Date: Tue, 22 Nov 2005 16:06:48 +0100
From: A.K. <andrej@andrejkoymasky.com>
Subject: Alain's Diary - 10/14 (adult-youth)

----------------------------

ALAIN'S DIARY
by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2005
written on October 8th, 1990
translated by the author
English text kindly revised
by Dave

-----------------------------

USUAL DISCLAIMER

"ALAIN'S DIARY" 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.

-----------------------------

Part 10


28th of August 1973, Tuesday

This morning I was as much confused as yesterday night. Anyway I went to
the mine and upstairs to the offices. As soon as I arrived, the
battle-axe said, "Mister Boisselet ain't yet arrived, but yesterday he
told me he was waiting for you. Sit down there." I sat down. She worked
for a while, then raised her head and said, "How long have you known the
master's son?" and I said, "Since I was attending school." "Then, why
didn't you ask from the beginning to work in the offices?" I replied,
"Because after my father was dead, I was offered to take his place down
in the galleries, not to work here in the offices." "Thus, it's little
thanks to me if you now work here." she says and continues doing her
business. I waited almost one hour and tried to think what I have to
tell Jac. But my thoughts are still confused.

Then he arrives. As soon as he sees me he opens in a wide smile and
says, "Come." and we go to his office. He asks me to sit down and he
sits behind his desk. Then he says, "Alain, I don't want to lose you
again." I stay silent but I hear inside me a voice yelling, me neither I
don't want to lose you again, Jacques. But I say nothing. Then he says,
"You'll work for me, and with me, as my personal secretary; I thought
about that, in all these hours. Therefore, when we end our work here in
the office, you'll come to St. Etienne with me to do more work at my
place, where we can be without worries." "Yes, but your father, your
family? Will they not think strange such an accommodation? And with your
family around, anyway, what can we do?" and he, "I thought also to this.
I'll rent a pied-ˆ-terre for you. When we leave here, we can go there
and later to my home for more work, if it's needed."

I don't know it seems to me that everything is way too simple to him,
that he doesn't have his feet on earth. Possibly because he is rich and
to rich people everything seems easy. I say, "But I live here in this
village, not in St. Etienne. And I need to be back home; my family needs
me, above all the children, now that our dad is dead." He thinks for a
while, and then says, "Do you have a driving license?" "A driving
license? No." Then he, "well, you'll get it. I'll give you a car so that
you can move without problems. I don't want to take you away from your
family. I understand you care for them." "But I never worked as a
secretary. What do I know of that? Who ever typed a letter or such
things? You dream way too much, to you everything seems easy, just
speaking of it." I say, feeling in despair.

He, with an accent so passionate that made me shudder, says, "If we want
it, Alain, you and I, everything can be easy. If we don't want it, then
yes, everything becomes difficult, impossible. I want it with all my
heart, with all my soul, with all of me. But you?" I didn't answer. He
then said, "you don't want to make love with me any more?" I look in his
eyes and feel I'm near to crying so much I feel ill, and say, "I would
like doing it now, here, on your desk, if it was just possible. I would
like doing it every day, and even several times each day. I didn't dream
but this for all these months, even though I knew, I believed at that
point that it was impossible. I dreamed of you day and night, even while
I was working down in the mine."

He smiles and says, "Here on my desk, it's possibly better not to do it.
Just guess if Madame Rochat or my father came in. And it would be
suspect to close the door with the key. But I too would have loved doing
it right now. I like you a lot, don't you know?" "But what can you find
in one like me? You never told me. One like you can have all the boys he
wants. Why me?" He looks at me and says, "I had many boys before you. A
lot, yes. But you are the best. You are special. You don't act, you're
spontaneous, you're not selfish, you... You make love in the right way,
with truth, simplicity and passion, you..." and he continued so to tell
me why he likes me so much. Well, in the one hand I was pleased to hear
all these things, but on the other hand I also felt embarrassed. So I
said, "and what, if you are wrong? You don't yet really know me; we met
just a few times." And he immediately said, "No, I really don't think I
can be wrong. Anyway I'm just asking you to know each other more deeply.
We can at least try, can't we?"

I remain silent for a short while and inside my head the usual voice
says: yes, yes, yes... and then I say, "possibly... yes, we can try,
and... I hope to never disappoint you, Jac..." He smiles, stretches an
arm through his desk and takes my hand and I feel shivers from my hair
to my feet, up and down, as I feel like having the tertian fever. He
looks into my eyes and I feel lost, I'm being drawn into his eyes, I'm
falling headlong into the void, and feel like being in paradise... And
he says in a low voice, "I too hope to never disappoint you, Alain."

I then say to him, "but before to decide we can try, I need to tell you
something. Something... important, then you can tell me if you still
want to try with me. You waited for me and didn't go with any other boy,
but it ain't so for me. I, in all these months, went with other men,
many other, and..." he interrupts me and asks me with a sweet voice,
"but now, do you want to be mine and only mine?" "Yes, sure, now nobody
else can appeal to me, but you have to know..." he again interrupts me
and says, "That's enough for me. I need only this." Then he leaves my
hand, makes a kind of short sigh, and with a clear, but still gentle
voice, says, "Well, Alain, shall we start to work?" "Yes..."

So we open the boxes with his papers and his personal belongings and I
help him to set everything, while he explains me all I need to know. I
listen to him, try to remember, to learn, but every time he just brushes
against me, my head swirls like a spinning top and I understand nothing
more. Around the end of the morning the battle-axe calls me and shows me
a bunch of papers to read and to sign, and shows me with her finger here
and there and again I have to sign other papers and a new contract and
at least all is over.

Then it is time for the lunch break and he doesn't want me to eat what I
have in my mess-tin, and neither that I go to the clerks mess, but makes
me go in his car and takes me to a restaurant he knows. It ain't the old
Simca but an elegant and beautiful, foreign car, I think an Italian one.
All long the lunch he talks to me, and talks... I must confess that I
remember almost nothing about what he told me, even though it was just
ten hours before now. But I was looking at him, and looking at him and
dreaming and was not able to understand anything else. Then we went back
to work. Later, when it was time to leave, he wanted to bring me home
with his car, but I didn't feel like showing to my entire village that
the boss' son brings me home in his car.

Back home before the usual time, I at once told I was promoted to a
secretarial job in the offices, and that at times I would need to work
extra time, but that my salary will have a good increase. Babette is
happy. Even Mum seems to rouse herself from her apathy. Then I tell them
I need to hit the bed early and here I am, in my room, writing this
diary. Did" is undressing to hit his bed and asks me, "are you doing
your home-work, Lain?" and I, "right so, Did"." and he slips under his
blanket, happy with that. Now I'll go to kiss him good night. Then I too
will go to bed, I feel terribly tired, more than if I worked in the
galleries.

Good night, Jac. I don't want to lose you again, I swear.


31st of August 1973, Friday

We still didn't make love, and yet we spend lot of time together, since
five days. In the office we cannot, it's clear. But at times he gives me
a caress, he touches me lightly and I'm revved up, turn on. I warned
him, "If you do so, I get hard-ons and am not able to do my job." And
he, "that's good," answered with a pleased smile.

Then he told me to be patient, because he is planning everything. He
said he found a place almost in front to my old school and starting from
next Monday I can go there. He says that at evening he will take me to
St. Etienne and I have to attend the driving school. After the lessons I
can stay in my pied-ˆ-terre or else he takes me back to my home in the
village, as I like better. He says he doesn't want we make love in a
hurry, looking at the watch; therefore I need to have some more
patience, but not too much, as he too is longing for it.

Jac is really beautiful. Moreover I'm starting to know him some more,
after a week we work together. He is good hearted, gentle, and not just
with me, but with everybody. He is teaching me to be a good secretary
and I'm trying to do in the best way what he wants and I hope to make
him happy. I'm also learning to type, it isn't as difficult as I feared.
But I would like to be able to make him happy also in another way...

I told my family that the boss' son took me as a personal secretary and
that therefore at times I'll need to spend the night out, or to be late,
and possibly to stay in St. Etienne some nights. The fact that I'm
becoming an "important" person makes my family happy even if at times I
can't be at home some nights and Mum didn't even grumble.

Of course, I need to wear better clothes. For the moment I'm using my
Sunday's clothes to go to work, and the necktie that Claude gave me for
my birthday. But with my first salary I need to buy another suit, some
shirts, a couple of ties and new shoes. At the same time I've to be
careful not to spend too much money. In St. Etienne there is a Pris Unic
department store and there everything is cheap. This weekend Jac has to
go to Paris so I can stay home but we cannot meet until Monday.


Sunday, September 2nd, 1973

Today Bernard, with Martin and Claude came to see me. They heard about
my promotion, everybody seems to talk about that down in the galleries,
and they made me their congratulations. Claude, keeping me aside, told
me he is sorry we will not be able to meet too often, but perhaps at
times we can arrange something. I told him it will be practically
impossible, now, with my new schedule, and that I'm sorry for him, and
that I wish him to find a new friend, possibly one better than me. I see
that Claude ain't happy, because he understands it is over, and I'm
sorry, but I cannot do differently. Then also Bernard takes me aside,
and asks me how can I manage now to fuck, and I tell him that I'll start
again to wank for a good while, but who knows, when I have to stop at
St. Etienne, after work, I can possibly find a new mate. Of course I
cannot tell him about Jac and me. I'm really sorry for Claude, but not
for me. Even if I could, and if he asked me to do something together, I
would find a pretext to say him no, without hurting him. Now I'm
interested exclusively in Jac, even though we still have done nothing
together.


September 3, 1973, Monday

I asked him to bring me back home to the village.

When he took me to the small flat he rented, I hoped that at last
something would happen, but nothing. Who knows why he didn't ask me?
Could he perhaps be waiting for me to make the first step? I would do
it, yes, but I feel slightly embarrassed. He gave me the keys, showed me
around, then brought me to the driving school where he enrolled me and
we decided the schedule. Then he says, "Tonight would you like to sleep
in your place or in your home?" I understood that my place means the
pied-ˆ-terre and my home means in the village. I thought: if I answer in
my place, we possibly can have sex. But he came to my flat and,
downstairs, he says, "I'll come tomorrow morning to fetch you." So I ask
"Don't you come upstairs?" and he, "No, I'm going back home." So I say,
"Then I prefer to sleep at my family's house". "All right." he says and
drives me to the village.

Along the road, while he was driving, we chatted of this and that. I
cannot understand him. Possibly I was wrong not to stay in my flat;
perhaps after all he would have come upstairs... Or I had just to insist
he come upstairs... I really want him, I need him, and I'm fed to wank
dreaming he is there with me, when we spend all the day together and we
do nothing. If he ain't interested in me, why is he doing so many things
for me? Moreover, he said yes, he said he needs me and he doesn't want
to lose me again. All this just to look at me? No. Well, if it's not him
to take the first step, I think it is up to me, embarrassed or not.


September 5, '73, Wed.

Yesterday night, AT LAST we had sex.

Jac brought me to the driving school and told me, "I'll wait for you at
rue Ste Foy" that is at my pied-ˆ-terre. Already then, I guessed he had
possibly decided. After the lesson I ran upstairs, opened the door, and
he is there, sitting at the table, reading a magazine, waiting for me. I
enter, he stands up, we exchange some words, and then there we are one
in front of the other, in silence, looking at each other like two
dummies.

Then he says, all shy and embarrassed, "may I touch you?" and I,
excited, "sure, you know it. Why do you ask me?" and he, "I don't know,
but I feel that now it's different than when we were meeting at the
freight-yard" and I "different, how?" "I don't know, possibly more
important. Down there it could have been just an adventure, after all.
Now it's different." And I, again, like a dumb man, "different, how?"
And he says, "We are about to start a relationship, something serious."
So I say, "Right. Well, why don't you touch me?" and he, "Why I and not
you?" he says with such a sweet smile that makes him seem even more
handsome and more desirable than ever.

I then slowly raise my arms, like in a dream, I swear, and I hold him at
his sides and pull him towards me. He then caresses my cheek, ruffles my
hair while our bodies approach and it seems like a slow-motion movie.
And finally we kiss and it's so very beautiful. His mouth tastes like a
mountain spring. I know it's a funny thing, but this is what I thought
when at last we kissed. Then we started to caress each other all over
our bodies, then, always very slowly, to open the other's clothes and to
pull them out, until we were naked, one in front of the other, and our
bodies seemed like magnetized and were searching each other and it was
something marvelous. When we felt so aroused that our legs were no more
able to keep us up, he guided me to the bed and there we let us go to do
everything we just imagined and desired and dreamed for so long time.

Then, slowly, it is like if things started to become faster, as pleasure
was increasing, and we were founding back each other and it was as if we
never separated, we never lost each other, and at last it was like an
explosion of all our senses and we were overwhelmed by the emotion and
we reached ecstasies and I felt I was him and even if he didn't tell me,
I know that he felt he was being me. Then he remained there on the bed
with me and kept me in his arms. How much did I like being so, wrapped
by his arms and legs after we made love! I asked him, "Will you sleep
here, with me?" and he, with a smile, "If you wish" "I'd like that a
lot" "Then I'll stay." and kissed me.

But we didn't sleep soon. We talked, and talked, and he was asking about
me and me about him. It was beautiful, really, without any haste,
without having to check the watch, all the time just us two. And then,
this morning, when we woke up, it has been him to wake me up, he kissed
me and said, "Who's the first to shower?" and I, "you?" and he, "yes, so
while you shower I can prepare breakfast." Well, that also has been
beautiful. I mean, knowing he was preparing breakfast, for me. Then we
went to the mine to work. But I noticed something - now it seems that he
looks at me in a different way, while we are working. It seems almost
like if his eyes are brighter, and that they smile to me even if his
expression is serious. I ask to myself - also to the others now his eyes
seem different, or it's only me?


September 8th, '73, Saturday

How great is being with Jac - I feel like born again.

But last weekend we were apart - he with his family and I with mine.
This morning in the office he says, "Wouldn't you like being able to end
your studies?" and I, "sure I would. But I have to work to support my
family." Then he, "but I would be more than happy if you could study
again. You are a clever, intelligent boy, it's a pity you could not get
at last your BAC." And I reply, "I know, but I can't help it, its life!"
then he said, "what if I give you the same salary, but to end your
studies? Your problems would be solved, wouldn't they?" I look at him
and say, "But why? You cannot give me a salary for jobs I don't do, can
you? It would be unfair. Moreover it would be strange at the eyes of the
miners and of your family if I get a salary in change of nothing, don't
you see?" he says, "we can work on that..." but I' not yet persuaded, so
I say, "But then I would feel like a gigolo. As we make love, you give
me a salary. I don't like that. I get the money because I'm doing a job
and earn it, I'm not a pounce." And he says, "Why do you say that? I'm
not paying you, not for sex, I just would like being able to help you,
and after all I can, I'm not short in money... Why I can't be allowed to
give you a hand?"

Then I say, "You're nice, and gentle and generous, and you didn't offend
me, you know? But I don't feel like. Moreover... Babette was better than
me at school. If we had more money at home, it is she more than I the
one who should have to start again studying." He asks me, "What does for
a work, your sister?" "The maid, she cleans the home of our village's
notary." And he says, "what if I gave you enough money to allow both of
you to go back at school?" and I reply with laughter, "What are you,
Santa Claus? No, come on, be serious! It would be senseless, wouldn't
it?" "And why senseless? I would like a lot being able to give you a
hand and to know you're happy." "But I'm happy, I feel ok as I am. And
then... I would feel way too much embarrassed to get all that money from
you. You are already doing too much for me, the pied-o-terre rent, the
driving school..." but he, blushing a little, says "the pied-o-terre,
after all, is more for me than for you, because it is to allow me to
make love with you without problems any time I want." "Well, this is the
same for me, I love that flat just because of that... No, come on, Jac.
If you overdo, you embarrass me and you risk I flee away. No, I wouldn't
be able to flee away from you, but I would feel bad."

He understood and didn't insist he didn't come back on that speech. I
say that those who are accustomed to having lot of money feel natural to
spend and squander. It ain't that I wouldn't like resuming my studies,
and this even more for Babette. But I don't like the solution he was
thinking about. And, moreover, it ain't a question of just a bunch of
coins.

But, if I could be able to allow Babette to resume her studies, I'd be
really happy. Now I want to see how much I'll earn with my new salary
and then I can possibly let her stop to work for the notary. After all,
if I earn twice than before, I alone would be able to bring home more
money than my previous salary and Babette's salary together, even more
than Dad was earning, and now we are just eight, not nine as before. And
I'm eating out quite often, therefore they are just seven to eat at home
and they can manage to have a good life. And if I work extra hours, it
will be even better. Yes, it's so! Tomorrow morning I'll tell Babette to
leave the notary and to go, on Monday, to enroll again at her school - I
think she's still in time.


September 9, '73, Sun.

This morning I talked with Babette, She was saying no, at first, that's
not fair and so on. And she was saying, "who cares for the house, who
will care for the children..." and so forth. But this gave me an idea,
so I told her, "if you start again studying, you can spend more time at
home so you can care even more than now for the children, especially now
that I'm often far from home. In that way I needn't worry. Please,
Babette, do as I'm asking you." And so, insisting some more, I convinced
her. I'm really happy, really a lot. After all, if it was not Jac to
make me think about that, possibly I wouldn't have thought this
solution, because one becomes resigned to what life gives you.

The day before yesterday was Babette's birthday and I thinking that this
is the best present I could give her. I promised to Corinne and Did"
that, after lunch, I'll get them to the neighboring village, as there
are the merry-go-rounds. It will be a long walk, mainly for them, but I
love seeing how much happy and excited they are.

From downstairs comes up a really inviting and fine smell, in a while it
is lunch time. Babette is a real good cook, even better than Mum.
Surely, when Jac takes me to eat somewhere, the food is excellent, but
Babette's cooking, even though not so elegant and refined, is the best.
Babette is a really smart girl.


September 15th, '73, Saturday

Babette started her school. Yesterday, to cheer me up because for three
days we couldn't meet, Jac gave me his portrait drawn with pastels by
one of his cousins who studies at the Beaux Arts in Paris. It is
wonderful! It ain't so big; about 20 x 20 cm and it is a half-length of
Jac who is taking off a T-shirt so that he is half naked. I like it a
lot, and not only because it is beautiful and nicely executed, but also
because in that pose it seems to me I can see him when he undresses to
have sex with me. I pulled it away from the frame so that I put it here
in my diary and so I have it always with me and when, like now, he ain't
near me I can look at the drawing and I feel less lonely and alone. But
he is a lot more handsome, in person. My god, how handsome is he!

Also now it is here in front of me. He's, normally, more smiling, at
least when he is with me. And his hair is fairer than in the drawing,
but it is a really good portrait and I like it. If I didn't fear to
spoil it, I would cover it with kisses.

Jack told me that also that cousin is gay, but they did nothing
together. His name is Jean Marc and is 21 years old and is living for
three years with his boyfriend Manuel, a 28 y.o. Spanish boy, who earns
living performing concerts with his guitar. He says they are a nice
couple and that one day or the other he wants me to meet them as they
both are really likeable.

I would like being able to draw so perfectly, in order to be able to do
thousand portraits to Jac, in all poses, naked, of course, and not just
half-length. But I feel that if he was all naked in front of me, I would
not be able to draw his portraits, because I would be engaged in a lot
more pleasurable activities.

Ciao, my Jac, I like you a lot, do you know?


19th of September, '73, Wednesday

All these days I could not write my diary, because I sleep with Jac and
thus we are always together and I don't feel like he seeing I keep a
diary, because if he asks me to let him read it, I'm afraid I'll not be
able to tell him no.

I asked him, "but, your family doesn't complain that you almost never
sleep at home?" and he replies, "I think that my father didn't even
notice that. My mother is somewhat used, and somewhat she doesn't care.
Also because she possibly believes I have a girlfriend." And I, "if she
knew that instead you have a boyfriend..." and he, "why, your family
would not object?" and I, "I think that they would really feel very bad.
If my dad was alive and went to know this, I'm sure he would throw me
out of the house." And he says, "Yeah! Who knows why they think it's
such a horrible thing when it is so beautiful, instead?" and I, "Well,
you know, being a fag is something near to an illness..." and he, "What
illness are you talking about?! Don't say bullshit. Being a fag, and I
don't like this word, it is just a bad label that people despising you
glues on you, being gay is a natural thing, not at all an illness or a
vice, or what else." He says vehemently. Then I say, "But if it is a
natural thing, why not everybody is that way?" "Having red hair is
natural, isn't it?" "Of course, but what's the relation?" "Then, why
just a minority has red hair and not everybody?" he says and I felt
really silly. But I thought - is he right or the others? But the
redheads ain't mocked, and if somebody has a son with red hair, he
doesn't feel like it is a horrible misfortune. But... it's not exactly
the same being redhead or being gay, even though that doctor told me not
to worry, not to feel anxious.

So, Jac and I talked again about that, and he made me understand. It is
someway like with black people or Algerian here in France - there are
people who despise and mock them, and yet those immigrants ain't better
or worst than us. And anyway they are born black or Algerians and that's
all. I asked him if he is proud being gay, as Guy told me up there on
the mountains. He answered he doesn't feel proud nor ashamed, he is that
way and that's all. The only thing is that we cannot yet blurt it out
from the housetops, at least for now, to avoid being persecuted. But he
says that one day it would be possible tell it to everybody without
facing problems.

Then he looks at me with his special smile and says, "But if I wasn't
gay, I could not meet you. Therefore I'm really glad being gay and you
too, happily, are gay." He is totally right!


September 29, 1973, Saturday

Today - Did" birthday. I'll have my first salary on Monday, thus I could
buy him just a small plastic toy. But Did" has a nice character and he
is glad all the same. Also because he never got big presents, up to now.

I would like Jac meeting my family, but I don't know how to manage to
take home no less than my boss' son. Also here in the village it would
seem strange, odd. The more I spend time with him, the less I feel him
as the boss' son, I mean, he is just one like me and not so important or
different. I mean, he is important to me, of course, yes, a lot, but in
another way. I don't feel that distance I feared we could have. This is
also because he is really simple, easy, not at all a snob, and behaves
towards me as his peer and not as an employee and this not only when we
are in bed or when we are alone, but also in front of the others. But
then, he's kind and easy with everybody, not only with me, and I like
this. But with me there isn't just kindness, I mean, besides the sex, I
can feel there is something more, even though I'm not able to express
what. He's able to make me feel I'm important to him, very important as
a person.


First of October 1973, Monday

The salary is HIGH, I earn three times than before, and it is twice what
Dad earned. I'm lucky. My family can start a better living, now, at
last. Jac is now showering and called me to shower with him, therefore I
now stop writing. Its great showering together, it's really erotic. Jac
really thinks to everything in order to give me pleasure, and yet he
says it's me to give him a lot of pleasure. I never thought life could
be so wonderful!


October 14, '73, Monday

I met again Claude. He said, "it's hard to see you since you work as
secretary for the boss' son. You're lucky you have studied." Then he
talks of other things, then says, "He's handsome, the boss' son. You
have sex with him?" I feel like a stroke, but manage to control myself
and say, "don't say bullshit! I'd like to, but he has a girlfriend,
therefore I have no hopes." And Claude says, "It's a pity, isn't it?
Such a handsome man wasted with girls... Did you find somebody, in St.
Etienne?" And I, "yes, an old friend I went with when I was studying. At
time we fuck, some evenings, but not so often. And you?" and he says,
"I'm now with Gineste's son, the mine custodian. But I liked better with
you. Why not to meet, you and I, some time?" and I, "I don't have time,
now. And then, where?" and I change of subject.

Claude ain't bad, he is a dear friend, but now that I have Jac, I'm no
more interested in him for sex, not at all.


Oct. 20, '73, Saturday

Kurt and Madeleine are again with us for a few days. Last night Kurt,
who as usual sleeps in my room, naked as always, at a point tells me,
"Is Did" asleep?" and I, "Yes, why?" "It's a pity that this time he
doesn't sleep with your mum. I wanted to talk a while with you but I
fear to awake him. Why don't you come here with me, so we can chat in a
low voice without disturbing him?" and I, dummy like a goose, believe
him and go. And as soon as I'm with him, he touches me and says, "you
know you are a nice boy? Let's play a little..." I jump away from his
bed and say, "what are you doing? I don't like such things!" and he,
"come on, I noticed how you look at me and know what that means, don't
play the holy boy!" and I, "you have a nice body, yes, but all ends
there. And then, you are a married man, and I'm not a woman." "What's
wrong if we play a little? If you were a woman it would be
unfaithfulness toward my wife, but with a boy, with you, it's
different..." and I, back in my bed, "Stop it, Kurt, or else I'll tell
everything to Madeleine." And he says, "aren't you crazy? I was just
joking, I wasn't really propositioning you..."  "yeah, and you were
trying to touch me there just as a joke! Bah, let's believe that. But
now let's sleep its better."

If he tried that before I met again Jac, I'd have been game, but now I
don't want. I would be like wronging Jac, and he doesn't deserve that at
all. Possibly also Kurt is one of those six on ten the doctor told me
about.

But then I felt like wanking myself... and also now, again...

I don't want to be far from Jac, not even in the weekends!!!!!

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CONTINUES IN PART 11

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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
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