MONEY, BEAUTY OR LOVE? by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2006 written on February 19, 1995 translated by the author English text kindly revised by Gardner Rust
USUAL DISCLAIMER
"MONEY, BEAUTY OR LOVE?" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest.
CHAPTER 8 - Beyond the bet
When Richard and Patrick met, each one was sure he had lost the bet, but to the contrary they saw they were still in a draw. And in a way they were in a draw because Richard had found Charles and Patrick hoped to be able to secure Gene's love.
Patrick and Gene continued to see each other, now without duplicity. Gene at times went to Patrick's house and seemed to be at ease, even though he was not used to luxury. Gene didn't seem struck by Patrick's wealth at all, and this pleased the man. But as the weeks passed, Gene's attitude remained friendly rather than that of someone in love. Patrick, on the other hand, was feeling more and more deeply in love with Gene; he thought he had never known such a wonderful and exceptional person.
One day, Patrick, taking his courage in his hands, said to the boy, "Gene, I love you, I really love you."
"I... I too love you, Patrick, but..."
"But? If you too love me, where is the problem?"
"There is that... I'm not yet sure you really love me. That to you I'm more important than everything and anything."
"Gene, you are that important, I swear. How can I show it to you?"
"Show it to me? If you had to choose between losing all your riches and losing me, what would you choose?"
"I would rather make a living as a dishwasher than lose you."
"Those are just words, they aren't the reality. I don't really believe you would renounce all this for me."
"How can I persuade you?"
"Would you be willing to register in my name all your riches, just to show me that you love me? Are you ready to risk all that you have? No, I can't believe it."
Patrick became silent, and Gene, in a low voice, with a gentle but sad tone, said, "You see?"
Patrick looked at him, then said, "Alright, if this is the proof you ask for, I'm ready to register in your name all my belongings, right now, everything. I'll call my lawyer asking him to prepare all that is needed. I'll ask him to do a complete inventory of my riches, immovable and movable properties, then I will sign the document making everything yours," he said with determination.
The lawyer made the complete inventory, but when Patrick asked him to prepare the document transferring all his properties to Gene, he did all he could to dissuade him. But Patrick was inflexible and told the lawyer that if he didn't prepare the document, he would call a different lawyer. Therefore, in the end, he prepared the requested document and Patrick signed it, with the signatures of two witnesses, then gave Gene the document. The boy smiled and put it in the internal pocket of his jacket. They then went out.
Gene told him, "Good, to celebrate, now, would you please go and buy sweets and champagne? I will go back to your home to prepare myself to welcome you as you deserve."
"I can ask my servants to buy them..."
"No, please, I would appreciate it if you bought them. I will be back home with your driver and you will take a taxi, alright?"
"Yes, my love!" Patrick happily complied.
He went to buy the most beautiful cake he could find, the best champagne, and then, with a taxi, he went back home. He didn't have his key with him, so he rang the bell. The butler opened the door.
Patrick was about to enter, radiant, but the butler stopped him and, with a sorrowful expression, said, "I'm really sorry, sir, but mister Gene showed us the document; he is now the master... and he gave us the strict order not to let you enter here. I'm really sorry, sir."
"What joke is this? Come on, don't be silly."
"Don't insist, sir, please, or I must call the police, as mister Gene ordered."
"Stop it, come on!"
"Sir, unhappily this is not a joke. I must pray you to leave."
Patrick was astounded, "Call Gene..."
"The master said he doesn't want to be bothered, sir, I'm sorry."
"But..."
"Please, sir, leave now. Don't force me to close the door on your face. I'm deeply sorry, sir, believe me. But this is no longer your house."
Patrick looked at him in bewilderment, then turned around and left. He went to a public telephone and called the house.
"Ronny, call Gene to the phone. I have to talk with him."
"I regret, sir, but mister Gene ordered us not to pass on your calls; he doesn't intend to talk with you," the secretary answered.
"But... Ronny, is this not just a joke?"
"I'm grieved, sir, but it has not at all the air of being a joke. And mister Gene asked me to call the banks to block all your credit cards, sir. Unhappily I had to comply and do it."
Patrick hung up the phone. He still had some cash, so, after calling him and asking if they could meet, took a taxi and went to see Richard.
When he told his friend about what was happening to him, Richard burst into laughter. "You really have been so crazy? My poor friend, you asked for it! What can I say?"
"Please, try to call Gene. It has to be a joke, it's not possible I was wrong about Gene's feelings for me!"
"Alright, wait," Richard said. He called Patrick's house and talked with Gene. When he finished, he shook his head. "It seems he means it - he said that he would have done it with me also, if I had been so naive. I have to say... I'm sorry for you, but I admire him - I judged him wrongly. So, you now are on the street, eh? What can I say..."
"Can you lend me some money?"
"Lend? And how do you presume to pay me back, now that you have no money? If you want, I can give you a hundred dollars."
"I'm not asking you to give me alms. I though we were friends."
"Bah, you know, friendship with a poor devil... it doesn't appeal to me. As long as we were peers... but now..."
"I understand. Thank you," Patrick said and left, feeling furious.
He went to the restaurant where he worked as a dishwasher asking if they would hire him again, but the owner told him that he had already found a replacement and therefore he didn't need him any more. He also thought to go to see Fred, or Earl, or David, but felt ashamed. So he started to tour the city looking for a job. Days passed and he found nothing, partly because he was too well dressed. So he went to a second-hand dealer where he left his clothes in change for skimpy clothes and some money. He continued looking for a job, to no avail.
He ran out of money so, feeling desperate, he started to beg. He didn't even try to see his other friends; he would need to explain everything to them, and felt ashamed. He washed himself in the public rest rooms, and profiting from the fine weather he slept in the park; this way he could save some money to pay for shelter when the winter arrived.
He managed to eat sufficently and decently, but as time wore on, his condition worsened: his beard went unshaved, his only clothes became increasingly torn and dirty. But above all he was sad; he continued to wonder how he could have been so wrong. Gene seemed to him the most sweet, gentle, honest, good, upright person he ever met. And as hard as this was for him to believe, he was more sad about this than the fact that he had lost everything.
So, one day he entered a stationery shop, bought an envelope, a sheet of paper, and asked to borrow a ball point pen. He wrote a aggrieved letter to Gene, laying bare his soul - how what pained him even worse than begging was having been so mistaken in judging him, in trusting him, and how he yet still loved him. He bought a stamp and sent the letter without writing a return address on the envelop. And in fact there was none. Nor did he want to be found.
At times he thought he would have liked to -die - not to commit suicide - just simply to die; perhaps not to wake up after falling asleep forever. He also ceased to look for a job. He didn't care about anything more, he was sinking in a deeper and deeper kind of apathy.
Summer passed, and it was September when, while begging in front of the Central Station, he heard a car braking. He turned and recognized his own car and saw Gene getting out of it. He started to tremble from head to toe; he became aware he didn't hate him, but on the contrary, he still felt for him an absurd, incredibly strong love. Bursting into tears, he slipped into the station. He did not want Gene to seem him in his deplorable condition.
He went to sit in the corner of the second class waiting room. He put his elbows on his thighs, held his head between his hands and silently cried, filled with bitterness. He felt somebody touch his shoulder and thought it was a policeman asking what he was doing there, ready to chase him away. He raised his face and saw in front of him... Gene.
His heart began to beat violently; he started to tremble.
For a long moment, Gene looked at him, then said, "May I talk with you?"
"Eh? What do you want? What for?" Patrick asked with a broken voice.
"I would like to talk, but not here. Would you come with me?"
"Where?"
"There is the car outside here. I ordered the driver to go for a walk."
"Did you know I was here?"
"Yes. For two months, I've had private detectives looking for you. They finally found you and called me. Are you coming to the car?"
"But why? What more do you want from me? I've nothing more to give you now, have I?"
"You still have something I want from you, and if you really love me as you said in your letter, you will give it to me."
"What?" Patrick asked astonished.
"Come inside the car," Gene insisted.
Patrick followed him, but he was not able to stop trembling. Just being near Gene made him feel bad, he so desired him, he so desperately loved him. They entered into the car, and Gene darkened the windows.
"Patrick... how badly are you reduced..."
"How? Like all the tramps, right? Wasn't this what you wanted?"
"Yes, it was this, after all."
"What do you still want from me? You said I can still give you something?"
"Do you hate me?"
"I probably should, but am not able to, I cannot."
"Then... you still love me?"
"Yes," Patrick said in a grieved tone and though he felt like crying, he made an effort not to let the youth see it.
"Then... prove it."
"Prove it? And how? Do you want the money I received begging? It is not so much, but..."
"And you would give it to me?"
"Yes..."
"No, I don't want your money, this time."
"What, then?"
"I want you."
"Me?"
"Yes - I love you. Do you want to be my man?" Gene asked, putting a hand on Patrick's.
"Me? Are you making a fool of me?"
"I never was so serious, Patrick. Do you want to be my man?"
"You... you really love me?"
"Yes, I thought to put you to the test, and you got through it. I have always loved you, but was afraid that your love was but a whim. Then I received your letter, where you didn't curse me, you didn't complain, but you only told me how disappointed you were. I was looking for you before, but could not find you. After I received your letter, I charged four more detective agencies to look for you, gave them all your data and asked them to call me any time they saw you. And finally I found you - do you want to be my man?"
"Are you serious, Gene?"
"I love you, Patrick. And I'm sorry I did this to you. At first I thought to pay you with a little of your own money, enough for you to get by, but I didn't plan on letting you sink so low. I imagined you would have insisted, you would come again and again. I thought you would be in touch with your friends... Can you forgive me, Patrick?"
"You forgave me then, when I told you I took up with you only for a bet... How can I not forgive you now?"
"I didn't have your contract registered; it will be enough to tear it in pieces and everything will be again yours."
"I don't care, if you really want me with you."
"I too don't care at all for your wealth, if I can live with you."
"Gene... I love you..."
"I too love you, Patrick," Gene said, embracing him.
Patrick wriggled away, "No, I'm dirty, I stink..."
"You are the most beautiful and desirable man on earth. Let me kiss you..."
"No... let me wash, before..."
"Later. Now there is something more important," Gene said embracing him strongly and kissing him. It was the first time they kissed.
On his cell phone, Gene called the driver, who was waiting in a nearby bar. As he arrived, Gene gave the order: "Back home, and hurry up!"
The car started while they, sitting on back, were tightly embraced and Patrick was pouring tears. But this time the tears were of joy; inside his heart a voice was singing: then I wasn't wrong, I wasn't wrong!
Back home, Patrick wanted to wash himself, so Gene insisted on joining him. They undressed and entered the wide bath tub together. Gene took the bath gel, the shampoo, and washed Patrick's body carefully, caressing him with every stroke of his hand. Both were aroused, filled with desire, but didn't yet start making love. Gene shaved Patrick face, combed his hair while they still caressed, giving light kisses to each other, both quivering, but restraining themselves.
Then Gene dried him and himself and asked Patrick, "Will you take me to your bed?"
"To our bed?"
"Yes, of course."
Patrick took him in his arms, raising him and, while he kissed him, took him to the bedroom and laid him on the wide, circular bed.
"I never slept here, you know? I waited for you to take me here."
"And where did you sleep?"
"In one of the guests bedrooms."
"But you are the owner of the house."
"Now that I am your boy, we can be the owner together."
Patrick laid him on the bed and reclined beside him. They embraced tightly and kissed for breathless minutes, caressing each other with sweet desire.
Gene was pressing, brushing against him with increasing longing. Patrick returned the gesture with equal intensity. They licked each other, sucking, caressing the entire length of their bodies until, with growing passion, they pleasured each others' throbbing member.
Then Gene, with a voice filled with emotion, said, "Patrick, take me, please, make me yours."
"Yes, love, but then you must take me."
"Sure - I want to become one with you. To be yours and make you mine. I love you."
"Say it again."
"I love you, I love you, I love you!"
"I -do love you as well. I feel the happiest and richest man in the world: I have you!"
"Yes, I too. Take me, love," the youth begged, offering himself to him with a smile filled with joy.
"Yes..." Patrick whispered, leaning on him.
Gene guided Patrick inside him and received him with pleasure, and as Patrick was gently slipping inside him, their smile became bright. And Patrick, for the first time in his life, when he was totally grafted in his beloved, spontaneously and sweetly gushed out the words, "I'm yours!" In fact, even if it was he who, in that moment, was penetrating the youth, with that act he felt he belonged to him; by entering Gene, he became a part of him.
As Gene girded Patrick with his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist, Patrick moved inside him in a tender and virile coming and going. Their radiant faces approached and their mouths united, the tongues playing light and passionate while their bodies were moving at unison, vibrating full of ardor.
"Oh, Patrick... my man!" Gene murmured, moved.
"Yes, yours forever, my boy!" Patrick whispered and they started again to kiss.
Patrick begun to shudder with increasing force, seized by an intense excitation and pleasure, "Oh, Gene... I'm coming..."
"Yes, my love... fill me... come, love... come..." the youth murmured caressing him full of desire, gently tossing under him to increase his pleasure. Patrick emptied himself inside him, moaning at each quiver, at each gentle push.
Then, slowly, they loosened, caressing and kissing each other. Gene now laid on top of Patrick, who spread his legs and rested them on the shoulders of his young lover, offering himself to him, not yet sated.
Gene brushed his beautiful erect rod between his cheeks, "Do you want me, love?" he asked with sweet desire.
"Yes, I want you... take me..." Patrick murmured caressing his small, firm buttocks and pulling him into himself, pressing himself against his pubes greedily; he wanted to feel him inside himself with all his will.
Gene started to push and to sink inside him in a continuous movement, and the firm stake wedged itself in the firm flesh of his man, conquering him centimeter after centimeter. "Oh, how good it is, Gene. I feel almost like it is my first time and you my first lover. I love you, Gene."
"Patrick, you are so beautiful!"
Patrick raised his head so that he could suck the youth's nipples, and Gene shuddered, seized by waves of pleasure. As he arrived at the end of his descent, he started to move up and down, lightly rotating his hips, making him feel every thrust. Patrick matched his movements, caressing his back and continuing to suck one or the other of his nipples.
Launching himself in a frenzied ride, Gene took his beloved's face in his hands and with his tongue penetrating his lips, sank inside his mouth, as though he was taking him from both ends. The man happily moaned.
"Love, Patrick, my great, unique love..."
"You love me?"
"As I will never love anyone else."
"Do you like it?"
"To die for..." Gene panted sinking in him with his rock-hard member and his tongue that Patrick suckled with immense pleasure.
Then Patrick felt him stiffen, tremble in the intensity of the orgasm and saw the youth's face become radiant. He felt him unload inside him in a set of overwhelming, explosive spasms. Patrick pulled him to himself, kissing him deeply, until he felt that Gene had given him the last drop of his seed and that he was starting to relax, guivering gently.
"I adore you, Gene," the man murmured.
"I adore you, Patrick," the youth echoed.
THE END
In my home page I've put some more of my stories. If someone wants to read them, the URL is http://andrejkoymasky.com If you want to send me feed-back, or desire to help revising my English translations, so that I can put on-line more of my stories in English please e-mail at andrej@andrejkoymasky.com