Date: Sun, 08 Jun 1997 18:02:17 PDT
From: Steven Milhouse <ganymede@hotmail.com>
Subject: Dimitri (m/m)

Warning: This is a gay love story. If this turns you off, there's a 
delete
button on your keyboard. If you're under the age of majority where you 
live, or this stuff is illegal, don't read it, unless you really want 
to, in 
which case for heaven's sake don't tell anyone. Feedback to 
ganymede@hotmail.com. Comments will be cheerfully responded to; 
flames will be cheerfully ignored. (c) 1997 Novus Homo. All rights 
reserved worldwide and then some.

Auth. Note: This bears some resemblance to a short story I wrote for 
my grade 11 final English exam, obviously without the naughty bits. 
That work was entitled "The Love Which Dares Speak its Name". 
Part of the story is also a rewrite of another story I wrote called 
"After 
the AIDS Test". Sure it's lazy, but I think "AIDS Test" is one of the 
best stories I've written and it fit right in. Cegep (college 
d'enseignement general et professionel) is a sort of pre-university 
college in Quebec accounting for grades 12 and 13. McGill is a 
university in Montreal. The Plateau is Montreal's student ghetto.

Dimitri
by Novus Homo

"And when two lovers woo,
They still say, 'I love you,'
On that you may rely,
The fundamental things apply
As time goes by..."
- Sam, Casablanca

Who remembers when a close friendship begins? I first met Dimitri on 
my first day at cegep. He was in my Pascal class and we first got to 
know each other discussing a project we were both working on. 
Eventually we attained the status of "best friends" in the eyes of the 
pursuivants of the social hierarchy which naturally arises in the
 presence of adolescents, gossip, and school.

Dimitri is tall, and has wavy dark hair and bewitching dark eyes, 
almost black. In contrast, his skin is light tan, like mine. He's mostly 
Russian, but part Italian as well. His frame is fairly muscular, more so 
than mine, but not ripped like some of the muscle studs you see on 
the newsgroups. All in all, he is extremely handsome. But I am getting 
ahead of myself.

I was extremely fortunate that Dimitri went on to McGill computer 
sciences, as I did. By this time I had moved away from home and was 
renting an apartment on the Plateau. Dimitri and I were still best 
friends. We told each other everything. He told me when he got a job; 
I told him when I got dumped; he called me when he got plastered at 
a party and needed a ride home. 

One day we were bicycling on the mountain and I skidded and fell 
with a comical splash into a mud hole. I lifted myself up. We laughed 
briefly and made some meaningless comments about watching where 
I was going. He scraped some of the mud off my face, then grabbed 
me and kissed me. The universe exploded. Until this moment, I don't 
think either of us knew that we were both a) gay and b) in love with 
each other. It was something we never wanted and now couldn't do 
without. 

We bicycled to my apartment, and I changed out of my clothes and 
showered. I came out of the bathroom wearing a towel and intending 
to change into some clean clothes. He read my intentions and shot 
me a look that said, don't bother. I shut the drapes and sat down on 
the sofa beside him. We embraced again and kissed, long and full on 
the lips. Our mouths opened and our tongues battled for supremacy.

I came up for air. "Let me get this off of you," I gasped. I shucked off 
his open shirt and peeled away his tee. Our skin was now touching. 
We kissed again, and I got up and led with my tongue into the 
bedroom. We collapsed on the bed and he took down his pants and shorts 
as I got rid of my towel. We were naked now, and in a 
magnificent embrace that lasted until the end of time. Our cocks rose 
towards each other, and I started to move down.

My tongue feathered down his face to his neck, down his chest, 
stopping to take each nipple in my mouth and swirl them until they 
became points. Dimitri was gasping and moaning, "Steve, Steve..." I 
worked my way down his muscular chest and down to his beautiful 
cut cock.

I won't lie to you. The average is six inches and he was probably six 
and a half, maybe seven, like me, but I'm no size queen. I went down 
on it like it was the last thing in the world. I slid my mouth and 
palate 
over it, nibbled a bit with my molars, adoring this cock, my love's 
cock. 
He caressed my head and shoulders with his hands as I finally 
brought him to completion. As he started to peak I got out of the way 
and finished him off with my hand. His come shot on my face and 
flowed like a sacred river over my wrist and arm. 

He rolled back on the bed. "Steve..." he rasped, "I love you."

It's been said before, it will be said again. "I love you, too."

"I want you in me, Steve. Fuck me, please..."

Like I'd refuse.

I reached into my bedside table and pulled out a condom. I ripped 
open the package. Dimitri took it and rolled it down onto my erection, 
then rolled back over. 

"Be gentle, okay?" said Dimitri. "This is my first time with a guy."

"Mine too, love," I admitted. "I'd never hurt you. Tell me if you want 
me to stop."

I rubbed some of Dimitri's load onto my fingers. I spread his beautiful 
ass apart and gently lubed him with his own come, then pressed one 
finger into his cowrie-shell hole. He gasped. 

"You okay?"

"It's great," he moaned. "Don't stop."

I put in another finger, then when I was convinced he was ready, I 
slowly started to enter him. I pushed in, one inch, two... Gawd, it was 
an incredible sensation, the heat of his hole pressing against my shaft 
and molding around it. It was only a few minutes until I was all the way
 inside him. He moaned and started to lift himself up off my cock, then 
brought himself back down. I got into his rhythm and started to fuck 
him slowly. Throughout this, he was moaning incoherently, curses, 
prayers, declarations of love, or just vocalizations. I was having a 
similar reaction. I reached around and took his cock in my hand and 
started to beat him off in time to my strokes, strong even thrusts. I 
was 
getting closer, closer, closer, closer, c l  o   s    e     r      ...

*let there be light! 

and there was light...*

When I awoke a second later, I was still inside him. I withdrew slowly, 
grasping the base of the condom in Dr. Ruth-approved fashion. I 
shucked it off, wrapped it in a kleenex, and tossed it in the trash. 
Dimitri and I lay there in the post-coital quiescence, as it is 
majestically 
known to sexologists, kissing and whispering sweet nothings in each 
other's ears. Eventually, even though it was the middle of the 
afternoon, we drifted off to sleep in each other's arms and didn't wake 
up until next morning.

****

Our relationship cemented itself until a month later, when Dimitri had 
an idea. He would introduce me to his dad. His parents were divorced 
and his mother was now living in British Columbia; Dimitri still lived 
with 
his father. He called home from my apartment.

"Dad? Hi. It's Dimitri. I was wondering, are you busy tonight? I want to 
introduce you to someone. Dinner? That's fine. See you at seven. 
...No dad, that would spoil the surprise. Bye now."

We showed up at Dimitri's house at the appointed time, and Dimitri's 
father, a grizzled man of about 50, met us at the door. "Hello, 
Dimitri," 
he said. "Is this who you wanted me to meet?"

"Yes," Dimitri replied. "Steve, this is my father, Nikolai Illych 
Korolev. 
Dad, this is Steve Milhouse, my boyfriend."

The cup of coffee Mr. Korolev was holding crashed to the ground, 
shattering and spilling coffee on the hardwood floor.

"Your boyfriend? You're joking, right?"

"Joke? Why would I joke about it?"

"You mean you're queer?"

"So?"

"So? I won't have a fairy as my son!"

Mr. Korolev caught Dimitri a hard blow to the side of his head. "Get 
out of my house, you fucking pansy, and take your faggot-ass 
boyfriend with you! Come back tomorrow and get your shit out of your 
room, then I don't want to see you again!"

"Fuck you!" yelled Dimitri, and he and I retreated out the door, leaving 
the bigot to his rage.

We drove to my place in silence.

We arrived and sat down beside each other and stared at the tv 
(which was turned off). "I really fucked that up for you, didn't I?" I 
ventured after a while.

Dimitri turned on me with a fury I hadn't seen in him before. "Don't you 
say that! It's his fault! His! If he's gonna be a homophobic bigoted 
fuckhead, it's him, not you! He can go to hell! I love *you*!" He leapt 
at me and grabbed me around the shoulders in a powerful bear hug 
and kissed me roughly. The kiss went on and on until I thought I'd 
died of suffocation and gone straight to heaven. We collapsed onto 
the ground and continued to grind our bodies together in a desperate 
embrace. Despite the two layers of cloth separating them, our cocks 
started to rise to meet each other. We kept grinding until we shot in 
our pants, and then we lay there, still in our embrace. 

"Dimitri?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I know."

"You can stay here if you want."

"Thanks."

"Will you marry me?"

"Yeah."

We kissed again. Exhausted from the day's travails, we shucked our 
clothes and lay in bed. Although we didn't make love again that night, 
we lay in each other's arms, and we both felt safe.

******

I determined to go about this the right way. We went in for blood tests. 
With AIDS, you can't be too careful. 

We waited for the required period of time, then I went to pick up the 
results. We were both clean. We'd celebrate tonight.

I came home and told Dimitri the good news. We leapt into each 
other's arms. I walked with him into the bedroom.

I closed the drapes. Love may be blind, but the neighbours aren't.

We both fell on the bed. He put his hands into the buttons of my shirt 
and undid them. I did the same for him. The shirts fell away and we 
embraced. Melting together, I probed with my tongue into his mouth. 
Our kiss was more unifying than anything I'd ever felt before. Some 
African tribespeople, on seeing Europeans kissing for the first time, 
said, "Watch them, they share each other's saliva and dirt." Well, 
sure. Gladly.

I started moving down. I showered him with kisses, quick pecks as I 
moved down his jaw, down his neck. I tongue washed his Adam's 
apple. He moaned in delight. I kept moving down his sculpted torso. I 
found my way to his left nipple. I lashed the tempting strawberry with 
my tongue and he vibrated in ecstacy. Moving across
the basal line of his pecs, I tantalized the other. I moved down his 
linea alba to his navel and washed it out. He giggled; it must have 
tickled. His cock by now was at full attention. I moved down and it 
brushed against my face. I took it in my mouth. First I used the tip of 
the tongue to tantalize the upper slope, then the sides where the 
foreskin meets the glans, then the frenulum, then the urinary opening. 
He spasmed; this was sheer joy. "Steve..." he says. "Move around.
Let me do you."

"Not yet," I said. "Let me keep going."

I started to nibble. I gave a quick series of bites with my molars and 
incisors. Not enough to hurt by any means; just enough to be 
incredibly erotic. Finally, I filled my mouth with saliva and moved my 
head up and down his shaft. He got the idea and started fucking my 
face. While he rammed his cock into my throat, I had the presence of 
mind to twitch the muscles of my esophagus to stimulate his tool that 
much more. Finally, his cock exploded, filling my mouth with his seed. I 
tasted and swallowed. It was almost sweet, unlike my own 
musky-tasting come.

He was panting. He always pants when he jacks off. It's quite 
endearing.

I told him to roll over. He knew what came next. Grabbing a tube of 
KY, I rubbed it on my hardon and on his asshole. He shuddered in 
delight. I climbed on top of him. Before I entered him, I lay there, 
resting my head on his shoulder muscles. I hugged him tightly.


"Go slowly," he said. He needn't worry.

I pressed the tip of my shaft against his hole. Slowly I pushed in. The 
copious amounts of lube, not to mention the precum that was flowing 
freely over my cock, made the descent easy.

It was done. My cock was buried to the hilt. Dimitri was making tiny 
susurrations of ecstacy. I lay there for a moment, feeling my cock in 
between the layers of warm mucosal flesh. I started to pull out, then 
shoved back in. I paid close attention to Dimitri's reactions. Judging 
from the moaning, he was either in great pain or astonishing joy.

"How is it?" I grunted.

"Better than anything in the universe," he sighed.

I started to hump him with vigour. Each thrust provoked a gasp, each 
withdrawal a sigh. All my cock knew is that it liked this very, very 
much indeed. My balls slapped against his ass. I worried they might 
get sore. Finally, like a ship keeling over, I shuddered. My head swam. 
I saw stars. Finally, I came in glorious geysers which filled his ass. 
He 
moaned once, then he shot onto the bedclothes.

*Damn. Now I have to explain this to the drycleaners*, I thought.

******

We were married on April 30 the next year, in a ceremony in an NDG 
church which did gay marriages. It was a beautiful ceremony; Dimitri 
and I wore white tuxedos; my parents were there, as were Dimitri's 
mother and stepfather, who had flown in from BC. Dimitri's father was 
of course conspicuous by his absence.

I will never forget it.

"Do you, Dimitri Nicolajevic Korolev, take Steven to be your husband, 
in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for 
worse, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"Do you, Steven Matthew Milhouse, take Dimitri to be your husband, 
in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for 
worse, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." We looked at each other. His eyes still held the same mystery 
as when we had first met six years ago.

"Then by the power invested in me, I pronounce you married. You 
may kiss each other."

We did. Enthusiastically. 

The late, unlamented Mr. Korolev moved to St. Petersburg, where he 
died about a year after we were married.

We've been together five years now. The fire has not yet dimmed.