Sent: Mon, September 24, 2007 3:01 am
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 2 - Giovanni of Florence
I went with Giovanni up to my studio. I closed the wide glass door leading to the terrace and lit the lamps. Giovanni looked around. He saw in a corner on the floor the wide mattress covered just by a sheet that was my bed.
"I have to undress and lie down there?"
"No. This first time you sit on that stool. I will only do some preparatory sketches, some studies."
"Dressed or naked?"
"As you like. But naked is alright."
For the first time I saw a faint smile flash on his beautiful face. He slowly undressed while I sat on another stool and opened the sketch pad on my knees, taking a sepia pastel.
He had a mature and well-built body. I looked at it attentively from head to toe to catch its proportions and shape properly.
"Do you like what you see?" he quietly asked while exposing himself to my eyes in total nakedness, without the least embarrassment.
"Yes, you are well proportioned and virile." I quietly answered.
"I'm usually appreciated only because I'm virile..." he noted, then asked, "How do I have to sit on the stool?"
"As you like this first time. But you do have to try staying still for as long as you can. Do you think you can do that?"
Again that small flash of a smile. "Sure. I always succeed in doing everything I want." He said self-assuredly and sat down.
I started to do my sketches. My hand was moving fast on the paper catching his shape. Yes, he really was beautiful. His member was softly resting between his slightly spread thighs and I remember that I thought it was not so big, compared to his sound and muscled body. He didn't have the construction of a body-builder, but that of a healthy and manly body. His chest carried a fine and light down. A line of almost blond hairs went down from his navel, then opened and became thicker to surround his member resting on his firm testicles. Also his thighs were covered by a very light brown down, that became darker and thicker under his knees to disappear towards his ankles. His feet were beautiful, perfect as were his strong hands that were lightly resting on his thighs.
For the entire sitting time, he looked straight in my eyes. After I drew several sketches I put my pad down and stood up. Also Giovanni stood up.
"Are you stopping drawing, now?"
"Yes, that's enough for now."
"What shall we do, now?"
"Nothing. You can dress again, thank you."
"Dress again? Don't you feel like staying a little with me?" he asked, almost astounded.
"If you want to stay a little more to chat, I'm game." I answered without understanding.
"You really wanted just to draw?" he asked.
"Sure, what else?"
"Well... you were looking me in a way that gave me the idea that you wanted to take me on that bed..." he quietly insinuated.
"What? No, no. I was just looking at you with the same interest a painter looks at a model. Nothing more..."
"Well, I would have been game..."
"No... really."
"When men look at me in that way... they normally want something else from me. And I'm glad to give them what they want, especially if they are a handsome guy like you are."
"No, thank you, I was not aiming at that..." I said, slightly embarrassed and a little on the defensive.
Giovanni shrug his shoulders, made another of his fleeting smiles and started to dress again.
"Can I see what you drew?" he asked me when he had finished.
"Sure, look." I said handing him the drawing pad.
He thumbed through it. "Beautiful! You're really skilled. But do you make just drawings or also paintings?"
"The drawings are just preliminary, to study your body. The next time or the time after, if you want to come here again, I'll start an oil painting."
"Yes, I'll surely come. It is my first time I undress to be a model. Usually... the others want to touch and not just to look."
"But you... do you let them... touch you?"
"Sure, I like it. And not only touch, we usually fuck also. You never fucked one of your boy-models?"
"No, never. I like women."
"Your girl-models?"
"At times."
"Does it upset you I'm asking you such things?"
"No, no. But... may I ask you a question?"
"Yes..."
"You said you have a good job. So, why do you accept such..."
"With men? Because I like it, as I told you. And if at time I can also earn some money, it is good to round out my income. But if I really like a guy, I go with him for free."
"I see..." I said, rather amazed.
He was very likeable and we chatted for a while longer. We talked about many subjects. It was about eleven p.m. when he said good bye and left, after I paid him the thirty thousands liras and made a date for the following afternoon during a break in his work.
He came again two or three times and I started the oil painting. He was able to stay still for long enough time, so that I could work rather rapidly. During the sitting breaks he came to see at what point I was, loafing around all naked, without any problem. Almost always models put on their underwear during the breaks. Not Giovanni.
I had just started the oil painting when Giovanni changed his job. He had been hired as a porter in a luxury hotel where he got a better salary. So now, as he had to do one of the two day or night shifts, he had to change the sitting times. Changing his job, he had also to leave the room where he was sleeping with other waiters, therefore he asked me if he could come and sleep at my place until he found a not too expensive place.
"I don't have a another bed. I have just that mattress..." I answered, hesitantly.
"A friend of mine will lend me his camping airbed and sleeping bag. It will be just for a few days, please... In exchange I will sit for you for free..." Giovanni insisted.
Thus I accepted. To give him and myself more freedom, I gave him a copy of the keys. He came with his airbed, sleeping bag and a suitcase. Now he was spending a longer time at my place, therefore my painting was proceeding even more rapidly and I started a second painting.
In my studio there was no bathroom, just a toilet, therefore to wash we had to go on the terrace above the roofs where there was a low terracotta sink that he called "the small fountain". Giovanni was using it often, quite naked, washing his body with a sponge and making the water flow onto the terrace to the roof gutter. After he had washed and rinsed himself, he hosed down the terrace floor. It was at the end of the month and the weather was really warm.
At night we were sleeping, I on my mattress on the floor and he on his sleeping bag, wearing only our underpants and tank top. I was not annoyed by this cohabitation, it was rather pleasant, because, even though he had a rustic and somewhat rude behaviour, he was very likeable. I started the third painting. There were still a few days before my departure for my second stopping place in Rome. On my way home I bought a bottle of whisky - I was having a slight headache and thought that after drinking a glass of it I would fall asleep more easily.
Giovanni would be back around one a.m., as he had the first night shift. I sat on my mattress, the lights off. I didn't feel like standing up again to get a glass so I opened the bottle and drank several long draughts directly from it. The room was really hot. I noticed that the door to the terrace was closed. So I resigned myself to stand up and to open it wide. In the dark, I went back to my mattress where I drank two or three more draughts of whisky. I felt as hot as hell.
I undressed remaining as usual with only my underpants and tank top on. And again drank from the bottle. I'm not a heavy drinker but that night I don't know what seized me. My head was spinning. I was feeling as if I was suffocating from the heat. I then freed myself from my tank top and underpants and sipped some more whisky. I noticed that the bottle was half empty and in a glimpse of good sense, I closed it and put it on the floor, telling myself I had to stop drinking. And I almost crumbled down on my back onto the mattress.
My head was now feeling very light, but my body felt incredibly heavy. And I was in a slightly bad mood but at least the headache was gone. I fell asleep, woke up, fell asleep again. I was still half awake when I heard Giovanni putting his key in the lock and opening the door. The noise seemed me deafening.
When he came in, he didn't switch on the light, but the moon lit up his body. Even though I wasn't able to focus his image, I saw Giovanni pulling off his T-shirt revealing his beautiful naked chest. Then I saw him opening and pulling off his trousers which he folded and put on a stool. Then he saw me and seemed surprised. He came near me. He crouched down leaning his elbows on his knees and looked me up and down. I knew I was totally naked, but I didn't care at all. I looked at him and caught a glimpse, between his half opened thighs, of the swelling that was increasing in his underpants.
"You're beautiful, so naked..." he said quietly.
He spread out an arm and placed his hand on my chest, them made it move on my belly, until he reached my genitals where he stopped, warmly and agreeably cupping them.
"Yes, you're really beautiful... desirable." He insisted.
He turned me on my side with both his hands and made me roll on the mattress to have me lie on my belly. I felt his hand caressing my buttocks.
"You really are desirable..." he repeated, self-assuredly.
Then he noticed the half empty whisky bottle near my mattress. He lifted it and looked at it against the faint light coming from the terrace door and laughed aloud. His laughter echoed into my head with the rumble of a waterfall.
"You drained half of it! Good, good..." he said in a lascivious tone, then added, almost talking to himself, "Very good. So everything will be easier..."
I had my head turned on one side, toward him so I saw him stand up and pull his underpants off. He was towering over me like the statue of a Greek god. He stepped onto the mattress, astride my ankles, then knelt down, his knees at the side of mine, and soon I felt his hands starting to knead and stroke my buttocks.
I tried to evade those rough endearments, but I was drunk and helpless, while he was strong and determined. His powerful hands parted my buttocks, then I felt his hot breath on the furrow, then some saliva dripping straight on my hole and slipping down to my testicles. I felt the coldness of the saliva on my hot hole as a weird, agreeable contrast. All my sensations seemed to be magnified. I felt his thumbs forcing my hole, opening it out, and was not able to oppose him.
"No, Giovanni, I don't want..." I mumbled, my voice slurred and drowsy, and tried to escape him, but it was as if I was no more master of any of my muscles.
"Yes, you want it. You really want it. I'm able to read desire in a man's eyes!" he corrected me in a low, hot and self-confident tone.
I soon felt his hard and erect pole hitting on my hole like a battering ram trying to break down the gates of a besieged castle. He slipped a hand under my belly and forced me to raise my pelvis until I was in the right position and angle to be penetrated. I was amazed at how my body was docilely bending like that of a painter's wooden manikin. His shaft resumed resolutely pushing on my sphincter, until my muscles surrendered and he penetrated me to the bottom with just one long and vigorous push.
I moaned.
"Don't pretend you don't like it! You were just waiting for that, weren't you?" he said and relaxed on my body, settling it down.
I moaned and groaned more aloud. I was feeling it inside me, huge, hard, alive. But that invasion didn't make me feel pain, because all my muscles, including my sphincter, were totally relaxed. Moreover, I felt that in me were awakening incredible pleasure waves; waves of such an unexpected pleasure that made me totally astounded. Giovanni then moved and started to probe my channel with his hot erection, and savoured the sensations he was getting. I groaned again and squirmed under him.
"You like it," he said amused, "You like and want it. Tell me you want it, tell me you like being screwed."
I felt too humiliated to answer him. But he was right, I was enjoying it.
"Could we bet that before I let you go you will tell me you wanted it in your ass? That you like it?" he asked, tossing inside me. "I've wanted to do it with you for a while," he said starting to pound vigorously in me, "but I knew you would have refused and chased me away... So I asked you to host me... and now you're really hosting me, aren't you!" he concluded giggling for his witticism.
I was feeling his excitement increase and his movements become harder and more determined.
"Come on, friend, tell me you like it, now! Acknowledge it!"
I didn't answer. He then slowly slipped out of me only to sink inside again striking a deep blow with all his energy. I groaned. He again slowly slipped out leaving only his glans inside me.
"Tell me you like it!" and again he sank inside me with another wild stroke. "Come on, confess you like taking it in your ass!" he said slipping out and, at my silence, vigorously plunging into me again.
He went on in this way until I, seized by a terrible pleasure that seemed to drive me crazy, panted, "Yes, I like it!" and at each of the strokes of his pelvis with which he was thrusting it inside me, I repeated, "I like it... I like it..."
And finally, after I don't know how many strokes, I felt him unload inside me and almost at once my member that had brushed against the sheet at each of his thrusts, copiously erupted its seed. Then Giovanni laid on me, still firmly embedded into my ass.
"Good Jeez, what a wonderful fuck." He panted.
We fell asleep in that position. His weight on top of me, his erection still inside me, even his sweat gluing our bodies, all that together seemed me wonderful while I was slipping into sleep.
In the following morning I woke up early. I got up feeling a little benumbed and dazed and still totally naked. I went on the terrace and washed myself at the little fountain, enjoying the sunrays that were caressing my skin.
Suddenly it was as if my brain cleared and I remembered what had happened in the previous night. A sharp, clear, detailed memory. And I felt totally amazed, unable to decide if I had to feel more ashamed or more delighted. I clearly remembered how I had crazily enjoyed it. Therefore I understood I am gay and I always had been gay. This thought arose in me so simply, logically and naturally that I fully accepted it, with all its implications.
Back in the room, I saw him, naked, lying on his airbed. I then drew near him, laid down at his side and wrapped his body with my arms and legs, and awakened him kissing him.
When he opened his eyes, I said, "Take me again, Giovanni!"
Still drowsy, he gave me an odd smile. He parted from me, made me lie on my back in the middle of his double airbed. Without uttering a word, he spread my legs kneeling between them, then raised them making them rest on his shoulders. With his finger he took some saliva and lubricated my hole, just lingering for a while with the fingers. When he felt I was quivering, he smiled again, aimed with his already hard rod at my hole, seized my waist with his big and strong hands and sank inside me, giving me what I had asked him for. And he started to move inside me with energy and pleasure. His body was soon covered by tiny sweat droplets that shone in the sunrays flooding from the wide open terrace door. I then felt Giovanni to be beautiful as I never saw him, of a new and different beauty, manly as never before.
He was pumping inside my ass in a slow cadence and I felt... free and relaxed. I now knew, and accepted my desire for a man. And I had one now inside me. I felt grateful to him, because he had freed my true self that for years had been dulled inside me, that unconsciously I didn't want or was not able to recognize. He had given me back to my true self.
"You like it, hey, little pig!" he said me looking at my blissful expression and cunningly smiling me.
"Yes, I love it a lot..." I murmured feeling happy to be able to say it.
"I knew it. But you were acting so hard to get... You just wanted to be fucked, that's why you were waiting for me all naked, isn't that so? And also got drunk."
"No, it's really not like that... but... but now I do like it."
"So you're as much faggot as I am, aren't you?"
"Yes, it seems so, and I like you." I said, filled with a growing joy.
"I like you too. You have a really tight hole... and you're a likeable fellow." Giovanni said going on plunging inside me with a will.
"You are the first to fuck me."
"But you wanted me to fuck you, didn't you?"
"This time, yes."
"Good." He said softly, making me lurch with each of his lunges, "good..." he repeated with a hoarse voice, accelerating his rhythm, "good..." he moaned stiffening inside me and pressed deeper with all his strength. And suddenly, remaining still, tense in a spasm, he unloaded inside me.
His face had a radiant, animal beauty.
After his last jet he almost brusquely slipped out of me, went out on the terrace to wash himself. I remained there, feeling languid and happy. Giovanni would never be a lover, my lover, I thought calmly, but a splendid bounding animal.
He came back into the room and remained standing near me, to look at me. It was really agreeable looking at his naked body towering on me.
With a serious expression, he said, "So, I am your first man."
"Yes, sure."
"At your age."
"Better late than ever." I jested, smiling to him.
"You really never did anything with men, before?"
"No, never. I was not even thinking of it."
"It seems impossible. And now, all of a sudden, you like it."
"That's so."
He shook his head, then started to dress. I sat up on his airbed and looked at him.
When he turned and looked at me, I asked, "But you enjoyed it, didn't you?"
"Yes. I like fucking."
"You are good at it."
"Thank you." He dryly answered.
I stood up. He came near me and gently fingered my genitals, looking in my eyes.
"When I come back... you'd feel like doing it again, right?"
"Yes, I really think so."
"Good." He said with half a smile, and went to work.
The third and last portrait of Giovanni I painted was without any doubt the most beautiful, and I clearly understood why - I was now able to see him with different eyes, I now "knew" him intimately. His body wasn't just something beautiful for me any more, but it was... Giovanni. I don't know if I'm able to express what I mean clearly.
Before leaving Florence, and him, I drew many other sepia sketches on my pad. He sat willingly, he was a really good model. He asked me to give him one of my sketches.
After that first time, we always slept together. The following couplings were less rough than the first one, but none the less gratifying. Giovanni was curious about what he called my "sudden conversion". Trying to explain to him was also a good exercise for me in order to get to understand myself somewhat better. It was something like trying to glue together several periods of my past life, parts that, lived separately one by one, never allowed my gay side to surface but that now, seen together in a global view, showed me how mine was not at all a conversion on the road to Damascus, but simple the surfacing, the freeing of my inner reality.
"If I knew that you got drunk only because of your headache, and were naked only because of the great heat, I wouldn't have come to fuck you, you know?"
"Well, happily you didn't know, then." I answered. Then I added, "But you, anyway... you wanted to do it, didn't you?"
"Sure, since our first meeting there on top of Ponte Vecchio. But I would never have forced you if... if I knew you weren't interested in it."
"The truth is that I had no idea then that... I was interested in it."
"Well, we have both been lucky, then."
"Giovanni, have you ever had a steady boyfriend? A lover?"
"A lover? No, never. I don't know if it will ever happen. Love... I think it is just a stupid romanticism. I like to reach the goal fast."
"I'm aware of that..." I said giggling, "but you don't have to be scared by love."
"Scared? No, not scared, not I. If one day I'll fall in love... I'll just fall in love. It is just that it is unlikely. Above all I love being free. Today with one, tomorrow with another. In a while you will go away so I'll find another, and then others, who cares. Anyway I've been fine with you, very likely because we didn't just fuck."
When I left Florence, he wanted to see me off at the railways station. The French painter, Thomas' friend, also came to say farewell. Giovanni seemed annoyed. When the train was about to leave, Giovanni quickly came inside the compartment and put a small parcel on my seat.
"That's for you. Farewell." He said and quickly went out before the train started and I could react.
I leaned out of the corridor window. They were shutting the doors. The train started. Giovanni didn't answer to my parting gestures, but remained on the platform looking at me until we lost sight.
Back in my compartment I opened the little parcel. It contained a bronze key-holder with a medal on one face of which were reproduced the Michelangelo's David genitals in full relief. And in the box there was a small note folded in two, with written, "As a souvenir. Don't forget me. Giovanni (but mine is bigger)" and nothing more.
I clasped the key-holder to my belt loop and put the note in my wallet, smiling.
No, I would never forget Giovanni, my "discoverer". My hunting leopard ready to seize me, to take me, who would soon be again on the Ponte Vecchio lying in wait for his next, lucky prey.
I was leaving Florence feeling happy and enriched. Thomas had been right to push me to make this journey, even though he possibly didn't realise this aspect of it. And I was already anticipating the next stops...
CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 3
In my home page I've put some more of my stories. If someone wants to read them, the URL is
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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
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