WE ARE PRESUMED TO BE ENEMIES 3
USUAL DISCLAIMER
"WE ARE PRESUMED TO BE ENEMIES" 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.
WE ARE PRESUMED
TO BE ENEMIES
by Andrej Koymasky © 2020
written on August 18th 1994
Translated by the Author
English text kindly revised by Nick
3 - SIMON BECOMES
A HUSTLER
A group of voices awakened him. At first they seemed to come from far away, they were muffled, but then, when he opened his eyes he became aware they came from behind the low wall. The sun was rising up the horizon and warming him. He was about to stand up, when the tone of the voices stopped him. There was something peculiar. He listened. Then he guessed who they could be and an idea warmed his heart. So he stood up and greeted them - five faces turned at once stupefied to look at him, they were men around twenty - thirty years old, and they had weapons.
"You are partisans, isn't it?" Simon asked with a tone filled with hope, in his voice.
"And you, who are you?"
"Canard... I'm coming from Lille's orphanage. I need you, you have to help me..."
"What were you doing back there, were you spying on us?" one of the man asked, making the safety catch of his rifle click open.
"No, I was sleeping... I fled away. My friend Didier, he is a Hebrew. A man living in that house down there, at the gates of the village, the friend of Germans, took him... You have to rescue Didier."
"Duhamel? That pig?"
"I don't know his name. He is around fifty, is a fatty type, with thin moustache... And he is raping Didier."
"It has to be Duhamel. Raping your friend? How old is your friend?"
"He is nineteen. And that man tied him to his bed and buggers him, and wants to keep him his prisoner to continue to bugger him as he likes, and if Didier opposes, he will report him to the Gestapo. You have to rescue him, I beg you." the boy said with an urgent tone, imploring them.
"Yes, he could not be anyone but Duhamel, he always had a penchant for boys that age. He already had two Magistrate investigations before the Nazi came and he became their friend... That fucking pig bastard."
"Will you free my friend, then?" Simon asked, filled with hope.
The men discussed. Some wanted to have Duhamel to pay and in the meanwhile to free the boy he kept prisoner, but others objected they had more essential tasks to carry out, more important, and that they could not jeopardize them just to rescue a boy, even if they regretted that men like Duhamel could continue to carry out his dirty practice with impunity... Not finding an agreement, at the end they decided to go up to the refuge of their chief to make him decide. They told Simon to wait there for them, not to move for any reason. Simon, weeping, prayed them to come back to rescue his friend, and spoke particularly to one of the men who seemed more willing to rescue Didier than the others.
"We will see what can be done, boy, be sure." the man said giving him a caress on his head. He handed him a sandwich and went with the others towards the mountain.
Simon waited. He felt like if time never passed. The sun reached the top of his course and started to lower. The boy was beginning to fear that the men forgot about him, or that decided it was not worth taking the risk to rescue just a nineteen years old boy, a Hebrew... It was almost sunset when Simon heard a sudden rustling and two of the men he met in the morning were in front of him.
"Come with us." said one of them.
"Are we going to rescue Didier?"
"Possibly, but not now. We have eventually to organize ourselves. Our captain wants to meet you. Follow us."
"But when are we going to rescue Didier?"
"Soon, I hope. Now walk and don't breath a word, anything may happen."
They set out, first the man who in the morning gave him the sandwich, then Simon and last the youngest, the one who spoke. They were walking amongst the trees, on an untracked path that the two followed without any hesitation. They did a long detour and the sky was already darkening, when they reached a clearing. There were about twenty men sitting on the ground and eating. One of them stood up when saw the three newcomers. He was the captain, his name was Jacques. He made the boy sit and have something to eat and meanwhile started to question him. He asked Simon question after question, but the most of them had nothing to do with Didier. Simon understood that the man was trying to decide if he could trust the boy or not, he was afraid he could be have sent by the Germans or by the fascists to lure them into a trap.
So Simon said: "Captain Jacques, I understand you cannot know if you can trust me or not. So, then, keep me here as you prisoner, and if something goes wrong, you shoot me. But rescue Didier, please!"
"What is this Didier to you?"
"A friend, the only real friend I have, besides one who is dead when Germans bombed my orphanage."
"Why do you hate Germans?"
"It is not that I hate Germans. I have met not even one of them. I don't understand why they come here to make war to us, they should remain in their homes... But I don't even understand war. One of them killed my Rene, but it is not... I mean, not just one German killed my Rene, but this war. That German did not even know Rene was under there... But I hate that man who tied Didier to bugger him. I saw him from the tree and... Moreover, if you don't believe me, why don't you send one of your men to climb that tree as I did? Do you believe that Didier is my accomplice and that he lets himself be buggered just to cheat on you?"
"Well, you convinced me. We will do so - you will remain with us and one of my men will go to check. If all fits, as soon as possible we will go to free your friend and to disembowel that rotten pig of Duhamel." the captain said. He then asked for a volunteer.
A young man around twenty-five offered himself and he left at once, disappearing in the darkness amongst the trees. The captain continued to ask questions of Simon, who told him everything, also about their pilfering in the houses, keeping silent just about the fact he and Didier made love.
It was deep in the night when the young man was back. He just said three words: "I saw it..." and sat, panting. A mate handed him a wine small flask. He drank, then said: "The boy is cuffed hands and feet, naked, on the first floor, just as this boy said... And Duhamel was on top of him... that rotten bastard pig."
The day after they laid out a plan. Simon helped the men to prepare their food, he washed their mess-tin at the stream, trying so to thank them for what they were preparing to do. He saw them leave as soon as it started to darken. He remained at the camp with five men. He listened to their chatting, keeping silent. But his thoughts followed the men going down in the valley. He would have liked to be with them, but he said to the captain he would remain to the camp as a hostage, so he remained. The men started to sleep in turn, and invited him too to sleep, but he could not, therefore he remained all the night near one of the three men who on turn were on watch.
Why does time, in certain occasion, seem never to pass? If something went wrong, one of these men with whom he was now talking would have killed him. He was not scared by this thought. Rene death had vaccinated him against the fear of death. And this even more if his Didier... He was immersed in these thoughts when the man near him stood up and said: "They are coming back." Simon didn't hear anything, so he looked slightly surprised to the man, but his assured air persuaded him. He pricked up his ear listening, but for a while he heard nothing different from the usual noises of the night and of the wood. Then he heard a creaking, and finally saw emerging from the darkness the first partisans. He stood up searching with his eyes for Didier. And finally he saw him.
He ran headlong towards him, crying in happiness: "Oh, Didier, Didier... Oh Didier, finally..."
"Thank you Simon... I knew you would have done something. You are great, my friend... Thank you, Simon, thank you."
They embraced tightly. Simon felt the warmth of the embrace of his friend, the warmth of his body, his affection.
"I did nothing... they did everything." the boy said in a whisper. Didier dried his tears.
"Duhamel?" one of the men who remained in the camp asked to the other men.
"Eliminated." a man simply answered.
"Problems? Is everybody OK?"
"As smooth as silk. And a suitcase filled with money that the pig had hidden. He wanted to give it to us not to be killed. He was shitting in his pants. He died as a craven, as he lived."
They went to sleep, Didier embraced Simon making him lie against him.
"They see us..." Simon whispered.
"I don't care. We cannot do more than this, but this at least... Let them see. I want to fall asleep in this way, and not just tonight." Didier said tightening his embrace. Simon curled up against him, happy. Didier lightly caressed him under the rug, gave him a kiss, and they fell asleep.
The day after, Didier asked the captain to keep them in their group - he wanted to become a partisan. They were accepted. They moved and arrived at a mountain refuge that seemed an abandoned ruin, but that inside, in the underground, was fully equipped. It was their base. The base of the brigade Voltaire.
In the following days they taught Didier to shoot. Often there came up to the refuge the wives, girlfriends, sisters of the partisans with provisions and news from the valleys. Simon was steady in the kitchen and doing the laundry for the men. They both fitted in well with all the men.
At times, even if rather seldom, Didier and Simon were able to withdraw and to make love. But for sure not every day like before. To Simon this was somewhat sad, but he never said a word.
Then, Simon noticed that, each time that the sister of one of the partisans arrived, a girl eighteen year old, Didier was spending more and more time to talk with her. And he also noticed that she was coming to bring provisions more often than usual.
"Didier?"
"Yes?"
"You like Martine, isn't it?"
"Well, yes... and I think she likes me." Didier answered with a hint of embarrassment in his voice.
"Would you like to be with her? Maybe to marry her?" the boy asked quietly.
"I... I like you always very much, Simon..."
"Yes, but you cannot marry me. With her, you can."
"It is not said that..."
"I think she likes you a lot, she looks at you in a way... Why don't you tell her you like her?"
"But... and you?" Didier asked, torn.
"I... will be glad for you."
"Really? Wouldn't you feel bad? Even just a little? After all you did for me? I owe you so much, I don't forget that."
"But you like her, therefore... Don't play the hero, Didier. Follow your way. You like girls, I have been just a phase. Talk to her."
"You are exceptional. How can you be so special? In your place, I don't know if I would have been able..."
"I think yes."
"And if she says yes... you."
"I will be glad for you. And I will go back to the valley. After all, it is not that I like so much this hermit's life."
"I will regret not to see you any more."
"But if I remained here... you would feel ill at ease to flirt with her having me around, isn't it so?"
Didier talked to Martine. She was happy and answered she was in love with him. So Didier talked with Martine's brother telling him he was in love with his sister. The man gave his assent to them to flirt. So Simon bade farewell to everybody and went back to the valley. Captain Jacques gave him some addresses of people who could help him, perhaps find him a job.
Master Michel, when he introduced himself to him telling he was sent by "Father Jacques", as the captain instructed him, asked Simon what he could do for him.
"Help me to find a job, so that I can earn my food..." the boy answered.
"What are you able to do, boy?" the man asked.
"Nothing..."
"That's much too little... What did you do to now?" the man asked with an encouraging smile.
Simon explained him how he fled from his orphanage and gave him a rough outline of his life thereafter.
"How old are you, boy?"
"Fifteen, sir."
"I thought a couple more... Bah, for the moment you can stay with me to clean my coffee shop and to serve. But, be careful, when they come, have the utmost kindness with the krauts, as if they were our best and most welcomed customers. To sleep you can go in the deposit at the side gate of the courtyard, I will bring there a folding bed. Then... we will see. Is that OK?"
"Yes, sir, thank you sir."
"Good. And I have to find you more decent clothes. Possibly those of my sons when they were younger can fit you. My wife must have kept them in some trunk."
Simon started so to work in the coffee shop of master Michel. At first he just swept the floor, washed the glasses, cleaned the tables, washed cups and glasses behind the counter. Then he also started to serve at the tables when there was crowd, like after the Sunday mass. At evening often came groups of German soldiers. Simon missed his Didier. He didn't miss just his body, his beautiful circumcised member, his intimate caresses and kisses, but also his half moon smile with his eyes half closed, his sense of humour, his embraces when they were falling asleep, his eyes filled with desire even when they were with others...
There was a couple of youths of the village who came often to the coffee shop, and even a couple of German soldiers, that he liked, but not the first, nor the latter, never made him understand if they desired him. And nobody else, to tell the truth. So, late at night, when he lay on his folding bed, Simon contented himself to masturbate and to daydream his beautiful Didier.
After about three months, he became tired of that life and told master Michel he wanted to move into town. The man gave him some clothes, a bag of food, money, and the address of an acquaintance in town. Simon left early in the morning.
In town he looked for the address master Michel gave him, but he just found the ruins of a burned house. Nobody of the neighbours knew where the owner was. Simon toured the town. He went in several shops asking if they needed a boy, but the answers were always negative. He slept in the open, taking shelter amongst the ruins of houses, to avoid the night rounds of the German patrols or of the French police. He finished both his money and his food, so he decided to start begging. He was ashamed but he had no other means to survive. He was not skilled like Didier to pilfer, just the thought to really do it, frightened him.
For three or four days he survived in this way when one evening, a man around thirty years old, wiry, with a pair of big glasses, stopped on the opposite side of the street to look at him. Then he went away, but he was back soon after, this time passing on his side, and staring at him while passing in front of him. Simon held out his hand and asked for alms. The man put his hand in his pocket like if he wanted give him some coins, but went past on, continuing to look at him from the corner of his eyes.
Then he went back, stopped in front of him and said: "Would you like to earn this money, boy?" and, pulled out from his pocket his hand that held some notes, slightly waving them.
"Sure..." Simon said, as that money would have really helped him.
"Come with me, then."
"Where?"
"At my place."
"Do you have a job for me?" Simon asked moving away from the wall where he was leaning.
"Not exactly. You would have just... to be kind to me tonight. Do you understand?"
"Kind?" Simon asked without understanding.
"Yes, I like boys like you. If you come with me, we can... amuse ourselves."
Simon understood: "All right. I'll came, then." he simply said.
The man had a light pleased smile: "How old are you?" he asked on the way.
"How old do you think?" Simon cautiously asked.
"Seventeen?" the man tried.
"Strike!" Simon lied.
The man made him enter in a small gate then, while going upstairs, fingered his ass. Made him enter in his apartment and guided him to his bedroom. "Undress and get on the bed. I'll be back soon." said and left him alone. Simon obeyed. The man was back in a few minutes - he was wearing just a towel around his hips, as if he just took a bath, but he for sure had not the time to do it. He had a skinny body, a little hairy. He was rather funny, half naked, with those imposing glasses on his nose.
He went near the bed and looked at the boy's body, up and down. "Do you feel like sucking my prick?" he lustfully asked.
"Sure." Simon said, asking himself what was hidden under the man's towel.
He pulled it out - a kind of long, soft sausage, rather thin, hanging under a thicket of curly black hairs. "Go on, then, make it become hard." the man said kneeling on the bed and guiding Simon's head to his groin. While the boy skilfully sucked the rod that was little by little hardening, the man asked: "Do you also take it in your arse?"
"Yes..." Simon answered.
"Good. But now continue to suck it. You are skilled. It's long you do your job?"
"What job?" Simon asked, thinking that the man was a little odd.
"Having sex for money. Normally boys hustle on the garden behind the cathedral, not where you were."
"I come from another place."
"Suck, go on... make it really hard, so I can push it all into your arse... go on, I want to fuck you."
Simon obeyed. Keeping it with his hand around his root, the rod almost touched his throat. It must have been at least 10 inches, but it was not thick. He sucked and licked for a long while, until the man had him on all fours. He slipped inside the boy with a set of strong thrusts then started to hammer into him, rolling his pelvis so that his rod brushed against all the wall of the boy's channel.
"Oh, what a good arse, my boy! Not too wide, not too tight, really how I like them!"
The man took him for a long while, evidently enjoying his long and strong ride. And finally spurted his load inside the boy. Simon didn't dislike it, nor even really like it. Better than nothing, above all thinking to the money the man will give him.
He was about to get out of the bed and dress, when the man said: "Why don't you stop to sleep here with me? You don't have a place, right?"
"Yes I have." Simon lied, then added: "If you want me to stop, you have to give me double."
"All right. But then tomorrow morning I'll fuck you again." the man answered, his eyes excited.
They lay to sleep, and the man asked Simon to caress his body while waiting to sleep. Simon did it, almost mechanically, until he fell asleep.
On the morning he was waken up by the rod of the man rummaging inside the fold between his buttocks, trying to find his hole. Simon guided it on the right spot and the man took him again, leaning on him and rocking on top of him. He rode the boy for a long while, this time also, he seemed never to come. But finally he unloaded inside the boy with low and short moans.
While they were dressing, the man, his eyes still glassy with lust, said: "You are really a nice arse, boy!"
He said "are" and not "have" and that annoyed Simon. That recalled to him some of the elder boys in the orphanage that he disliked for that reason. Thinking to make a compliment, they really debased you.
Finally dressed, the man saw him to the door. Here he pulled out the money, put it in the boy's hand and pushed him out: "If you are still there, at times, I'll came again to hire you for a good fuck. Ah, what did you say your name is?"
"I didn't tell you..." Simon answered going down the stairs two at a time. He left the house and, reached the street, he breathed at full lungs, happy to be far from that man.
Even if he didn't like him, he earned some money and a precious information, or better two - how he could earn money, and where he had to go to sell his body to people craving for sex. Behind the cathedral, in the garden, he said. He immediately looked for the place. Turning around the ancient, imposing cathedral, at its back he found a rather wide garden. He explored it wide and far but didn't see any boys. Did the guy lie to him? Did he just pull his leg? Anyway he paid him...
The thought that somebody could pay another to have sex, seemed to him rather weird. Then he thought that possibly there were types, like that man, with whom nobody would like to go, if it was not for money. Yes, it had to be exactly so.
He went to buy a French loaf, cheese and salami and prepared a big sandwich that he ate with real pleasure. Then he loitered downtown. At evening he saw a small restaurant, on whose window was written they offered the dish of the day and a glass of wine, for a reasonable price. He decided he could allow himself a decent meal. Entered and was served. He savoured the good food slowly, sipping his wine little by little. It was really pleasurable, he felt like a lord.
While he was going out, he crossed three German soldiers who were going in.
One of them badly bumped into him and, instead of apologizing, said in an awful French: "Ask apology, boy!"
He, on impulse, answered: "You have rather to apologize!"
The soldier grasped his collar almost rising him from the floor and asked in a hiss: "What say, you?"
"You bumped on me, not I!" the boy answered, not at all frightened.
The soldier raised his other hand like to give him a backhander, but one of his comrades blocked his arm in mid air and said him sharply something in German. The two looked at each other with hard eyes, then the first soldier burst in laughter, a nasty laughter, and let Simon go, going to sit to a table. Simon, still near the door, tidied his clothes with calm and went out looking serious at the other two soldiers. The one who stopped his comrade made him a light smile and winked at him. Simon brightened up - for sure, there was good and bad in everybody, and Germans were not different from the others, for that. Even if they were the "enemy".
He went back to the cathedral and went round it to the garden. Now, he noticed, there were some boys more or less of his age. Each of them was leaning against a tree, with slothful air, looking at their feet. A couple of boys he saw smoking a cigarette. Just one or two of them, when he passed, looked fleetingly at him, to then lower again their eyes. There was a strange atmosphere.
Simon decided to stay and see. Found a free tree, he leaned against it and started to wait. He had seen seven or eight boys. Who knows how many there could be in the wide garden? It was almost dark; the light of the lamps of the back of the cathedral almost didn't reach to there. After a while his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Simon looked towards the other threes where other boys were leaning. He thought he would have liked to talk with some of them, but they didn't even talk between themselves, so...
He saw a man arrive. This one passed near a couple of trees with their guests, then stopped in front of one. He saw them talk a few seconds, then go away together towards the street. A few minutes later a second man came. This one toured longer, passing also in front of him. When he was near, Simon looked at him amazed - he was a handsome man, not yet thirty years old, one who couldn't have difficulty to find somebody wanting to go to bed with him, and yet he was looking for a boy to pay. His theory was wrecked. He saw that man making a second tour, then approaching a boy, talk in a low voice, then withdraw amongst the bushes - evidently that man didn't have a house where to bring the boy he chose, or perhaps he was not alone in his house.
Then he saw two German soldiers, who went straight to a tree. The boy leaning against it went towards them immediately and they too went amongst the bushed. They had to be usual customers - they did not even say a word. And that boy did it with both, who knows if both together or one after the other? And who knows why those two soldiers, if they both liked it, didn't do it together and instead paid a boy? Possibly both liked to fuck an arse... Who knows how was the cock of a German?
While he was thinking to those things, another man came. He toured amongst the trees and passed in front of him, looking at him. He was a man around thirty-five, his hair cut very short, tall and a little stocky, his nose a little twisted, but not bad, all together.
"Are you a new one?" he asked, looking him from head to toe.
"Yes."
"Would you come with me?" he asked after he fingered between Simon's legs to test the consistency of the boy's endowment.
"Yes."
"Same price than the others, isn't it?"
"Yes." Simon said asking himself how much did the others charge.
"Good. Let's go, then." the man said going at a fast pace towards the street.
Simon followed him. The man was living at the ground floor, in a room filled with framed pictures, from which Simon understood the man was a boxer. In a corner of the room there was a bed. The man, without saying a word, started to undress and Simon followed suit, looking at him. The man had a well-proportioned body, muscled, firm and strong, and a semi-erect member of remarkable size.
When they were naked, the man went near him and held him tight against his chest, strongly. Simon liked that hold and fantasized being penetrated by a strong and vigorous male like that.
The man brought him to his bed, lay down making Simon stay on top of him, upside down. Simon started to lick and suck the powerful member and had to stretch his mouth to be able to contain it. Also the man started sucking Simon's hard member and brushed the boy's nipples. Simon throbbed with pleasure - he didn't know that that point could be so sensitive and give pleasure.
Then, with his great amazement, the man went on all fours and said with excited voice: "Go on, fuck me, now!"
Simon for a while looked at the man puzzled. The boxer turned his head and urged him: "Well, what are you waiting for? Bugger me, go on!"
Simon got ready to undertake his job. As soon as he pushed his member on the man's hole, he sank inside to the hilt. Then started to slip out and in.
"Stronger, harder!" the man ordered. Simon accelerated his rhythm giving big strokes. "Harder, come on, let me really feel it!" the man said waving his hips. Simon did his best and, at each thrust, rocked his hips. His thighs were bouncing against the man's buttocks with strong, sharp strokes, and with a slapping sound. The man seemed now to appreciate the boy's strokes: "So, hard, go on... make it come out from my mouth..." he moaned satisfied. Simon had to do a real effort not to burst laughing at the idea that his member could peep out from the man's mouth. But continued to hammer inside the man with all his strength. Soon he started to sweat with the effort. That was for sure not making love, he thought, but a solemn fuck, and the man seemed to appreciate it. Meanwhile the man was masturbating himself and moaned: "Sooo.... yes, soooo..."
Simon cummed strongly inside the man who was happily wiggling, and who almost at once cummed too. Then he withdrew from Simon and lay down, making the boy lie near him.
"A really good fuck, boy, compliments." he said pleased.
After relaxing a while in silence, they dressed. The man paid Simon and the boy went back to the garden, hoping to possibly find another client and also, possibly, to be allowed to spend the night in his bed.
There were still some boys leaning against the trees, so he too chose one and started to wait. If every night he could earn all that money, he could live a good life, he thought.
CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 4
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