Passion

I love dancing. I love flamenco. Technically I know I am good but sadly, I don’t quite have that passion yet. I have seen many flamenco shows both actual and in videos. I know it is a passionate dance but I understood for the first time what the dance is all about. 

In Seville a few months back, i watched a tablao performance of flamenco in Casa del Memoria. Not the balletic flamenco of Sara Baras. Not the explosive flamenco of Maria Pages. But the the passionate flamenco that comes from the soul, the flamenco that has duende.

It was absolutely so frenetic, so passionate, so hot. I was horny watching her dance. I imagined her naked and writhing in bed. And the man – he was smouldering and so full of vitality. You imagine how the lovemaking would be like. You imagine splayed legs and thrusting hips and tongue all over. Hot and heavy.

Coupled with the wine, it made me heady. Good thing I was with O. If it were another I might have agreed to a one night stand. *wink*

And I thought about it. Could I do that? Could I dance with abandon? Could I shed my inhibitions? Yet, that is the part of me that I try to bury in order to succeed in this life. I am afraid to let go. I am afraid of the consequences.

 

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