I'm sitting on the couch with my guitar teacher, the gatarre on my lap. This is already the fifth music lesson he gives me, but somehow I still can not play the guitar, although I try so hard. The feeling of having a guitar on my lap, feeling the polished wood and the vibration when I strike his side makes me somehow. I really enjoy every week when he comes to me to teach me something new. He's embarrassed me the last few times, not only does he look amazing, he's always flirting with me. It's not that easy to concentrate on playing when distracted. Of course, I can not help but reciprocate his advances with my most adorable laugh. But what are we doing there? No, that's not possible, he's my teacher ... But ***ay he's totally different. When I do not meet the sounds again ..
