26 Apr My last reincarnation (2)
My last reincarnation is the second chapter of Stanislaw, the erotic story about a student and his teacher. Check it if you didn’t read it to find out who is this young Polish fine arts teacher. And who was I, by that time.
That was the first —and only— awkward moment I ever had with Stanislaw. I tried not to take any sort of conclusions about the fact he changed tap water for Vodka. I was so young and unaware of strategies, but he probably didn’t have a plan either.
He was still sitting on his chair, a little away from the close position we were always working. Even seated, or precisely because of that, I could see his intriguing bulge. If he laid back I’d think he’d be signalising something willingly.
He didn’t though. Sitting there straight, looking inside my eyes and wondering. Like a teacher during an exam, wondering if I was cheating. Could he read my thought with his amazing grey eyes? Would he check my own bulge? I feared it was shrinking because of that moment of uncertainty.
His short blond hair was close to the electric lamp he always put on the drawing table. Outside the window the night had already fallen. I wanted to touch his fine and golden hair. And his beautiful ears. I would try to remember his precious shapes to draw them at home.
But, was there a meaning to just some ears? Just a mouth or just some beautiful hands. I guess I was in love with the whole Stanislaw. A presence I could never draw. He wasn’t here in this world for me to draw him.
He used his two hands to grab his chair by the base without getting up, and lifted it carefully to place it closer to me. My fellow students used to move around like that in the classroom. There was a silent authority in that move.
I started to have a hard-on again and needed desperately to fit my dick comfortably inside my pants. But I restrained from doing it. It would have been gross.
The silence was absolute. I wonder if Stanislaw could also hear the dripping of the soft rain outside.
Then I heard the pouring of some liquid into a glass. He filled both little glasses each with just two fingers of Vodka and handed one of them to me. We were still staring into our eyes.
My chest was about to explode because of my heartbeats. I had never had any sort of intimacy with anyone. The fear was also about what to do if Stanislaw expected something more from me. I needed him to guide me so badly. He was my teacher in drawing, though I hoped he could teach me… some more.
Stanislaw held the two glasses in his hands, which he then put very close to mine and his face. There were a couple centimetres between my face, the glasses and his nose. He signalised I should offer my glass to his lips and his to mine. It felt like a ritual. Something meaningful.
I could smell the strong alcohol, but when I was about to put my lips on the glass, Stanislaw threw the glasses away. They fell on the wooden floor, under the drawing table. That scared me, but he came close to my lips before I could ever react, pressing his lips against mine.
He slowly put his wonderful hand around my neck. It felt he wanted to make sure I wasn’t rejecting him. In other words, giving me no other option than accepting him.
At that time I think I was unable to describe my feelings. For sure very excited, but also confused. I never imagined he could take the lead, I always imagined raping him against his will.
Little by little, Stanislaw moved his tongue humidifying my lips. He watched through my eyes and so deep inside my soul trying to recognise something he needed to know desperately. He wasn’t very sure about everything..
I did the same to him using my tongue to draw the shape of his lips. It felt so prohibited in many ways. Finally I could break the real world and love him. It was sexually exciting not only for myself. To him as well. That communion felt whirly and soul deep.
How do you watch a treasure you knew was there. For both os us. Though there was the fear that it could all vanish the next second.
Stanislaw kissed me deeper, very carefully. We were looking inside each other’s eyes all the time. He wasn’t just anybody, a random guy.
Again, who was Stanislaw?
The hypnotist asked me again.
I lost him in a previous life.
His precious hands
I can’t say when it started, but we were caressing each other’s necks and heads. I also brushed his perfect ears with my fingertips. His face so close to mine felt like a privilege I wasn’t ready to have, no matter how much I longed for it. I could see his beautiful eyebrows, so carefully drawn by nature. Short blond hair over his amazing grey eyes. But I was scared to look deeper inside his eyes.
Stanislaw unfastened some of the first buttons of my shirt. I did the same, and discovered his beautiful chest. Hairy and strong. I had never thought how sexy a male nipple could be, and my eyes froze on his. We timidly smiled. Maybe because we were expected to smile. Nothing really fun was happening. It was exciting yet intriguing.
He kissed my nipples while we were still sitting on those student chairs. We stood up at the same time, my chair fell back. One of the pencils rolled down the drawing table. I still remember the quirky wooden sound before the pencil neared the Vodka stain.
Stanislaw closed the curtains because we could be seen from any opposite window. The street was so narrow that the next building was just four meters away.
We hugged desperately. So strong it was almost aching. He looked at me again and again, nodding his head like in disbelief of what was happening.
Those hugs brought us so close together that we felt each other penises. We were the same size, about 6 feet. So our penises where bumping against each other.
My dick felt like ejaculating. I was as hard as himself, and we started rubbing against each other. There was still that sort of respect of getting to know each other, I guess. We were cautious, but desire was unstoppable and aching. I suffered in the fear of climaxing. I guessed there was more to come, so I did my best to hold back.
Both our dicks explored each other over our pants’ fabric. That felt incredibly sexy, and Stanislaw started groaning. His deep voice was hurting, and the room filled with a new universe of stimulations that had never been there before. Sound, skin, excitement. The danger of sex.
Every now and then Stanislaw put his hands on my shoulders and looked at me. As his student? As if he wanted to memorise me and then draw me in case I left. The same thought I had had a few moments before. But we were there, and there was no need to draw each other but something meaningful.
I could touch him all over his face and body. And maybe his dick too? We were still wearing our pants. I saw a wet stain on his bulge. Our shirts were unbuttoned but we hand’t removed them yet.
Stanislaw didn’t speak. His eyes talked instead, and I understood it was time to move. He took my hand and guided me out the studio. All the doors faced to a short corridor. Until then I had only used the door to the narrow stairwell.
His bedroom was humble. I had never seen it before. A medium size mattress, a chair, a lamp on a small table and a wooden closet. One of the closet doors had a vertical oval mirror. The mirror had its own light inside that dimmed atmosphere. I could’t tell how high the ceiling was.
The oval mirror
There was a third person in the room, I saw him standing inside the mirror. I froze but immediately understood it was me. I didn’t recognise myself in my previous reincarnation.
During that hypnosis session I still hadn’t seen myself. It was then when I knew my eyes were blue and I was much blonder than in my present life.
The mirror showed me how Stanislaw kneeled down in front of me and opened my pants. My dick jumped out like a spring against his nose. I was already dripping, and his nose got humid from that unforeseen slap. He looked up into my face with a timid smile. I must say I had a very nice dick in that former life!
I rarely got to see his teeth. As opposed to his jaw, broad and strong, his teeth were small.
It was still unbelievable that I was there, in his room. I could see us inside the oval mirror. My teacher was on his knees in front of me.
When I thought he was going to suck me, he got up. So I knelt down too to remove his pants. I had been so curious about his dick, and that moment had finally come.
Of course I had seen a couple dicks, but never that close —in my face—, never that hard and never willing to be mine.
Before opening his buttons I draw my nose along his dick. It was placed horizontally inside his underwear, and it pulsed like my own crazy heartbeat. I didn’t know how to express my adoration. Not just for his dick, but for the whole Stanislaw person.
My dick was pulsing, I felt the urge to masturbate but I chose to please him.
He moved his hips against my face, I guess he was passionately impatient. So I opened the bigger button. It was difficult since his dick was tightening the cloth so much. Then I finally opened the smaller buttons inside. I could see his yellow underwear. As I pushed his linen pants down I was facing his bulge, one inch from my face.
I smelled him. That was an amazing smell of an adult man. Stanislaw was just 22, but 5 years was a huge difference in my eyes. His body and his virile energy felt so unachievable to me.
His dick filled a long curve inside his underwear. I still had not seen the tip of it. It was curved in a way that his head was pressed to his side. I started to be aware of its inner life once it pulsed again. The wet stain was growing on the fabric.
He was smiling when I looked up to him. Stanislaw was impatient but also savouring each second of those miraculous moments.
Finally I decided to uncover his dick. And what I saw was a masterpiece. I would have never imagined a dick like his. The same pale color as his chest skin. Hairy. I instantly fell in love with his golden brown pubic hair.
Thick, with many veins and knots embracing it all around, and a tight foreskin that was starting to reveal his wet gland. The small opening in his foreskin was juicy, I could’t think of any other word. His balls were round, covered with a thick wrinkled skin. Hanging heavily. His virile scent got more intense, and i could have climaxed just like that. With the sole view and smell!
There was also some urine smell I didn’t expect. It felt dangerously exciting.
Tenderness is a weakness
His dick clashed on my face once it got released from his underwear. It felt heavy and hard, his skin warm and soft. I tried to memorise it in case that was the only time I could see it.
Stanislaw didn’t let me explore it with my mouth. Instead he put his hands under my armpits to lift me up. We kissed again, I saw his face was changing into very emotional. He started to cry.
Why was he crying?
Suddenly I got aware that I was describing a sexual act to that Brazilian hypnotist. Maybe he wasn’t gay and that story was uncomfortable to him.
Stanislaw’s grey eyes were drowning behind his shining tears, his smile distorted like a sad boy’s would.
There wasn’t anything I could ask him. So I embraced him very tight. Very tight. He sobbed and I could sense his body shaking like a young boy would. His fragility shocked me but also brought up something I wasn’t aware of at that age.
We lay down on the bed. The mattress was high. Climbing on it meant to me the privilege of stepping inside Stanislaw’s most hidden territories of his soul. I kept my eyes locked inside his, and he never let go watching me for the next hours. He caressed my face and kept my head inside his big hands.
There were a lot of question marks in his look, but he didn’t say anything. And I didn’t ask.
Side to side, we caressed each other’s hairy chests. We were both extremely hard, our dicks were pulsing. The sound of rain was still echoing between the walls in the small street.
The need for more
Those were moments of silent thoughts, but feeling the warmth and smell of his skin was so exciting to me. He grabbed my dick and felt it was hard. So hard that he started masturbating me.
If everything I was experiencing with him was a forbidden privilege, that was even deeper. We never stopped looking inside each other’s eyes while we jerked off.
His stiffness and power were asking for more and more. And I wanted everything, whatever it took. I didn’t care the height I was going to jump from. I wasn’t aware where I was going to jump in either.
Stanislaw’s own world.
Finally I was not only caressing, but grabbing his dick. Not a random dick, for the record. Stanislaw’s!
Climax was so close that I feared to come too early. Since that was my first time I had no idea about and if a sexual act had any protocols or scripts. Television shows and movies were censored. Anyway, I trusted Stanislaw’s lead.
This story goes on here: Grey eyes.
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