My Ten Models

Sent: Tuesday, October 16, 2007 1:34am

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 9 - Auguste of Nice (at Hyères)

Staying at Barze l'Etang without trying to meet François again was emotionally too onerous. Thus I went to meet Alain and asked him if he could find for me another place where I could go for my painting. Possibly on the Côte d'Azur.

He came to see me a couple days later. He had located a small flat at Hyères, in the old town, inside the city walls. It was at the top floor of a medieval house and had a nice terrace overlooking the walls, from which there was a beautiful view of the sea and of the new town, all villas, hotels, gardens and parks. I liked it and rented it at once. Alain helped me to move.

As soon as I was alone in my new place, I looked in my briefcase for François parcel and letter. I opened the parcel first. It contained a wooden box all covered by a wickerwork of silk thread woven and glued on it. I thought it was the work of a local kind of folk-craft. In the box was a red silk rose, one of those imported from China, made with a remarkable realism. I then opened the letter.

"Dear Shaun - it said - this box is the only thing I did with my hands when I was in the army, to kill my free time. My comrades taught me how to do it. It is not really beautiful, but I made it. And while I was making it, I was thinking that one day I would give it to my man. Therefore it's yours. Inside there is a red rose, the symbol of love. It is not a true rose, but so, at least, it doesn't wither. I will never ever forget you! You too, if you can, don't forget me. Thank you for having been my first man. Thank you from my heart, for everything. François Laval."

I read and read again that somewhat grammatically wrong letter, written with big characters, and kissed it. Then I put it in the box, under the rose, wrapped the box with a white handkerchief and put it amongst my things.

"No, I will never forget you, François!" I said quietly to myself.

On the first days I was continually feeling the impulse to go back to Berze l'Etang to look for him. But I knew he had been right. I started to draw again and to look for some boys wanting to sit for me.

One day, while I was walking along the road running along the medieval city walls, I saw a boy. He was wearing only jeans shorts and sandals. He had a cigarette at his lips and was striking a match to light it. His smooth, hairless body was splendid - young, strong, full of vitality. His shorts were full on his fly, making a delightful curve. The cloth of the shorts was totally covered by signatures made with a black felt pen.

I thought that he could be on his twenties. He was really beautiful and very sensual. He noticed I was staring at him He drew near me, puffing out the cigarette smoke.

With a smile, he asked me, "Never seen a boy, before now?"

"Never as beautiful as you are." I answered readily.

He caught my accent. "American?"

"No, Irish."

"Tourist?"

"Painter."

"Do you want a cigarette?"

"No, thank you, I don't smoke."

"Ah, no vices?"

"No, on the contrary, I have a vice."

He looked at me with a sly smile, then quietly asked, "The beautiful boys?"

I looked at him a little surprised, and asked, "Is it so evident?"

"Well, you were looking at me in a way... it seemed you wanted to undress me."

"You already are rather undressed, aren't you?"

"Yes, but there still is one piece to take out."

"Not two? Don't you wear underpants?"

"No, never!" he answered slyly, and then asked, "So, you like me?"

"Yes, very much, as I told you."

"Would you like having me as a model?" he asked.

I really don't know where I found the cheekiness, but I replied, "No, rather as a lover."

He laughed with a silvery, shrill laugh.

I then added, "And afterwards, possibly, also as a model."

"I like you. At least you don't beat about the bush. You can't imagine how many pretexts tourists invent trying to take me into their bed..."

"But you... do you go with them?"

"It depends. If I like them, I go. Otherwise... only if they pay a good sum."

"Ah, you do it for money?"

"Rather seldom, and only with rich and ugly numbers."

"But... are you gay?"

"Up to my hair tips. And you?"

"Down to my toes nails." I answered then asked, "Are you a native?"

"No, from Nice. I spend the tourist season here."

"It's over, now..."

"It doesn't seem so - I found you!"

"So, then, am I you type?"

"Sure. Do you have a place?"

"Yes. Are you coming?"

"Willingly."

"What's your name?"

"Auguste. And yours?"

"Shaun. How old are you?"

"Eighteen. And you?"

"Just eighteen? I though a couple more... I'm ten years older than you."

"Ah. I thought a couple less... You really are a painter?"

"Sure. What do you do for a living?"

"Nothing. I'm a spoilt young man. Let's say I'm a student... when I feel like studying. I live on a private income."

"Convenient."

"Yes, very."

"And are you here with your family?"

"Heaven forbid! I could not manage my life. Dad and Mum are old style people, they are both in the Opus Dei, just think!"

"Therefore they haven't a clue about you. But since when have you known you're gay?"

"Since always, I think. But it's just four years since I started to have sex. And anyway for two I was amusing myself."

"You were fourteen, your first time?"

"Yes, it was with my brother Mathieu. He was then seventeen."

"Is he gay too?"

"He says he isn't. But I think he is, even though now he has a girlfriend. But he was enjoying both my little ass and my dick far too much... Well, I liked his too. For two years we fucked only him and me. He was coming to my room in the dead of the night and we fucked each other's ass. Almost every night. Until he left for the army service. When he came back, he said he was interested only in girls... Ugh!"

We arrived to my little flat. As soon as we were inside, Auguste clung to me and kissed me, fingering between my legs.

"Mmhh, well filled up, in this department... very promising" he said and kissed me deeply.

I caressed his bare back, then groped his small and firm buttocks through the cloth of his shorts.

I asked him, "Why all these signatures?

"The signatures of all the people with whom I fucked this summer. This is the third pair of shorts. Each year I collect them."

"So, then, I will have to sign them, afterwards?"

"Of course." He said, then asked, "Do you have something to show me?"

"Paintings... or something else?" I slyly asked.

He laughed, "First the paintings and then... something else. Does that suit you?"

"Sure. Come in the other room."

He admired my portraits. "Did you fuck with all of them?"

"No, no, just with some... several."

"This one?" he asked me pointing at Pablo's portrait.

"Yes, this one yes, sure."

"God what a hunk!" he exclaimed. "But do you paint them first or fuck them first?"

"I usually paint them first ..."

"So, then, I shall be the exception!"

"Almost."

I showed him my sketch pad as well.

"Beautiful, all very beautiful. You really are an artist. Do you also sell your drawings?"

"At times."

"I'd like buying one of these, to put in a frame in my bedroom. Would you sell me this one?" he asked showing me a sketch of Pablo, with his member half erect.

"It could be done."

"He's arousing. How much do you ask for this drawing?"

"How much are you ready to spend?"

"For this one? A thousand... two thousand francs?" he proposed.

I mentally calculated the value in pounds.

He proposed, "Three thousand, but no more."

"I usually sell them for about a thousand and five hundred francs, but for you..."

"No no. If you sell them for a thousand five hundred, I'll give you a thousand five hundred. Business is business. So, then is it mine?"

"Alright. Wait, I'll take it out." I said.

He pulled his wallet out from his back pocket and took a cheque book from it. "Is a cheque alright?"

"Sure."

He paused, "I would have spent three thousand. Is it alright if I choose another one and write a cheque for three thousand?"

"As you like..."

He thumbed again through my pads. This time he chose a drawing representing Giovanni.

"You like strong men.." I remarked.

"Yes, the virile ones."

"Perhaps I'll disappoint you then."

"I don't think so. But we can soon verify that, can't we?" he answered wryly and handed me the cheque.

I liked that boy, just eighteen but so self-confident. He contemplated the two drawings with a contented expression.

"What will your family say, when they see these two drawings in your bedroom?" I asked him.

"Oh. Not in my family home. I've an attic all to myself in Nice. I keep all my gay videos, magazines there ... and that's where I fuck."

"And your family doesn't know?"

"Good heavens, of course not! Besides the fact that they are almost never at home."

"And how do you manage for paying the rent, without your parents coming to know?"

"I own it, I don't have to pay any rent. When my grand-mother died, she left me all the attic floor, there downtown. I let all of them but one. They were seven, I split the widest one in two, so I always officially get seven monthly payments and my Dad thinks I let all of them. Very simple, isn't it?"

I admired him - he would become a good businessman for sure.

"May I offer you something, Auguste?"

"Yes, your bed." The boy answered with a grin.

I took him to my bedroom. He took his sandals off and jumped on my bed.

"Come here, I want to undress you." He proposed.

I drew near him. He undressed me, studying me.

"You are not bad at all. Are all the Irishmen like you?"

"You Latins are really beautiful."

"There is beauty and ugliness in all places." He answered caressing my naked body.

Lying down on the bed, he stretched out his head and started to lick and suck my member.

"Yes, I like you. You should paint your self-portrait, naked of course. I would buy it. Come here on the bed, come on. I haven't fucked for three days and I really need it."

"Just three days?" I asked lying down near him while he was taking off his shorts.

"Way too long for me. In Nice I have a little Algerian friend who, each time I don't have a bed mate, comes to spend the night with me. He is just sixteen but he looks the same age as me. And in bed he's a bomb! He sucks it wonderfully and has a fabulous little ass. But he is just a bottom. I hope you are also a top..."

"Yes, I like it both ways."

"Great. How long will you stay here in Hyères?"

"Three, four weeks, one month..."

"Good Do you like my cock?"

"Yes, sure, you're all well built. Do you practice sports?"

"Yes, tennis, swimming, riding and sex!"

"You certainly have a perfect body."

"Thank you. You must enjoy it, then.." he said mischievously and spread his legs.

I understood what he wanted and went down to give him pleasure with my mouth. He caressed my hair while I was sucking him, then turned around to unite with me in a sixty-nine. He was uninhibited, hot, exciting.

"Do you have some cream, Shaun?"

"Lubricating gel? Yes, I have some."

"Get it, then. I want to do a little of everything with you, before coming. You have condoms too, don't you?"

"Yes, of course."

"Did you ever do it with a woman?"

"Yes..."

"Oh, how could you? I... just the thought of it would make me lose my hard-on. Only males, for me!" he said gaily.

I handed him the gel. He slipped a condom on his beautiful stake then worked my hole for a while with the gel.

"I'll now fuck your ass, but then you too will fuck mine, agreed? But without coming. I never like things ending too soon."

He made me go on all fours He slipped it all inside me with just one, slow, continuous push, then made me raise my chest and embraced me from behind, caressing my chest and belly, while starting to move back and forth.

"You like, Shaun?"

"Yes, Auguste, I like."

"Ah, fucking is one of the best things a man is able to do... and also being fucked. You have a nice ass, tight... I like you..."

He screwed me for a long while, with calm and vigour, but then stopped.

"Good; enough now, or I'll come. I want now feel you inside me...! Now fuck my ass, come on!"

"Lie on your back then..." I suggested.

He understood. Laid down and pulled his legs up onto his chest, offering himself for penetration. I put on a condom but, instead of spreading the gel on his hole, I started to work it with my tongue.

"Oh, fucking hell!" Auguste moaned, "This way is really great! But isn't it unpleasant for you?"

"No, not at all. And for you?"

"For me? It's wonderful... you are making me feel like a bitch! Oh, that tongue... you are making me desire a cock more than ever. This way you would make even the most out-and-out straight man crazy for a cock!" he said making his sphincter contract. "Good heavens! Is this an English trick?"

"No, I learned it here, on the Mediterranean."

Auguste was threshing about all over the place, seized by a strong pleasure. And when I was finally about to penetrating him he was more than ready to receive me. I sank inside him with just one strong stroke. Auguste seemed to appreciate it.

"Christ, what a male! Go on, ride me, now! Make me feel all of it. Drive me crazy... Fuck me, Shaun, go on!" he spurred me, his voice hoarse with passion.

I complied, taking him with energy. The bed was squeaking with each of my strokes and Auguste was moaning, enraptured. But when he felt I was accelerating he blocked me, clasping me against him with his strong legs.

"No way, darling! You should not come yet, or else you will lose heart and lose the desire to make love. I want you for a long time..." he said.

I remained still inside him. "How did your brother take you?"

"He made me lie on my belly and came on top of me. Why?"

"Just to know Did you like it?"

"I like all the positions. And my brother had a bigger tool than mine. In spite of the cream, at first it was somewhat painful but I liked it too much to complain... And afterwards he sucked me and made me come in his mouth, or else he went in all his fours and made me fuck him. But he never let me suck his dick, he just liked to put it in my ass..."

I slipped out of him and he took off my condom.

"Good, so we can now suck each other for a while, then we will fuck each other again... You have enough condoms, haven't you?"

We went on making love for a long time until he came first inside me, then I too unloaded inside his nice little ass.

"I like you, Shaun. And I hope you like me too."

"Yes, very much. You are a really wonderful young male!"

"My Algerian little friend always tell me so. He likes being screwed by me a lot. But it's a pity he is only a bottom... Can you pass me my shorts, please?"

"You want already get dressed?"

"No, I just need to smoke. Does it bother you?"

"Not at all. Here they are."

"I always need a cigarette, after a good fuck... But if I don't enjoy it, I don't even feel the need to smoke..." Auguste said, lighting a cigarette.

"Can I draw you in this position, lying on my bed?"

"Yes, I'd rather like..."

I went to take my pad and the sepia crayon and drew him. I turned the paper to start another drawing.

"Would you please change your pose, Auguste?"

"Yes... Is it alright like this?" he asked sitting up on the bed, his legs crossed, his half-hard member well visible between his thighs.

"Yes, perfect."

I drew several sketches, also one standing on the terrace, leaning against the white low wall of the parapet.

"May I offer you supper?" he asked me when I put away pad and crayon.

"Yes, thank you. Where?"

"Let's take my bike. I'll take you to La Ciotat. It is a typical restaurant, but a very good one. But we have first to call at my place for me to put on some more clothes."

"It's a pity, you're so beautiful." I said while putting on my clothes.

He smiled, "I stay like this, half naked, when I go to hustle."

"Oh, so you were hustling when we met!"

"Yes, of course." He answered with a sly wink. The said, "Ah, you have to sign my shorts. Where do you want..."

I signed on his fly and he giggled.

We went out to his bike which was parked outside the walls. We went almost to the seashore where he had a room in a luxury hotel that belonged to his father. When he returned he wore tight black jeans and a very colourful shirt, both signed Versace. He was really elegant and very sexy. We went on his bike to the restaurant where we ate very well and chatted about a thousand matters. He wanted to pay with his credit card. Then he took me to Marseilles, to a gay disco, where we danced. Several guys were hanging around him, but he didn't give them any hope.

"You didn't like any of those folk?" I asked him while we were leaving.

"Yes, more than one. But I'm with you, aren't I?"

"Thank you. You are really kind."

"Well, I can also be a bitch, but I do know how to behave..." he giggled.

"A bitch? You seem rather a very good boy, I think."

"You are the one who is very kind.. But I really am something of a bitch. Didn't you notice how many signature there are on my shorts?"

He saw me at home.

"Can we meet again? Tomorrow?" I asked him.

"I was waiting for you to ask me. Yes, of course. I'll come to take you for lunch, then I'll sit a while for you and, after digesting, we will make love. Then again we can spend the evening out, together. Are you up for that?"

"A nice program.." I said.

He came again. And not only the following day.

After a few days, Auguste said me, "If you want other boys to paint, I can find some for you. All beauties. But you have first to promise me you won't fuck them! As long as you stay here, I would like you to fuck only with me."

"Alright, I promise. But where will you find them? Do you know lot of people here?"

"A few boys, mainly hustlers. But you don't need to pay them. If I simply ask them to sit for you it will not be necessary."

So he brought me some boys, all really handsome. As I promised him, I didn't have sex with them, even though one of them tried it on.

Auguste was going on offering me lunches and suppers and when I protested, he said, "I'm rolling in money. And I like doing it. It possibly makes me feel more... more of a man. And I like showing around someone as handsome as you are. And a painter. And if one day you become famous, I can say - he was a friend of mine..."

In bed it was always exciting being with him, but not just in bed. We were gradually becoming friends. He told me pieces of his life and I related pieces of mine We were discussing of our ideas and the days were flying away, fast and very enjoyable. The weather was starting to worsen but there were still good days.

I draw several sketches of him and painted some canvasses, also of the boys he was bringing me. I was feeling in a good mood and was happy with my production. As usual, I painted a few landscapes as well.

And the day of my departure came again.

"Where are you going, now?"

"I was thinking of making a last stop in Paris, then back to London."

"Will you paint in Paris too?"

"Yes, of course"

"A very dear friend of mine lives in Paris. His name is Jules and he is twenty-one. You will like him. You can paint him and... also fuck him, if you feel like it."

"He seems interesting."

"He too has pots of money. He can help you, if you want."

"Well, it's not necessary..."

"Come on, don't be too proud. If I call him he will do it willingly. And I would be happy."

After he insisted some more, I accepted. He called his friend from his hotel room and fixed a date for me. Jules said he would wait for me at the airport.

We had just two more days to spend together. Auguste wanted to help me to prepare all my luggage and to take them to Marseilles airport. Then he persuaded me to spend my last night in his hotel room. I accepted this also. After I offered my thanks to Alain and said goodbye, Auguste took me to his hotel on his bike We had supper then went to his room.

"We never spent a full night together." He remarked.

"Yes, that's true."

"Well, so we will conclude our encounter with a flourish. But first we have to swap our addresses."

We wrote them down, then we undressed. We first went to take a shower together. There, under the heavy spray of water, we in fact started our last night of love, when we spread the bathing gel on each other making it give a good lather with long and intimate massages, so awakening our erections. When we carefully rinsed each other, removing all traces of the lather with extenuating caresses, we ended in one another's arms and we kissed, sprayed, caressed and teased by the pelting water. And when we finally dried each other, down to the lesser folds of our bodies, we were doing it more for the pleasure of touching each other than for a real need to dry each other...

Auguste wanted to evaporate on our bodies a light cloud of gentle perfume with a rather sour scent of moss and underbrush herbs. Then, back in the bedroom, he switched on the stereo at a low volume, then pulled me on his wide bed with freshly laundered sheets. We calmly caressed each other, savouring each quiver, each shudder of pleasure, in a crescendo of sensations.

"Shaun, I love the way you are touching me. It is almost as if you are modelling me. Tonight you seem more a sculptor than a painter. Your hands have a magic power, that of making me feel more manly than ever Every day I've made love with you, you have made me feel more virile. Also when you put it inside me, you make me feel more manly ..."

"You are a poet, Auguste."

"I never realised it. But yes, it's true, it's you who had awakened the poet in me. It is probably right for you to go away, or else you will make me your slave."

"You are exaggerating, now... But without doubt, for me it has been good making love with you, and making love again tonight. But you, with all your experience.. who knows how many men you found who were better than me. I know I am nothing special."

"Are you really sure about that? Yes, it's true, I've found men more handsome than you. But they were lacking so many things that you have. And I've found men cleverer than you, but they were missing a lot of other things. And men more arousing than you, but missing so many things... I mean, if I had to write down your report card, your marks could all be eight out of ten, not nines or tens. But your average would be a full eight. All the others could also have the odd nine or ten, but then also some low scores so that their average would lower, a seven or maybe less... You therefore are for me, up to now, the only one having a such a high average. You are the best one."

I smiled at that so complex compliment. "Are you, by chance, falling in love with me?"

"No, don't worry. I'm not able to love. I'm a spoiled brat and too full of money. But I'm able to appreciate the good things that life offers to me. And my life offered me you. No, I'm not in love with you. But fascinated, yes, definitely. This is the first time that I've been fascinated by somebody who is not me!" he concluded with a light sense of humour.

He kissed me intimately, caressing me on the most sensitive spots, making my desire for him increase in a dizzy way. When he perceived he had brought me to the right level, he silently offered himself to me with an enticing smile. I then prepared to penetrate him. I could feel his desire to have me inside him and this was giving me a strong and subtle pleasure. I penetrated him.

He merrily moaned, "Yes, so... let me feel now that I belong to you. Fill me totally..."

I embraced him tightly and started to move inside him, back and forth, with a deep pleasure. I was looking at my pole slipping inside and out of his nice little ass, so firm, hot and welcoming, and was enjoying it totally. I was moving inside with his tight channel agreeably clasping to my shaft, so that it seemed he was almost made to measure for me. I looked at his face, and the enjoyment I read on it, increased mine.

When he met my eyes, he smiled me and said, "Shaun, it's really great being fucked like this by you... Don't come too fast..."

I nodded and went on to slowly slip out of him then to dive inside him vigorously but without violence, in a kind of syncopated rhythm that was making our excitement grow, gradually but continuously. When we both felt that my orgasm was at the door, I looked at him with hesitation.

"Don't stop... Don't go faster but don't stop... just go on this way..." Auguste murmured as a connoisseur.

I tried to follow his advice... and when a strong shudder announced my first spurt, the first wave of my seed inside him, he repeated, "Go on the same way, Shaun, go on..."

At that point I was all a shudder, I had difficulty controlling myself, but went on to slip out and dive, spurt in his depth, slip out and dive, throwing a new spurt... until not even a drop of seed was left to give him; but I went on with my movements, just gradually slowing down. At that point my pole inside him was hypersensitive, all my body was hypersensitive. I was all a tremble because of that so new and so different orgasm. And Auguste was going on to smile at me, enjoying my prolonged enjoyment, until I went limp on him, exhausted, satisfied and still trembling.

He caressed me and little by little made me roll on the bed, on my back, parting from me. Going on to caress me, he had me spread my legs, raise them up and assumed the position to take me. I was feeling subdued, ready, filled with desire to be penetrated by him.

Auguste entered me like a stallion in heat. He expressed all the excitement I had built inside him and that didn't yet have a release, in that penetration and in the subsequent wonderful fuck he gave me.

Now the sweet and yielding August that just before was gratefully receiving me, had transformed into a strong and virile male taking me with the light of wild and unrestrained joy in his eyes, and yet without violence.

That eighteen-year-old boy was now like a mature man, a male in the splendour of his fullness, and was towering above me, dominating me... and yet at the same time he was won and was losing himself inside me. They were at once weird and good sensations. His eyes were shining while he was filling me with his hard rod and while he was partly withdrawing, and his hands were kneading my pectorals.

"Kiss me, Auguste, while you fuck me..." I asked him.

He lowered himself enough to make our mouths meet, and so now was taking me only with jerks and rotations of his pelvis, working only with his loins. But then he parted from my mouth and started to fuck me again with sweeping movements, thus making me enjoy the whole length of his burning pole.

And then he came.

We laid down, embraced, kissing each other. We fell asleep, but just for a short time, because our yens awakened again and made us awaken, so we started to make love again until we reached another orgasm, and fell asleep anew... and then again, until dawn caught us still in search for the mutual pleasure.

"I'll call you..." Auguste promised me at the airport, while I was passing through the boarding gate.

CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 10

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