Date: Wed, 28 Sep 2016 15:25:35 +1300
From: Guillaume Bacharene <bacharene@gmail.com>
Subject: My Lecture Tour - Part 7

Guillaume Bacharene

bacharene@gmail.com

This story is a bit of fact and fiction although based on some key actual
details. Some names have been changed for privacy protection purposes. The
mixture of fact and fiction is what good writing is all about in my
view. And, one has to write, above all, for the reader. A writer is an
agent or channel to get the words right and tell a wonderful story to which
readers can relate.

My romance with the US goes back to the early 1980s. While there are
exceptions as there are all over the world, I was totally seduced by the
general niceness of people and especially, the beautiful, confident and
sexy men who were totally enthralled by my accent and my brain. But also,
it was the genuine openness and way they expressed thoughts and feelings. I
had never had my ego so exquisitely massaged the same way ever. So, I am
1.80m tall, worked out and had what others described as "model looks" to
the extent that when I was doing my first masters degree I had been offered
a modelling contract with a major fashion house in Paris. I thought about
it all, the money and travel, but figured I had too many brains to be
treated like a glorified clothes' horse and as some superficial entity who
had "the looks" but nothing else. Added to that was what I saw as bullshit
"glamour". I turned it down to pursue an academic career instead.

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My US Lecture Tour and Master Classes - Part Seven

It was 1983 and I was to have four weeks in the US doing a series of
lectures and master classes based one some research I had done. It doesn't
really matter what is was all about now but it was held to be extremely
important. It was an offer that came out of nowhere really. Sometimes, the
powers that be of the universe seem to have a plan for us. This was to be
no exception. I was able to negotiate really generous terms with a week in
Honolulu on the way and then sessions in San Francisco, Chicago, New York,
Washington DC, New Orleans, Los Angeles and San Diego.

I indicated earlier about my first touch with America being the most
amazingly good thing for one's ego. In each of these cities I was to have
an experience, which could read like a romance novel. It was heady and all
culminated some years later with me meeting the big love of my life, a
beautiful American. After 30 years we are still together. But that's
another complete story I might also tell one day!

San Diego

San Diego was a real surprise. I knew little about it other than the fact
it was a naval town with a huge base. However, it is also a lovely city
with a sort of beach to canyon and desert kind of vibe and a very casual,
cruisy kind of scene overall.

I had been given the use of an apartment off University Avenue, which
turned out to be very convenient. There were many bars in the area and
those I sampled had a very preppy kind of clientele with mainly college
boys and young professionals.  Anyway, after a busy day of master classes
with a lecture the next morning at 11:00am and a free day after that before
I headed to LA, I decided I needed to get something to eat and have a drink
to unwind. I wasn't terribly hungry so opted for eggs benedict and some
fries at a pleasant garden restaurant I came across. It was efficient,
professional and very reasonable with the usual flawlessly gorgeous
servers, male and female. America really had a mould and a formula for such
physical beauty and perfection.

My server was called Marc, and he flirted shamelessly but then I noticed he
did it will all his customers. I figured that his tip take would be huge. I
certainly showed my appreciation. He had done an impeccable job all
through. Marc shook my hand as I left and thanked me. I would not have been
at all surprised had he felt me up and slipped a 'meet me' note. He didn't.

After I had eaten, I meandered along University Avenue checking out shops
and galleries and came across a bar which looked classy and not too
crowded. It had a high bar with shelves and stools in front and all around
the walls and a backroom pool table. I got a Calistoga mineral water and a
glass of white wine and found a stool in a corner of the bar, facing out to
the street. It meant I didn't have people pushing past me constantly. There
were another four stools free next to me.

All of the customers were early to late twenties I decided, all well
dressed, well groomed and handsome. They virtually all seemed to be
drinking Corona beer with a wedge of lime. It appeared to be the standard
drink, wherever I went for that particular group of twenty somethings.

And then he walked in. The entrance area had a light over the door,
probably for safety reasons so anybody coming in was sort of in the
spotlight for a moment at least. I did a double take. He was tall and slim
but filled out his shirt really well with a nice chest and upper arms and a
really nice neck with a sexy dimple where his collarbones met. He had
longish dark blond hair with lighter streaks, worn slightly wild, and blue
eyes. He scanned the room and looked straight at me. Somebody he knew came
up and spoke with him and they had an animated conversation for a few
minutes. All the while I noticed he kept looking in my direction. I turned
around to look at some drawings behind me. His voice brought me back to
reality.

"Hello. Would you like some company? You are all alone in your own section
of the bar." He was certainly beautiful close up as well.

"I'm Robert," he continued, holding out his hand. We shook.

"Well, Robert, that is so sweet and considerate of you. And, I'm
Guillaume."

"Guillaume. What a lovely name and I can tell you are not American by your
so sexy accent. Where are you from and what brings you to our fair city?"

"I'm French but spend a lot of time all over the world for various research
and teaching things," I replied, having developed an almost standard set of
responses for what had become a very frequent series of questions posed.

"I'm in America doing a lecture tour which has taken me around the
country. San Diego now and LA and that's it. I have already been to
Honolulu, San Francisco, NYC, Washington DC and New Orleans."

Robert sat down on the stool next to me and ordered a glass of champagne. I
noticed his two middle buttons on his jeans were undone. Without thinking I
said:

"Robert, I couldn't help but notice; two of your fly buttons are open."

"I know Guillaume but it is deliberate. It pays to advertise!"

That was certainly a new one for me. His champagne arrived and we clinked
glasses.

"To a wonderful evening."

"So you are advertising what exactly?" I asked. He laughed.

"Availability I guess! And it is working it seems Guillaume. You noticed
and I am available!"

I laughed as well. I really like his confident, witty, friendly, easy
manner and warmth.

"So Guillaume, how many hearts have you left broken on your trail through
the US? Good looking men like you tend to do that."

I smiled.

"You absolute charmer you and in any case, I bet exactly the same applies
to you. You certainly got my attention as you walked in."

"Well, Guillaume, this is going well. I just came for a drink and here I am
spending a wonderful time with a delightful and terribly sexy man from
France!"

I returned:

"And I with a really beautiful and sexy man from San Diego."

We clinked glasses again.

"In fact," Robert began "my family origins through my dad are Latvian.  My
Mom is Lithuanian."

"That explains your stunning looks Robert. The very best of the Baltic!"

He laughed and we again clinked glasses.

"Where on earth will this mutual admiration society end up Guillaume?"

"Well, Robert, let's just let things flow, shall we; let them take their
natural course?"

Robert worked as an accounts manager for a publishing company and was well
read, highly intelligent and a lot of fun. He had done a BA and MA at
UCLA. He was 29 but looked 18.

We had another drink and Robert's hands ended up on my knees as he moved
closer.

"You are such a charming man, Guillaume." He leaned forward and gave me a
kiss on the cheek.

"You are such a charming man, Robert." I leaned forward and gave him a kiss
on both cheeks.

"Typical Frenchman getting me all hot and bothered."

We finished our drinks and he said:

"Let's go." It was a simple statement with no plan attached. Outside on the
street he just started walking and I tagged along. That was the plan:
Robert walking and me tagging along.  We walked a short way and turned off
on a side street, arriving at a house set back a little from the
street. Robert unlocked the door. It was his house.

"Welcome to my parlour, Guillaume." The house was beautifully decorated,
minimalist and sleek. I complimented Robert. His taste and decor reminded
me of Markus.

"Make yourself comfortable Guillaume."

His living room was lit with side lighting making a very intimate and
beautiful setting. Music began to play, Erik Satie's 'Gymnop‚die' to be
intermingled with Camille Saint-Sa‰ns 'Danse Macabre' and others, two of
my preferred French composers and much loved compositions. Robert certainly
knew how to up the ante in the charm department.

"Do you like champagne, Guillaume? I have some Pol Roger on ice. It's
really all I drink. I have to slum in in the bars though!"

This really was becoming a pattern, Pol Roger being a connecting force. I
smiled inwardly yet again.

"Pol Roger is my fave," I said enthusiastically. "On this trip, much has
been drunk in every port of call!"

"All as part of the trail of broken hearts. Perfect choice then." Robert
brought in the Pol Roger, an ice bucket and two elegant flutes. He opened
and poured, handing me a flute and coming to sit next to me.

"To us, to Guillaume and Robert." We clinked flutes.

I leaned over and kissed him, our tongues aflame, with both passion and the
effervescence of Pol Roger. Between sips of Pol Roger we continued to kiss
and this we maintained for well over 30 minutes. It was so beautiful,
sensual, erotic because it carried its own completeness and perfection.

Robert broke away and disappeared. I heard water running. He came back
smiling.

"I am running us a bath. I love baths and want us to have one together as
the first real intimacy between us. Come."

Robert took the Pol Roger and I followed. He placed it beside the bath on a
low table and then took my hand, leading me to his bedroom. He began slowly
to undress me and I him and within a short time, both erect, we held each
other close, skin to skin and kissed with even greater urgency, admiring
each other's naked beauty. Robert was truly beautiful. His cock was almost
identical to mine, smooth and neatly cut. He looked like an innocent angel.

But, the bath called, all fragrant with cardamom, thyme and lavender. I
stepped in, my back to the rear. Robert climbed in and leaned back against
me. I held him close, caressing his lean body and kissing his neck and
ears. He moaned with each touch. I ran my fingers around his balls, pubes
and the creases of his upper thighs where they met the private Robert. He
turned his head so we could kiss as his hands kneaded my thighs. My hand
moved to his cock. He began to shudder and moan. After about 20 minutes, he
raised himself slightly, reached back for my cock and slowly sat down
again, my rampant cock threading neatly and without hindrance deep inside
him. The warm water relaxed him and the suds acted as lubricant. He leaned
back and I worked his nipples and cock as he started to fuck my cock in a
gentle rocking motion, buoyed by the water. It was intensely sensual and
erotic again. I was so turned on I had to whisper to him to take it easy as
I was close to shooting.

"I want you to Guillaume. It makes us complete."

He began with greater vigour as I jacked his cock. He actually came
momentarily before me, his shudders sending tidal waves around the tub, and
collapsed back in my arms. He ran more warm water and we returned to the
Pol Roger while I held him close and kept caressing him.  Eventually with
the Pol Roger done we got out and dried each other off before collapsing
into his bed. He fell asleep, enveloped in my arms, breath caressing my
neck. It had been a very satisfying ending to a busy day.

Next morning after much more caressing and kissing, we sucked each other
off, and after breakfast, he walked me home. It was barely 10 minutes from
his house. He had the day off work in fact but still had a meeting and so I
told him I would be cooking us dinner at my apartment which was well set
up.  He could arrive when it suited. My 11:00am session would be over by
1:00pm and the limo would bring me home.

By the time Robert arrived around 4:00pm a casserole of turkey with ginger,
cardamom and cloves was sending delicious aromas throughout the apartment
and into the street. I had prepared ready to cook caramelised carrots and
baby peas and seared garlic potatoes with a green salad and had baked mini
pear tarts for dessert. I had bought more Pol Roger and a nice Chablis.

"I could track you from a mile away, Guillaume. The whole neighbourhood is
licking its collective lips from the aromas wafting about from your
kitchen! Le tout San Diego is saying, M. Guillaume has arrived!"

I kissed him. Playfully he started flicking his tongue around my face. My
cock sprang up. Robert had an art to all he did.

He had brought some artisan chocolates and looked amazingly beautiful in
black dress pants, a blue open shirt and a tailored charcoal jacket. He
took his jacket off and washed his hands ready to help. I got him to set
the table, which ended up like something from Vogue Living. Then, Pol Roger
in hand, we went out to the lanai, which looked out over the valley. I put
my arm around Robert who leaned his head on my shoulder.

"This is almost perfection," he said softly.

"Almost?" I answered.

"Yes because you will soon be leaving. However, I promise not to be
morose. We will just have to see what might be possible. I've become
extremely fond of you, Guillaume."

I kissed his eyes.

"And I of you Robert."

Well, dinner was a leisurely one. Afterwards, Robert asked if there was a
tub in the apartment. There was and he went and ran it for us. We did a
repeat performance of the previous night and followed up in the morning
with sucking each other off. I was due to leave the day after next so we
were determined to make the most of the time we had. We certainly did.


Robert insisted on taking me to the airport. In those days it was a pretty
ghastly place in San Diego, largely a commuter place. He was surprised they
had decided to fly me up saying it was so much easier to drive. He would
have driven me.

But, we found a quiet corner until my flight was called. As the time got
closer my emotions really started to run away. Tears started to run
uncontrollably and I had a terrible lump in my throat. Robert was the
same. We hugged.

"We both need to be strong my sweet Guillaume."

When my flight was called he came with me to the gate. We kissed cheeks,
French style. He waved, a vision of sheer elegance and beauty.



Epilogue:

Robert and I kept in frequent touch. He was a great correspondent. About a
year after we had met, I received a letter from him telling me he had
contracted HIV and was moving back to his family in New Jersey as things
were rather grim.  Thereafter it was a very sad spiral. Less than a year
after that, I received a card from his sister announcing that Robert had
died. It was very tearful news. I still remember him, a truly sweet and
beautiful man, with the greatest affection. The Robert's of this world make
it a much better place.