie began to take off her clothes. I looked at Maria and she smiled and said, “Just take photos.”

Again the music started and Marie began to dance. Now she had on only a black bra and panties, not sexy, but not Walmart either. Her movements were very artful and I took pictures from every angle I could find. The light in the apartment was continuing to change as the sun moved thru its arc. After a couple of songs, we took a break. Marie tried to cover up, but Maria said something that must have relaxed her because she simply sat back, drank some wine and rested.

Maria asked for more music. Marie stood up to dance when Maria said something else. Marie stopped, looked at me, looked at Maria, paused and then began to take off her bra and panties. She once again started to dance. She was beautiful for a women her age. Her breast were firm, her back side was firm, her belly flat, and the light made her stunning. She danced and I took photos, hundreds, from every angle. She looked at the lens as though making love to the camera. I could not believe how stunning she was. I could not stop taking pictures. I also had a huge hard on.

Finally the music ended. Marie said, “Enough.” She and Maria had a brief conversation as she dressed. Maria kissed me, said, “Thank you” and they left.

The next week, Maria came by to look at the photos of her mother. We picked two that she thought were the type of photo her mother was looking for. I printed proofs of them and six others for Maria to show her mother. Once a final decision was made, I took the file to a lab that I use and had a large print made then had it mounted and framed. Maria made arrangements to ship it to Argentina.

Maria, Rosa and I got together from time to time for music and dancing as well as sex. The end of the school year was approaching and the girls were going back to Argentina. I was finally graduating. We got together one last time before they left. I played my guitar, they danced. We then crawled into bed together and made love thru the night. The next morning, I dressed, gave each girl a hug and kiss as we said our good byes. They asked, “You come to Argentina to visit us this winter when it is cold here and warm in Argentina.”

I replied, “I’ll try, but no promises.”

They flew out the next day.

I had gotten a job as a session guitarist at a local recording studio. I had to buy an acoustic guitar, an electric guitar and an electric bass to play all the different music I was expected to play. Groups and solo artist would rent the studio to produce their albums to distribute as they worked to get their big break. No big names came into the studio, but I continued to improve my playing. Evenings and weekends I still played classical guitar. I was invited back to the dance hall and played there regularly. I also continued to play at the park, but without the dancing girls, my income dropped back to the $30 – $50 range.

The girls and I traded emails and text on a regular basis. They were doing well but both were having difficulty catching on with a professional dance troupe. Maria had moved home to help her mother care for her ailing father. Jorge had some form of cancer and was not responding to the treatment very well. He was not expected to live to the end of the year.

Rosa had met a business man and there was talk of getting married although she had not been given an engagement ring yet.

I worked regularly at the studio as well as taking some gigs at a local bar. I saved my money with the hope of going to Argentina in the fall or winter. I was invited to try out for a band that was going to go on a tour, but after hearing them, I turned down the opportunity. It wasn’t the music I enjoyed playing.

Over the summer I met other girls. Most were impressed with my music and some would spend the night or weekend with me. They were nice and the sex was good, but Maria was still in my mind and on my computer. I frequently looked at the pictures I had taken of her. Sometimes I would run a slide show of her and Rosa as I played my guitar.

Labor Day weekend I got an email from Maria. Rosa was getting married in early December and they wanted me to play at the wedding. They would pay for the ticket. Maria hoped I would come and stay for a few months. I could stay at their Estancias and learn more about the music of the tango. They had guitars I could use so I would not need to bring mine. The idea appealed to me, so I agreed.

In mid October, I quit my job, packed my stuff and put it in storage. I sent my classical guitar to a luthier for some badly needed maintenance and told him I would not need it until after the first of the year.

I boarded the flight in New York and flew to Buenos Aires. It was a very long 11 hour flight. In Buenos Aires I over nighted before catching a 3 hour flight to Rio Gallegos where I was met by Maria. She leapt into my arms, her arms around my neck and kissed me passionately. Rosa was there as well and gave me a big kiss and hug. We gathered my luggage and jumped into a truck for a two hour drive north. I was beginning to realize how big Argentina was! It was beautiful with sweeping views to the mountains, and types of wildlife I was not familiar with. It made me wonder if this was what the American West was like a hundred years ago.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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