THE MOST DIFFICULT CONTEST by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2008 written on December 2, 1993 translated by the author English text kindly revised by Acam
USUAL DISCLAIMER
"THE MOST DIFFICULT CONTEST" 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 4 - A revelation
Back in Paris, Jean Paul and Claude went on meeting. After training, instead of taking his friend straight home as he used to do, Claude used to take him to his own house, and there they withdrew into a small room under the eaves of the mansion where, every other day, they made love. They soon got used to doing that.
Normally at that time of the day only the service staff were at home and the two friends went up there unseen and quietly so they could have sex at their ease. The small room had been built in a part of the attic that in Claude's grandfather's time had been reserved for servants. His father had reorganised the servants' quarters when there were fewer of them, onto the third floor, so that now the small rooms in the attic were used for storage of old family things. But in that little room there was still an old tall wooden bed with a mattress on which Claude had spread a sheet in order not to become dirty with the dust.
To be safer even though nobody usually went up there the two friends locked themselves in shutting the door with the key. Like the other rooms, that one had a dormer-window. As the weather was now fine and hot they always opened it. Thus the two boys, while they were making love on the wide bed that was just under the window could also enjoy the view of the roofs of downtown Paris - and often a gentle breeze caressed their bodies so that they almost had the feeling of doing it in the open air.
Sometimes as they were going down the service stairway they could hear Claude's two younger brothers who had come back home meanwhile. Nobody ever saw them using the narrow stairway that connected the attic rooms with the kitchens and the garden. They went on meeting in secret like that almost up to the day when they had to leave for the championships.
But one afternoon Claude's father instead of going to the family bank as he used to do every working day, had decided to stay home in his study to sort out some family documents and papers. In fact it would soon be the centenary of the foundation of the Berthier Bank, and Jacques Berthier, Claude's father, had in mind to publish a commemorative book. He had already gathered a good deal of material - pictures, documents, letters and so on when late that afternoon he remembered that in the attics there should be a big box with more documents and souvenirs regarding the bank. And so he went upstairs to look for that box.
He found it in the room just next to the room with the bed. He went in opened the dormer-window to improve the light and dispel the smell of dust and quietly started to check the contents - the pictures and the souvenirs one by one putting aside those that could be useful for the book he had in mind. He was doing this selection when he heard two voices. He recognized Claude and was about to reveal himself and call him when something stopped him and made him curious - the two were talking in whispers. So he stayed quiet trying to understand what was going on and who the other voice could be.
He couldn't understand what they were saying because they were speaking too quietly. What the hell was his son up to? Why had he taken somebody up there? He then heard them going into the next room and locking the door with the key. This aroused his suspicions. He thought for a moment and then a worry flashed into his mind - if he was acting so furtively his Claude... had to be taking drugs! Sometimes athletes resorted to drugs in the hope of better performance. At first he thought he would go into the corridor and knock at the door, but then he thought that Claude might have time to hide the drugs as soon as he heard him and then deny everything. No...
From the open window came the noise of a low laughter. Yes he could possibly catch him by using the window... the eaves were wide enough. He could easily climb through and go along the eaves ... In spite of his salt and pepper hair he was still a nimble man in good shape.
Without making any noise, Jacques Berthier climbed out of the dormer-window onto the eaves and cautiously moved until he was in front of the window of the other room peeped inside and... he saw the two naked bodies, lying on the old bed, enlaced in a sixty-nine!
Jean Paul was the first to see the man and, hurriedly parting from his companion moaned a choked, "Oh my god!"
Claude stupefied by his friend's distressed tone let go of his prick and seeing his father standing just out of the window went pale and murmured "Dad!"...
The man said "Oh, Claude I didn't think..." and disappeared.
The two young men were embarrassed and scared.
"Your Dad? Now what?" asked Jean Paul in a whisper as white as death.
"Let's get dressed..." Claude was trembling.
They heard the man's steps in the corridor going towards the stairway.
"What can we do, now?" Jean Paul asked worriedly.
"I'll take you home and then... then I'll face my Dad..."
"No it might be better if I go by myself. I can take the underground..."
"No, no, I'll take you back home... so I'll have the time to think about what to tell him."
"What can you tell him? He clearly saw what we were doing. My god! If he tells Robert we both are done... both of us... and just at the eve of the championship..."
"I might be able to persuade him to tell nobody..."
"But if he's waiting for us on the stairway?"
"I don't think so. If he wanted to confront both of us together he would just be outside the door. I bet he went to his study. But why was he at home?"
"Could he have suspected something?"
"No way, and how? Well, let's go downstairs now. I'll see you home."
"Will you call me later?"
"If I can..."
"Tomorrow morning... I don't know whether to show up at training."
"I don't know either. I'll try to call you this evening if I can."
They went down in silence and met nobody. They got to the street, to Claude's car without problems. All along the way they discussed what they had to do. The only hope they had was that Claude's father didn't report them to their coach.
"He could chase you from your house..." Jean Paul said.
"If he did that... I would find way of carrying on." Claude answered.
"Go on? Go on with what?"
"To do athletics. But I don't know. Dad is friends with Robert and he might tell him... I only hope he will agree to tell him after the championship."
"It would be better than nothing..." Jean Paul admitted dejectedly.
Claude left his friend in front of his lodgings and went back at once. He put the car in the garage and went upstairs to his father's study. He took a deep breath then knocked at the door.
"Come in!" his father's voice said from inside.
Claude opened the door a bit and peeped inside, "It's me, Dad... Can I come in?"
"Yes, of course. I have been waiting for you for some time."
"I took... my friend home, Dad."
"I see. Take a seat."
"Dad, I... I don't know what to say..." Claude murmured lowering his eyes in confusion, and feeling he didn't have the strength to tackle the subject.
"Who was that boy with you? Wasn't he Jean Paul?"
"Yes, Dad that's who it was."
"How long have you been doing... that?"
"Since the spring camp. It was my Idea and ... I convinced him. It's not his fault, Dad."
"Very noble on your side to protect him. But neither of you is a child any more. I presume he is consenting at least as much as you are isn't he?"
"Well... yes, Dad..."
The fact that Claude unconsciously inserted the word "Dad" in each of his sentences was almost a way to affirm that in spite of everything, they still were a father and a son, bound by reciprocal love...
"Well. They are things that happen son." the man said with a sigh but with a serene expression.
Claude raised his eyes and looked at his father, astounded.
For the first time the man smiled "Of course, Claude, they are things that happen. You see I have been through the same experiences... two boys become close friends, they share everything... and they end by sharing some sexual games too."
"You mean that... that you don't condemn me Dad?" Claude asked in a hesitant tone.
"Condemn you? Not at all; how could I?"
"You, Dad... aren't you upset with me because you discovered I'm gay?"
"Gay? No, my son. Just mutually enjoying pleasure between two friends even two close friends doesn't mean you are gay at all. It may just be an interlude which is destined to end as simply as it began."
"I'm afraid it is not so Dad. I... I like doing it."
"Of course you enjoy it or else you wouldn't do it. But you will see sooner or later you will meet a girl that will make you change your mind. Exactly as it happened to me." the man quietly said.
Claude widened his eyes even more, "To you, Dad? You means that you too..."
"Yes Claude. Robert and I - me and your coach. Exactly like you and Jean Paul. And you see that both Robert and I are now happily married and have beautiful families. Neither he nor I is gay. So don't put weird thoughts into your head and don't worry. Sooner or later you will stop. It is natural, don't worry."
"You really mean that... that you and Robert... were lovers?"
"No, not lovers. We just were amusing ourselves with each other and that way we were lessening our sexual tensions in friendship. Very close friends - not lovers. If I had guessed it was only that that you were doing I would not have disturbed you..."
"Just that? Why, what else did you think we were doing?"
"I was afraid you were... doing drugs."
"Doping? Heaven forbid! I don't want to harm myself!"
"You know I was afraid it was a burden for you not be first any more - no longer the best in the team, and that in order to improve your performance... Unhappily these things happened and still happen."
"Surely not I Dad."
"Well that is what is important."
"Dad... you won't report us to Robert then... about Jean Paul and I?"
"Of course not; why should I? It's something that is nobody's business but yours."
"And... may I meet again with Jean Paul?"
"Of course! But remember - no more than twice per week! This is the golden rule. I presume that Robert told you so didn't he?" Jacques said with a smile.
Claude smiled and nodded "Dad thank you... We got so scared..."
"Just be careful not to let the others realise what's going on; be very discreet. Even though everybody knows very well that this sort of thing happens... the sports milieu is rather odd - almost anomalous. Unhappily there is a lot of hypocrisy in this world and much more in the sports world."
"Dad I have to call Jean Paul to reassure him."
"Was he scared?"
"Even more than I was Dad. He was afraid he could be expelled from the team before the championship."
"Is he good enough to win some medals?"
"Oh, yes! Robert says that ninety-nine per cent the gold will be his."
"Good, then tell him to do his best. And you two... don't overdo it!" Jacques said giving the hand to his son and vigorously shaking it.
"Thank you Dad."
"Anyway using the attic is a good idea." his father told him, winking his eye while Claude was standing up to leave.
Claude immediately went to his room, picked up the telephone and called Jean Paul.
The boy at once answered "Claude! Well then?"
"It's all alright. No dangers!"
"Really? What did he say?"
"I'll tell you when we meet. Anyway he will tell nobody not even Robert and he's not upset with us."
"He's not upset?"
"Not at all. Therefore you can sleep without worries tonight. Tomorrow morning I'll come to fetch you earlier, so I can tell you everything. And I have to give you a bit of news that I'm sure will give you great pleasure."
"Pleasure? What about?"
"Tomorrow, I'll tell you tomorrow morning, my friend."
"I can't imagine..."
"No you couldn't possibly guess. See you tomorrow Jean Paul."
"See you tomorrow. Thank you for calling me. I got such a terrible headache and stomach-ache..."
"Make them pass my friend! And tomorrow... I'll tell you all the rest. Have a good night."
"Good night."
Jean Paul went back to his room feeling relieved and threw himself on the bed trying to relax. Well then Claude's father was not upset with them and would tell nobody! He evidently was a really open-minded, modern person. In spite of that when you looked at him he really gave the impression of being a conservative middle-class man... At times one can be totally wrong in judging people. For sure when he saw the man at the window while he had his son's prick in his mouth he felt like dying - it had been the most horrible moment of his whole life!
He gradually relaxed and when he was called to supper he went to eat feeling rather calmed down. He asked himself what could be the surprise that Claude had hinted at and that he would not even be able to guess...
He thought again about that also when he went to bed but in spite of all his efforts he couldn't think of anything possible - certainly not anything likely that could give him "great pleasure" as Claude had told him.
The following morning he went out to the street to wait for his friend. In a few minutes he saw his car. He got in. Claude was smiling and relaxed.
"Well then?" Jean Paul asked him while he was restarting the car.
"Dad apologised for having interrupted us."
"Apologised? Are you joking?"
"No not at all. He said that if he had guessed that you and I were just making love he would not have disturbed us."
"Come on!"
"He said it's just normal that two friends relieve each other and particularly two athletes. And that between athletes who are close friends it always happened."
"He said so?"
"Sure. And he added that in his time he did it too."
"He confessed that?"
"Very quietly... And guess who was the friend with whom he was doing it?"
"Who?"
"Your beautiful Robert!"
Jean Paul was agape, "You mean that... that your Dad and Robert... that they made love together? Exactly as we are doing? I now understand why five years ago Robert tried to defend that athlete... So Robert is gay too?"
"Dad says he isn't. Both he and Robert when they met the right woman just reoriented to the right side..."
"But I'm gay."
"I am too. But maybe Dad is right as far as it concerns them."
"Yes it could be so. But I really would never have guessed that Robert... But if instead Robert was gay and he married just... out of duty?"
"Who knows? How can we know? You cannot just ask him can you?"
"Of course I cant. But just think if he too was gay..."
"Don't start to dream now! Oh, and Dad also told me we can go on using the attic for our meetings. I thought that it would be even safer if we locked the door of the corridor opening on the service stairway as well."
"Good heavens! It gives me a weird feeling knowing that your Dad knows about us two and that this is OK with him..."
"Bah. He is sure we will change as he Robert did."
"Claude... yesterday evening we didn't finish. Do you think we can do it this evening?"
"Of course we can. I really want to finish what we started yesterday too..."
That day Jean Paul watched Robert carefully trying to divine whether their coach could be gay or not. Now that he knew about Robert's youthful escapade with Claude's father he looked at him with different eyes. He felt that he was nearer and more accessible somehow or other. But he certainly could not tell just by observing him whether the man might be gay or not. And above all he told himself he must not allow his desire to deceive him about the truth.
Finally the day of their departure for the European Athletics Championship came. The French National Team left by a special flight from Charles De Gaulle airport. At their departure there were reporters, television, journalists, and interviews. At their arrival more reporters, television, journalists and interviews. The buses provided by the organisers of the Championship loaded them all and took them to the residence assigned to them. They were in a university dorm rearranged for the occasion. The room they got had been projected for just one bed, therefore they were somewhat cramped with two. There was barely space to turn around.
Their matches would be on the second and third days before the end of the competition and so in the days before then they spent some of their time looking at other competitions, some doing some gentle training and some visiting the city. Claude was better known than Jean Paul because he was France's champion so sometimes he was asked for an interview and sometimes for autographs and Claude didn't miss a chance to tell the reporters to keep an eye on Jean Paul who he explained would be the discovery of these games.
At evening, back in their little room they made love every night. They had decided to stop just two days before their events so as to be in perfect shape and not to run risks.
They fraternized with the athletes of other nations and swapped badges and addresses. They were photographed while they were touring the city or during their training. For Jean Paul these were his first championships abroad and he was feeling excited and happy. Claude instead was quieter - he had taken part in the previous European Championships and got the bronze medal. And then there would be the Olympic games, the dream of every athlete.
France had never won the gold medal for the decathlon at the Olympics so far and Robert said that if Jean Paul could get the gold on this occasion he would have a serious claim on the Olympic gold. Robert was counting on it. And now Jean Paul was at least as keen as him not for himself but for Robert's sake. Jean Paul didn't care about showing he was the best. But if Robert wanted that gold he would do his best to give the man that satisfaction.
Finally the first of the two days of the decathlon contest came. Jean Paul in one event after another attracted the attention of all the mass media and of the spectators, of experts and of laymen. He won the 100 meters then the 400 meters too and the 1500 meters. He was first at 100 meters hurdles (and by a good margin over the athlete who was second). He broke the European record in the high jump and he won the long jump though it was only just by a hair's breadth. He also won the pole vault. Everybody was shouting at the miracle. He won the discus throwing, was second at putting the shot and then won the javelin. And so he got the gold. It was a real triumph. His picture was in all the newspapers and they called him "a complete athlete", and "Possibly the best of the century".
Jean Paul discovered the thrill of glory. He got plenty of congratulatory telegrams one was even from the President of the French Republic. Even his adversaries asked him for autographs.
When they got back to France, they were met with a triumphal welcome. In the newspapers there were box titles - "The greatest of Poitiers' boys" "Jean Paul, the glory of France", "An easy victory" and so on.
When he went back home to Poitiers the town had prepared a welcome worthy of a hero for him, and the Mayor gave him the keys of the town. His father and mother had bought new clothes for the occasion. And when they got home they had to face a procession of relatives, friends, neighbours and unknown people...
Jean Paul was dazed by it all. It was not in his nature to be the subject of everybody's attention like that.
When he finally got to go back to Paris he put the gold medal in its little box lined with blue velvet and went to meet Robert.
"Well Jean Paul how do you feel now you are a champion?" Robert asked him welcoming him and giving him a chair in his office.
"Dazed and confused."
"And happy?"
"Yes, for you Robert. This victory belongs to you."
"To me? No my boy it's entirely yours. It's you that had the right stuff to be a champion. I just made it come out. It's entirely your merit Jean Paul believe me."
"No, Robert. I won this victory only for you."
"For me?"
"Yes for you. For me it would have been enough just to participate. I won it for you therefore this medal is yours. Keep it please."
"Come on - what are you saying? They put the medal round your neck."
"And now I want to put it round your neck."
"I thank you my boy. You're really kind but I cannot accept it."
"You must accept it! Please..."
"I can't see why..."
"Accept it Robert... please..." Jean Paul gently insisted and he took the medal out of its little box, unrolled its ribbon and put it round Robert's neck.
The man was moved and asked "But why?"
"Because... because I... I love you Robert. I'm in love with you!"
CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 5
In my home page I've put some more of my stories. If someone wants to read them, the URL is
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If you want to send me feed-back, or desire to help revising my English translations, so that I can put on-line more of my stories in English please e-mail at
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