Private lessons
«What time is it?!»
Ling jumped up, wiping his eyes in surprise. He thought he'd overslept his special lesson, but the clock was only three in the afternoon. He was relieved to realize that he had time to take a shower.
After washing, he gathered his damp hair into a bundle. After changing his clothes and loading his work into the car, he hit the road.
For the oil paintings, he used a drying gas pedal, which allowed his last two pieces to be nearly finished.
Praising himself for his cleverness, he grabbed his canvases and walked into the deserted academy.
By four o'clock all the students had already left the place, so no one would be able to see Ling's paintings.
Once seated in the auditorium, he continued to look at his work. Two of his teachers quietly came up behind him and studied the subject closely. Ling flinched when the Teacher spoke.
«Cal, is your ass really that beautiful?»
«Hmm,» the elf smiled.
«I like that scene in the clouds, too, what do you think it's like to do it in weightlessness?»
«You'll find out if you want to,» Cal was succinct.
As the two talked, Ling felt like a happy wasteland. His work clearly appealed to the Teacher, yet he didn't even say hello to his student.
«They're so ethereal,» Ling thought for the umpteenth time, «real creative people...»
«Get up,» the Teacher tapped him on the shoulder.
Ling gave way and the Teacher sat down.
«You want to see me paint my pictures, don't you?» The teacher asked with a sly smile.
«Ahem,» the Elf coughed in surprise.
«Sure, but... I won't distract you?» Ling asked reverently.
«Oh, it's nothing,» waved the Teacher, «turn off the general light and fetch the lamp.»
Ling obediently complied. The Teacher asked Ling to darken the windows. The blinds were blacked out for this purpose.
When, after all the preparations, the Teacher asked Ling to lock the doors, he felt strange and uncomfortable.
«Good,» he clapped his hands, "sit here and enjoy.
«Ahem,» Cal made a disgruntled sound again.
«What's the matter with you? Why don't you light some incense,» the Teacher scolded him.
Ling fidgeted nervously in his chair as he arranged the incense sticks. The light from the single lamp was very soft and downright intimate.
The elf moved slowly between the tables and occasionally cast an interested glance at Ling. Finally, everything was ready.
Why did it seem to the young man that a play was being played out before him?
Gradually the scent of incense relaxed him and set him up for contemplation. The elf stepped smoothly toward the Teacher and ran the back of his palm between the man's shoulder blades.
With his other hand, he traced a path from his ear to his collarbone. Then he leaned over and nuzzled the Teacher's neck.
Ling inhaled sharply and almost fell off his chair. His head spun.
Cal, meanwhile, was caressing the delicate neck and the hollows above his collarbones without pulling away. The Teachercovered his eyes with lush lashes and breathed more deeply.
Cal unbuttoned his shirt with one hand, and with the other, he pulled the Teacher to the back of his neck and dug into his lips.
Ling was, you might say, sitting in the front row of this performance.
Not only did he hear the wet indecent noises, but when the man broke away from the Teacher, Ling noticed a thin thread of saliva hanging in the air for a moment.
Swallowing convulsively, he felt the back of his head and back go numb with the rush of feeling.
Ashamed. He was unbearably ashamed to be around these two as if he were hiding in someone else's bedroom.
When the next moment the pink bump on Teacher's chest completely disappeared into Cal's lips, Ling involuntarily raised his hand as if he were a child in junior high school and needed to go out to pee.
The Teacher anticipated a similar reaction and waved his head, nailing him to his chair with a stern and slightly languid look.
He took the brush in his hand and, despite the pleasure that spilled over his sensitive body, sketched a dragon.
When Cal bit him in a fit of passion, he slapped the man on the scruff with the words, "dog," and Cal looked up with eyes full of remorse.
These ministrations made Ling's palms sweat and made it hard to breathe.
The next moment Cal unzipped Teacher's shirt and began methodically licking the softly contoured muscles below his chest. This torture made the Teacher's body shudder and tense with Ling.
The Teacher continued to draw. The brush in his hands never wavered, even as the Elf began to undo his pants with just his teeth.
Ling deliberately covered his eyes with his hands. He was afraid to look any further, and then Teacher called out to him.
«Cal is very capable, he might come to you, too, if you continue to ignore our efforts...»
Lyn's eyes widened in shock and his cheeks burned with hellish shame. It was like torture. He could feel how tight his pants were getting, and so he clutched his hands into his knees, continuing to stare obediently at the shamelessness.
The elf took the entire Teacher's household into his mouth with deft movements, causing Ling's heart to skip a beat. He didn't know whether to look at Cal's efforts or the artist's work.
He willed himself to look at the Teacher and immediately regretted it. He bit his lip and closed his eyes, sweat trickling down his handsome body. He reached out a hand toward Ling and beckoned him with a finger. The young man on cotton legs approached the Teacher and the latter whispered:
«My paintings are always full of passion, now do you understand why?»
«Yes, now...» Ling choked on his saliva. A worried Cal looked out from behind the Teacher.
Ling coughed guiltily.
«Blot me,» whispered Teacher, «I'm ticklish.»
Ling used his free sleeve with a trembling hand to relieve the Teacher's discomfort. Accidentally touching his skin with his bare hand, he felt the heat of a thousand degrees.
He jerked his hand away to see if it would burn. Suddenly the Teacher threw his head back and wrapped both arms around him, pulling him in for a kiss. Ling almost lost the rest of his mind.
Those lips were so soft and delicate that he felt dizzy. The Teachergroaned, arched, and...cum right into Cal's mouth. Gently settling down on Ling standing behind him, Teacher held still for several minutes, experiencing waves of pleasure.
Ling could hardly tear his gaze away from Teacher's beautiful face and shifted his gaze to the canvas. There painted a fierce water dragon, the painting was more than half done. Ling froze in surprise.
Only twenty minutes had passed, he felt, but how then? How had he made it in time?
Shaking his head, he felt his mouth dry. Meanwhile, Cal rose from his knees and stared silently at the painting with Ling.
«He painted you today,» the elf said.
«Why me?» whispered Ling.
«There's a silver water dragon here. He'd never painted it before and said he hadn't met the right energy yet. Now he found it.»
Ling stared at the silver-blue monster in wonder and wondered how it resembled this dragon. And how did Cal know it was the water dragon? I mean, they're fictional creatures, so why categorize them so strictly...
«Wait, there'll be a second act soon,» Cal whispered to him.
The Teacher, meanwhile, had come to his senses. He looked at his companions with unfocused eyes and stood up. His pants fell to the floor and he climbed out of them.
«He's not wearing underwear?» Ling was dumbfounded again.
Meanwhile, Cal switched seats with the Teacher and sat in his chair. The Teacherleaned over and did the same manipulation to him, preparing his weapon for battle.
Ling ran back to his seat in a panic. Before his eyes, Cal turned into a living chair as the Teacher slowly sat on him, absorbing his implement into himself.
He felt strongly because he suddenly bent at the waist and clutched at it, letting out a strangled moan.
Cal's eyes blurred. He kissed the Teacher's neck softly. Ling forgot how to breathe, his hands trembled.
The Teacher began to draw again. His strokes were precise and confident. At times he rose from his chair and then, in some screwing motion, absorbed Cal again.
Ling was everywhere at the same time and felt the same way they did. He was in the Teacher's seat and vividly imagined a powerful organ with a round head throbbing inside him. From time to time it shuddered and sent a wave of goosebumps all over his body.
He also understood Cal's feelings. To be immersed in a tight, blistering body and not be able to move was horrible torture for any man.
Cal was breathing heavily, his face especially beautiful at this moment. Ling suddenly wanted to kiss him.
But, no one called out to him...
He almost whimpered from his seat, wishing he could somehow join the party. Suddenly Teacher said to him without turning his head:
«Little Cal is having a very hard time at this point, come over and kiss him if you have an ounce of compassion in you.»
The young man didn't make him ask himself twice, but as he approached the man, he was confused. Cal frowned. He didn't seem to be burning with the desire to kiss a stranger.
Ling froze at a loss and mentally scolded himself for being promiscuous and having inflated expectations. He couldn't force someone to kiss him.
The Teacher was finishing the picture, not paying any attention to his assistant. Then Cal turned to Ling and looked up at him with sparkling black eyes.
The picture made Ling's heart clench and almost explode.
He leaned down and kissed the beautiful elf. Modestly and quickly, but Cal intercepted the back of his head and pulled him close. Ling opened his eyes in surprise and saw that Cal was looking at him, too.
He blinked and lowered his lashes. He had to admit to himself that this cold beauty had touched his heart to the core... The kiss was maddening and made his whole body tremble.
«I sense a flow of energy, Cal,» the Teacher commanded, and the elf pressed his lips harder against the boy's. «I can feel it, Cal,» he added, «but you mustn't let him go.» Cal's heart leaped out of his chest.
He no longer knew where illusion ended and reality began. Never in his twenty-four years had he imagined such a situation.
The feeling so overwhelmed him that he was ready to forget his former life without a bit of regret.
Experiencing a touch of vague feelings for Cal, he gave himself wholeheartedly to his skillful lips and tongue. Suddenly he felt that he wanted to be caught by him, crushed and devoured without a trace.
Wants this mysterious man to possess him and make him beg for mercy. Cal captured his tongue and began gently sucking it in.
It seemed that all of Ling's sanity was pulled into this maelstrom as well.
Ling's knees buckled and he slumped to the floor. He hugged his arms around Cal's neck, sinking into the captivating silk of his snow-white hair.
Time flowed endlessly, the seconds seemed to become soft drops of wax that flowed leisurely down the candle and with them melted and flowed Ling.
Suddenly the Teacher moved to face his assistant and bent down and grazed the young man's neck, leaving crimson marks on it.
It was a torture no man could endure, and when the Teacher bit his earlobe, Ling lost consciousness.
He did not see how two hands, carefully supporting him, lowered him to the floor, and then Teacher began to move up and down until they both spurted their juices, splashing each other and even Ling lying on the floor.
The Teacher allowed himself to be wiped and even dressed. He leaned lovingly over the young man, brushing the wet strands from his forehead.
«He's so sweet and gentle, I don't sense any aggression or self-interest in this child...» he said gently tracing his delicate finger over Ling's lips and the bridge of his nose.
«He seems very special to me...» answered Cal dryly.
«I've noticed your attraction to each other. Do you want him for yourself?» The Teacher was unashamedly deciding his apprentice's fate.
«Yes,» said Cal with a confident nod.
«Oh, I hope you'll share that sweetness with me once in a while...» he said regretfully, «you can take him home and try to seduce him. It would be nice to put your mark on him, don't you think?»
«Yes,» the elf nodded, and he picked the boy up and carried him to the door like a feather.
The Teacher watched after him, quietly absorbed in his thoughts while putting the finishing touches on the picture.
The Teacher was already several hundred years old, but no one in his current surroundings had any idea. By tirelessly practicing longevity and healing techniques, he achieved a kind of immortality.
One day he was joined by a blond man with a cold aura and a wounded soul...
Left alone in the classroom, the Teacher felt empty inside, and for a moment he felt the bitter taste of loss.
Somehow it seemed that he was the past and Cal and that young man was the future.
Chasing those thoughts away from him, he decided to keep fighting for his happiness.