The Tango Workshop

"So you are saying anything goes," she responded.

"If it's properly consensual, then yes," I confirmed.

"What was that stuff you had on your fingers?" she asked.

"Come, I'll show you," I said and led her back to the bedroom.

I showed her the small, black, plastic tube with the gold writing in Portuguese.

"It says 'Clitoral stimulating gel. Use in moderation.' I've never found anything like it outside Brazil. You only need a touch but if you are really soaking wet as I can be, then it can dilute the effect," I explained. "But be warned, it tastes terrible."

"Here, it's yours," I went on, handing her the tube. "I can get more anytime back home."

"Thank you, thank you, I'll make it last," she said, leaning forward to kiss my cheek.

"Are you ready for something to eat?" I asked.

"Yes, I'm famished," she replied.

We studied the room service menu, hummed and hawed for a while and finally made our choices. I phoned through the order and then went to wrap myself in the cotton bath robe that was hanging in the bathroom. I also found a long T-shirt that was in my bag.

"You might be more comfortable in this," I said, handing her the T-shirt. "Let's tidy the bed. You can hide in the bathroom when the order gets delivered. I've got a bottle of wine in the bar fridge, would you like a glass?"

She accepted, I poured two glasses and we sat and talked while we waited.

"Can I ask you some personal questions?" she asked.

"Go ahead," I replied. "I've nothing to hide from you."

"Have you ever been with a man?" she asked.

I was expecting it would be something of that kind and I was happy to answer.

"Just two of them," I responded. "The first time, I was having an affair with a Dutch woman who I was staying with for a while back in South Africa. She was mainly lez but liked to go with a certain guy from time to time. She got me to give it a try and we had a threesome. He was very gentle but it was a bit of a stretch at first. When he got himself properly inside it was OK and in the end I quite liked the sensations but it wasn't anywhere near enough for me to want to change my persuasion."

"And then?" she asked again.

"I met up with a guy in London who I had first known years earlier at ballet school," I told her. "I thought he was gay but he told me he was actually bi. He was very good looking and had a nice body as you might expect for a dancer. We had several interesting encounters over a few months and I got to learn something about male sexuality and a little more about myself. If the right opportunity arises, I'll do it again, but it's very rare for me to meet a man who I find sexually attractive and is available."

"What about Stefan. Would you have had a threesome with us?" she asked.

"If it was the right place and the right time, and it was OK with you, then yes," I replied. "I know he is much older but that wouldn't matter. I think he is a very cool guy and I've liked dancing with him. I think he could be a very considerate lover. But as things stand, I think it would have encroached far too much on you and me."

"So how did you get together with Stefan?" I asked after a brief pause.

"I was his P.A.," she replied. "He travelled a lot in his job and I would often go with him. He was a very handsome guy, divorced and I was free, so it was kind of inevitable that we would end up in bed together. I'd had quite a few boyfriends but the experience with him was in a different league."

"So you became his wife," I said.

"Yes," she went on. "I realised that our age difference would one day come into play but he is a good man and he has given me a good life. He doesn't have any of those hang-ups and insecurities that you see in so many men. If he was like them, I might very well not be here."

"I hope you will tell him 'thank you' and give him a big kiss from me," I said.

At that point there was a tap on the door and Georgina scurried to the bathroom. I opened up and a waiter duly placed a large tray on the small coffee table. I gave him a handful of pesos and told him I would leave the tray outside later.

"Muchas gracias," he said and went on his way.

I recall perfectly well what I had because I have often repeated the combination in the years since then: it was a bruschetta of cream cheese, chives, smoked salmon, bacon and mango chutney. As I recall, for Georgina it was something with a poached egg because I thought of it as being very English. It was light food for both of us but after another glass of wine we were both sufficiently replete.

We chatted a while longer and she told me more about how her sex life with Stefan had once been fulfilling but had gradually diminished and faded away. She said that she would never leave him but maybe there would be another woman she might meet. It was a sad tale but she was nevertheless upbeat.

I thought about suggesting lesbian escort girls or massage "therapist" girls, both of which I had used myself when I was living in London and my work life was too hectic to readily engage with a partner in a more traditional way. They had been lovely girls and it had worked well for me, but I listened to my intuition which was telling me not to pursue the matter. So there was something I did hide from her, at least at that time.

"It's my turn to please you," she said, standing up and stripping off the T-shirt.

"Just stay there like that," I said, losing the bathrobe and moving towards her naked body. "I know you want to please me but I want you to know that it really turns me on just to look at you like this. You look so slender but you have beautiful soft curves as well. And I love to watch you move, especially as you did when you were climaxing. I love the way you feel when I touch you and when you are against me. I'm telling you all this so that you know how much you've pleased me already."

She came closer and put her arms around me.

"You have a way of saying such beautiful things to me," she said. "I never think of myself in those ways but it's wonderful to hear."

"If you put your hand between my legs, you will find all the evidence you need that everything I said about my being turned on by you is nothing but the truth."

I opened my legs a little and her hand went to my pussy.

"Wow," she said, "even your thighs are wet. What do you want me to do?"

"Play around down there for a while and hold on to me," I told her.

Her fingers probed and fondled and explored the crevices as I pressed my body against her relishing her touch.

"There's something I'd love to do," I said.

"Just tell me," she responded.

"I'd like you to let me use your body to stimulate myself," I said.

"What should I do," she asked looking a little puzzled.

"Just lie tummy down on the bed and leave it to me, but we'd better get the towel," I told her.

With the towel in place she spread herself on the bed with slightly parted legs and I straddled her hips so that I could softly rub her back and sense her body. Then I moved over her catlike so that I could brush my breasts against her skin from her shoulders, over her bum and along the back of her thighs, absorbing, consuming even, the sensuality of her. I settled straddling one of her thighs, as close to her bum as I could get, to grind myself against her silky flesh. By slightly adjusting my position I could alternate between the back of her thigh and one of the firm round globes of her bottom.

"That feels so incredibly erotic," she said.

"For me too," I responded.

The stimulation of my clit together with my sense of the woman whose body I was using to pleasure myself had me trembling with arousal but I wanted Georgina to have the final say. I climbed off her and lay back by her side with legs spread wide.

"Come and finish me off," I said.

In a flash she was there with her tongue circling around and the fingers of each hand caressing my inner lips. By crooking my neck I could look down at her but all I could see was a mass of black hair covering her face. I lay back again and let the orgasm erupt and flow through me. It had been a long time waiting in anticipation and it was all the better and deeper for that.

I worked myself up onto my elbows and Georgina was still there kneeling up between my legs and looking into my face. She had one hand against her pussy and the other was softly stroking my leg.

"That was incredible," she said, "and I'm so turned on by it all."

"If you want to use your fingers, I'll do the same and we can watch each other. It will be very intimate and very lovely, I promise," I said.

"OK then," she said, "let's do it."

I eased myself back so I could support myself on the headboard and opened my legs wide. She crawled nearer, then sat back on her haunches with her knees apart.

I spread my pussy lips and began to softly stroke the side of my clit. It was still very sensitive and, unlike Georgina, I doubted that I'd be able to cum again so soon. I had to go gently and even the slightest touch on the very tip sent a quiver through me. I looked to her and her gaze seemed fixed on my pussy and fingers. One of her hands was cupping a breast and the other moved steadily between her legs. She was breathing in sighs and her pelvis was moving back and forth in rhythm with her hand.

The best way for me to cum again, if I was ever going to, was to hump myself against the palm of my hand so I slid down the bed just a little so that I could still watch Georgina, cupped my pussy and began to work on myself.

It wasn't long before she said that she was very close and I saw her hand was moving rapidly through her thighs. She let go of her breast and used the arm and hand to support herself as she fell back into shudders and groans for the third time that evening. I watched, entranced, and thought to myself that whatever inhibitions she might have started out with, it seemed that they had long since disappeared through the hotel window. Perhaps it was the conversation she'd had with herself at lunchtime, or perhaps it was the hotel room effect, or perhaps a combination of the two.

My pussy pulsed in my hand, not so much an orgasm as a sympathetic reaction to Georgina's.

"My God," she said as we lay side by side, "the things I'm discovering in this short time with you."

We half dozed together for a while and once again it was the call of nature that roused us and we took turns in the bathroom. We were both feeling dehydrated so I opened a bottle of mineral water from the bar fridge, thinking that it was no sooner in at one end than it was out at the other. We went on to wine and we sat for a while and talked.

"It's been a crazy whirlwind of experiences for me," she said. "I've never had three orgasms in a night in my life before and I never even thought I would be capable of it."

"I thought I might be taking you a bit too far," I said, "especially for this last hour or so."

"It was certainly different for me and nothing like what I expected but I'm so glad you did," she responded. "It's been the most erotic experience of life and I loved every moment."

"Well, sometimes when you take a risk it pays off," I said.

"It's not only here tonight," she said, "you've opened my eyes to so many things. You are an amazing woman."

"Thank you," I responded, "but I'm not so amazing that I can last forever. I'm so sorry to tell you this but I get to the stage where exhaustion takes over and I suddenly drop. I can feel myself on the edge of that right now. In six hours, I will be just fine."

"I can see it in your eyes," she said, "but don't worry about anything. I'm putting you to bed."

She pulled back the bed covers and I duly took my place. There's nothing more I remember of the evening after that.

*

I woke with a start the next morning, with very low sunlight filtering through the curtains. Automatically I looked at the alarm clock and it read something like 6.30. I looked around and knew that Georgina had gone.

I made my way to the dresser and switched on the kettle. Lying next to it was a sheet of the hotel note paper filled with very neat handwriting. My mouth was parched, so I first made coffee then sat down on the edge of the bed to read. I still have the note dated 23 March 1993. This is just an extract because she included things that I wish to keep to myself. Here it is:

"My Dearest Gill,

Your last words to me were: "Maybe in a future life ...". I had to bite my lip to hold on to my tears because it expressed my feelings so perfectly. Your eyes closed and you dropped, just as you said. I stayed with you for a while and you were dead to the world.

I'm sorry that I deserted you but I thought it was for the best. And I didn't want you to see my tears. They were tears of sadness, yes, but they were also tears of pure joy for what I had experienced with you.

...

I will never be able to thank you enough and I will never forget this short time we had together, never ever.

All my love,

XXX - Georgina.

PS - I hope you enjoy your breakfast.

PPS - I took the clit gel, Thank You, and hopefully I can make it last forever.

PPPS - Sorry about the toilet, I didn't flush for fear of disturbing you."

I'm not the tearful type but her note tugged at my heart strings and my eyes clouded over. I sat for a while with a thousand thoughts running through my mind. I looked around the room and noticed that the room service tray had disappeared and the bath robe and my T-shirt were neatly folded and lying on a chair. The wine glasses had been washed and were standing on a napkin on the dresser and I could see no trace of the towel we had been using..

I walked around the room taking deep breaths, fighting back the tears, and there was a tap on the door. I quickly grabbed the T-shirt and dragged it over my head, then answered.

"Your breakfast order ma'am," said the waiter.

I accepted the tray even though, not surprisingly, I had neglected to leave an order outside the door the previous evening. I quickly realised it must have been Georgina's work. I looked at the tray and there was a bowl of strawberries covered in cling film, a croissant, a tub of vanilla yoghurt, a pot of coffee and plate with a metal cover. I removed the cover and there was a couple of rashers of crispy bacon, a slice of smoked salmon, a poached egg in the middle and a garnish of Italian parsley. It was a combination of the two dishes we had eaten for supper. It wasn't something from the standard menu so she must have gone to some lengths to arrange it. There was no more holding back the tears.

Normally, I would have gone out for a run around the neighbourhood as I had done the previous morning but there was a hugely important matter at hand for me. I slowly sketched out how I wanted to respond to Georgina and then carefully formulated it into a letter. I could have picked up the phone but I somehow know she still has my letter, as I have hers, whereas a phone call would have been upsetting and could all too easily fade from memory over the years.

It's in the nature of brief encounters that they come to an abrupt end. I had experienced it before and I knew that I would internalise and accept it, and in the meantime life had to go on. After years of ballet training, the mantra that you don't miss a class unless you are on your deathbed was sill ingrained so I began to get myself together. I ate the breakfast with feelings of gratitude for Georgina's thoughtfulness and knowing I would need the energy to get me through the day. By 08.30 I was in the hotel foyer and left my letter with the hotel desk clerk who placed it in Georgina and Stefan's key slot. The taxi ride to the studio took its usual, wild course and I was there with time to spare.

The day unfolded very much as the previous two and I put on my "performance face", something I had learned at ballet school. For all that I tried to focus, flashbacks of Georgina played through my mind and I knew they would continue at least for as long as I was in Buenos Aires. As things came to a close, I thanked Martina and Roberto for their time with me and reflected to myself that three one hour classes with them would have been all I really needed from the point of view of tango.

Back at the hotel, I collected my room key and the desk clerk handed me a small package that was also there. I noticed that my letter to Georgina had disappeared and I enquired if they were still in the hotel. The clerk told me that they had left an hour or so earlier.

There were no traces of the previous evening's activities in my room; it looked spick and span as hotel rooms usually do. I opened the package and found a blue presentation box which read "Zagatto Joyas - Buenos Aires" on its lid. Inside the box was a silver version of the pendant and chain that Georgina had worn two nights earlier. There was a small card as well which read "I hope you wear it often and that it will always remind you of me. XXX - Georgina."

I felt as if I should have cried but perhaps there were no more tears left. Instead I took it out of the case and examined the detail. It was a weighty piece, a tag inside the case said "Sterling Silver", the construction and detail were fascinating and I couldn't figure out just how it had been constructed. I went to try it on and it hung perfectly, just as Georgina's had. In its blue case, it remains my most precious item of jewellery but I don't need it to remember her.