NEITHER ANGEL NOR HUSTLER by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2008 written on August 12, 1992 translated by the author English text kindly revised by Acam
USUAL DISCLAIMER
"NEITHER ANGEL NOR HUSTLER" 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.
Fifth notebook
Samba and his never-ending search for his Prince Charming: once it seemed that he found him. One of his johns, a certain Arnaldo, a bank director seemed to have become really fond of our Samba. He gave him gifts besides paying him of course and he filled him with kindness. He also was a handsome man of forty-eight, distinguished, elegant and refined.
Well then one day Samba came back home and told us that Arnaldo was pressing him hard and had been for some time, to stop hustling and go to live with him. Arnaldo told him that he liked him a lot, that he wants to have him all to himself and that he feels bad thinking that Samba fucks with other people too and so on. Samba confessed to us that he felt really tempted to accept but he is not totally sure it would be the right thing.
Zio asked him "What exactly is he offering you?"
"To live with him. He has a beautiful apartment where he lives alone. He has a Philippino boy for all the chores who comes for eight hours each day. He says that as the Philippino does the laundry, the mending, the ironing and cooks and so on I wouldn't have to do any work."
"Alright but if you go and live with him he will not pay you any more." Zio said.
"Of course not. He will buy me everything I need. Up to now he has always been generous. I don't think he will change..."
Jimmi asked him, "How is he physically? What is his character like and how is he in bed? Do you like him?"
"Yes, he has a handsome body he is pleasant and he fucks nicely... at least as I like it. I wouldn't be able to tell which of us enjoys it more when we fuck."
Then I asked him "But all day long while he is at work - what would you do? Aren't you going to get bored being alone at home for hours and hours?"
"He said that if I feel like it he will enrol me in a language school. So that when he travels (which he often does) I can accompany him without feeling ill at ease. He speaks four languages did you know?"
Giorgio said, "It seems as if he has really thought about it... But does he listen to you? Does he respect you? Or does he plan everything and treats you just as a little whore?"
"Oh no he is always really kind and when he suggests something he always asks me to say honestly what I think about it do I agree and whether I feel like it. I really get well along with him very well..."
"But then "MemŽ asked, "if everything is so perfectly fine as you say what makes you hesitate still?"
"It's just that... I ask myself... if one day he gets tired of me what can I do then? If he got tired soon while I'm still a boy, I could just go back to hustling and everything would be alright. But if it happened later? That is what worries me."
"Well learning languages could be useful one day. If I were in your shoes I would try." Jimmi said.
"And you boys - what do you think?" Samba asked us.
"I would be sorry if you left us. But I would accept his offer too." MemŽ said with his big puppy eyes and brushing his usual rebel forelock back into place.
Giorgio and I both said, "I would accept too."
Zio kept silent for a while and then said "But first I would try him out by telling him what you think about about your future. I would want to understand how he sees it and whether he has thought about it or not and how he thinks this problem could be solved. Then, if you liked his answer... well, I would say I'm game too."
So a few days later Samba left us and went to live with Arnaldo. Actually Arnaldo told him that he would open a bank account in Samba's name and each month he would transfer a kind of salary into it and that would be Samba's money and he could do with it as he pleased so that if Arnaldo got tired of him, he would not be destitute. Samba had found the man of his dreams.
He called us quite often to listen to our news and to tell us how he was getting on. Sometimes we saw him during the day too. He told us he was fine; he was treated wonderfully and he had started his language classes (for the moment French and English in private schools) and that he enjoyed these studies. Arnaldo also arranged for Samba to get his driving licence and bought him a Fiat-126 (a metallic blue one) so that he could be independent. He also took Samba to the theatre to the movies and to parties., He always introduced him as a nephew who had come from abroad to study and who was his guest at his home.
Three or four times each week they fucked like rabbits sometimes in the bath tub sometimes on the lounge carpet... and in bed too, of course. He didn't have to wait for Arnaldo to want it - when Samba felt like it he didn't usually refuse. Whether it was in the morning, the evening, the afternoon or at night.
They had been together for four months when they went in April to spend a month on the island of Guadalupe where Arnaldo rented a bungalow. Samba was all electrified about this first holiday with his man. He sent us a letter singing the natural beauties of the place and telling us that they also made love at night amidst the waves and describing everything in great detail. Eight full pages filled with his usual sense of humour and of joy. We read and re-read them, feeling very amused and happy for our friend though our home seemed a little empty without him around.
++++++++++++++++++
On that subject just after we received that letter and realised that everything was going as well as could be for our friend, I suggested to the others that we could get another boy to share with us. I was thinking of Muhammad. My friends agreed at once as they already knew him. So, the next time I met my Moroccan friend I offered him this suggestion.
"You can't know how pleased I am Niki, and how timely your offer is. In fact my friends and I have to leave the room where we live before the end of the month and we haven't yet found another place."
"Won't you be sorry to leave your friends?"
"No, first of all because I can come with you and I really like you. But also because those boys are rather fanatical and think that Arabs are the only people who are smart and have values. And the daily prayers, and the ablutions and Ramadan and everything gets on my nerves... I'm absolutely not ashamed of being an Arab although I have some Berber blood in my veins but I'm not the least proud of being one. Moreover I'm not a devout Muslim really... Anyway in my opinion every people has its own values and... and I feel really good with you Italians."
"So, are you coming?"
"Tomorrow if I can!"
No sooner said than done. Muhammad is now with us and sleeps with Jimmi. We have tried to pin a nickname to him and after a few failed attempts we call him Mauro now.
Abdel too was really glad that his cousin came to live with us. Muhammad got into good habits at once and does well and he helps to keep the house clean and shining with great care. He spends lot of his free time cleaning and polishing, so that our home, which was already clean, is now as clean as a new pin. He also often makes mint tea for us using the nice tea set that Abdel gave me.
At first he found our usual nakedness or half-nakedness at home a bit embarrassing as Arabs are not used to it but he gradually did get used to it and now it happens more and more often that we see his beautiful cut pecker dangling around. We recognise that he has a delightful little arse too. It's a tonic to our eyes.
I think that about one month after he began living with us he started to have sex with Jimmi. They don't consider themselves as a steady couple but just as two friends who like to enjoy each other in bed. Now Muhammad is gradually giving up going hustling in the street because he has become came part of our circle of telephone dates. In bed Muhammad prefers to be a bottom but if a john asks him he can also be a top without any effort.
Muhammad tried to have sex with me one day while we were taking a shower but I explained to him what I feel for Giorgio. He gave a funny sigh but didn't insist. A few days later he commented that it's odd that I have sex without problems not only with my johns but with Abdel too and I have no problems having sex with him when we go and meet Abdel.
So then I explained to him that Jimmi is an exception and now he is too because as we live together I worry that I could fall in love with them if I agreed to have sex with them and I don't want that to happen. He seemed to be flattered and he never again raised that subject. Muhammad is always full of tact.
+++++++++++++++++
Samba came back from his holidays and resumed his city life. He came to see us and seemed happy to see that Muhammad had taken his place. Zio told him that if one day he wanted to come back this is his home.
"I don't think I will. I'm getting on really well with Arnaldo. He treats me like a son an adult son... well, besides the fact he fucks with me. He gives me great freedom and he also spoils me a little. Anyway, thank you boys. I miss you a bit. At home I often go around naked. Arnaldo accepted it after some resistance and now he like it - we fuck even more than before.
"The Philippine (who is also gay) looks at me with bedroom eyes as if he wanted to eat me up but he doesn't try because he's afraid he might lose his job. I try not to provoke him so when he is around I wear my boxers so that he can work in peace.
"The story that I'm his nephew works well as a cover up so sometimes I can go to the bank to say hallo to him and he can invite some colleagues home in the evening or other people from his bank without problems..."
"But are you happy Samba?" MemŽ interrupted him.
"Yes, I am. He is not a Prince he is not Charming but I'm good with him. He never talks about my past as a hustler. Maybe he doesn't want to remember it - anyway he never brings it up. But if it wasn't for that he would never have met me. But two or three times I have hinted that I would like to have you all home together for a meal and I think it could be that he doesn't want to be reminded of my past and he always changes the subject. I regret this because you have been and still are my family here in Italy. But nobody is perfect are they? He knows I sometimes come here to see you and that I call you and he doesn't mind. I always tell him everything I do because I think that only by being totally open and honest with him can bring him to trust me. Am I not right?"
We all agreed. Then Giorgio asked him, "Don't you find being faithful to him a burden?"
"No because he satisfies me completely and I think I satisfy him. Anyway this was our agreement - I went to live with him in order to be faithful to him right?"
"But are you in love with each other?" our MemŽ asked.
"No we just are fine together. Who knows; maybe one day we may fall in love with each other... That day he would really become my Prince Charming."
++++++++++++++++
Ruggiero was depressed and it was a bore being with him. I think he's still having problems with his ex who goes on hanging around him. Once he called two other hustlers as well as me and for a while he wanted us all to poke him in all his holes at once. I remember that I thought he wanted to drown his troubles in cocks instead of wine. But after a while he just withdrew and asked us to have sex between us while he just watched.
Well, I must say that for us that was more fun at east for me. Better than doing a porn movie! I think I wouldn't mind being an actor in that kind of movie because I discovered that being looked at while I'm fucking arouses me a lot. What happened to the na•ve little Nicola that let Tomaso give him head in the back of his shop and then went to confess his sins? The ugly duckling became a swan though I say it myself.
Anyway, when I'm alone with Ruggiero I try to buck him up though I'm not sure I succeed very well. If only he was able to give up Carlo (his ex) totally! To Carlo it comes in handy to be able to continue to take advantage of Ruggiero's sentiments (but even more of his money). Carlo is really beautiful but really unpleasant too. He is moreover incredibly selfish and a conceited ass. He milks Ruggiero then he treats him like shit. Who knows why Ruggiero lets Carlo treat him like that? Does he still hope Carlo will go back to him?
One day while I was just coming out of the toilet I heard Carlo saying to Ruggiero, "... the fact is darling that you love taking it in your arse in all the meanings of the phrase physical and psychological. You enjoy being ill treated..."
What a bastard! I thought and became mad at him. So I came out of the toilet and made Ruggiero understand I wanted to have sex so he asked Carlo to leave and at once he seemed to feel better. We went in his egg-shaped bedroom and I did my very best to make him enjoy it as much as possible and I succeeded. In fact when I left him Ruggiero was almost in a normal mood. Good lord if I had control of Carlo I don't know what I would do to him but I would certainly make him pay for everything.
+++++++++++++++
Surprise, surprise! Alberto called me and when I got to his apartment... his wife was not at home. He wanted have sex with me all the same and for the first time he wanted to give me head too. He then asked me to fuck him in the arse as usual but from in front and he enjoyed it crazily. When I was ready to leave he asked me to say nothing to his wife and paid me double. All but straight in front and really gay on the other side! I never saw him so turned on and wild - is his real ego coming to light?
I have to say that I enjoyed it too - and much more than the other times - having that woman under my balls even though I didn't have to touch her was rather disturbing for me. But then whether we're talking of Alberto or any one else what is the sense of sticking labels on them? Everyone has his own kind of sexuality, his own secret dreams and so on. Anyway I got the idea to try to fuck and be fucked by Alberto. After the time we were alone Alberto started to alternate calling me when his wife was there too and when he was alone with me.
+++++++++++++++++
Giorgio is blowing hot and cold by turns. Sometimes he cuddles me; sometimes he seems to want to keep a distance between us. If I think hard about it maybe I'm blowing up very little things because I'm hypersensitive to the signals coming from him. He really treats me very well as a real friend...
I talked about that again to Zio and he says I must get him out of my head, Or rather out of my heart because in his opinion mine is a lost cause. He suggested that I change rooms to go to sleep with Jimmi or with Muhammad rather than sharing a room with Giorgio. But I don't want to.
Zio shook his head and said, "Niki I cannot interfere between you."
"I know and I'm not asking you to do that. I just need to see the situation clearly in my mind and to get your advice."
"Then that's alright. I only regret that you are suffering."
"Well, not too much; it's bearable."
"So much the better."
For the first time since we had begun to live together, Zio hugged me very tightly to give me courage and the gesture made me feel as good as if I had an elder brother.
MemŽ said to me that Zio told him about Giorgio and me ("You know we always tell each other everything but we don't gossip...") and that he hopes that one day somehow the solution I'm hoping for will be achieved. Well the exact words he said were "I'm shouting for you!"
++++++++++++++++
Arnaldo got a promotion and was appointed as the director of the branch of his bank in Amsterdam so he has to move there and so Samba will go too. And so we will see him very seldom from now on. He promised he will write to us because he wants us to stay in touch. I'm sorry to lose Samba. The last time we met he told me that Arnaldo has changed in one significant respect - now when they have sex he always wants Samba to tell him about his experiences when he was a hustler and wants to hear all the details and not to leave out a single thing and calls him his little pig and tells him that he knows that Samba is and remains a hustler at heart and this is why he likes him so much and he wants him to do all the filth he used to do, but only with Arnaldo.
Samba said that Arnaldo talks like that only to get aroused but I didn't like that at all. I liked his previous attitude better even if that was the reason why he never wanted us to go to his home. I hope to be wrong and I hope that Samba is right. Anyway they left for Holland.
We received Samba's first letter from Amsterdam. He describes the city, the people and the unusual and interesting things he is discovering. But I noticed that he says practically nothing about himself and Arnaldo and this worries me. He closed his letter by telling us that he misses us.
+++++++++++++++++
Muhammad came back home from a date with a john with a face I didn't like at all. All of us noticed it. After some insistence we got him to tell us what happened. He said that his john who is a guy that Zio knows rather well after a while started to insult him with words like, "Keep still there, filthy Arab dog - I want to spurt on your muzzle" or else, "god what a pleasure it is to break the arse of a Moroccan bastard dog" and also, "lick my arse you who are just a shit eater" and such things.
Muhammad said us that he managed not to react but it was difficult because he never felt so humiliated and offended before not so much for the sentences or the words but because of the poison and scorn he could detect in that guy's voice.
Zio was hopping mad and he wasn't the only one. We decided that we have to give that bastard a first-rate lesson he will never forget. Muhammad said it doesn't matter that he just won't go with that john any more but Zio insisted and told him that to offend one of us is like offending all of us and that there was no sense in suffering such an offence without a reaction. So we all started to talk about how we could avenge Muhammad. Some of the ideas were clearly impractical or exaggerated or too risky but all were rather ferocious. We gradually chose the best ideas and a plan took shape.
So when the bastard had the guts to ask Muhammad for a new date he accepted. But all six of us showed up at the meeting. As soon as he opened the door we forced our way in. He jumped up saying he was going to call the police but we jumped on him all together. We immobilized him, put an adhesive plaster on his mouth and undressed him completely. Then we tied him up like salami. You had to see his frightened eyes and his face as white as a sheet!
Then Giorgio took out a sheet of paper and started to say, "We are here gathered as a special court to judge this piece of shit. Is it true that when you came here, Muhammad, he told you - Keep still there filthy Arab dog - I want to spurt on your muzzle -?"
"Yes, it is true." Muhammad answered.
"Is it true that he also said - god what a pleasure it is to break the arse of a Moroccan bastard dog - ?"
"Yes, it is so."
"And that he also said - lick my arse, you who are just a shit eater -?"
"Yes he said that."
"And did he also say - you Arabs should all live in the bogs - ?"
"Yes, he said it."
"Good. So should an animal using such expressions be acquitted or sentenced?"
We all in chorus answered "Sentenced!"
And Giorgio said "I condemn you - for the first sentence we all will spurt on your face; for the second one the six of us will fuck your arse; for the third one we will fill your apartment with shit; and for the fourth one we will all piss all over you. And be grateful to this court that all the other abusive sentences you dared say to the injured party were not recorded in this indictment."
The guy was tossing and writhing seized by panic. But we were absolutely determined so first we all fucked him in the arse (we knew that he boasted of being exclusively a top - in fact he had a really tight hole) but without coming because when we were near orgasm we pulled out and came on his face, while the next one fucked his gaping hole. After we were done we surrounded him (he was lying on a precious Persian carpet in his lounge) and all six pissed on him.
We finally went around his apartment shitting all around - in fact when he called to fix the date with Muhammad for the day after, we all didn't go to the toilet for twenty-four hours so we all were well full. And then we cleaned our arse-holes on his curtains. The guy's face was purple. Then Jimmy called 999 giving that guy's address and telling the police that he had been assaulted by a gang of hooligans. We quietly left leaving him there well tied and gagged the entrance door open. We were satisfied. We also spread the word amongst all the other gay hustlers we knew so than no-one would never ever go with him again. In fact he never showed up any more.
The day after in the newspaper in the city news there was a short article saying that a gang of a dozen (yes, 12!) unknown hooligans broke into the apartment of the well known professional man mister So-and-So, had assailed him, tied him up, robbed him (!!!) and vandalised his apartment (without specifying what). "Ah, what times we are living in!"
We have still kept Giorgio's record of the "trial" together with the newspaper article. After all that guy got off cheaply.
End of the event.
++++++++++++++
Unfortunately the second letter from Samba proved my fears right. It was short; he just said that he was well but told us almost nothing. He was missing us he said, but we didn't have to worry about him as he could look after himself. Then we all wrote him a long letter together where we tried to convey our concern and told him that it was very important to us to know the truth about how he is and we told him about us.
For two months we didn't receive any news from him and we were really starting to worry. Then at last came a new letter from Samba in which he told us everything.
Just a while after they moved to Amsterdam Arnaldo started to attend gay premises alone leaving Samba at home. Then he started to take hustlers home with whom he fucked telling Samba to go to sleep in another room and leave them alone. When our friend asked him if he was dissatisfied with him Arnaldo answered that one hustler was as good as an other and that Samba should be grateful that he was being kept Although he wasn't doing anything.
Samba didn't give up hoping that situation would change and Arnaldo would start to make love to him again. Then Arnaldo started to ask Samba to let the hustlers he brought home fuck him so that Arnaldo could watch and get himself aroused and then sent him away and amused himself alone with the hustler. Samba didn't dislike being fucked by those boys (he wrote that they were usually real hunks and were skilled in the trade) but he didn't like being treated as if he were as worthless as toy just as an object.
When he realised that the situation instead of getting better was getting worse he asked Arnaldo if he wanted him to leave.
The guy answered him "You can do as you like I don't give a shit. I would rather save my money."
Samba asked Arnaldo please to explain him what he had done wrong that made Arnaldo tired of him. What mistake had he made?
The bastard answered "Nothing. As from a hustler I could expect nothing. I'm simply fed up having you around."
Then Samba decided to leave. Arnaldo gave him the savings book with his money (at least he was honest that far) and told him he could take away his clothes and the presents Arnaldo gave him. Samba chose only what could be useful and what he liked best, prepared his luggage and found himself thrown on the street.
But he didn't lose heart. He looked for "Rent-a-boy" agencies as Amsterdam is full of them and he went to see several of them until he found one which took him on 'on trial'. After a month he was hired as a steady boy with a regular contract. So he now was a hustler again (an 'escort', they say up there) in an agency for gay men. He wrote and told us that he is earning rather good money that he amuses himself and that after all he ought to be grateful to Arnaldo who had him learn French and English as the languages are now useful for his new job.
We wrote and told him that if he wants to come back he is always welcome here but he answered that for the moment he is well and will stay there and that he knows that our door will always be open for him and he thanks us for it as this gives him a feeling of safety.
End of a dream.
++++++++++++++++++++
Ruggiero killed himself by shooting himself in the mouth with his pistol. When I read it on the newspaper I felt like shit and really felt sorry for that. He was a weird and boring guy it's true but after all he was a good man. I went to his funeral - there was almost nobody there but above all thank goodness there was no sign of Carlo. In my opinion he was the real cause of that poor devil's suicide at least in part. But there was an old lady if I understood correctly she was his sister who after the funeral came and asked me if I was Ruggiero's friend.
I told her I was just an acquaintance and that once upon a time every now and then I worked for him. Fortunately she didn't ask about that and thanked me for going to the funeral. Who knows why but after the funeral, while I was coming back home, I thought of Fulvio and asked myself if he too might not come to the same end. He is probably stressed by the situation with his son. But he may be made in another mould. Perhaps his meetings with me are enough to relieve his frustrations. At least that's what I hope.
++++++++++++++++++
Giorgio won a journey to Venice everything included for two people. He had bought a box of chocolates and sent off the enclosed post-card. So he suggested to me that we go there together just the two of us.
So we went. The flight was in first class. We got to the hotel (I never saw so much luxury in all my life!) and they installed us in a suite and Giorgio decided we had to share the king size bed (with canopy!).
When I objected that if we did so the hotel staff would spread slander about us he just answered, "I don't give a shit!"
On one hand I was happy but on the other hand I was worried - it has always been difficult to sleep in the same room as him in two beds; just think how much worse it would be if we were in the same bed! Can it really be possible that he doesn't realise that?"
We explored the city and the islands far and wide - it's really enchanting even though I felt there is like a veil of sadness over the carefree life of the "calli" that is the streets and canals. I liked it a lot anyway; and also because Giorgio pointed out plenty of wonderful things to me that I might not have noticed or valued enough if I had been there alone.
On the first night when we went to bed all naked as usual when our bodies brushed each other lightly, his warmth sent me wild and gave me an incredible hard-on. I lay down on my belly so that he wouldn't notice my hard-on. We talked for a long time until we fell asleep. The following nights were all more or less like the first one but with the variation that during the third night I woke up feeling Giorgio's body against mine and his hard cock pushing against me.
I called to him to find out if he was awake too but he didn't answer and from his steady breathing I guessed that he was deeply asleep. I then stretched out my hand to caress his body and his cock too. He was still sleeping. I don't know what possessed me. I pulled away the sheets, bent over him and started to cover his chest and belly with kisses. He moaned but didn't move. I looked at his face; he had his beautiful lips slightly parted and with a hint of a smile.
I leant down again to titillate his nipples with the tip of my tongue and they soon hardened. With the corner of my eye I saw his cock throb. I then brought myself to go further down and I licked his beautiful hard cock and gently took it in my mouth and was all on fire for him. I remember that I confusedly thought that even if he did wake up I didn't care at all.
He again lightly moaned and his pelvis moved slightly upwards as if to push it deeper into my mouth. He was probably dreaming... who knows what? Perhaps an erotic dream?
My excitation was at such a level that I felt I was about to come and only just had time to get off him and take my tank top from the chair before I came on it and did not wet everything. Then I got off the bed silently and went to wash myself and put the tank top in the dirty clothes bag and a clean one on the chair and went back to bed. Only then did I realise that my heart was beating madly. Giorgio was still there still wonderfully naked deep in blissful sleep with his cock still straight up and stiff.
I put back the sheet on us and tried to fall asleep again. Will I only ever be able to steal moments of sex with Giorgio? I asked myself while I was falling asleep again.
The last day the program had a lunch in the most famous city restaurant. And the last night came. For a while we chatted in bed commenting on that journey. Then Giorgio spread out an arm making it slip under my shoulders and pulled me to him.
"Come here..." he said.
"What are you doing?" I asked, my heart in my mouth.
He made me put my head on his chest (god how good!) and while his arm kept me tightly against him with the other hand caressed my hair.
"You know, Nicola, that you are my best friend don't you? A very special friend..."
"Yes I know."
"There is something I have to tell all my friends but I want you to be the first one to know about it."
"Wha... what?"
"Well, you see... I... I met a girl. We have been seeing each other for some months. Sometimes when I told you I had to go out to meet a john I was really going to meet her. We are really good together and fit perfectly when screwing... we fell in love and... as soon as I can find a steady job we will get married. Her family likes me too and they just made it a condition that I find a good steady job. Of course they don't know I hustle for a living. I told them I have some part time jobs here and there when I find some. Therefore... we will have to part soon you understand..."
He stopped talking because I had silently started to cry and he felt my tears flow on his chest.
"Nicola! You are crying! I knew that this could pain you, but... but you knew that this was my plan didn't you? I always clearly told you..."
"Yes, that's true..." I admitted but was not able to hold back my tears. I added, "I wish you to be happy, Giorgio."
He caressed me pulled up my face and dried my tears smiling to me, "You really are such a good boy, Nicola." He whispered and bent over to kiss me on the lips.
At first it was just a tender kiss suggested by his affection but it gradually imperceptibly changed into an erotic kiss more and more strongly charged with lust and with our repressed desire. I felt on fire with excitement and therefore tried to pull away from him. To wriggle away gently but he hugged me more strongly against him and kissed me with more vigour.
When I finally managed to free my mouth I said to him heart-broken, "Oh, Giorgio... stop I, please... Can't you feel that you are arousing me like that... and you are making me desire..."
"I too am aroused and desire you. Feel here..." he said wrapping me in his arms and his legs and making me feel all his throbbing erection and feeling mine. He again kissed me with passion and then said, "And I feel that this time I want to make love to you I must do it... like a kind of parting gift. I know that you have desired it for so long ... And I feel I desire it this night with all my heart. Let yourself go Nicola. Let's give each other one last night really together. Every time I remember you I want to remember you like this in my arms because you really are a special friend to me. I'm not asking you to have a fuck I don't want just to relieve myself I want to make love to you properly - to tell each other with the whole of our bodies how important we are to each other."
How could I refuse when I well knew that I dreamed of nothing else but that? At least for one time to feel desired and loved by Giorgio!
And I finally really experienced all the tenderness and all the passion of my Giorgio. It was such a long, intense and sweet a union! He caressed and kissed and cuddled me and he took me and he gave himself to me! He did everything to me and let me do everything to him without any limit without any restraint utterly and wholly. He gave me all his tenderness, all his warmth, all his vigour and accepted from me all my passion, all my desire, all my love! He rode me like a wild Stallion and received me with full devotion, And when we finally collapsed worn out but sated we fell asleep hugging and kissing each other.
The morning after he woke me up almost at noon by kissing me. "Wasn't that great Nicola wasn't it?"
"You are sure it wasn't just a dream?" I asked feeling as light as a feather.
"No, it was a wonderful night that I will never forget. I will never forget it Nicola."
"Nor will I... You know I love you."
"Yes I know. And I'm sorry I am not able to be in love with one of my own sex - you would be the most worthy of it believe me. I think that no man could ever be for me what you are. I owed you such a night of love before we parted."
"Did you do it just for me? Like a... a farewell gift?"
"No, I did it for myself too. I desired you all along too - ever since we have known each other. But I knew that for you it was love and I couldn't return it to you and so at least physically I had to keep my distance. So it was a mutual farewell gift."
Having had him consenting right at the very moment when I was going to lose him forever! Irony of destiny; sarcasm of life.
++++++++++++++++
Back home he told the others he would soon leave because he was about to get married. Our friends reactions were different but everyone wished him all the best. MemŽ as soon as he could get a word alone with me told me that he could imagine how much pain I felt at Giorgio's decision. I then confided in him the story of our first and last intense night of love.
MemŽ widened his eyes and commented with a funny, "Who can understand these men! Jors tells you he is going to leave you and makes love with you so as never to forget you! But Niki how do you feel?"
"How can I feel? Like a shipwrecked man on a desert island. Still alive thank god but with nothing left to live for."
MemŽ squeezed my hand and nodded and I saw that his eyes were glossy as if he was moved. He was sharing my pain.
I plunged into my work multiplying the dates and devoting myself as I never did before to my johns. But once I was back home while I was sleeping I often woke up and looked at the shadow of my Giorgio sleeping on his bed and I kept on thinking as a refrain "I'm losing you, I'm losing you, I'm losing you..."
After that last night in Venice we never had any more physical contact at home even though Giorgio was more sweet and careful with me than before. I did nothing to try to have a night of love with him again. I was cuddling into my heart and into my memory that unforgettable Venetian night under the canopy on that ancient bed. After all I was grateful to my beloved one for having decided to give me that single last, incredible and wonderful proof of love.
+++++++++++++++
Alberto called me for one of his secret meetings without his wife, and asked me if I could take with me a friend too, because he wanted to try a threesome. So I went to his place with Jimmi. He asked us to fuck him at once at his two ends, one in his mouth and the other in his arse and then to swap places. When Alberto came he started to cry. Jimmi looked at me with an interrogative expression and I signalled him to leave us alone. He understood immediately and said he needed to go to the toilet.
I then embraced Alberto and asked him, "What's up? What's happening?"
"Amongst his tears (he seemed like a child in spite of his thirty years) he said, "I'm more of a fag than you and your friends together... I'm a rotten faggot..."
I said, "It's not a tragedy being gay. Each of us is as he is."
"But I love my wife... and I'm a fag... and..."
"Don't make a tragedy of it. You can go on as you have up to now, can't you?"
"If I had understood it earlier, I would have done better not to marry..."
"But maybe you aren't really gay... you might be bisexual. There are plenty of them you know..."
I gradually managed to calm him down.
When we left his home Jimmi told me, "I was afraid I was going to have to spend the rest of my life in that toilet! What the fuck happened an identity crisis?"
"Yes, more or less."
"I always said that we hustler are really and truly social workers... Well not all of us: amongst us there are also some bastards. But first you have to make them enjoy it then cheer them up too! Unrewarding and hard work!"
"Happily not all our johns are like that." I said with a smile.
"Luckily! Or else we would be in danger of going mad and we would surely end in an asylum... Who knows why people are not able to live with their sexuality more naturally and more simply?!"
CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 6
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