Sebastião

Sebastião erotic story

Sebastião

Sebastião was the professional hypnotist who took me on a trip to a former reincarnation. You can read what happened during his session and how I met Stanislaw if you missed it.

Sebastião showed up at the little bar while I was sitting on a high stool.

He was a dark skinned mix, he said in Brazil his skin tone is named “moreno jambo”. Apparently there is a name for every hue. By the way, didn’t Stanislaw teach me that every color has a name. I feared that regression would have a strong impact in my life from then on.

I told him that night, after the session that brought me back to a former life I had been unable to sleep. The regression showed me the amazing love story I had with that Polish arts teacher. Somewhere I had never been —in this life— and during a period of time I imagined much before my birth.

Despite insisting so much that I needed to retake the regression to that past life, Sebastião said he wasn’t able. The reason he tried to explain was that hypnosis is not a science. You can’t request a specific trip. Instead, what we get to see are not our preferences but meaningful situations than can be of help for the present life.

After that frustrated and angry argument of mine he calmed me down by saying he needed introduce me to someone. He mentioned a Raul guy. I was so heart-broken about Stanislaw that I hoped that guy could complete that regression.

Actually I believed so much in that regression trip because Stanislaw felt absolutely real to me. That trip to a previous reincarnation had awakened a knowledge that had been there, but frozen. Meeting a person is like opening a door. A door once you open, you can’t close again.

Wake up in Rio

So meeting that Raul guy felt extremely urgent. Sebastião was taking me to meet Raul. And that was the start of the intriguing trip of the day!

Sebastião, the dark Brazilian, tried to convince me to take it less seriously.

That Stanislaw guy is real. Now I know I loved him. I need to go on inside that other life. Present life is not so interesting now.

Maybe the message you are being handed is precisely to focus on the present.

I couldn’t see any message like that in the regression. Anyway, Sebastião was trying to act in a seducing way by letting me know how wonderful life is. His smile was white, broad and filled with hope and joy. It was infectious but I wasn’t interested.

With all the beautiful things Rio de Janeiro had to offer, and I was obsessed with another time and another place!

Sebastião

This “carioca” —which means he was born in Rio— was almost as tall as me. He was broad, a little overweight, but had a sexy spark all over. The pure white linen shirts and pants he was wearing were a sort of personal brand. And always flip-flops, as almost everyone in Rio. Most of his thick fingers were decorated with golden and bronze rings. A few of them had some red or blue stones embossed.

Suddenly a VW van stopped right in front of the little bar. While I thought it was the typical surfer van from the 70’s an amazing black man jumped out and threw the keys over to Sebastião, who caught them in the air. I was impressed by that young man, but he literally disappeared.

Sebastião showed me the passenger door and I jumped in. The first thing Sebastião did was turning off the “pagode” radio station. The engine was still on, so he just grabbed the wheel, kicked the gas pedal and away we were driving.

Should I know something about Raul before meeting him?

No.

Sebastião tried to explain the places we were driving through. Especially as the traffic got thicker and we were waiting for long moments for the traffic lights to open. Cantagalo, Lagoa, Jardim Botânico, Gávea…

I already know all these places.

You probably had a former incarnation here i Rio!

Actually I lived here ten years ago. But in this life.

Sebastião wasn’t surprised at all, but he kept silent. We entered the tunnel from the PUC University to Rocinha. The tunnel felt long and dark. I somehow felt that tunnel was a metaphor to explain past lives.

The tunnel

Before we could ever guess the way out to the light, he said:

You can’t be in two tunnels at the same time.

Silence.

The speedy van we were traveling in emerged in front of the favela called Rocinha, and the open windows let the noise of the people, the music and the traffic come in. That was precisely when he turned on the radio.

Shortly after São Conrado, the highway split into two levels. We were driving on the upper, and below the traffic coming from the opposite direction. That was my turn:

But two tunnels can be parallel.

Sebastião chuckled.

Don’t get obsessed with that story. You’d be going the wrong direction.

Before that moment I didn’t even think about Sebastião. Somehow he was trying to push me away from Stanislaw.

I started to look at him in a different way. Yes, he was bold, not really fat, but had a sexy smile, a sexy head. His arms were strong and thick. You couldn’t say he was muscularly defined. While he was driving, it was hard to see his basket. The white linen shirt fell over his lap hiding it totally. He had some really thick legs. And sexy feet.

His profile was virile, with that fancy haircut simulating a line on his right side, dividing his hair from the front to the top go his head. That was something men can do when they have longer hair to comb aside. So on his short hair it was like a joke. I guess he was about 35.

Leaving Rio

He didn’t mention where we were driving to. The only thing he told me at the breakfast bar is we would be coming back the next day. The math I did in my head was telling me the regression with Raul would last at least the whole night.

Is Raul very far?

Not really.

He kept driving for almost three hours.

Some places awoke remembrances from my past years in Rio. Ten years had changed those spots a lot. New buildings for the Olympic games, a sort of tramway which actually was a bus shuttle.

Every now and then I remembered parts of my story with Stanislaw. I didn’t mention it to Sebastião, but I guess he sort of knew it.

The trip, my thoughts, the warm air coming in the windows got me many hard-ons. I think I slept for some minutes. And I wonder if Sebastião noticed my hard-on. Well, after all I didn’t know anything more about him.

Since I knew most of the places, I kept track of the itinerary. We left the big city of Rio, crossing all those little quarters that were already weld. There was no way to tell when you entered or exited Rio das Pedras, Freguesia, Taquara or Marechal Hermes.

Before Sebastião used a quite winding street I could recognise Nova Iguaçú. The area was much less populated, and the houses, between big banana trees, were all self made one storey shacks. There were no lines drawn on the street, no traffic signs. Every now and then a bar with people in shorts and tanks having a beer. Children in colourful little clothes running in all directions.

Come with me

Sebastião bent off onto a muddy street. He needed to drive really slow to avoid all the holes and stones. He stopped in front of a humble building. Some black children ran out the door to greet us.

I jumped down the van and got inside the budding while all those little girls and boys were laughing and screaming at me. They wanted to play.

An old woman with white hair was sitting inside the dark house, he religiously kissed her on the front. After some sweet and caring words she told us Raul wasn’t there. She didn’t have a clue about his plans.

Didn’t you call him? —the European in me asked.

He doesn’t have a phone.

No surprise since I already lived there. Whatever.

The long way

Sebastião wasn’t nor angry nor surprised. He shared our next plans.

Raul is sometimes in Prainha, close to Recreio.

Thats’a very nice place! Are we going there next?

Yep!

Somehow I knew Raul wasn’t going to be there. Anyway, we could have a nice swim there!

What is Raul’s age?

Sebastião was surprised about my question.

My age. He is my cousin.

Until then I thought he’d be a much older man, if he had the skills and wisdom to manage such uncommon trips to former lives.

Honestly, I enjoyed that van trip, no matter if we weren’t going to find Raul. We stopped at a little place where Sebastião ordered home made lunch. Rice, black beans and fried chicken. He had a couple beers. Since I wasn’t driving I treated myself to a quite leaded Caipirinha.

After we had our “cafezinho” I got up to the toilet. While I was peeing, the door opened. Sebastião placed himself tightly next to me, inside the same little room. To my surprise, he unzipped his white linen pant and a thick black sausage popped out. His penis was really massive, as himself, and had a prominent head, uncut, which started to show an equally massive pink gland. The spring of pee was loud and abundant. His peeing pressure was twice mine, I don’t know if he willingly pushed his urine out the bladder to get it done quicker.

Being shocked was compatible with having an instant hard-on though. Too soon for my taste, he hid his soft penis back, looked at me with a grin and left me sanding there like a fool.

Recreio

During the rest of the trip to Recreio I thought about that leak. I didn’t want to ask him if that show was a move, or if it was normal that people traveling together do also pee together. After all you never know everything about a country as big and diverse as Brazil.

The trip got much lighter as we found a radio station airing all the classic “pagode” hits. We sang together:

Deixa acontecer naturalmente, eu não quero ver você chorar. Deixa que o amor encontra a gente…

Translated:

Let it happen naturally, I don’t want to see you cry. Let love come tu us…

Every now and then I also remembered his massive dark penis. It was absolutely matching his massive body. It’s funny I thought that bigger guys are smaller.

It was obvious that Sebastião was hatching a certain plan with me. He also pulled the cloth of his crotch every now and then. Yet it was impossible to see if he was having erections while driving. His shirt decently covered his lap.

Sebastião's dick

Sebastião’s dick

Well, maybe I was wrong and it was just wishful thinking.

The air was warm when we arrived to Recreio. We still were a few minutes away from Prainha, and I started to bug him again.

So is there something I should know about Raul?

Nothing at all. I told you! He’s a nice guy.

Do you think he will help us with a regression to see Stanislaw?

Most probably.

So it’s not for sure.

Three’s nothing for sure in this life.

And he added:

Paco.

That sounded as a:

“Give me a break!”

But he was smiling.

The way to Prainha was filled with people of all hues, some of them patiently walking, some riding back home on their bicycles. How come the most attractive ones were carrying big surfboards. Behind them I could already see the Atlantic Ocean. The day was coming to an end, but the temperature was ideally warm. The soft breeze caressed the skin of the arm I elbowed outside the window.

We arrived to a sort of shack build of canes and wood. You could see all the refrigerators leaning against —actually holding— the walls. The red plastic chairs and tables were labeled with beer different brands. The whole thing looked cheap but casual and fun.

Most of the clients already left, and there was this dying mood in the atmosphere. The breeze sometimes hit a bit stronger, the banana trees swayed, and the canes whispered somewhere behind the shack.

There was a handwritten note on the counter, Sebastião quickly read it and said:

Make yourself comfortable. If you want to swim, be careful. The tide is pulling.

Prainha is a special sort of landscape. Somehow it feels like the end of the world. The road is ending there, and the only presence are the rounded hills coming out the sea like big hiding monsters from the past. Among them you can find some secret beaches. In fact, it’s a surfer paradise.

I went to the counter to see if there were some limes and cachaça to mix me a Caipirinha. Sebastião had taken off his white shirt. He was just wearing his pants, which didn’t show any sort of bulge. He was smooth, had a big and broad chest and just a little bunch of black curly connecting his nipples.

Evening swim

I knew you’d want a Caipirinha. It’s underway.

Sebastião was also proficient in mixing drinks. In one minute he did the job that would take me 5. Like when he pissed.

Take your clothes off and go to the sand, I’ll be there with you in a second.

Sebastião gay story

Sebastião gay story

I didn’t bring my Speedos because initially the plan was a different one. So I sat down in the sand wearing my white Calvins.

A dark hand came from my right and handed me a Caipirinha. He sat beside me, we hit our glasses in a toast and he gave me a big smile.

Raul isn’t here either.

It’s not dark yet. Use your time and have a quick swim!

Foamy waves

Just a couple sips from the wonderful Caipirinha. Then I stood up, removed my Calvins and started running naked against the crashing of the white foamy waves.

I dived inside a big wave coming in my direction and as I got out I heard a screaming man. Back at the beach, Sebastião was waving in emergency. What was happening?

His dark body and the white linen pants gave a strong contrast to the sand. The sun was hiding behind one of those rounded hills and the light became greyish.

You are naked! Naked! You can’t swim naked like that!

I got out the water and felt a much colder breeze. Whatever was happening wasn’t clear to me.

It is disrespectful! You didn’t ask Yemanjã for permission to swim, and you are naked!

He was really upset, and I tried to compensate it by hiding my sexual parts with my hands. His voice sounded menacing and terribly powerful. He didn’t wait for any answer from me, turned towards the shack while I started running to follow him.

Sebastião entered the shack and immediately came out carrying a towel for me. He didn’t want to see me naked, so he turned his face to a side.

I didn’t know how to apologise and chose to keep silent. After a while, when we ended the Caipirinhas, he sort of confessed:

This will be a good night. Yemanjã is present.

The shack

There sure had to be a connection between the Afro-Brazilian goddess and hypnosis. What I felt was the blending of wish and fear about this spiritual connection.

While the waves were growing louder and louder, we moved closer to the shack, and finally went inside. Basically it was a huge kitchen, with all sorts of instruments, beer boxes all around.

Sebastião had put on a white t-shirt, and he gave a light blue one. His beautiful linen pants started to look wrinkled, and I guess he got aware of it. He opened a small door I hadn’t noticed before and came out with a yellow towel around his waist. He sat down beside me, on one of those red plastic seats.

During that day he avoided bringing up the issue of Stanislaw. I couldn’t understand why it disturbed him that much. Somehow though, he gave in. It felt weird to be alone with him in that beach-shack.

So you think you know that guy you saw under hypnosis?

I needed to take a deep breath.

I wouldn’t be here now.

Some people “come back” with traumas. They see how they kill people in a past life. Sometimes they also recognise the ones they killed as relevant persons in their present lives.

So you can meet someone from a past life in the present reincarnation?

There seemed to be a little hope that I could meet Stanislaw again.

Of course. They are the ones from whom you need to learn the most.

That subject was becoming fascinating. I moved my chair closer to Sebastião.

How can you meet them?

You can’t look for them. If they have to, they will show up.

It was clear he wanted to keep some information for himself.

Mystery talk

Then he added something that scared me.

Maybe that Stanislaw guy is in your life but you can’t recognise him.

I couldn’t think of anyone. He went on:

That also means love is not always about a nice body…

He made a brief silence.

…or a big dick. He could also be an ugly man.

I don’t think I love Stanislaw because of his dick. There was something much much deeper. As you said, “karma”.

Before I could even go on with my thoughts, we heard some noise outside. The wind was swaying the banana trees, they felt like a presence. I got goose-bumps. It was getting dark inside the shack, but Sebastião didn’t think of using a light or a candle.

Love is not only physical pleasure. It’s much deeper. Didn’t you ever hear “love is blind”?

I wasn’t able to understand the ultimate message Sebastião was trying to get across.

We heard a crack outside. By then it was clear somebody was sneaking around.

A tall and dark silhouette came silently in and I froze.

Who was that dark silhouette coming in?

Stay tuned! The next chapter the dark silhouette is now available!

You can also explore many other erotic stories.

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