Date: Wed, 24 Mar 1999 16:18:19 +0900
From: Andrej Koymasky <andrejkoymasky@geocities.com>
Subject: King of Sitges 05

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THE KING OF SITGES

by Andrej Koymasky (C) 1998
written the 12th of February, 1991
translated by the author
English text kindly revised
by Jerry a friend in Texas.

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USUAL DISCLAIMER

"THE KING OF SITGES" 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, ore
because you think yo really want to read it, please be my welcomed
guest.

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FIFTH

Five days later, in the morning, Jaume was awaken by the telephone.
Still drowsy, he picked up the receiver and recognized Miguel's voice.

"You hit the mark! I was sure you would. We won, two to zero!"

"Hit the mark? Two to zero? What are you fucking saying?"

"About Juan. The other day, after you two were together, the entire
journey back; he did nothing but talk about you..."

"About me? Did he tell you what we did in bed?"

"No, not even a hint. He is a reserved guy in those matters. He was
talking about you, he was enthusiastic, I'd say quite fascinated by you.
And when I told him you were the best hustler in Sitges, he came close
to beating me. He doesn't want me to use that word when speaking about
you. He says you are a learned, likable and remarkable boy... By the
way, he said he enjoyed it, whatever you did. Then, as we agreed, he
took me to meet a prostitute. I had sex with her. Then I told him that I
didn't really like it. As far as the ass, there is little difference.
But giving head, a male is much more skilled, I told him.  And about her
pussy, to put it inside there seemed to me like wearing shoes that were
too big. And licking her there, I didn't like the smell at all, I prefer
the taste and the smell of a good dick. And he almost admitted I was
right, do you understand?"

"Do you mean he is now gay?"

"No, not that. I really don't believe so. He always likes a woman. But
he told me that he wouldn't refuse to try it again, especially with you.
And also, he later told me that even before the experiment; he never had
anything against gay people. Just that he despised, a little, hustlers
and prostitutes.  But that now that he met you, he doesn't despise
hustlers any more. Of course he never used the word hustler, instead, he
said gigolo..."

"I too liked Juan. He is a simple, frank, honest boy. I didn't give him
my calling card. Please, eventually give him my telephone number."

"Do you hope to meet him again?"

"Why not, I would like to. I feel he is a dear boy. And then... I have
been his first man, right?"

After the telephone call, Jaume stood up. He sensually stretched, made a
few bends and looked at himself in the mirror. His body was in perfect
shape - right weight, muscles well outlined without being overly
developed and a light and uniform tan... He took a quick shower, shaved
and sprinkled his body with the very light perfume he usually wore. 
Donning his restaurant uniform, he carefully combed his hair so that it
was neither too neat nor too rebellious. He smiled at himself in the
mirror, satisfied with the image he saw reflected in it, and went to
work.

Doing his double shifts at work was somewhat stressing, but he still had
to pay several installments. In the afternoon he went to the pool, then
to language lessons. In the evening, after his second shift, he went
back home to change clothes, then to Reflejos. He greeted the owner and
sat at the counter to chat with the two or three other hustlers who
usually went there. Then they parted and each sat at a different table,
so that eventual johns could easily pick them up. Around midnight a
Frenchman sat at his table. He didn't like him, so with a pretext,
kindly but firmly, let him understand he preferred to be left alone. At
twelve fifteen, a man about forty entered, rather elegant and not bad at
all.

Jaume looked at him, hoping he would come to his table. In fact, after
exchanging two words with the bartender, the man approached him.

"May I sit at your table?"

"Certainly, please."

>From the accent, even if he spoke good Spanish, he could be English.
They continued their conversation. He was an Australian.

After awhile, the man said: "The bartender says you are the most
expensive; but the best here in Sitges. This afternoon, he told me that
I could find you here around this time. Would you like to devote some
time to me tonight?"

"Sure, willingly. Would you like to come to my place?"

They went to Jaume's house. When they undressed, seeing how the man was
well endowed, the boy expected something completely different from what
happened. The Australian enjoyed licking all of Jaume's body, give him
long and skilled head bringing him just a step away from orgasm to then
slacken to make his excitation subside in a very agreeable torture. The
man didn't caress him, didn't want to be caressed, nothing at all. On
the contrary, he wanted Jaume to stay still on the bed, spread eagled,
and let him feast. While the Australian tirelessly was busying himself
on Jaume, the boy was thinking.

He was recalling all those with which he had sexual intercourse,
especially his clients. There were really of any type, for any taste.
Most of them, reached their orgasm, dressed quickly and left. And this
also happened among his repeat clients. At times, meeting them on the
street, they didn't even greet him. Possibly they didn't even recognize
him, probably they were ashamed of him, perhaps they despised him... who
knows. And yet, how many of them, during sex and especially when they
were nearing their orgasm, would call Jaume "love". What an empty word,
he thought. What a wasted word. Those who called him "pig" during sex,
after all, were more honest and coherent. And then, almost not one of
his client knew what tenderness was. They fucked, or asked to be fucked,
and that's that. Almost mechanically. Luckily there were some rare
exceptions, and then Jaume enjoyed it, savored it.

Some talked with him almost like to a confessor. Some exchanged barely
two or three words. Some in bed were completely passive - he had to do
everything, he was paid for that. Some instead, like the client tonight,
wanted to do everything and he had to be passive, like an object...
Jaume had to let himself be submissively manipulated like a plastic
erotic doll, one of those horrible inflatable dolls... At least he was
beautiful... Some rare times there was balance. Some rare times the
client, besides looking of course for his own pleasure, showed interest
also in Jaume's pleasure. Even this one, who was after all giving him
pleasure, didn't do it for the boy's sake, but just for himself.

Happily, Jaume had friends like Miguel or Alvino. And also Jorje and
Carlos, two other hustlers.

He felt that he was again nearing his orgasm, and this time, his client
didn't seem like he was going to slow down. Jaume closed his eyes - he
was bothered seeing the Australian's head bustle about his cock, but
being so completely indifferent to him. What appealed that man was just
that piece of his body, and was only interested in it just because he
liked to feel it hard inside his mouth, make it shudder, provoke its
orgasm. If that man could have just a cock, without a body, a dildo but
alive, reacting at his oral stimulations, he would have been just as
happy. Even the licks at the beginning, the boy thought, were just to
make his cock hard.

When he at last ejaculated in his client's eager mouth, Jaume felt a
kind of weird dissociation - who enjoyed it was his member, not he
himself. The guy, drinking the last drop of the boy's warm sperm,
concluded the act, dressed again, exchanged a few words with Jaume for
simple formality, paid him and left.

The boy took a shower, dressed again and went out. But he didn't intend
to go cruising, he just didn't feel like it. It was one o' clock in the
morning. He would take a short walk to the Bassa Rondona beach, then he
would have go back home to sleep. But he really needed some fresh air.
When on the street, he turned on Avinguda de Sofia, crossed the Paseig
Maritim, pulled off his shoes and socks and went down on the beach to
the waterline.

He was looking towards the open sea, leaden in the night, quilted by
silver reflections of the high moon. Breathing deeply, he filled his
lungs with the salty air that, in light sudden gusts, came from the sea.
The lights of distant crafts, boats, yachts or possibly the ferry for
Palma de Majorca, rocked a little on the horizon. His thoughts were
wrecked in that dark sea, and finally he felt his mind become free,
while a calm serenity entered his heart. Smells, noises, a few lights
and cozy colors wrapped him. Just his bare feet, gently lapped by the
unending going and coming of the small waves, had definite, sharp
sensations.

Jaume was standing so, submerged in an almost dream-like state, when he
felt that somebody was stopping near him. He looked - it was a man,
about 35 - 40 years old.

The stranger smiled at him and, in English, said: "A fine night, isn't
it?"

Jaume answering the smile; said in English: "Yes, it cleans up the
soul."

"Ah, luckily you speak my language. But... how old are you?"

"I'm twenty. Why?"

"At twenty, the soul is still clean. Doesn't need to be purified."

Jaume, sadly smiled and shook his head: "When one is twenty, his soul
can be one hundred years old."

"Are you perhaps sad?"

"Yes and no. I am not sad. I am not happy."

"Do you want to be alone?"

"Doesn't matter. You are not bothering me."

"Are you a local?"

"Yes."

"Do you work?"

"I am a waiter at the restaurant La Brasa."

"Is it a good restaurant?"

"The best in Sitges."

"Then I have to go there. And not just for the food..."

Jaume looked at the man and gave him a coy, warm smile: "Are you a
tourist?" he asked.

"No, I am in Barcelona for work."

"How long will you stay?"

"For a few months. I like Sitges - my friends told me a lot about it.
So, today I decided to come and see for myself... and I really enjoyed
it. Do you live farr from here?"

"No, only a short distance from here, just back there. But from my home
you can only see the mountains..."

"Do you live alone?"

"Yes, alone."

Jaume had the clear sensation that the man was interested in him, but
nothing seemed to be happening. He liked the guy, was attracted by him.

"Do you have many friends, here in Sitges?"

"No, almost no one. Lot of acquaintances, but real friends, one, two..."

"I too don't have real friends in Barcelona. Acquaintances that, for...
laziness, one calls friends. So at times I feel lonely."

"Do you miss your country?"

"The States? No, not yet, at least. I feel good here, you are a amiable,
warm people. With you it is easy to communicate, it is agreeable to
talk. Like now with you. Your English is good. Did you live in the
United Kingdom or in the States?"

"I've never set foot out of Catalonia. I just studied it in school and
now I take private lessons. For my work, it is useful to know
languages."

"Do you like your work?"

"Yes. I get to meet all kind of people, and from all over the world. I
make a comfortable living, especially with the tips."

"Yes, I bet you receive a lot of tips, you have a captivating smile. 
You make someone immediately like you. Also you have a beautiful voice,
you are good looking, and you have an elegant poise... It is a pleasure,
just to look at you, to be near you..."

Jaume felt himself blushing, and was astounded at himself. He had never
been shy, and it was not the first time somebody expressed appreciation
for his body. The man, after a short silence, said:

"By the way, we've been talking for awhile and I haven't yet introduce
myself. I'm Kevin Bowens."

"And I am Jaume Ferret. How do you do."

"How do you do. It's a pleasure to meet you. And this is not just a
greeting, but what I really feel."

"You are very kind, sir."

"Can we be less formal? Can you call me just Kevin?"

"With pleasure, Kevin."

"It is very late, I have to go back."

"Can't you wait a little longer? Do you have a train to catch?"

"No, I'm here with my car. But this morning I have to be up very early.
Would you accompany me to the parking lot?"

"Yes, gladly. Where did you park?"

"In Placa Espanya."

"Ah, then we pass in front of my house. So I can show you where I live."

"All right."

Kevin didn't invite him, didn't touch him, didn't tell him anything,
apart from the compliments. Still, Jaume was sure that the man was
attracted to him, just as he felt attracted to the man. They walked,
stopped briefly in front of Jaume's front door. The boy, feeling
strangely emotional, said:

"Would you like to come upstairs a moment? Just for the stirrup cup?"

"No, thank you. It is too late. Next time I'll be pleased to come
upstairs. Do you feel like meeting again?"

"Certainly, I really hope we do."

Jaume accompanied him to his car. Here they exchanged telephone numbers.
Then Kevin gave him a quick kiss on his lips.  Entering the car,  he
started the engine and from the window said to him:

"See you soon, I hope." and drove away.

Jaume, watching the taillights vanishing in the distance, became aware
that his heart was heavily beating. He went back home, climbed the
stairs, entered, went to bed, always with Kevin's image in his eyes, his
voice still in his ears, his light kiss still lingering on his lips.

Kevin called him the following morning.

"Can we meet, today?"

"I'm free between 2 and 7 p.m. Are you too?"

"Yes. Can we meet in front of the church?"

"In Placa del Baluard? All right. I will be there around 2:15."

"I thought about you a lot. I hope we can really become friends."

"Yes, me too. I am happy I met you, Kevin."

They met. They walked awhile, then stopped at the Aiguadolc beach. They
went bare chested to sun bathe awhile. Jaume looked at Kevin's chest...
and liked it. He felt the desire to put his lips on the small, flat and
dark nipples of the man.

They talked a lot, about themselves, their thoughts, their tastes,
almost as if they each wanted the other to understand better the person
they had met.  Jaume felt several times the urge to tell him that he was
an escort, a luxury hustler, but he never found the courage. They never
brought up the subject of their sexual preferences, even if it was more
and more evident that each of them was attracted by the other.

"I feel so comfortable with you, Jaume. Time seems to fly by. In a
while, you have to go back to work, right?"

"Yes, but we still have a little more time. Do you feel like going for a
drink somewhere?"

"Yes, sure."

They put their shirts back on.

Kevin was looking at him: "I like looking at your chest. Do you do
exercise?"

"A little. Just to maintain a good shape."

"You have a nice body. You are a beautiful boy, indeed..."

"You have nothing to envy me. You too are handsome."

After drinking an iced tea, Kevin accompanied Jaume to the Passeig de la
Ribera, in front of the restaurant.

"Can I wait for you till the end of your shift?"

"Certainly yes. But what will you do, with that much time to kill?"

"I'll go back to the beach. Then have something to eat somewhere, then
perhaps to see a movie."

"Why don't you come to eat here at La Brasa? I can get you a
discount..."

"Another time. I would like so much like to kiss you now... but I
presume it is better not to. Think of me as if I gave it to you."

"Thank you Kevin. You are so sweet. I'm longing for 11 tonight!"

For the next four hours of his work Jaume thought only about Kevin. He
liked the man very much. He wanted to make love with him. But he felt
curiously embarrassed, even at the idea of  asking him. He would invite
him again to his home. But he wouldn't take him into the alcove, he
wouldn't even show it to him. He felt a little ashamed of it. And then,
if he showed it to Kevin, the man would for sure understand his second
work...

When Jaume finally left work, he found Kevin leaning at the El Greco
monument. He waved his hand in greeting and, smiling happily, went
towards him.

"Hi, Kevin. Where do you want to go, tonight? A pub, a disco, a
nightclub?"

"Yesterday... you invited me to your place. Is the invitation still
open?"

"Sure, sure, of course. Let's go, then."

Jaume was really happy while they were rapidly going to his home. They
went up stairs,  and he led Kevin into his foyer and sat him on the
sofa.

"I'll put on some music. Would you like a drink?"

"Do you have any beer?"

"Yes, sure. There's some in the fridge; I'll get you one."

When Jaume returned, Kevin had slipped off his shoes and was half laying
down on the sofa. Jaume handed him the bottle and was about to sit in
the armchair in front, but Kevin patted his hand on the sofa, at his
side, in a silent invitation. So Jaume sat at his side. Kevin sipped his
beer, then said with a low voice:

"I feel so good with you, Jaume."

He sat up, put down the bottle and turning, his face was almost brushing
that of the boy. Their eyes met, their faces slowly approached and they
lightly kissed on the lips. Then Kevin embraced Jaume and their kiss
became warmer, stronger, more intimate. They started to caress each
other, then Jaume unbuttoned Kevin's shirt. He didn't have any
underwear, so Jaume caressed his chest, his sides, his back, slipping
his hands under the light cloth. At the same time, Kevin took his
initiative and his lowered hands to open Jaume's trousers enough to slip
his hand inside the boy's boxers, to lightly caress the incipient
erection. Jaume shuddered from head to toe and emitted a short moan of
pleasure.

"What's the matter, Jaume?" the man asked gently smiling to him.

"I like you Kevin. I like you very much!"

"I like you too. I desired you from that very first moment, there on the
beach, last night."

They continued to caress, kissing each other, and to free the other of
his clothes that fell, one after the other, haphazardly on the carpet
near the sofa. As their bodies were exposed, at the contemplation of the
other, at his caresses and kisses, they fell prey to a growing but very
sweet excitation, as if they were entering a dream.

That first time they made love there on the sofa, for both of them it
was a very sweet experience, in spite of the uncomfortable position.
Kevin left Jaume around at 2 a.m., promising him that he would come
again the following afternoon. They met daily and each time they made
love with increasing pleasure and ecstatic joy. They often went on long
walks together, or went to the movies, or to do shopping. Slowly, both
become aware that they were falling in love.

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CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 6

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In my home page I've put some of my stories. If someone wants to read
them, the URL is

http://www.geocities.com/~andrejkoymasky/

If you want to send me feedback, please e-mail me at

andrejkoymasky@geocities.com

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