Echo of the Past - volume 2
Table of contents

    YOU ARE READING

    Echo of the Past - volume 2

    Romance

    The long neck was like a magnet. When bare and exposed it was commanding and shouting. I was not allowed to move further without giving it enough attention and touch. I had to touch it delicately with my lips, to leave a moist trail. I had to repeat...

    #boyslove #haker #punk

    01. Nivan

    1K 27 9 
                                        
    
                                              
    Translator: Schiotka
    Editor: Bluwren
    _________________
    Nivan
    He was drawing patterns with his finger over pale skin.
    He started at the neck, which immediately undulated under the touch. It reacted involuntarily, taught that this way it would receive more pleasure.
    The long neck was like a magnet. When bare and exposed it was commanding and shouting. I was not allowed to move further without giving it enough attention and touch. I had to touch it delicately with my lips, to leave a moist trail. I had to repeat the actions until the whole surface was covered in goosebumps. Only then I could move down the twisting image.
    The next stop was the back. Smooth and narrow. With the shoulder blades sticking out. 
    He liked when they writhed under his touch. When they flexed and danced.
    The tattoo only highlighted the sensuousness of the narrow back. With every move the snakes on the skin gleamed with colour. Hypnotizing me. 
    They were coiling down to the wrist, stretching the tails to the forefinger.
    This is where Nivan finished his travels. He was stroking the skin on the back of the hands with his fingertips. Capable hands, delicate, always showing so much emotion.
    He liked when they were affectionate and tender, when they were touching his nose or the scar under his eye. When they were combing through the red hair and massaged the nape.
    They changed dramatically when angry. They could strike a face. They could hit. They could wave in helplessness or frustration. They could throw a tray full of glasses.
    They were sad when they wiped away tears. Large drops, always breaking a heart.
    They very often covered up a smile, only sometimes embarrassment.
    They waved with theatrical, ostentatious gestures that were telling stories.
    They were often reaching to take a joint, so they could smoke together, inhale the same smoke.
    They took his hands firmly when they were running over the rooftops.
    They were provocatively touching his own body.
    They were styling his own dark strands of hair with swift, sure moves, always with the same nice smelling paste.
    They held the microphone securely. With subtle, coiling moves they expressed feelings on the stage.
    They played forgotten melodies on the piano.
    They drew crooked pictures in apologies.
    They always stuck a finger into the pot, tasting what he cooked.
    In a tender gesture they combed his hair out on his shoulder.
    The snakes moved over the body and hissed.
    "You will manage."
    He heard them say.
    ______________
    Nivan woke up gasping for air.
    His chest was rising nervously, and his eyes filled with glittering droplets.
    He lifted himself up. He took his head in his hands trying to calm down. He felt sweat running down his back.
    The dreams were killing him. Slowly.
    Echo of the Past - volume 2Where stories live. Discover now