Date: Tue, 01 Aug 2006 09:34:25 +0200
From: A.K. <andrej@andrejkoymasky.com>
Subject: "A Fairy Tale?" 09/14 (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

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

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.

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

CHAPTER 9 - David's tale

On the following morning Martino woke up early. He took a long shower,
carefully shaved and combed himself, then began to dress. He debated
briefly whether to wear cologne, then decided to put just a drop back
his left ear. Perhaps that would be just a bit tempting. He wore his
jeans outfit - shirt, trousers and jacket - then grabbed his bike helmet
and went downstairs. His father didn't object when he told him he was
going to see a friend from university who lived up the mountain, and
that he would eat his supper there also.

"I'm not sure, but I'll probably be back home around midnight", he
ventured.

"Be careful on your way back, Martino", his father answered quietly.
"It's better to be an hour late than to end up in hospital."

He had carefully polished his bike the previous evening, so he took out
onto the street and started it up. He checked his watch. Yes, he would
be on time. He eased the bike away from the curb, not trying to lay
rubber like some of his friends. The town was lazily coming to life. The
sun was already warming him when he arrived at the iron bridge. He saw a
parked bike that should be David's. Then saw the young man leaning with
his back against the trunk of a nearby three. He checked his watch as he
approached. Ten minutes before nine. David greeted him with a wave and a
smile, as Martin shut off his engine and coasted to the curb.

David was wearing blue jeans, almost new, and a light blue T-shirt with
a drawing of an angel in red and white and the words "Los Angeles
Angels". His hair looked clean and soft, framing his wonderful face.
"Ciao", he said simply as Martino stopped near him. Pointing with a nod
of his head to the plastic carriers on the back of his bike he said, "I
brought everything."

"Good. Me too."

"I can see that", David answered with a laugh, pointedly looking him
over from head to toe several times. "It suits you, that jeans outfit.
It really suits you." Then simply, without a hint of guile, he added,
"But you were also great in the shower wearing nothing."

Just then his wristwatch beeped. "Exactly on time", he said. "Just
follow me."

As David moved through the streets at forty miles an hour Martino had no
problem following because there was no traffic. The sun reflected off
his helmet, white like his bike, a perfect match. The license plate
showed that David had bought the bike three years before, but it was
perfectly kept and still looked new. They followed the river on the
national road for about forty-five minutes, then David turned right
towards the mountain. Soon they were in the woods. Leaving the asphalt
they turned onto a well-kept dirt road, then turned again onto what was
not much more than a path. David went on confidently, adjusting his
speed to the roughness of the path. Clearly he had been this way many
times before. The tree cover thickened, then at last they reached a
small clearing where David stopped.

"The bikes stay here", he said. "We'll chain them to this tree."

He detached the luggage carriers and loosened their belts, then handed
one of them to Martino. They put them on their backs like two backpacks.
David took a narrow path and Martino followed. They walked in silence
for perhaps ten minutes, then abandoned even the path and walked
directly into the trees. After climbing for another five minutes they
reached a small clearing with the ruins of an old mountain house,
without roof or doors or windows. David entered the building and waved
to Martino to follow him over the threshold. There was a stone stairway
that still seemed to be sound, which they climbed to the second floor.
Two walls were still standing on side towards the mountain, only three
quarters of their previous height. On the valley side the floor ended on
the emptiness. The stone floor was no longer visible, being completely
covered by a soft layer of grass that almost made him think of a garden.
The forest lay below, and even farther down the silver ribbon of the
river wound through the valley. It was a breathtaking vision.

"Do you like here?"

"Wonderful!"

"And look at this grass. I take care of it. I pull out the weeds and the
dead leaves that the wind brings in. So the grass comes out nice and
soft. This is my kingdom! If you want, it's yours too, from now on."

They put down the carriers.

"Mine?" Martino asked, astounded.

"Yes. If that's what you want."

On impulse Martino hugged him, and David held him tightly. Their eyes
met, luminous, shining, clear. They kissed then, and the kiss was not
chaste but long and passionate, filled with the mutual longing they
could finally reveal. Martino felt the strong body of his companion warm
against his own, and he found it thrilling.

Slowly they separated, and David looked at his watch. "An hour and five
minutes. I could do this ride with my eyes closed."

"Have you really never brought anyone here?"

"No, never. You are the first. I felt that you... that you could come."

"Not even your brothers?"

"Not even them."

"How long have you been coming here?"

"Two years and, let's see, eight months. I discovered this on the day of
my nineteenth birthday."

"And no one ever comes here?"

"I've never seen a soul in all that time."

"It is really wonderful", Martino again said, looking around.

"Let's settle in now." David said.

He opened one of the carriers and pulled out a light blue nylon sleeping
bag with a full-length zipper so it could open out like a blanket. He
stretched it out on the grass in the center of the floor. Then he pulled
off his shoes and stood on the bag. He rummaged in the carrier and
pulled out a pocket radio, switched it on at very low volume and tuned
in a contemporary music station. Next came a tripod and a telescope that
he rapidly set in place. Martino looked on, peaceful but a bit dazed.

"During the day you can see the birds down by the river, and their
nests, and the fishermen, and a lot more. At night, if we put this
eyepiece on the telescope, we can see Saturn's ring. But I didn't bring
my star handbook, and besides, Saturn isn't visible this time of year."
David seemed to have finished his explanations, and he gestured to his
friend to sit down beside him.

"We'll get used to the place pretty soon. An hour from now it will be
warm enough for us to take off some of these clothes."

Martino put a hand on David's leg, and David covered it with his own.
"Tell me about you", he said cheerily. "I want to know everything."

Martino started to talk. He told him things he never told anyone. He
spoke about his childhood and other distant memories, about his
relationship with his father, their disagreements, frictions and
problems; about his fantasy, and without the least hesitation, about the
discovery of his own sexuality and the unleashing of his desires; about
the little statue of David, and his dreams, his powers, the use he made
of them, everything up to the time when he met David, the odd
coincidences he had noticed, and finally also his own desire for him.

While he was telling this last part, he realized it sounded like a fairy
tale, the fruit of his own fantasy, but he felt he had to tell it also.
His friend listened in silence, quiet and attentive.

At the end he simply said, "And that little statue, do you still have
it?"

"Yes, here it is", Martino said opening his pouch, taking it out and
handing it to him. David looked at it turning it between his hands with
curiosity. "It even looks like you", Martino added.

David said nothing and continued to turn the statue in his hands,
studying it. Then he put it on the grass and said, "But the original in
Florence is a lot nicer."

"So are you. You are much more beautiful."

David smiled, nodded and commented, "Everything is beautiful to one who
can truly see. And then... you haven't seen me naked like him. You don't
have your powers any more", he added with a mischievous smile.

Martino was tempted to say, "So undress!" But in spite of the intimate
kiss of a little while before, he didn't dare. Instead he said, "What
about you, David? Won't you tell me about yourself? I would like to know
everything about you, too."

"Of course you do, it's only natural", his friend said looking at him
with limpid eyes, and started to talk.

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

I was born in Florence, as you know. My father was not a stonecutter,
but a brocade weaver. Mum was a nurse. Lorenzo was born first, then me,
then Matteo. When I was a child my dad would sometimes on clear nights
take the three of us up into the hills to look at the stars. He used a
book to help him explain all the constellations to us. Usually Matteo
would fall asleep so that dad would have to carry him back in his arms.
Lorenzo came along because he was respectful and polite, but he really
wasn't very fond of stargazing. I was the one who was really fascinated.
I drank in all of dad's explanations, and I admired him so much. My
father could read the sky!

But I admired my dad also for other things too, especially his skill at
weaving those wonderful brocades. You told me about your fantasies, but
I had my own. When I saw those fantastic brocades I imagined I was a
Renaissance prince, like Lorenzo de' Medici, dressed in brocades and
surrounded by artists. And even my bed was covered with brocades and I
had twenty valets chosen from among the most handsome sons of Florence.

My dad passed away when I was ten years old. We found him slumped on his
chest on his hand loom. He was finishing a white brocade for a chasuble
that the city of Florence intended to offer to the Pope. Another weaver
had to finish it, and the Pope wore it. It was ninety per cent my dad's
work, including the original pattern. After that my brother Lorenzo
became like a dad to me and to Matteo. Now that dad was dead, mum had to
work to make a living. She would work at the hospital all day, and then
into the evenings going around giving injections, so she was almost
never home.

Lorenzo was a good boy, sensible, attentive, but I missed my dad.
Anyway, when I told him I wanted to continue to look at the stars, he
really put himself into it. He studied dad's little book of stars and
sometimes took me out onto the hills to look at them. He made some
terrible mistakes, but I didn't want him to feel bad, so I pretended not
to notice.

I was thirteen when another boy at school taught me to masturbate. Of
course I liked it, but it was a lot more fun doing it with him than
alone. This is how I realized that I liked boys. Girls were okay to talk
to, and even have as friends, but nothing more.

One night we were looking at the stars. Matteo wasn't feeling well so he
stayed home to sleep. I said to him, "Why is it that everyone, you too,
is always talking about women this, and women that, and I only feel
attracted to men? What should I do?"

He answered, "Not everyone who talks about women really does something
with them. You too can just talk about them."

"Talking isn't the only problem", I said. "Sooner or later it's going to
be a problem of doing."

"David", he said, "each person is the way he is. If you really continue
to be attracted only to men, then find one like you and have a happy
life. Just be careful, because people can be vicious. Don't tell anyone
you are turned on by other men, unless you think you can trust that
person with your life."

Then, when I was fifteen, mum passed away too. She got an infection at
the hospital, in a little cut that didn't seem important at all. In a
few days her whole body was swollen and they weren't able to rescue her,
so we were left completely alone.

Then Lorenzo found a job here, and all three of us decided to move
because we didn't want to be separated. Otherwise it would have been
Matteo to an aunt's place, me to an uncle's and Lorenzo here, far from
us. I looked for a job too so that Matteo could continue to study. He
really likes books. I didn't feel like bothering with books, I just
wanted to work.

We found a small apartment. All three of us sleep in the same room, so
in the evenings we can tell each other what happened during the day and
listen to what the brothers think of it. It helps us think more clearly.
Lying there on the bed in the dark, even the most delicate and intimate
matters come out without fear or shame or pain. The warm darkness, so
warm because of two brothers loving you, is a wonderful thing.

When I was sixteen I was working as a plumber. I was sent with an older
and more experienced companion to make repairs in a villa. The shower
was leaking, the kitchen sink needed to be replaced, among other
problems. The other guy told me to repair the shower while he worked in
the kitchen. It was only a matter of changing a washer, so I could
manage it by myself, and he didn't need my help at that moment.

I climbed up on a stool inside the shower stall to remove the shower
head. Then I pulled out the old washer, which was all eroded, and took
the right replacement out of my bag. I heard the bathroom door open, and
somebody came in and it sounded like he locked the door with a key. I
tried to warn him of my presence by getting down from the stool, but I
was wearing rubber-soled gym shoes and he didn't hear me. As I came out
of the shower stall I saw this handsome boy, he must have been about
nineteen. He had just taken off his bathrobe and was standing there
stark naked. Between his legs I saw this beautiful hard cock. I was
embarrassed, but fascinated too.

The boy wasn't upset at all. He said, "So you're in here? I thought you
were in the kitchen."

"That's my boss is in the kitchen..."

"And you are here."

"I was changing the washer on the shower head."

He noticed the way I was looking at him and said, "Have you never seen a
naked man before?"

"Yes, but you are so beautiful", I began.

"Thank you!" he said and walked towards me. He didn't even cover
himself, his erection was waggling as he walked.

I couldn't take away my eyes from that stiff rod. He put his hand
between my legs and felt that I was already turned on. He pulled down
the zipper of my work overalls, and underneath I was completely naked
because it the day was so hot. He pulled my dick out, fingering it,
looking straight into my eyes the whole time, and I let him do it. I was
surprised and embarrassed and aroused all at the same time. Then he
stopped and picked up his bathrobe and put it on. I was really feeling
bad now. I pushed my dick back into my pants and closed my zipper.

He came close to me again, and said, "I really like you, but it's too
risky right now, and besides, we don't have enough time. Come back
tonight, when you are off work. Ring the bell and tell the servant you
are a friend of Aldo, that's me. OK?"

I could barely whisper "Yes", and he left as quickly as he had come in.
All this was so fast and so unexpected that I just stood there like a
stunned ox. Finally I recovered my wits enough to finish my work, and I
went back out to help my boss. We went back to the shop, I changed my
clothes, went again to the villa and rang the bell.

His mother opened the door "Oh, yes", she said, "Aldo is waiting for
you."

Aldo arrived "Come on", he said quietly. I followed him up a winding
stairway that creaked loudly, and we arrived in a kind of attic room in
the lowest part of the villa. "This is the old game room, that we used
when we were children. We will be safe here", he said, already starting
to undress me. I was aroused but apprehensive, and he felt it. "Don't
worry", he said, "they never come up here. Anyway we would hear them.
You must have noticed how noisy the staircase is. We would have time to
dress again if we heard anything. Now hurry and undress me!"

On the floor there were two old mattresses, stacked on top of each
other. When we were both naked we laid down on them and he said, "What
do you like to do?"

"Well, I don't know", I answered. "This is my first time."

"You never done this before?" he asked almost astounded.

"Well, a friend and I used to jerk each other off, until about a year
ago."

"Then I'll have to teach you everything", he said with a smile. He
hugged me, stroked me, pushed me down and lay on top of me.

I liked it so very much. Then he kissed me - and what a kiss it was, for
a greenhorn like me! His hand was on my hard rod, slowly slipping the
skin back. I closed my eyes and relaxed, thinking of nothing. Then I
felt his lips on my dick-head, then he took it all in his hot mouth and
started bobbing up and down. Meanwhile one of his hands was rummaging
between my butt cheeks, and the other was on my nipples. I was terribly
excited. My legs started to tremble, and my body arched up. I felt tense
as a bow and then, suddenly, I unloaded inside his mouth. I was barely
aware of the fact that he was swallowing all.

At the end he told me, "You came fast."

"I'm sorry", I murmured, "it was way too great!"

"Good, now you do it to me."

I complied without a second thought. I felt it was the least I could do
to pay him back for the pleasure he had just given me. He needed more
time than me to cum, but at last I gave him an orgasm and he was happy.

Afterwards we caressed each other for a while, then he said, "If you
come tomorrow evening too, I'll teach you more."

"I'd love to."

"By the way, uh, what's your name?" he asked as we were going
downstairs.

That night, in bed, I told my brothers I had made love with Aldo.

"Your first time?" Matteo asked me.

"Yes."

"I still haven't done it, with a girl or with a boy either", Matteo
said.

"You're only thirteen, it's too soon", Lorenzo replied. "Wait until
you're older, it will be better." Then he turned to me. "Was it good,
David?"

"Yes."

"Very good, then!" Lorenzo commented.

Little by little, Aldo taught me everything. He took me very gently, and
didn't hurt me, maybe because his wasn't as thick as mine. Then he made
me take him. I liked Aldo, but after a while I felt I was missing
something. I wasn't really satisfied. I told that to Lorenzo, as usual
in the night darkness of our room.

He asked me some questions, then concluded, "I think that what you are
missing is love. With Aldo it's just fun, nothing more. Sex only becomes
really beautiful when there is love in addition to the physical
pleasure. Don't worry, love will come later, possibly with another guy,
when you are ready, when it's the right time. Just live the story you
are in now. Be honest with yourself and with him, and don't worry about
anything else. Then when love does come, this story, and perhaps others
you might have, will still be precious."

Aldo and I continued to meet for fifteen months, then we gradually
parted. The novelty had worn off, and we gradually lost interest. There
was nothing else between us, so it all ended quietly. Until I was
eighteen, there were no more stories.

Then when I was eighteen, I had to go by train to Venice where the
company I worked for had to do some installations. I went to the station
one evening to catch the train. I was supposed to meet a workmate, but I
couldn't find him. When the train left, I walked through all the cars
and looked into all the compartments, but there was no trace of him. The
train wasn't crowded and I saw several empty compartments, so finally I
went into one, shut off the light and lay down on the seats.

At the first stop someone opened the door. Two boys came in and sat down
in front of me, two soldiers on leave going back home. They were feeling
happy and carrying on a lively conversation. My plans for sleep went out
of the window. One of them had a rather square face, massive features,
and an "I know it all" attitude. He wasn't ugly, but he didn't appeal to
me either. The other was another story. His face was not remarkable but
not unattractive either. I especially noticed his eyes, which were
bright and lively, noticing everything. They talked about life in the
barracks, about girls, and about the barracks again. They laughed a lot.
I couldn't sleep, so to pass the time, I listened. Mario, the less
handsome one, was the more talkative. He peppered every sentence with
swearwords. The other one, Benedetto, nodded a lot and didn't talk much,
but he had a sense of humor that I really liked.

"... and then I say to the corporal. ^ÌYou fucking prick, you're not
really going to give me a punishment because of that shit-face
broken-ass Bianchi, are you?' And that asshole says, ^ÌYou bet I will,
and I'll double it if you don't shut your foul mouth!'"

"Which corporal, that Mister Know-It-All?", Benedetto asked.

"Yeah, that's the one. What a fucking loser." And so it went.

After a while their talk was boring me. I closed my eyes and tried to
sleep, but I couldn't. I was lucky though, because two stations later
Mario got off and only Benedetto was left. And I get a hard-on. Instead
of hiding it, I spread my legs and shifted forward a little to show off
the swelling in my trousers. Benedetto lit a cigarette, looked at me,
but said nothing. But he was looking back and forth between my face and
my crotch. I made it twitch a couple of times while he was looking
there. He carefully put out his cigarette and switched off the light so
that only the blue night light was on. Then he closed the curtains and
sat directly in front of me. He spreads his legs and looked at me again.

Pretty soon I could guess the size of his dick from the bulge in his
uniform pants. His eyes were shining. I smiled at him. He stroked his
hand over his basket and looked back at me. I stretched out my legs
crossing them with his. Then Benedetto bent forward and put his hand on
my thigh, and smiled. I shuddered and pressed my legs against his. He
pushed his hand up towards my basket, looking in my eyes the whole time.
I smiled at him again. His hand brushed my swollen package, groping it.
I shuddered again. He slipped his knees between my spread legs, opened
my fly, pulled it out and took it all into his hot mouth. His hands
fingered my balls, then slid up and under the waistband of my Jockeys
and caressed my butt. Then he moved his hands up and slid them under my
shirt and underwear so he could caress my belly and chest, lingering on
my nipples.

My hands began to search his body also. I opened two buttons of his
shirt so I could caress him, one hand on his chest and the other on his
back where it was bent to press his groin against mine. I brushed first
one nipple, then the other, and he shuddered. He stood up and opened his
pants. I pushed them down, and his military boxers at the same time, and
uncovered the most beautiful dick, thick and hard, and then his big
balls. I bent down and licked them, then sucked them in one at a time,
the way Aldo had taught me. I pulled up his shirt so I could lick his
belly, and then I pulled the skin cover back from the tip of his mace
and teased the purple mushroom with my tongue. Finally I started to suck
him, while I lowered his trousers and his boxers so I could play with
his butt and find his little hole. I could feel him trembling all over,
and he began to stroke my hair.

Suddenly we heard the ticket collector two or three compartments away.
We hurriedly tidied ourselves up, and he switched on the light and again
sat in front of me with a knowing smile. After a short while we had to
show our tickets. As soon as the conductor was gone he switched off the
light and came back to me. He pushed me down on my back on the seats and
opened my trousers, seizing my still hard member. He knelt and began to
suck it feverishly. I pulled up my shirt, baring my chest, and pushed my
trousers down to my knees.

Then he spoke for the first time. "Wait a moment", he said, and pulled
something out of his pocket. He moved to the door, and I heard a click.
"That's done", he said with satisfaction, and pocketed whatever he had
just used. He came back towards me and dropped his trousers.

"What did you do?" I asked him, taking his still hard penis between my
hands.

"I blocked the door, so we are safe", he said, opening his shirt and
uncovering a beautiful and strong chest.

"What if somebody tries to come in?"

"If he is a passenger, he will think that the railway crew shut it and
will keep going. If he's crew, he'll be able to open it, but we'll have
time to dress first." This he said while pulling his bag down from the
parcel shelf. He opened his bag and took out some civilian clothes.

"What are you doing now?" I asked, somewhat taken aback.

"This is for the train crew, so I can say I shut the door so I could
change. Here's the proof. It works. I've done it before, and I never had
a problem."

"You do it often in a train?"

"Fairly often", he said with a shrewd little smile. He lay on top of me
and brushed his body against mine and kissed me. Our erections were
pushing against each other and pulsing strongly. "What do you like to
do?" he asked.

"Everything."

"Excellent! Then you go first."

We stood up, and he turned his body towards the seats. Grabbing onto the
iron bar of the parcel shelf and he offered his ass to me. I liked him a
lot, and I was really hard, so I grabbed his waist and tried to
penetrate him.

"Do you have some gel?" he asked.

"No"

"Then wait", he said and again rummaged in his pockets. He pulled out a
tube, and took a long time slicking up my hard dick. What a sensation!
Then he lubed up his hole, and finally I took him. I entered him
smoothly and it was great. I held on him and started to plunder his
insides. I came rather soon. He turned, stroked me, French kissed me,
and gently bit my nipples. Then we swapped positions. His tool was
thick, and at first hurts a little, but the caresses he was giving me on
my most sensitive spots made me forget the slight pain, and pleasure
soon overcame it. His penetration lasted longer than mine, and I enjoyed
it immensely.

Afterwards, after we put everything back in order, he unlocked the door
and sat in front of me. We talked. I told him I enjoyed it very much,
and that I would like to meet him again. He wanted it too, but it was
clearly difficult, if not impossible, for us to meet again. About ten
days later I got a letter from him. He told me that one of his best
friends, also gay, lived in my same town, and in his opinion his friend
and I would like each other. He asked permission to send his friend my
address, and was asking his friend the same thing. This made me curious,
so I answered him that I had no problem with this.

That is how I met Claudio. He was my last boyfriend, the last before I
met you. He is three years older than me, than us. He is a fashion
designer, not one of those who invent new clothes, but the kind that
make up the models, the prototypes I guess. He's very good at his job.
But our story was dull. It wasn't good, it wasn't bad. I don't know how
to explain it to you, but it was something like... I don't know. He did
it mechanically, I mean he had no enthusiasm. It is not he didn't like
it, but it was almost more pleasurable to just talk with him than it was
being in bed. Take away the ^Ìalmost.' So anyway, after two years it
ended for... for loss of interest from both of us. There were never any
sparks between Claudio and me. Maybe it could have happened with
Benedetto, I don't know. Claudio was a little like Aldo. He was good in
bed, I won't say he wasn't. He had a good body, and... but more than
ever I felt that our relationship was missing something important..."

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CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 10

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

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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