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 Another kind of Tango

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May Have No Life
May Have No Life

Number of posts : 1995
Age : 42
Location : On a magical musical tour with Gary
Fave Member : Gary all the way baby!
Registration date : 2008-01-28

PostSubject: Another kind of Tango   Mon Jan 28, 2008 9:26 pm

TITLE: Another kind of Tango (Rated 18+).
AUTHOR: Kumiko
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story own themselves and have something to do with Polydor (its all in the red tape). This is based on a real life person.
SETTING: 2006 London
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Okay, obviously this is made up and I don’t know how these rehearsals really go as I am only a fan. So this is all picked from my brain and since we know Gary is a sweetheart and I can’t imagine him cheating on his wife, we’ll assume he is single for fantasy’s sake.
This story is fiction only. Any event, location that may fit their real locations or connection between the characters and the fictional characters is purely coincidental.
Thanks for reading.


"No… what did I tell you… concentrate Gary…" his instructor insisted as once again the singer failed to complete the dance step he’d been shown many times already. Rehearsals were on a tight schedule; they were running out of time and the tour was so close. Everyone was feeling the pressure now and Gary was feeling it more, needing to prove that he could still do those vigorous dance moves they were all famous for ten years ago.

"I need a break," he called out, scratching the back of his head as he sighed in frustration. He moved towards the table and grabbed a bottle of water, tipping some over his head and the rest down his throat. Gasping, he licked his lips. It was a well-deserved drink.

"How about we do something else, to give you a break?" The woman suggested, smiling at him as she set her water back down on the table.

"Oh yeah? Like what?" he asked, rolling his eyes a little. His mind was focused on the chips smothered in gravy that he was planning on buying after this rehearsal, and then going to sleep for the afternoon. Long gone were the days where all he had to do was concentrate on singing and writing and the occasional clapping of hands while performing. Now he had to do those full dance routines all over again, the ones he’d almost forgotten, or at least had tried to. Whose idea was this again for Take That getting back together? Argh…

"Come on,"

"One more drink…"

"One more."

He took two, grinned cheekily then stepped toward her. His hands clasped together, as if praying that it wasn’t anything too vivacious.

"Tango…" she announced.

"Oh no… not the tango…anything but the tango," he protested.


"Cause…" But he couldn’t come up with a valid excuse for exactly why he didn’t want to rehearse that particular dance. Maybe it had something to do with whom was teaching him, but he'd never admit that, not even to himself. He knew, though, that he had to learn it fully or he would never be able to take part in that number and that would be a shame, not just for him but for his fans that eagerly waited to see if he still had it in him.

She took his hand anyway. "We’ll do the steps slowly, once without the music and then with…"

"Ah’m so gonna kill that bastard," he said, but the smirk on his face told her that he was joking, and, of course, he was talking about Howard. Whatever had possessed him with an idea like this, he didn’t know. He was a terrible dancer, he often professed.

"Oh come on, Gary, stop pouting…" the instructor teased. She positioned herself and then counted them in. They moved around each other, legs entwined as they danced. His countenance set as he concentrated, striving for perfection. It was easier without music, having no structured beat to keep up with.

"That was really good," she praised him as they ended that dance and broke away to turn on the music.

"You think you can do it to the song now?" She returned to his arms, taking his hands again and resumed her pose.

"Okay…" He sighed and waited for the music to start. His eyes locked with hers as he focused on the moves and how his body seemed to go so well with hers. He knew he wouldn’t be able to do it this well on stage. Maybe if he thought of her then, he would still be as good.

She led herself into a half turn and pressed up against him for a moment. It almost distracted him, causing him to lose concentration. Slowly she turned around and relaxed her arms and fell against him in the usual dance position. What happened? He couldn’t help but wonder. But he didn’t stop and instead continued as they moved in a simple two-step pattern.

He could feel her breath against his ear and a wave of pleasure filled his senses, washing through his body until it reached his groin and his eyes closed again as he tried desperately to gain control of himself. His body betrayed him, and he wondered if she had any idea what she was doing to him. He decided yes when she slid down to his waist. His arms tensed to hold her off the floor. He watched her. Hell, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, mesmerized by the temptress.

She moved back up slowly, twisting her hips purposefully, brushing against him enough to make squirm inwardly. It awakened a deep ache in him, a primal need pushing to the fore as she pressed against him. His arms slowly enclosed her body, pulling her close. One hand moved tentatively down her back, curving over her bum and then pulled up her thigh, encouraging her to curl her leg around his waist.

Hoisting her up into his arms, Gary marched them toward the piano and pressed her back against the edge, sandwiching her between the black polished wood and his body. Fingers dug into her thighs as he claimed her mouth and then pulled back, leaving her breath growing ragged. What the hell happened just then? He wondered briefly but didn’t have time to finish that thought as he found his lips crushed against hers again. His tongue swept the inside of her mouth, mapping and licking every inch as she moaned in response. The sound of her groan vibrated against the roof of his own as he pressed his groin insistently against her abdomen.

Pushing a little harder, to hold her steady against the grand piano, his hands found their way under her tee shirt and began gently kneading the soft mounds through the material of her bra. Her legs gripped tightly around his waist, hips rolling over him, causing his erection to swell under the pressure as he lifted her top to reveal her breasts.

Long fingers pushed away the fabric that contained her and his thumbs rolled over the sensitive buds as he invaded her mouth again with his tongue. He felt her quiver under his onslaught while breathing his name, hardening him further as she ground her hips into his and her hand clasped tufts of blonde hair at the back of his head.

"I want you so badly…," she murmured against his ear, giving him permission to go with his desires, which right then, had nothing to do with music or writing songs but everything to do with her.

A sort of growl escaped as he tried to answer, so he thought better not to speak at all; he’d only get tongue tied and probably spoil the mood. Instead he slipped his hand down her stomach to the waistband of her tracksuit bottoms and began pulling at them, easing them down over her hips and eventually managing to get one leg off without letting her touch the floor.

His hand crept along her bare leg and dipped between her thighs, pressing against the soft material of her panties, finding them to be damp. It pleased him. Carefully moving them aside, he brushed his thumb against the nub and then slid his fingers home. She gasped and bucked against his hand, legs squeezing tightly around him, pulling him closer and needing to find leverage so she didn’t end up on the floor. Not that he would let her; his free arm wrapped around her back, supporting her against the piano.

She was holding him so tightly, she could barely move. His longer fingers slid deeper and she whined his name as he wrapped his mouth around the sensitive mound and then moved to its counterpart, licking and sucking each one in turn. The mixture of sensations almost brought her to the edge.

Moments later he pulled his fingers out and her eyes opened, wondering why he had stopped. He pulled back slightly and pushed down his Nike tracksuit bottoms, placing his throbbing manhood at her entrance. Pushing carefully inside, he began to slowly slide in and out of her, at a very maddening pace.

"Oh, god…," she moaned, tipping her head back. Her arms tightened around his neck and she pulled at him to bring herself back up again and rest her mouth against his shoulder, trying to muffle the moans and cries that escaped her. Their bodies ground together as he thrust harder and deeper, feeling himself coming apart at the seams. The piano behind them hummed from the vibrations as they rocked against it.

She felt the pressure building against her core. A large hand gripped tightly on her bum, pulling her harder onto him, trying to bury himself deeper if that was at all possible. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on their bodies. She clutched at his cotton tee shirt, holding on to the last remains of sanity.

So close… just so close.

He felt her contracting muscles grip him as her back arched, pressing her breast flat against his chest. She cried out, her twitching body slamming down against him, drawing his own orgasm as he pushed her over and filled her, both dancer and singer climaxing hard together. White heat prickling behind his eyes, his world started to spin out of control, forcing him to grab onto the edge of the piano to support them.

Her body eventually relaxed around him as she drew him into a hug, lightly kissing him. His body stayed embedded in hers, and her legs remained wrapped around his waist, locking him there where she wanted him.

"Well, that was a different kind of tango…" he finally admitted.

She rose her head from his chest and a smile animated her face. "Did I ever tell you, you’re my favourite student?"

"Don’t tell the rest of the boys. I don’t want to be accused of being teacher's pet…" he grinned.

"Your secret is safe with me," she grinned back with a kiss.

Hearing a faint clatter followed by talking and bursts of laughter, both Gary and the Tango instructor quickly parted, fumbling around for their clothes before anyone entered the studio.

"Now, Gary… you have to twist your hips further…" she said. Their hands locked into each other’s firmly, resuming the tango position as the door behind them opened.

"Come one, Gaz, move those hips," Jason teased, approached the dancing couple to watch.

Howard sat at the piano, tinkering at the ivories as Mark grabbed a bottle of water and pulled himself up on the table, cheering his friend on. "Come on, Gaz, show us what ya’ve got…" he chuckled.

"I don’t think they’ve been practising at all," Jason commented.

"Nah, I don’t either." Howard looked up at his best mate and grinned. "So what have you been doing all this time?"

"Dancing…" Gary quipped. It was just a different kind of dance and he would never elaborate.
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PostSubject: Re: Another kind of Tango   Sat Apr 12, 2008 11:31 am

Whistle Shifty


You tried your best and you failed miserably. The lesson is 'never try'. Homer Simpson
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May Have No Life
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Registration date : 2008-01-28

PostSubject: Re: Another kind of Tango   Sat Apr 12, 2008 9:11 pm

OMFG! Its the pic!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Hot Hot Hot Hot Hot Hot Hot Hot

An Artistic Journey
“You are the music while the music lasts.” - T S Eliot.
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PostSubject: Re: Another kind of Tango   Sat Apr 12, 2008 9:22 pm

Your oneshots are weapons of mass distructions !!!!

Laugh Laugh Laugh Laugh Laugh

Shower Shower Shower Shower Shower Shower


“When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile."
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