Date: Sun, 16 Jul 2006 09:21:17 +0200
From: A.K. <andrej@andrejkoymasky.com>
Subject: "A Fairy Tale?" 01/14 (College)

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A FAIRY TALE?
by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2006
written the 7th of March, 1993
translated by the author
English text kindly revised
by Vicent

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USUAL DISCLAIMER

"A FAIRY TALE?" 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.

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CHAPTER 1 - Fantasies... Fantasies...

³Stop it, Martino. Shut off that TV and start on your studies!²

³But dad, itıs almost over... just a few minutes...²

³No, shut it off now! And hit the books!²

Reluctantly, Martino stood, shut off the TV and sulked off to his room.
He sat at his desk, opened the pathology textbook and mechanically
started to read. But his head was elsewhere. He fantasized about the end
of the detective movie he was watching when his father ordered him to
switch off the TV.

Martino often took refuge in his fantasy, partly to compensate for his
fatherıs authoritarianism, partly for sheer amusement. He had done this
since he was a little boy, from the time when his mother died, who until
then had smoothed his fatherıs harshness with her smile and her
sweetness.

Even though he was of age, if he wanted to be supported while in school,
he had to give his father blind obedience. And he wanted very much to
become a doctor. This thought shook him, and he began to really study
pathology. There were just two weeks to the test. Time literally flew
by, and the ringing of his table alarm clock told him he had to prepare
to go to the gym. Reluctantly he closed his book, took his prepacked
sports bag and left for the gym. When Martino was thirteen his father
decided he should work out regularly at the gym. Mens sana in corpore
sano, he had pronounced, and then he added: ³You have to unload your
youthful energies and keep your body in good shape at the same time.²

His father ruled him with a rod of iron; he had always done so. Even at
home he was a soldier - the worst kind, a regular soldier who succeed in
being promoted. Martino couldnıt remember having seen him without his
uniform. He didnıt even wear civilian clothes in his wedding picture. On
vacations, he took them to resorts for high-ranking officers, in full
uniform, of course. Healthy mountain air and endless walking. Martino
asked himself what would become of his father if one day, by chance, all
uniforms miraculously disappeared from the face of the earth. He would
probably die on the spot! Either that or he would be too ashamed to ever
go out of his house again. Without his uniform, his father had to feel
naked. Funny he doesnıt sleep or shower in his uniform, the boy told
himself, and he smiled, amused at his own idea.

At the gym he did all the scheduled exercises, conscientiously, because
he knew that his father had ordered the trainer to supervise him and to
give a monthly report on his sonıs progress.

When he ended his training, he finally went to take a shower. Under the
spray of the shower, he fancied he was in a pelting rain in a tropical
forest. Through the steam he could see silhouettes of other men who were
washing themselves and he fancied they were the natives of the nearby
village with whom he, a famous explorer, had become friends because he
healed the chiefıs eldest son. Notwithstanding that they were primitive
headhunters, famous for their ferocity, he had nothing to fear. They
were grateful to him, and treated him with a mixture of awe and respect
as a witch doctor has to be treated...

He rinsed and went out. Drying himself, he went to his locker to dress
again. Near his spot there was a full-length mirror and when he saw he
was alone, he lingered to look at himself while he was still naked. Not
bad at all, he had  to admit. Even though he was bored with all the
exercises, at least he gained in physical shape. Just as his father
wanted, anyway.

He dressed and went home, crossing diagonally through the wide park that
occupied a former drill ground. Near his home he passed a pair of young
lovers who were smothering each other with kisses. Martino smiled to
himself, but wondered why it never happened to him. Why was there no
girl for him to smother with kisses? Perhaps he had just never found the
right one. In fact he had never felt attracted to a girl, not to her
body or to her personality. Yet for several years he had felt sexual
urges, which he appeased by wanking off. But when it came up, when it
became hard, it was never because he saw or thought about a sexy girl.
He didnıt understand why he got a hard-on from time to time. He only
knew that when it happened, he had to wank off to give himself vent.
Sometimes his friends, or more accurately his schoolmates, because he
didnıt have any real friends, would talk about being aroused by some
girl. That never happened to him.

Once one of his mates showed him one of those porno magazines with the
glossy cover that often peeps out from among other magazines in the
newspaper stands. Not even those pictures aroused him, unlike his friend
who said they gave him a hard-on. He smiled remembering that at those
words he had thought that he would like to feel his fly to verify the
information. Of course he didnıt do it, for fear his friend would think
he was a faggot!

Right, the faggots. Who knew how two males could amuse themselves
together? That is, he knew perfectly well how they did, because
sometimes his friends talked about someone who liked to give head or to
be fucked in the ass. But he couldnıt understand what pleasure there
could be in these activities. Everybody knows that a man enjoys putting
it between a girlıs legs, right?

Martino went upstairs, greeted his father and guessed the man was
checking his watch to see if he had lost time on the route. Then went to
bed, completely undressing and putting on his pajamas before he slipped
under the sheets. While he was falling asleep, he had a hard-on, so he
began to jerk off. While he was doing it, as usual, his mind was blank,
with no fantasies, concentrating completely on the sensations he was
providing himself. He came on the small towel he always had ready,
soaking it. He rolled it and hid it under his mattress. In the morning
he would make it disappear into the big basket of dirty clothes. When
the housekeeper did the laundry, it would have dried up and would not
betray the use he had made of it. Sated, he fell asleep.

Martinoıs life flew by in this way, between two straight rails laid out
by his father, a regular rhythm of lessons, study, and gym. Full stop,
next line.

But there was one thing his father could not control: his unbridled
fantasy. Whenever he could, he took refuge in it. He created fascinating
thriller plots, science fiction stories, unlikely but beautiful
adventure tales, suffused with all the colors his father banned from his
life. In fact there were two things his father could not control; the
second was when he beat off, his mind empty, enjoying the pleasurable
sensations that this activity gave him, analyzing them, savoring them
until the sweet yet strong final emotion.

A few nights later, coming back home from the gym, as he came towards
the park, he noticed a boy leaning against a street lamp, a cigarette in
his lips, looking into the void.

³Who knows what heıs doing, that one, all alone at this time! Is he
waiting for someone?² he asked himself as he came nearer. He saw a car
pulling up. It stopped near the boy and the lights switched. Neither the
driver nor the boy moved. Then the car flashed its lights. The boy drew
nearer and bent towards the car window as if to talk with the driver.
After a short while, a young man got out of the car, locked it and
walked into the park, followed by the boy.

Martino was surprised. He thought: ³Thatıs strange... if they knew each
other, why didnıt they start to speak at once? The man in the car made a
signal before they...²

And his fantasy went into a gallop!

³They are two spies... The younger one waited for the signal to be sure
it was the right car, then he spoke the password in order to be
recognized. But the younger one must not be an important agent, he must
still be green... Now they are going into the park... somebody is hiding
there, waiting for them... Someone the man from the car has to meet...
If he only had just to pick up or drop off a roll of microfilm, the
younger one could do it... Could they be from the KGB or the CIA, or
perhaps even the Mossad?²

Martino felt an unrestrainable desire to spy on those two spies. He
approached the park from another side, furtively, and entered among the
trees. His heart beat strongly but he was determined to live the
adventure. He knew the layout of the park well, so he detoured towards
the direction the two spies had taken. He walked in the shelter of the
bushes; meanwhile his eyes got used to the faint light that filtered in
from the bordering boulevards. He looked around carefully, trying to
single out the two suspicious characters. He couldnıt see them
immediately. Being careful not to make any noise, he continued to move
so as not to be seen. He moved with prudence and caution, but with
confidence. Finally he saw two silhouettes. He drew nearer with doubled
caution, gliding from bush to bush, tree to tree, without losing sight
of his quarry. They might be carrying weapons, so he had to be very
careful.

His heart was beating stronger and stronger, more out of the emotion of
the adventure than out of fear. The two guys had entered a thicket and
did not come out. That had to be the place of the secret meeting.
Martino reached the thicket and lay in wait behind a tree. He looked.
The two men, now that he could see them better, were still alone. They
were very close, as if they were whispering something. He entered the
thicket, going closer, hoping to hear what they were saying. Finally he
saw them clearly.

He looked at them in amazement. They were not talking, they were
kissing! Not just light kisses either, but a true French kiss like a man
and a woman, only they both seemed to be males. He saw that they were
opening each otherıs trousers and he got unequivocal proof that they
were both males: they started to jack each other. The boy pulled out his
T-shirt, baring his chest. The young man opened his jacket and shirt,
but without pulling them out, just exposing his chest. They started to
suck each otherıs nipples, taking turns, mutually caressing their sides
and bellies...

Martino looked on, astonished and fascinated, as the two aroused each
other. He watched as they lowered their trousers to their hips. The boy
had a cock of remarkable size, erect and throbbing, with a couple of
heavy balls easily visible underneath. This was the first time Martino
had seen a fully erect cock, other than his own. He couldnıt see how the
young man was endowed. Then the latter crouched in front of the boy,
whose turgid cock disappeared inside the young manıs mouth. Martino was
aware, thanks to the boyıs expression, that was enjoying it very much.
And it was as if the boyıs excitement was contagious. Martino also
became aroused and felt his own cock growing, hardening, pushing inside
his trousers.

In his fantasy he took the place of the boy, and that aroused him even
more. The boyıs cock appeared and disappeared between the lips of the
young man, who moved his head back and forth, slipping his hand between
his thighs and moving it frantically, wanking himself off. Martino,
almost without being aware of it, loosened the string of his tracksuit
trousers and lowered them onto his hips, freeing his cock from his jock,
and started to beat off without losing sight of what the other two were
doing.

After a time the boy moaned, ³Oh, shit... Iım near cumming...²

³No, wait!² the other whispered with an urgent tone.

The young man stood up, turned his back and bent over, offering his ass
to the boy who spat on his fingers, passed them between the otherıs
buttocks, then seized his cock with his hand, pointed it and pushed with
vigorous strokes, rapidly penetrating the other, who continued to
rapidly beat off. Finally he was all the way inside; the two bodies were
tightly united, and the boy began to pump strongly with a decided to and
fro motion. Martino continued to wank off, watching them from his
hideout.

He heard the young man moaning in excitement: ³Yes, do it, go on. Push
it all inside. Harder, harder... God what a bull you are! Yes, thatıs
the way, fuck me. Good... Oh, thatıs great!²

Martino could see that the young man was really enjoying it, and his
excitement was infectious. Once again he imagined himself in the young
manıs place... yes, it must be great! Even the expression on the boyıs
face showed an intense pleasure, so it was difficult to say which of the
two was enjoying their vigorous union more. The two bodies swayed to the
rhythm of the boyıs strokes. He was taking the other with increasing
force...

Suddenly Martinoıs orgasm came, very strong, so intense that it was hard
to keep from moaning aloud his own pleasure.

After the night when Martino spied those two men having sex in the park,
his secret life underwent a change. Now when he wanked off, he recalled
what he had seen, and was aroused much more than usual, because he
imagined himself first in the place of the boy, then in the place of the
young man.

Another change happened in his life. Now he looked at the men on the
street, or his friends at the university, or even more his companions at
the gym, with different eyes. Now he observed them carefully, looked
them up and down, trying to guess how they might be endowed. At times,
in the gym showers, he would glance at his companionsı cocks, but he
never saw them erect as he hoped. Then he imagined he was crouching in
front of them, making them hard, taking their cocks in his mouth, like
that young man did there in the park.... or that one of his friends was
crouching in front of him, and then his cock at once became hard,
demanding, and he had to hurry to the toilet, hiding his aroused state
with a towel, there to wank off, dreaming that in front of him knelt one
of his most handsome friends, naked, full of desire for him...

At last Martino understood why he never had a girlfriend, why girls
didnıt arouse or attract him. He liked men. This discovery didnıt
trouble him at all. He was a faggot. Good. But this new awareness,
though he accepted it quietly, made him burn with desire to find a
handsome man with whom he could make love.

He started to watch to see if, on his way back from the gym, he might
happen to meet someone in the park. But he never again saw either the
boy or the guy in the car, nor anyone else.

In the gym and at the University there were some guys who attracted him
more than others, but he knew how big the prejudice was against faggots.
Everyone talked only about girls, so he didnıt dare to expose himself.
He asked himself what faggots did to recognize each other, how they
could meet... The two guys in the park... but he never saw other guys
again... Was there a password? A secret?

He had to be content with mentally undressing the guys who appealed to
him most. He evaluated the baskets in the trousers, trying to guess what
they hid from his eyes. At times the basket was so evident that his
imagination could easily guess the size, the shape and the position. At
other times, to his chagrin, soft trousers hid everything and made it
look as if there was nothing there. But sometimes a certain movement of
the pelvis, a certain position of the legs, would outline promising,
exciting shapes even in soft trousers.

These days Martino no longer fantasized about detective or science
fiction plots, but only about erotic adventures with those who attracted
him. He imagined the most incredible situations, the most fanciful
approaches, but the final scene was always, more or less, what he saw in
the park. The hours and the place might be different, but he and ³the
other² were kissing, opening their clothes, and one of them, sometimes
he and sometimes the other, crouched to suck, then turned and was
fucked, and both of them oragasmed, orgasmed, orgasmed...

He saw a boy who looked like a hooligan, but very beautiful, and he
fancied he was a policeman, and that the other was shut in a cell, and
then he talked to him and persuaded him to do it with him. They
undressed, then sucked each other, then they fucked through the cell
bars...

He saw a young sailor he liked very much, and fancied they were at sea
during a tempest, and they fucked each other on the shipıs deck, swept
by gusts and wind-blown water; he fucked him while the young sailor, his
trousers at his ankles, held himself tight to the mainmast and urged him
to fuck harder...

He fancied he was a doctor in the army, performing induction physicals.
He fingered the genitals of any handsome recruit, and if the boy was
aroused, he locked the door, lowered his trousers and first made the boy
suck him for a good while, then he fucked the ass of the available young
man...

He saw a young Arab immigrant selling lighters on the street, and in his
fantasy he saw himself alone with the young man in an oasis. He raised
the Arabıs djellaba and saw that he was already aroused, so he knelt to
suck him, then he turned back, offering himself to the Arab and they
started to make love, with passion, amongst the palm trees, under the
burning sun...

He fancied doing it in the elevator with a very sexy neighbor. There was
a blackout and the elevator stopped between floors. The other noticed
his swelling fly and caressed it... and after a short while they both
were completely naked, and they were fucking with such vigorous thrusts
that the elevator rocked with their rhythm. When at last the elevator
was released and lowered to the nearest floor, there were his father and
all the neighbors, really worried, but they came out at ease and
smiling, and nobody could guess what they had just done...

But the days were passing and all this happened only in his mind.
Martino wanted a real male! He desired him with all his being.

Fantasies, fantasies... just fantasies. He wanked off, caressing his
nipples until they were hard, caressing all over his body, lingering on
his buttocks and teasing his hole with a finger dripping with his
saliva, dreaming it was a good cock...

He dreamed he was an Oriental prince with a harem of male slaves of all
races, all colors, beautiful and ready to satisfy his desires. 365
slaves, one for each day of the year...

He fancied he was the coach of a basketball team, and that he fucked all
the teamıs athletes, included the reserves. He had all them in a row,
and he fucked them one after the other, under the showers... He fancied
he was the dean at the university, the one in charge of freshman
admissions. He explained to them that, to be accepted, they had to have
sex with him. Those who gave him the most pleasure received full
scholarships, but the others had to pay tuition and books as usual...

He fancied being an explorer discovering a new tribe of very beautiful
savage men, all young and strong, who captured him, stripped him stark
naked, and then started having sex with him, one after the other. These
savage men liked sex with him so much that they chose him as their
chief, with the condition that he spend each day making love with one of
them in the special hut erected for him at the center of the village...

One day, while he was passing through the square outside the central
stationıs square, he saw in the window of a small souvenir shop a small
reproduction of Michelangeloıs David, about 10 inches tall. He admired
it and in the end decided to buy it. That David was some hunk!

When his father saw the little statue, there was none of the criticism
Martino expected about the way he was spending his money. He only said,
³Michelangelo! A great Italian, a great sculptor! His David should be
the physical model for all our youth - a sound, natural musculature. Not
swollen with steroids, like those poor idiot bodybuilders do!²

Martino, that same night, closed in his bedroom, started to wank off
looking at his David, while with his fingertips brushed the perfect
shape, and he dreamed of brushing the perfect muscles of a male who
undressed just for him. Martino kissed the little statue and talked to
it.

³David, will I never meet you? If I could, Iıd let you do whatever you
like with my body, Iıd be your devoted slave, your faithful lover... Ah,
if you could become real, now, here, and wanting to make love with me...
come into my bed, enjoy with me... then go back to be just a little
statue, waiting for the next time... And dad in his room, suspecting
nothing. It would be beautiful, wonderful. It would be a fairy tale.²

But it was just that, a fairy tale, only a fairy tale he was telling
himself.

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CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 2

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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 (really appreciated, be it positive or
negative), please e-mail at

andrej@andrejkoymasky.com

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