Carlos

Spring, Luján, Province of Buenos Aires, 1990

I remember... I was in my third year at the art school in a faraway, shameful town.
My painting teacher was a man in his forties, sophisticated, with a deep, strong voice, beautiful and velvety. He spoke to me about Kandinsky, I remember, about Turner's lights, about his exhibitions in several countries that he had visited.
I was 18 years old, my hair was long up to my shoulders, an air of freedom and hippism flooded me, painting, studying, there at that time, I was almost happy.

My work in the painting studio was not going very well, that's why Carlos, my teacher, made me stay very late in his workshop after class, so that I could practice even more.
For a month, we were alone, me painting, him teaching me, working, thinking.
One spring night, Carlos, my teacher, before his evaluation, makes me stay after class. I was a bit angry, because that night, I was scheduled to go home or else go out and go to the Poetics' house. Displeased, I agreed to stay, to paint and practice, on my easel.

We were alone, we could hear the laughter of some teachers and a few students, who were toasting and celebrating their exam results in the school garden.
The gardens of that school were flooded with trees, plants, flowers, jasmine, sculpture heads and plaster busts, adorning the courtyards with red tiles and their open galleries, where spring was appearing with its perfumes and its aromas, with its night breezes, caressing ideals of freedom, justice and peace.

Carlos, my teacher, approaches my easel, stands behind me.
Very close, I felt his voice echoing in the back of my neck, his powerful and intimate breath, warm, caressing my skin. He took my hand and led it slowly towards my picture, thus determining the shadows that I did not see, the lights that I had not previously glimpsed, before his indications.

Shyly, I looked at him, my face was close to his, his lips close to mine. In that instant I felt an unrestrained impulse, I looked at the painting again, my brush fell to the ground, nervously I bent down to pick it up, without realizing it, my body brushed against his, his pelvis brushed against my buttocks, I was paralyzed again, I rejoined him.

Carlos, my painting teacher, closes his lips, squeezes them, then his eyes, and I feel his fingers caressing my hair, my adolescent head, then the back of my neck very, very slowly. I was trembling with fear, with repressed pleasure, with embarrassment, with guilt.
I moved away from him, looked at him from afar, picked up my things and left.

The next day, Carlos, my teacher made me stay again, after class.
It was a Friday, the classmates were out of the classroom, I was in it, painting, listening to Argentine rock music. I was happy, painting, looking forward to it.
Two hours passed, and I was still working in silence, eager and disconcerted. I wanted him to look at my work, behind me, I in front of my painting, and he directing his hand towards me, I just wanted, needed to feel his masculinity again in my whole body, his deep voice caressing me, his reddish, perverse, intense lips, his whole mouth.

I look at him out of the corner of my eye, in that instant he looks at me, smiling with one of those grimaces, which say it all, a succulent grimace, flooded with desire and lust. In that instant, he comes closer. My heart starts beating stronger, I stay silent, I just ask him.
What do you think?

And he behind, in silence, begins again to caress my hair, my impoverished face, touches my back, my buttocks, and delicately walks away..., turns off one of the lights, locks the door, and comes back to my trembling body.
I sigh, he takes me by the waist again, his hands now surround my body, they surround him, my thin body, my little body lets itself go, he begins to kiss me, to caress me, subtly, delicately...

At that moment, I close my eyes, at the same moment in him, he begins to caress my buttocks, against his pelvis, and at that same moment, where he, begins to unbutton my pants, my shirt. He pulls down my pants, undresses me, kisses me, he unbuttons his pants, lets them fall, I can tell his penis is hard. I am scared, I am afflicted..., he takes my hand, he carries it until it touches the round, thick head of his virile member... I caress it, then the rest of his erect sex, implacable against my hand...
I feel his caresses on the back of my neck, his voice, his whispers. His almost obscene words, I'm shocked, thirsty for pleasure, I succumb to his spells.

He takes me by the neck, I bend down, he touches my mouth, my lips, my face with his member, he opens my mouth, I don't want and I want at the same time, I move away, he takes me, I get angry, he looks at me, he smiles, he kisses me, he forces me, I succumb, I open my mouth, I stick out my tongue, I take his sex, now he is inside my mouth. He would say, "It's a strawberry ice cream and I... I saw myself eating the strawberry ice cream

"It's a strawberry ice cream and I... I saw myself eating the strawberry ice cream and the meat ice cream, inside my mouth, against my lips, between my hands...

He takes me by the neck, I bend down, he touches my mouth, my lips, my face with his member, he opens my mouth, I don't want and I want at the same time, I move away, he takes me, I get angry, he looks at me, he smiles, he kisses me, he forces me, I succumb, I open my mouth, I stick out my tongue, I take his sex, now he is inside my mouth. He said to me, " It's a strawberry ice cream and I... I saw myself eating strawberry ice cream and meat ice cream, inside my mouth, against my lips, between my hands...

He calls me "My little boy", and he covers me with his intense, deep kisses, he turns me over, he licks me, he kisses me again, he talks to me, with his deep, velvety voice, I succumb... he puts me on all fours, he starts caressing my buttocks, very slowly, I feel his fingers touching my anus, he caresses me, he moistens me, I feel his penis leaning between my buttocks, he taps me in the middle of my anus, with the head of his penis.

He takes me by the waist again, opens my legs, takes me by the neck, turns my face, pulls out his tongue, kisses me, then slowly, I feel the inextinguishable pleasure of his tongue between my buttocks, I feel his tongue, his lips on my ass, in my anus, his black kiss is intense and deep as a distant night.

Then... little by little, I feel the head of your penis, enter slowly into me, I scream, whisper, breathe harder, I scream, pant, implore, it hurts, I feel the head of his penis in me, enter into me, slowly, very slowly, and he asking me if I like it, I do not answer. I make an abrupt movement with my hip, new my buttocks, with only one movement, backwards, I feel his pelvis touching my buttocks, and all his virile member is now inside me, in my body. Carlos, my teacher begins to penetrate me with sweetness, then with strength, with a lot of strength, he floods me with his body, he shakes, he groans, he screams, he tells me "you are my cute little boy, you feel like I am holding you, now you are mine".
He takes me by the hair, and I listen to him shout, he penetrates me, he enjoys my little body, he moans, he shouts, he makes an abrupt movement with his pelvis, until he finishes, until I feel his hot semen between my buttocks, he smiles, he says some inaudible words to me.

The night passes inevitably, the summer breeze dances through the galleries and the patios, through the gardens, they dance with the enormous plants, the heads of the sculptures look at us, the time and the memory of the men dissipate, in the warm air.

Now their lips are against mine, telling me forever, my adolescent love you belong to me.