From: "A.K." <andrej@andrejkoymasky.com>
Sent: Thursday, October 25, 2007 11:27am
Subject: My Ten Models 12/12 (Encounters)

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MY TEN MODELS
by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2007
written on November 14, 1993
translated by the author
English text kindly revised by John

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USUAL DISCLAIMER

"MY TEN MODELS" 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 12 - The horoscope was right

Andrew and I didn't have sex. We just caressed, touched, gave each other
some light kisses. He listened to me, then told me about himself. We
were almost like two friends searching, one in the other, more for
comfort than enjoyment.

It was already one when I asked, "Andrew, do you want me to call you a
taxi?"

"You want me to go?"

"No... I was just saying it for you..."

"Nobody is waiting for me at home. Will it annoy you is I stay? If I
spend the night here with you?"

"No, on the contrary. I'm feeling good with you."

"The same here. You're different from the others. We can talk some more,
or sleep. Do you have a bed here?"

"Yes, in the other room. Do you want to come?"

"Sure."

We laid on the bed. We embraced. It was good feeling his nakedness
against mine, free of an obligation to fuck... We resumed talking,
lightly caressing each other. I told him again about Henry. He asked me
some questions but he was mainly listening.

I don't know what time it was when we fell asleep. When I woke up it was
already high morning. Andrew was still sleeping and his face had the
sweet and serene abandon of innocence. I lightly caressed him. He opened
his eyes and smiled.

"Good morning, Andrew." I said.

"Morning, Shaun."

"Did you have a good sleep?"

"A wonderful one. How about you?"

"The same."

He felt I had a hard-on. So he said, "I would like making love with you,
Shaun."

"I too..." I answered and bent on him to kiss him.

He returned my kiss and we gradually started making love, slowly, with
gentleness. We sucked, took each other, without needing a word,
spontaneously, as if we had known each other for ever. And then we laid
down, embraced, relaxed, continuing to caress each other.

"Are you feeling hungry, Andrew?"

"A little..."

"If you feel like, we can go out for breakfast."

"Alright."

We put on our clothes. Just before going out, I handed him the fifty
pounds.

"No, please... I don't... It has not been just a fuck. I really wanted
to make love with you..."

"But you spent all the night with me, for me. I should give you even
more than that."

"I felt so good with you... don't give me money, please. Don't spoil
everything. You and I will probably never meet again, I think, but...
let's remember this encounter as a moment of friendship."

I felt he was sincere, therefore I didn't insist. We went downstairs and
I offered him a good breakfast.

He looked at the clock on the wall. "I have to go now, unhappily.
Listen, I was thinking... if you can't talk with your Henry, if you are
not able to tell him, why don't you write to him? Give him a letter.
And... take the risk. If he is a real friend, at worst he will say no to
you, but without breaking your friendship. And everything will stay as
it is now. Will you do it? Will you write him?"

"Yes, possibly..."

"Anyway, best wishes... sincerely."

"Thank you, Andrew."

"Don't mention it. With you I've spent one of my best nights. And also a
wonderful awakening. Thank you, Shaun. Goodbye."

I looked at him going to the underground station. He turned to wave his
hand at me, and went down the stairs.

I went back home. I started immediately to write the letter for Henry. I
don't know how many sheets I have torn up. At the end I surrendered and
gave up writing it. I went to lie down on my bed. On that bed where
Andrew had been the first and only one who made love with me. On that
bed where I could have had Henry... my Henry...

I looked at my watch - six more hours before he came. He would
undress... I would paint... we would talk, but not of the only thing
that I really had at heart. Why was I such an idiot? Why was I not able
to speak out, to tell him?

I went again out for lunch. I didn't feel like cooking. Time seemed to
never pass. I went back home. Took a shower, not so much because I
needed it, but just to pass the time. I dressed again and went to the
atelier to look at the painting of Henry that I was doing.

He was half stretched on a meadow, under an ancient crabbed olive tree,
as if he was waiting for something to happen, for someone to come...

The door bell rang. I went to open feeling my heart drumming very
strongly. He came in He had with him the bags with his photographic
equipment.

"Hi, Henry, I was waiting for you. Why did you bring your cameras?"

"An idea. I'll tell you later. How are you?"

"Fine, thanks."

We went to the atelier.

"Do you feel like making me a coffee. Shaun?"

"Sure. Come to the kitchen, while I do it."

He followed me. "You know, Shaun, I was thinking that I would like to
start a career as a photographer of artistic nudes. The same model, who
I photograph and you paint... What do you think?"

"It could be interesting. We can find the models together, you can fit
out my atelier as your shooting set..."

"Yes, good. But... I would like to do first some tests, and... and I
would like you to be my first model."

"I?"

"Yes, you, sure After all I'm sitting naked for you. Can't you also
undress for me?"

"Well... yes... yes of course..." I answered hesitantly.

"I haven't yet seen you naked..."

"You could be disappointed..." I said with a smile.

"I really don't think so. Anyway it's worth trying."

"As you like."

"Does it bother you undressing for me?"

"No... not at all."

"So I too can finally see you naked." Henry said, his eyes smiling while
he was sipping his coffee.

I said nothing We were looking at each other. He put down his coffee
cup and I mine.

"Can we start?" he asked, standing up.

We went back to the atelier. Henry took off the bags his equipment.

"This time, to start with, it's your turn to undress." He stated.

"As you like..." I answered feeling excited and embarrassed, and started
to undress.

Henry was looking at me, at times through the lens, at times directly.
He moved the spotlights. When I was totally naked, he smiled me.

"How do you feel, you being the model for once?"

"Somewhat embarrassed."

"I was too, at the beginning. You have a really beautiful body."

"You think so?"

"Yes..." he said looking at me from head to toe.

And all of a sudden my mind was lucid and I was master of myself,
self-confident.

"You undress too, Henry." I said.

"Now?" he asked slightly surprised.

"Yes, now." I answered more and more confident.

He put the camera down and started to undress, looking at me once in a
while. And, as I knew would happen, as he was undressing I got aroused
and got my usual hard-on.

When he was naked, I said, "Look at me. Do you see? Do you see what
effect you have on me each time you undress?"

He looked between my legs, serious, and nodded, "I think... I think that
your nakedness is now having the same effect on me." He said quietly
while his member was indeed gradually stiffening.

"And do you know why?" I asked, moving a step towards him.

"I think I know, Shaun... I think I know..." he answered almost
trembling.

I took one more step. "Tell me why..." I then said looking in his eyes.
"Tell me the reason." I insisted stretching an arm and seizing his hand.

"Because... because I desire you, Shaun!"

"You desire me? And I, then?" I asked.

"You... as well?" he hesitantly asked.

"Doesn't it seem obvious you?" I said with a smile and gently pulled him
towards me.

"Shaun, I..." he murmured but I embraced him, and kissed him on his
mouth.

I felt him shudder. I shuddered with him.

And finally I whispered, "I am in love with you, Henry. I am crazily in
love with you..."

"Oh, Shaun... it seems impossible... I too am in love with you! Since
the first day I came here, and you smiled at me... Good Lord! I love
you, Shaun!"

He held me tightly to him and we kissed again. We stayed there, standing
in the centre of the atelier, clinging and almost cuddling each other,
kissing with great emotion.

"Come here, Henry... on my bed..."

"Yes..."

We would have been looked funny, half-embracing, walking almost askew,
hastily, risking stumbling on each other's feet. But we didn't want to
part. We reached the bed and went on it still enlaced, laid down
tightening our embrace, intertwining our limbs, feeling with pleasure
each other's erection.

"Good Lord! You love me!" Henry panted.

"Yes, love. And you love me.. and it took so long for both of us to
understand it and tell each other!" I said, happy and moved.

"You are talking of love, right? Not just of desire..." Henry asked me
in a low voice.

"Of course. Also desire, but above all love."

"Yes... I desire you too, Shaun, and love you. My god, how wonderful it
is! How happy I feel! So, then... you want to be my man!"

"Certainly. And you mine..."

"Sure!"

We lay there, tightly clasping one to the other almost as if we were
afraid of losing each other after having finally met; afraid of being
separated now that we were truly together.

"Shaun?"

"Yes, love?"

"Nothing... It's just than now saying your name has a new taste."

"I love you, Henry."

"Yes... say it again."

"I love you, I love you, I love you!"

"Shaun, my man..."

"Yes, love."

It might seem odd, but there we were, enlaced, tight, to kiss, to feel
each other, to say meaningless words to each other for a very long time
but filled with happiness. We were really way out of time and space.

Then our embrace gradually became less tight, because we started to
caress each other, to explore each other bodies, to kiss everywhere. Our
mutual desire was increasing, strengthening, and his desire was feeding
mine, and my desire was nourishing his own. We were hungry, thirsty each
one for the other, for the other's love, for the other's body.

"I love you, Shaun!"

"I love you, Henry!"

We were never tired to repeat it, to read in each other's eyes the
happiness, the desire, the passion.

"It seems me like a dream having you here, Henry..."

"Yes, it's true... I was afraid it would never happen."

"You are so beautiful, Henry!"

"You are beautiful! You're totally beautiful!" he said and went down to
nibble one of my nipples.

"Oh, Henry, I want to be yours! All yours... only yours!"

"Yes, my love, and I too."

Our caresses, our kisses were becoming more and more intimate.

"Take me, Shaun, make me yours!"

"Yes, my love, and then you will take me, won't you? You will make me
yours too, won't you?"

"Sure Henry, I want you."

"And I want you. Nothing and nobody will part us, that's right, isn't
it?"

"Absolutely!"

And finally we united. Gestures made on other occasions, with other
people, seemed now to be new and different. It was as if it was
happening for the first time in my life, because they weren't gestures
inspired by desire, by passion, though they were also present, but
inspired by the reciprocal love that we could express for the first
time, that we were experiencing together for the first time.

If on that distant night, in Florence, when Giovanni penetrated me and I
discovered my gay dimension and the beauty of the physical relationship
between two men, now thanks to Henry, I was discovering the dimension of
love and the beauty of the love relationship between two males.

Possibly without Giovanni there wouldn't have been Henry, but without
Henry there wouldn't have been this fulfilment of my life. If to
penetrate or be penetrated by one of my past models had been to
experience the pleasure and the enjoyment of intimate physical contact,
now to penetrate or be penetrated by Henry was to experience the true
and deep sense of the union that makes of two beings one unique flesh
and one unique soul.

I was in the seventh heaven. And after having experienced mutual
ecstasy, just staying there, still enlaced on the bed, was an experience
of a sublime beauty.

"Shaun, I'm feeling so happy!"

"I too, my love."

"But it's late... I have to go."

"Already? I'll feel lonely..."

"You're telling me!" Henry sighed.

"I would have you always here, now, always with me."

"I too, Shaun. I was happy doing my army service, before. But now..."

"How long, still?"

"In the army? Ten more months."

"My god! Ten eternal months? They will never pass..."

We had to part. I took my car and saw him to his barracks. We could just
stealthily squeeze each other's hand before he got out.

"I would like to kiss you, Shaun..."

"Yes. We can do so just in our thoughts, unhappily ..."

"God, what a pain! And for two days I will not be off duty..."

"Good lord! You cannot even call me?"

"Oh yes, I can manage a telephone call."

"Will you?"

"Of course."

"What time?"

"12:40."

"12:40 sharp?"

"Of course."

"Be careful, because at this point even just a minute late would be
suffering..."

"I know, my love. I'll be punctual."

I watched him giving his salute to the orderly then disappearing through
the gate. I started the engine and went back home. I was feeling inside
me happiness and sadness, I laid on the bed again - it was still showing
the mark of his body and his scent, even though faint...

The day after, at 12:40 sharp the telephone rang. Or to put it better,
it just started to ring as I rested my hand on the receiver.

"Hi!"

"Hi, love!"

"Am I punctual?"

"Yes, my love. Thank you."

"How are you?"

"Good, because I hear your voice. Bad, because you are not here with
me."

"I too..."

"You can't talk freely, can you?"

"Right. But you know what I'm thinking, don't you?"

"That you love me?"

"Precisely. And a lot."

"Do you miss me?"

"Terribly."

We talked like that. My heart was drumming in my chest out of happiness
just hearing his voice.

"Will you call me tomorrow at this same time?"

"You can bet on it."

"Good lord, how much I do love you!"

"I do too. I'll call tomorrow."

"Yes, tomorrow, my love. You will always be in my thoughts, in my
heart..."

"Yes, it's the same for me."

"I kiss you."

"Deeply, I too. Bye..."

"Bye... I'll cut the line..."

"Yes, thank you...Bye."

I went back to the atelier and looked at the painting I was doing.

"My lover!" I thought with pride and joy.

It was a weird period. We both needed each other, at that point. The
little time we could spend together was intense, splendid, but seemed us
so very short. We didn't make love all the time, even though after all
we both desired it, because we were feeling that we couldn't share just
the bed. I was going on painting him, and he shooting pictures of me, we
were going out for a walk or to do the shopping. We were trying,
whenever possible, to live a real, normal life. But time was a hard
master.

When we were making love, each time seemed to us more beautiful than the
previous one, because we were learning to know each other better and
more intimately. Our separations were like empty parentheses, spent
waiting to meet again.

Auguste called me, so I told him that, finally, Henry and I had become
lovers. He was happy, gave me his congratulations and promised me he
would come to visit us.

It did me good having been able to talk with Auguste, and at that point
I became aware that really I didn't have friends to whom I could
communicate the joy of having found a lover. I didn't really have so
many friends and the few I had almost certainly would not have
understood and accepted my being gay. Even less would they accept that I
was a gay man in love, whose love was reciprocated. I was sure about
that, above all because I could very well remember the public attitude
towards gay people before I set out on my journey to the Mediterranean.
I hadn't realized it at the time, but I now recalled their witticisms,
their amused quips and their remarks in bad taste. When I met Henry
again, I talked with him about it.

He smiled and said, "What does it matter! I have a couple of real
friends who are gay, and also a couple who are not, who know about me.
About the others, we don't need to tell everybody but neither to hide
it. Some guy who can understand and accept us, well, it would mean he
is a true friend. About the others, we'll lose them, but it will not be
a great loss, will it? Don't worry about it, Shaun. It is their problem,
not ours."

"It is also our problem, love. The fact that I cannot kiss you when I
bring you to your barracks, for instance... If we were a boy and a girl,
we could kiss, but we can't."

"You are quite right. It possibly is less heavy for me because I've been
used to it for a long time. Since I was just a kid I have always known I
am gay, therefore I grew used to such things, to such differences. It's
difficult for you because it's only a little more than a year that
you've understood you are gay, so you feel the difference between then
and now. But even though society at large doesn't accept us, we will
find people accepting us. It is anyway not so different for coloured
people, for gipsies, for immigrants. They too didn't choose to be born
that way, and they too are not accepted. People are mean, and we
unhappily have to learn to live with their meanness."

"But we can't just accept it; we can't give up fighting against all
this."

"Fighting, well yes, at times it's good to fight. But, above all, we
can't allow our dignity to be trampled on, we can't accept their game,
being made to feel guilty, being victimized. Whoever doesn't accept my
being gay doesn't make me feel different or inferior. He just shows he
is different, cheap, not quite human"

"Are you proud being gay?" I asked him.

"No, not at all, as well as I'm not proud of being tall or being born an
Englishman, or... I just am like this, nothing more. I'm neither proud
nor ashamed. And if someone hates me because I'm English, for
instance... so much the worse for him, as he is the idiot. It's the same
for being gay."

"You know, Henry, I've decided I will change the subject of my
paintings... at least in part."

"How? Won't you paint your beautiful nudes any more?"

"Yes, I will, of course. But I will paint gay couples, lovers portraits.
To show how beautiful they are, to allow everybody to read in their eyes
the love, the affection, the tenderness, the passion, the desire of a
gay couple and make them feel it is good. This will be my... crusade."

"Good, I like it. Even though this can possibly... decrease your sales.
Besides gay people, who do you think would buy such paintings?"

"That isn't definite. If it is true, as they say, that I am a good
painter, as I have success with my male nudes, and it has not been just
gay people who buy them, in the same way, I'll have success with my
couples. Anyway... I feel I have to do so."

But, besides the problem of telling or not telling about us two being a
couple in love, the real problem was the little time that his army
service let us to be together. It was really bad for both of us. Months
were passing and yet seemed to never pass. Auguste came to visit us and
he invited us, once Henry was free of his army service, to spend a
period as his guests (your honeymoon, he said) at the Côte d'Azur. Henry
was excited at this thought, and we accepted.

When Auguste left us, I asked Henry if he wasn't jealous about my past
adventures, mainly about Auguste with whom I had still contact.

"Jealous? No, not at all. You have had your adventures, as well as I
have had mine. And anyway I think I had more adventures than you. I know
that you are now in love with me, and only with me. I trust you, I trust
your love. Why should I be jealous?"

"Auguste is a beautiful and likeable boy..."

"Sure thing. If you weren't my lover there could possibly still be
something between you two, as well as, if we weren't lovers, there could
be something between Auguste and me, as I like him. But the reality is
that you love me and I love you. Therefore for us, Auguste can just be a
friend, can't he?"

"Certainly, that's right."

"Well, then?" Henry concluded and kissed me.

I very much liked his assurance about our love. I too was feeling more
and more self-confident near him. And we were gradually getting to know
each other better, more intimately, more deeply.

Henry told me about some of his previous and more significant
experiences. His first time happened when he was fourteen. He was
hitchhiking to Scotland. At one point he got a lift with a fairly
good-looking young man. Henry wasn't thinking about anything like it,
but when the young man made him understand his aim, his curiosity got
the better of him and he thought - why not? Like all adolescents, he
wanted to experience sex, even though still in a confused way. So the
young man made a detour to a country dirt road, stopped amongst some
bushes and they started touching each other. As it was the first time
for Henry, he was feeling awkward and clumsy. But his companion,
although he was twenty-five, showed he was just as awkward as Henry, if
not more.

The young man tried to penetrate Henry, who was game, but was not able
to slip into him even a little... It was a real disaster, so Henry was
just hoping that it would end soon. Anyway, those awkward attempts had
left on him a strong desire to try again, an evident desire for a man,
more strongly than he had felt before.

That same summer, in Scotland, while he was sunbathing on a lake shore,
he met a local farmer's boy, a young lad of seventeen, who, on the
contrary, was a real expert. So for the first time, Henry really had
sex, and with real satisfaction, during all the time of his vacation.
When he was back home, he first found a companion in the boy-scouts,
then a neighbour too, a man in his thirties and this one taught him how
to really make love in a good way. After them he met many other gay
people, both of his age and older than him. But he never fell in love
with any of them, until he met me.

I asked him who, amongst his past mates, was the one with whom he had
had the most sexually satisfying relationship.

"I was seventeen. To earn some pocket money I was baby-sitting. When
they wanted to go out for the evening, a young couple often called me to
care for their one-year-old son. He was twenty-three and was so
beautiful as to take one's breath away, and also very likeable. Each
time I went to their home, I literally devoured him with my eyes.

"One evening, I went to their place. She had asked me by telephone if I
could stay there all night, because she was going to he mother's village
and would spend the night there, while her husband had to stay at his
work-place till six in the morning, because of a sudden emergency.

"I had therefore brought my sleeping bag to sleep on their sofa. When
she left, I checked that the boy was sleeping well, left the
communicating door open so that I could see his little bed and hear him
if he cried, undressed staying with just my briefs on and slipped in my
sleeping bag on the sofa. It was rather hot, so I left it totally
unzipped.

"I had just fallen asleep, it was around ten at night, when he came back
home. I woke up when I felt him sit near me on the sofa. Sleepy and
somewhat dazed I asked him if it already was six in the morning. No,
it's just a quarter past ten in the evening, he said. How come you're
already here? Didn't you have to spend all night at work? So I can go
back home, now. I said sitting up on the sofa. He said - no, we paid you
for the whole night... and it wasn't true I had to work until tomorrow
morning at six, but just this evening till a quarter to ten. It was just
a pretext to have you stop here, because I want to spend the whole night
with you.

"With me? Why? I asked still somewhat dazed from having been awakened.
He caressed my chest, and I at once was aroused and he told me - I've
noticed how you always look at me. I want to make love with you. Well,
then I was fully awake and also my desire had awakened, so I asked him -
are you gay? No, I'm bisex, and I like you, and you too like me, don't
you? I was more and more aroused and answered - yes, to die for.

"He then said to me - then come to the other room with me, on the double
bed. I followed him. He undressed and was really wonderful. We made
love, he was hot, passionate and really skilled. We fucked almost all
the night long. He said to me - I'm okay with my wife, I love her, but
once in a while I also need a good cock, he told me. And in fact the
most of his attention was for my cock that he wanted to taste both in
his mouth and in his ass, besides fucking me... He was really skilled in
bed, and was able to give me incredible pleasure. After that first time
we managed to find other occasions and pretexts to be together and to
fuck.

"But once his wife caught us in full action on their bed... She didn't
kick up a row, she just told him - make your choice, him or me. And of
course he chose her, because anyway, he loved her. So they never again
called me and we never met again."

"Was he better than me to make love?" I asked him.

"Don't talk bullshit. With him they were just good fucks, with you it's
love. There is a gulf."

"But did he fuck better than me? I insisted.

"I don't know. I don't care. But I don't think he did. He just wanted to
enjoy himself, and also make me enjoy only for having me there. You on
the contrary care only to make me happy. This gives you a special
sensitiveness that he couldn't have. Anyway, why are you causing
yourself such problems?"

"I'm always feeling a little afraid not to be enough for you, not to be
adequate, not to be able to give you what you desire, what you need..."

"Silly man! You are giving me your love. What more can you give me? What
more can I desire?"

My extraordinary Henry! How not to be in love with him?

We did spend our "honeymoon" very happily on the Côte d'Azur. As soon as
we were back to London we looked for a new flat, in order to have more
space for his photographic atelier, and he started to shoot his artistic
male nudes. They were really beautiful, sensual, erotic pictures.

We've now been living together for five years. He is well known as a
photographer and has already published three really beautiful albums
that have achieved real success. Also my paintings have a good market,
including my couples of gay lovers. Thank to Thomas I'm also selling in
the U.S.A. and thanks to Jules and Auguste, in France too.

Auguste found love, and he is now in a steady relationship with Jacques,
Jules' former driver.

I don't know what tomorrow, next year, or future will reserve for us.
But up to now our life has been wonderful and Henry and I are really
enjoying it. Many know, understood or guess that Henry and I are lovers,
and it seems that everybody is accepting us, and in fact, we are always
invited out together, as a couple...

We are happy. Life is smiling on us.

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THE END

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

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, please e-mail me at

andrej@andrejkoymasky.com

I've plenty of new stories to translate into English, but I need a good
reviser before posting them. At present I've nobody helping me to revise
my
translations. Would you be one?

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