My Ten Models

Sent: Monday, October 22, 2007 1:08pm

MY TEN MODELS by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2007 written on November 14, 1993 translated by the author English text kindly revised by John

USUAL DISCLAIMER

"MY TEN MODELS" 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 11 - Back to the base, and Henry the photographer

When I was back home, I hung all my paintings in my atelier to choose those I would use for the planned exhibition. There were many, and I liked all of them. As I had decided to title the exhibition "Gods, demigods, heroes and mortals" I chose them so that I could illustrate that theme and also thought about the title to give to each painting. Then I invited Thomas to see them. He too appreciated them very much.

He exclaimed, pleased, "That journey really did you good!"

"Yes, and not only about my painting style. It allowed me also to get to know myself better, to understand who I am. It has been a precious and unforgettable journey."

"The landscapes are really beautiful too. In my opinion you should hold two exhibitions at the same time, in two different galleries - one with your nudes and the other with your landscapes. It will be this year's happening, believe me. For the nudes, I like the title you thought of, and I think you can call the one with the landscapes 'Mediterranean dreams'."

"Yes, but to put on two exhibitions at the same time I need to find another gallery available on the same days..."

"Yes, I will find one But first it will be necessary to have photos taken of all of your paintings. Do you have a good photographer? A professional one?"

"No.. up to now I always shot pictures by myself."

"Well, I know a good photographer, he's young but really skilled. The only problem is that at present he is doing his army service..."

"Is he so young?"

"Yes, but he is really a wizard of art photography. Moreover he is not yet expensive. I'll try to see if I can find him and if he has some spare time."

"Alright, thank you Thomas."

"You are welcome. Your paintings are really beautiful. Keep the prices high..."

I called my usual frame-maker and with him I chose the most suitable frames for each painting. A few days later, Thomas called me.

"I've found the boy I was telling you about. His name is Henry Haidou, He'll call you in a couple of days."

"Haidou? What a family name is that?"

"Ah, he is a really interesting boy. He is a half-bred Latin, the type you like. It seems he has Greek, Italian, Portuguese and French blood in his veins, with a hint of Scottish..."

Henry called. He had a beautiful voice, warm, sensual, that gave me shudders of emotion. He was speaking perfect, almost copybook English, with a beautiful intonation. He told me he had some time off duty the next day, and that he would come to my place. Well, he came with the cases of his photographic equipment. He was wearing his uniform and I thought he was incredibly good-looking! But above all so very likeable.

He looked at all my paintings for a long time, "Wonderful! It will be a sheer pleasure to photograph them." he commented.

We prepared the easel where we would put the paintings one after the other, then the lamps and he carefully measured the lighting. He was working with competence and seriousness. I liked him.

At one point I asked him, "May I call you Henry?"

"Yes, sure."

"And you call me Shaun, please."

"Yes..."

"Listen, I would like you... if you could sit for me. I would like to include some portraits of you in this set ..."

He looked at me astounded, "I? With those? I'll cut a bad figure for sure."

"Oh no, it is just the opposite. I think I would add you amongst the gods!"

He laughed lightly, with a shy expression.

"I haven't yet seen you naked, but if your body matches your face, I have no doubts you deserve a place amongst the gods." I said.

"I never sat... not even for a photograph..." he said with modesty.

"Please! I would really like to. If we started soon, I would be in time to insert your portraits in the exhibition..."

"Well... if you really insist..." he said.

So I asked him to undress and looked at him in fascination - he was really splendid. Henry, noticing my glance, blushed slightly, delightfully. I saw he was somewhat uneasy.

"Does it bother you being naked in front of me?"

"No, in the barracks we always shower all together, all naked... but nobody ever looked at me... in that way." He answered, lightly embarrassed.

"In that way... how?" I asked.

"Well... with so much interest."

"I am a painter..." I said in a casual tone.

"Well... it's not just a painter's look, yours. I... I've read in it something more."

"Something more? What more?"

"I don't know. Something more. Admiration, possibly..."

"But does my way of looking at you annoy you?"

"No, on the contrary it gives me pleasure. It's always good feeling admired. But it is also a bit embarrassing."

I wanted to touch him, to make love with him. Happily I was wearing my clothes so he couldn't see the erection he had provoked in me.

"I will make you a portrait standing, near a horse, on a sea-shore... Or, even better, near a unicorn.."

"How will you do the horse?"

"It isn't a problem. The only important thing is that you have the right pose." I said going on to draw sketches on my pad. He really had a splendid body.

Later, while he was putting on his uniform, hiding that eighth wonder that was his body from my eyes, I got the feeling as if the sun had been suddenly covered by clouds. I desired that boy! His body was ripe and full of life, sensual, virile.

When he was clothed again, I asked him the decisive question, "Do you have a girlfriend?"

He looked at me with surprise, then answered, "No... Why do you ask?"

"Nothing... just so..." I answered hesitantly.

He didn't comment. "Is it alright if I come again tomorrow at noon?"

"Yes, sure, I'll wait for you. Will you do the shots and also the sitting?"

"Yes, of course..." he answered

Henry invaded all my thoughts. He was wonderful. I wanted him so much that I was feeling totally blocked!

He came again. I wanted to ask him if he was gay, I would have proposed him to make love with me, but was not able, so we just chatted of this and that... I liked talking with him. I liked looking at him. I liked listening to his voice. I liked just being near him.

I was just thinking that when he said, "I like being here, talking with you."

I looked at him surprised, but he was checking the framing for a photograph.

"I too..." I just managed to say, moved.

"I don't have many friends. Real friends, I mean. And only with them am I able to talk as happily as with you. And yet, we two still barely know each other. It's odd, isn't it?" he said, still without looking at me.

"I... I would like to become friends." I hesitantly answered.

"Yes, I would too." He said quietly. "We have almost ten years of age difference, and yet... I feel as if we are the same age. You have a fresh, young way of thinking. I like it."

I didn't know what to say. I too like you, I wanted to answer but, I don't know why, I was absolutely tongue-tied.

"Right," Henry said looking at his watch, "if you want me to sit for you, I have to stop shooting." And without waiting for an answer, he undressed.

I looked at him, moved, and took my pad trying to hide my feelings. He assumed his pose and I started to draw.

"Do you believe in horoscopes?" he asked.

"I don't know. I never thought about it." I answered.

"I believe them just for half. A friend of mine, who does them professionally, did one for me. She correctly told several things about my past that she couldn't have known. I was amazed. Yes, I was really amazed. And she said I will have a long and happy relationship with... with a person born under the sign of the Taurus."

"Of the Taurus?" I asked, but didn't have the courage to tell him that it was my sign.

"Do you believe in love?" He then asked me.

"Yes... even though it is difficult to find the true one."

"Yes? The problem can possibly be that everybody would like receiving love but few are ready to give it. To love means to give oneself up to the other, remaining totally defenceless, unarmed, without a mask... And it can be dangerous, if the other person doesn't do the same."

"That's true."

"Have you ever been in love?"

"Really in love? No, I don't think so. I have been infatuated, attracted.. Maybe I also had some crushes... But I never gave nor received true love. I don't even know if I would be able to recognize it..."

"Sure, the first time it can be difficult. One can possibly be afraid of deceiving oneself."

"That's it."

"But if one is too afraid, he can possibly run the risk of losing the opportunity of his life, can't he?"

"That's true..."

"In your opinion, does physical attraction or spiritual love come first?" He asked.

"That depends. One of them can come first but then be completed by the other, I think."

"Yes, I think so too. But when both of them are there, it's great, isn't it?"

"Sure, it must be perfect."

The day after we talked about friendship, then about eroticism... We then talked also about god and religion. I would have told him about my desire for him, but was not even able to hint to it, not even when the conversation topic could have made it easier... I was feeling totally in a daze, more and more attracted to him and more and more unable to make him understand it.

He finished shooting all the photographs but continued to come to sit for the painting. After the one with the unicorn, I started a new one. He seemed happy to sit again. And during the sessions we went on talking and talking... And the more we talked, the more I got to know him, the more I liked him and not only physically. And each time he undressed in front of me to sit, I was aroused.

"Your paintings, the nudes I mean, don't represent just beautiful bodies, but also the models' soul. Looking at them I can understand who that man or boy is, who you have portrayed. How can you get to represent the soul like that?"

I smiled. "I don't know. Perhaps I try to get to know the one I'm painting and not just observe him..."

"Yes, that must be so. That's why your paintings are so beautiful."

"Do you like them?"

"Of course, and very much. If I were rich, I would buy all of them."

I smiled again, "And what would you do with them?"

"I would admire them, of course."

"Do you like the one I did of you with the unicorn?"

"Yes, very much. Even though you made me more beautiful than I really am..."

"It is the way I see you."

"Thank you. It's kind of you to say that."

"One of my models once said that beauty is in the eyes of the one who looks."

"I never thought that. But it has to be true. To be able to see so much beauty and to represent it so skilfully, you must have eyes and soul filled with beauty."

I completed the second painting and wanted to start a third one at once - I didn't want to deny myself Henry's presence. He again agreed and I felt grateful. I had the frames for the first two made just in time to add them for the varnishing-day of my exhibition "Gods, demigods, heroes and mortals".

Henry could not come to the varnishing-day because he had training but he came to see the exhibition two days later.

"In the newspapers there have been only positive notices, did you see? Both your exhibitions are a real success, but especially this one." Henry told me, pleased, when he visited the gallery where my nudes were exhibited.

"Yes, the critics have been generous with me. And I think it is also Thomas's merit."

"Your merit, I would say!" he corrected me with a smile, then asked me, "Have you sold any yet?"

"Yes, six paintings, including one of yours."

"Good. I hope you can sell all of them."

"Well, all... that would be difficult. If I sell just half of them I shall consider myself lucky."

"How is the other exhibition going?"

"Nicely also, thank you. I've already sold five landscapes."

"Very good. Listen, tonight I can go back to the barracks quite late. May I invite you out for supper?"

"Yes, thank you, provided you allow me to offer... Did you see the catalogue with your pictures? It is really beautiful. Here, I have a copy for you."

"Thank you. You put the unicorn on the cover!"

"Yes, I wanted to have you on the cover."

We went out to dine. I was not able to move my eyes from him, I was desiring him more and more.

"When the exhibition is over, would you come to sit for me again?" I asked him.

"Yes, willingly." He answered with such a sweet and luminous smile that made me totally melt.

I would have kissed him there, in the restaurant, in front of everybody. And yet I was not able to tell him, to make him understand how much he attracted me.

The next day I got a surprise. I saw Auguste and Jules enter the gallery. I had sent them two copies of the catalogue. I welcomed them with real pleasure. We chatted in French while they were visiting the exhibition.

When they were in front of the two paintings of Henry, the only two of him they had seen among the pictures in the catalogue, Jules asked me, "Is he your lover? Your most recent conquest?"

"Unhappily not. He sat for me, but nothing erotic happened between us."

"How come? He's such a beauty!" Auguste exclaimed.

"I couldn't gather the courage to make him a proposal. Perhaps he's not even gay. He is the photographer of the catalogue, now doing his army service..."

"Oh, for goodness' sake! You have to try! One like that... at worst he can just say no."

"We became friends and I would regret losing our friendship..."

"Let us meet him, "Jules proposed, "and we will wean the baby."

"Oh no, please..." I said, serious and worried.

"Hey, we'll not eat him, will we?" Auguste said.

"Later he can possibly come. But I beg you to tell him nothing..." I insisted.

"Alright, as you want. But you like him, don't you?"

"To die for. And I think I'm falling for him totally." I confessed.

"Aha! Then it's more serious than I thought..." Jules commented.

When Henry came, I introduced him to Jules and Auguste with some apprehension. But both my French friends behaved themselves.

At one point Jules said, "It is a pleasure to get to know another of our Shaun's models personally. It would be great if we were all here in flesh and blood, don't you agree?"

"Yes" Henry answered with a smile.

"Shaun is really an exceptional painter, isn't he?" Auguste said.

"He's an exceptional person, not just as a painter, I mean. It's really a great pleasure talking with him..." Henry said with some enthusiasm.

Auguste looked at me with an expressive glance, then said to Henry, "I totally agree. It's a stroke of luck your having met him."

"Yes, that's true." Henry said.

"And you have the chance to live in London too, so you can meet him any time.." Jules said.

"That's so..." Henry quietly nodded,

Auguste and Jules bought a painting each. Then offered us supper. I was somewhat hesitant, fearing that the two friends wouldn't weigh their words with Henry, But he seemed to appreciate the invitation, so we went. All during the meal, anyway, my two French friends again behaved themselves. We talked about many subjects, in an easy, friendly atmosphere.

While Henry went to the toilet, Jules told me, "He is delightful, that boy. And in my opinion he too is in love with you. He looks at you in a way... He is hanging on your every word."

"No. It's just friendship. He could possibly have admiration for me, but only as a painter."

"No no," Auguste said, "I totally agree with Jules. Why don't you bring yourself to tell him what you feel for him?"

"No, I cannot. Moreover, he never exposed himself, he never made me understand he is feeling for me anything more than friendship."

"Come on Shaun, I really don't recognize you!" August said with a soft laugh.

"But the more I feel in love with him and more I feel shy with him." I admitted.

"And perhaps he feels the same." Jules suggested.

"I can't help it..." I said.

"We could say a good word for you..." Auguste suggested.

"No, please!" I said, alarmed.

Henry came back and we resumed chatting of this and that. Then Jules and August called a taxi to go back to their hotel.

"You stopped at the same hotel?" Henry asked.

"Yes, of course. We booked a room together. We're intimate friends, Jules and I." Auguste said.

I threw him a harsh look but he had an innocent, angelic expression painted on his face

Jules said, "Can we meet tomorrow as well? We are staying here in London for three days..."

"Yes, sure. If you came to the gallery, I will be there."

"Alright. And you, Henry, will you be in the party again?"

"Not tomorrow, I am not off duty. But the day after tomorrow, if you are still here..."

"With pleasure. So, see you soon, dear friends." The two French boys said and went away.

I saw Henry to the barracks.

Along the way he said, "Jules and Auguste are really likeable. Especially Auguste. They make a nice couple."

I looked at him amazed, then said, "They are friends. Auguste lives in Nice and Jules in Paris."

"Oh, I thought they were together. They seem really close."

"Both are daddy's boys, but yes, they do resemble each other a little."

"Yes, a little. But Auguste seems more simple and spontaneous."

"I agree."

"And you like Auguste better too, don't you?"

"When I first met him, I thought he was a street boy... I wouldn't have made the same mistake with Jules."

"A street boy? Do you mean a thug or... or a hustler?"

"No, not a thug. His eyes are too sincere and honest."

"So, then, a hustler. What made you think so?"

"His somewhat provocative and cheeky glances. "

"Did you ever pay a hustler?"

I looked at him in amazement, without answering.

"Up to now I didn't yet. But at times I thought I would like give it a try..." Henry said in a casual tone.

Was it a message? He wanted to tell me he was gay? Or was it just a curiosity without implications?

I then said, "Some of my models were hustlers."

"Ah. What types were they?"

"Like all the others. Possibly just a little more uninhibited sitting naked, that's all."

"That's understandable. At first I was somewhat inhibited being completely naked in front of you, even though I tried not to show it. But now it doesn't have any effect, I don't feel ashamed any more."

I felt I should say something to him ... but what? A dozen different sentences came in my mind, but none of them surfaced to my lips.

The following day I met Jules and Auguste again. Both insisted that in their opinion Henry would have been game, if I just tried with him, but I was not convinced. In the afternoon they went for a tour in London, and in evening we met again for supper and spent all evening together.

Then again, the day after, Henry was also with us. While I was talking with a buyer I saw, from the corner of my eye, that my three friends were chatting and laughing together. I hoped that Jules and Auguste said nothing compromising to Henry. They had promised not to, but...

When I reached them, everything seemed normal. That evening we also went to have supper together, then to a pub. Auguste and Jules said goodbye to go to their hotel - they would leave for France the following morning.

Jules said me, "Oh, I was almost forgetting, Jacques sends you his good greetings. He asked me to tell you he doesn't forget the happy hours he spent with you..."

I felt a little embarrassed but answered, "Tell him thank you for me. And also, I'll send him a catalogue, I didn't think of that before."

"He would be really glad, and proud."

We said farewell and they left. I saw again Henry to his barracks.

Henry said, "You were right, Jules and Auguste aren't a couple. Even though at time they make love together..."

"Did they tell you?" I asked, somewhat troubled.

"Yes."

"And... what more did they tell you?" I asked, now alarmed.

"About what? About them?"

"Yes..." I said, hesitant.

"Very little."

"And about me?"

"That they admire you a lot."

"Nothing else?"

"No, why?" he asked me amazed, possibly more for my tone than for the question itself.

"Nothing, just so, out of curiosity. What effect does knowing they are gay have on you?"

"What effect? None, why? Do you have something against gay people?"

"No, no, not at all. Several of my models were gay and they were all delightful boys. Moreover, Jules and August are two good friends..." I hastily said.

"Yes that's right. Gay isn't a synonym for effeminate or paedophile, of course."

"Quite right." I assented vigorously.

I was telling myself that it was the moment to reveal myself, to tell him about me, to tell him... But we were already in front of his barracks and he said goodbye to me with his usual strong handshake.

For three days we didn't meet. I submitted myself to a kind of self brain-washing - I had to take the risk, I had to find the courage to tell him, to take the first step...

I thought I was finally decided, to have been able to convince myself. But when we met again, when he next came to the gallery in his perfectly pressed uniform and came towards me with his smile and greeted me, I was not able to say anything but trivialities. I was mentally calling myself an idiot, a coward, but was absolutely not able to take that first step.

Both the exhibitions ended. I had sold in both something like four paintings out of five, and it had been a real success, both on a cultural and on a financial level. In an album I had gathered all the press clippings about my two exhibitions, and all of them were positive. I celebrated with Thomas, Henry and the owners of the two galleries, as well as with a few more friends.

Henry asked me if I wanted him to resume coming to my atelier to sit for more paintings. Of course I accepted his offer at once.

He came again and having him naked in front of me, was a real mixed blessing. On the small piece of furniture where the telephone was I had put the wooden box that François gave me, with the rose inside and his letter. I had not forgotten him, rather I often recalled that sweet boy and his love. And at times I was thinking that a similar system could be good to propose to Henry.

So, one day I went out to look for a symbolic gift for my sweet soldier. I went first to Harrod's, as there you can find everything, but I toured it far and wide without finding anything suitable - everything was either banal or too explicit, or too cloying, or too aesthetic... I left, somewhat disappointed. What could I give Henry to make him understand what I was feeling for him? I went then to the Gay's the World, but there I found nothing satisfying. I then walked along Portobello Road, but it was a waste of effort. I went back to my atelier just in time for the date with Henry.

We talked, I painted him, he left.

That same night I decided to go out. I didn't really know where to go. I went to Piccadilly Circus. The Eros statue was under restoration, the whole fountain was hidden behind scaffolding and several advertising boards. There were people sitting on the steps or leaning against the railings, mainly young people, and several punks. A collection of varied mankind.

I sat on the steps. A group of boys and girls nearby had a portable stereo and were listening to the Europe's music. I recognized the song, it was "Love Chaser". Right... I was a love chaser... but so awkward!

A boy stopped in front of me. "Do you have a fag?"

"Sorry, no, I don't smoke." I answered, absentmindedly looking at him.

"Do you know the time?" He then asked again.

"Seventeen past ten." I answered.

"Are you waiting for somebody?"

"What? No..."

The boy sat on the steps near me. "You are alone too?" he asked.

"Yes, alone." I automatically answered.

"We all are alone and lonely, in this jungle of roads. But, if we want, we could enjoy our own company, you and I."

I looked at him more carefully. He was smiling to me in an alluring way, half way between the shy and the cheeky.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty." He answered.

He had an agreeable expression, and was dressed rather nicely.

"Do you have time?" I asked him, thinking he could possibly be a hustler.

"Yes, rather..."

"I'm a painter. Would you come to my atelier and sit for me?" I proposed him.

He smiled slyly, "If I sit for you, will you give me fifty pounds?"

"Yes, sure. Will you come?"

"Let's go."

He followed me. We rode the underground. We went up to my atelier. When he entered he looked around and gazed stupefied at my nudes on the walls.

"But you really are a painter!"

"Sure, I told you."

"I thought... that it was just a pretext to fuck with me."

"The one doesn't exclude the other."

"Would you like to fuck first or to paint first?" he asked quietly, going on looking at my paintings.

"What about you?"

"Fuck. So afterwards I can sit more relaxed."

"Let's undress."

"Did you fuck all of them?" he asked pointing at the paintings while he was starting to take off his padded jacket.

"No, not all of them, unhappily." I answered starting to undress in my turn.

His body was not really beautiful, but it was nice enough.

"Which do you like better, to fuck or being fucked?" the boy asked.

"What's your name?" I asked.

He seemed surprised, but answered, "Call me John, it's alright."

I noticed that neither of us was still aroused.

"But... do you really want to fuck?" the boy asked, looking in my eyes.

"Yes..."

"Do you want a blow-job, for a starter?"

"Alright." I answered sitting on the sofa.

He knelt between my legs and started to work it. He was skilled, he gave me a hard-on immediately.

"It's starting to get better, isn't it?" he asked, satisfied.

I nodded.

He again asked me, "Do you want to fuck me, or to be fucked?"

I didn't know. It was absolutely all the same. "I want to come... it doesn't matter how." I answered in a flat tone.

He looked at me. "You're weird. Customers always know very well what they want from me... What's the matter?"

"Nothing..."

The boy came to sit at my side and caressed my chest, my belly, then my member that was already starting to soften.

"Would you prefer to talk, then?" he asked with a gentle expression. "At times we just need to talk but we have nobody ready to listen to us... If you like, I'm able to listen..." he said, going on to lightly caress me.

I embraced him and he leaned his back against my side, going on to lightly caress me. I too caressed him and felt in him an odd tenderness. Now we were both a little aroused.

"My name's not John. I'm Andrew. And I'm just eighteen..." he said in a low voice.

"Okay, Andrew. I'm Shaun. And I'm in love with a boy just a little older than you, but I'm not able to tell him..." I said, and related to him all that was happening to me.

CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 12

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