Date: Sun, 2 Nov 2008 10:29:49 +0100
From: A.K. <andrej@andrejkoymasky.com>
Subject: Neither Angel nor Hustler 03/11 (encounters)

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

NEITHER ANGEL NOR HUSTLER
by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2008
written on August 12, 1992
translated by the author
English text kindly revised by Acam

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

USUAL DISCLAIMER

"NEITHER ANGEL NOR HUSTLER" 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.

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

Third notebook

Giorgio had an idea and told us about it during supper - if we had a
telephone he said we might date some johns without needing to go on the
street every night. It would be better especially in winter. We
discussed it and we all do rather agree.

But then Zio offered another idea - he said that he heard that in the
outskirts at the same rent we are paying at present we could find a
larger apartment - maybe even one with a bathroom. A bathroom all for
us! With a shower too! I think that this the reason that made us decide
in favour of Zio's idea. So we decided we had better wait for the
telephone until we were in the new apartment.

Zio knows lot of people in town and so he started to look for an
apartment. I thought that Zio got the idea to look for a larger
apartment because he wanted to have a separate room just for MemŽ and
himself. So I asked MemŽ if I was right and he blushed nicely and nodded
in assent. He's so tender! I'm really pleased for them and I also envy
them a little. Who knows... if Giorgio and I could have a separate room
just for us two... But that is nothing but an idle thought.

Giorgio!

Why does he say he's gay (or more exactly bisexual) and can't love me?
He can't or is unable to or doesn't want to... the three usual verbs.

Samba came home with a leaflet illustrating some apartments both for
rent and for sale. Zio went to see them but he says they are all too
expensive. Samba met a basketball player and is losing his head over
him. But the basket ball player I'm afraid is just interested in Samba's
nice little arse and nothing more. I would like to warn Samba but I'm
afraid he would not listen to me. So all I can do is get ready to pick
up the pieces in case Samba gets hurt.

That basketball player is handsome, tall and well built. But I don't
like him. Just the fact that Samba told him he needn't be paid for sex
yet the man insists on paying smells bad to me. I have moreover the
feeling he is the sort of guy who goes with us hustlers then despises
us. I hope I'm wrong. But there are far too many nasty puritans. People
ready to fuck your arse or to be fucked in their arse and then tell us
that we are just whores after all. Yes it is true we are whores and so
what? It's them who come to look for us after all. They have no right to
judge us from on high. They are way dirtier than us. Dirty inside more
than in bed.

In bed anything should be allowed as long as the two partners agree.
Pornography is not in the sex in the body but in the head.

The basketball player's name is Stefano. Samba does nothing but talk
about him. He has really fallen for him. My poor friend. Perhaps Giorgio
is right when he says that with a man it is either only sex or only
friendship... No it's not like that. It depends on the man I think.

In a disco one Saturday Giorgio hooked a girl and I felt like dying
inside. I fear girls because I'm afraid that the day will come when one
of them will take Giorgio away from me. I know that one day it could
happen but I hope it will happen as late as possible. I hope he makes
that girl pay to have sex with him. But if he doesn't tell me I don't
dare to ask him. My love for him is building a wall between him and
me... If I didn't love him I wouldn't have any problem talking to him
about such things. But I can't help it! I really can't. I feel
absolutely powerless.

I'm the one who always said he would be the master of his own life. When
you're in love you're not master of anything any more. It's like an
unconditional surrender - you are unarmed in the hands of the one you
love. If he loves you too all is well as you are equal. If not you can
get badly wounded. I feel that this will be my destiny with Giorgio. But
I hope it will happen as late as possible.

I went to the movies with Samba to see "My Own Private Idaho". Mike's
story is similar to mine, I thought. During the movie a guy came to sit
next to me and began to touch me. I looked at him - he was a soldier
young and handsome.

When he placed his hand on my basket, there in the dark, I leaned toward
him and whispered, "I do it only for money."

He answered at once, "Alright. How much?"

"It depends. What do you want and where?"

"I'll rent a room in a pension I know. I'll pay for it. And I want to do
everything with you."

So I shoot "A hundred."

He didn't turn a hair (maybe he's rolling in money) and said, "Alright
but that's for two hours."

So I told Samba and went with him. It always strikes me as odd when a
young and handsome guy pays a hustler. And yet there are some like that.
On the street I asked him why someone like him needs to pay an hustler -
he could easily find a partner without having to pay.

He smiled and said "If you came for free of course I would have been
glad. But as you want money and I have it and as I like you why not? Is
that enough of an explanation?"

We went to the pension. He was well known as he was respectfully greeted
and they asked him if he wanted the usual room. It was a small clean
room with a king size bed and a wide mirror on the wall so that whoever
is on the bed can see himself in the mirror. In a word a room conceived
expressly to fuck in. In fact there is not even a closet but there is an
adjoining toilet with a shower. He wanted us to shower together before
having sex. It was exciting, because he washed me and I washed him.

He then took out a box of condoms before I could do so. Naked and still
a little wet we got onto the wide bed. He started with long
preliminaries. I like guys who don't want to fuck at once even though it
takes longer. They say that time is money but it's not true. Time can be
more or less valued than money. That depends. But pleasure has a higher
value than either time or money after all. And preliminaries are
important to make a fuck into something more than just going through the
motions.

Stroking and being stroked means that the other is not just a body just
a tool to get your pleasure even if you pay for it but a person a living
being with sentiments and feelings...

When soft his cock was small but when hard it was prodigiously big and
firm. We made love for a long while without any hurry. I liked him so I
did my best and he seemed satisfied with me. Ah, if all the johns were
like that one!

Another thing I really appreciated in the handsome young soldier is that
he said me, "Tell me when you are close to coming as it's best if we
come at the same time."

"Are you in hurry?"

"Absolutely not."

So we went on for the whole two hours more or less (I didn't keep
checking my watch) before we came. And we reached orgasm together as he
wanted. It was really great. He then went to the toilet, and I couldn't
restrain myself from rummaging in his clothes to se who he was. Fucking
holy shit! He was the son of a big wig in politics but a really famous
one! I put everything in order before he came back. I admit I was
feeling somewhat bewildered. Who knows whether his father knew about his
son's taste? And if he knew did he accept it or was he a bastard like
Giorgio's parents?

The soldier came back. "Good. We have to dress now. This is your money.
Thank you anyway."

I was almost tempted to refuse the money but then thought it would be
senseless. After all he had plenty and I needed it. We dressed and went
out. The pension-keeper asked him if he had to charge it to his
account... He just nodded. It's funny the thought of having an open
account for a room where to go and fuck. Who knows whether the
pension-keeper knew who his customer was?

Some of the johns want to know your name and tell you theirs (true or
false it doesn't matter), others don't give a shit. Who knows what's
behind this different behaviour? It might be that those that want to
know your name don't want an anonymous fuck. And yet even though we
hadn't told each other our names, with that soldier it had not at all
been an anonymous fuck. He showed that to me with all his body. He
didn't ask me my name maybe because he didn't want to tell me his own
but he didn't even lie to me.

++++++++++++++++++++

Zio found an apartment in the outskirts. We went to see it before he
signed the contract. The street is unsightly, almost wretched. Old, low,
scrappy buildings and old, small, abandoned factories with broken
windows. The apartment was on the second floor, over a florists shop and
a bar. The apartment was nice - there were three small rooms, the
kitchen, the bathroom with shower, a small entrance room and two
balconies, one on the street and the other on the inner yard. All
together about sixty square meters, twice as much as we had in the
balcony apartment. And for the same price apart from the central heating
charges. So we decided to take it, Zio went to the agency to sign the
contract, and leave the deposit and the rent in advance.

We decided that Zio and MemŽ will share the end room, then Samba,
Giorgio and I will have the middle one and we will all use the third
room as a living room. Even though for the moment we have little
furniture, we will get more a bit at a time. Then Zio also went to apply
for the telephone. He says we will get it in about three months. So
first of all we thoroughly cleaned and painted all the rooms, and
finally we moved in. To christen it, we bought a big tray of pastries
and a bottle of Asti sparkling wine. For the first time we had a shower
at home, two at a time so as not to wait too long to have it. It's great
showering in twos apart from any sexual implication.

I would have liked to have a room just for Giorgio and me but I didn't
feel like asking for it both because I feared a refusal from Giorgio or
his embarrassment and because Samba might feel excluded... For the
moment we use the closet in Zio and MemŽ's room. But we will soon buy
another one because the quantity of clothes we have is increasing.

The only people who live on the same landing as us are an old couple of
retired people. They are quiet people and we see them rarely. There are
no more floors therefore no-one else lives in our building. MemŽ, our
green fingers, immediately started to fill the street balcony with pots
of plants (the balcony of our living room for the moment is empty).

When we got the telephone we started to give our number to the most
reliable johns so we are gradually making more appointments by phone and
going less to our street. With winter approaching this is really good.
Who knows - maybe one day we will be able to work using the telephone
for all appointments? It would be great if there was a section "gay
hustlers" in the yellow pages. Silly fantasies. As long as society goes
on pretending to be ashamed about prostitution (while at the same time
acting in ways that ensure prostitution prospers!) and about gay people
too there will be two formidable reasons why that won't happen.

++++++++++++++++++++

Zio told us he met a hustler who is looking for a place to live and who
seems to be nice. In his opinion he could come and live with us and we
could use the third room as a bedroom for Samba and that boy instead of
as a living room. But he wants us to meet him first so we can decide all
together. The boy's name is Lamberto (poor thing! What do parents think
of when they choose a child's name?) and he hates being called Berto, so
he uses Jimmi for a name. He is one year older then me and realised he
was gay just two years ago, when he had his first experience.

That was when he was seventeen. He went to visit Spain hitchhiking with
a rucksack and a lightweight one-man tent. One night he stayed in a
railway station waiting room as it was raining and he didn't feel like
pitching his tent. While he was asleep he was victim of a robbery. So
when he woke up he was with just the clothes he was wearing without
papers and without money. He went to the police station but the bastards
who are so good at getting your goat when you are in a right mess or in
need just shrug their shoulders and leave you in the shit. He then
thought to beg for money to be able to eat and to pay a ticket to go
back home.

He didn't get enough money, until an evening a guy asked him, "How much
would you need?"

He explained to the guy what happened to him, and said he would just
need enough money to pay for a train ticket to go back to Italy.

The guy said, "It's not nothing but not really too much. Listen, if you
come to spend three nights with me I'll then buy you the ticket."

Jimmi was not born yesterday so he at once realised that the guy wanted
to have sex with him. Up to then Jimmi never thought about sex that is
he knew that he wasn't attracted to girls but not even that he could be
interested in men.

When he was younger he was somewhat worried because his friends and
schoolmates were doing nothing but talking about cunts and how horny
they were and Jimmi felt nothing at all. So he went to see the family
doctor whom he really trusted and asked for an appointment thinking he
might be abnormal.

The doctor examined him thoroughly and told him afterwards "Don't worry,
you're absolutely normal. It's just that some boys awaken earlier and
some later some are hotter and some quieter. You will see that when you
meet the right girl you will wake up and how much!"

So Jimmi felt reassured. Of course he didn't think that the person who
could "wake him up" would be a man.

Anyway, when the guy made him that offer he accepted thinking that some
sex and three days of food and shelter in exchange of the train ticket
was an acceptable bargain. He just said to that guy he never took it in
the arse and he didn't want to. The guy said that there was no problem
with that.

Then Jimmi said "But you buy the ticket first. Don't take this as an
offence, but I don't know you..."

The guy said "Alright, but I keep the ticket for the three days: I don't
know you either."

So they bought the ticket and went to that guy's home and there they
undressed at once and went to bed. Jimmi told us that to begin with he
felt somewhat weird because he didn't know what to do and how but the
guy just guided him and Jimmi let him.

The first night all they did was just a good sixty-nine. The second
night they started again with a sixty-nine, but then the guy asked Jimmy
to fuck him in the arse. Jimmi tried and said to us that at first he
couldn't do it, not because the guy was too tight but just because each
time Jimmy pushed without steering his cock with his hand his cock just
slipped upwards. But he quickly learned how to do it and well so the
third night he just fucked that guy very smoothly without problems. Then
the guy gave him the train ticket as promised and he could finally go
back home.

But that weird experience awakened his senses and from then on he looked
at men with different eyes that is with desire. Back home for a while he
didn't do more than dream of finding somebody with whom he could try
again but as he said "you cannot go around asking to have a fuck can
you?" He had already realised in those three days that he was gay and
accepted it without problems but he knew nothing about the gay world
anyway.

Until one day he saw a certain magazine on a news stand and bought it.
In that magazine he read the ad of a gay guide and ordered it by mail
sending the money and giving a poste-restante address for the packet as
his mother always looked at all his mail. And that is how he discovered
that there are places where one could cruise and started to visit them.
As he is a handsome boy on the very first evening he was hooked by a guy
who asked him what his tariff was.

Jimmi, who is a smart boy answered, "Same as all the others."

"Fifty?" the guy asked.

"Fifty." Jimmi readily confirmed and thought it was a good sum for
amusing himself.

So while at day he went to school in the evenings on the pretext he was
attending a gym he went hustling and earned some money. He saved it as
he could not let his folks see he suddenly had money. His mother was a
literature teacher (rather a bore, according his description) and his
father an engineer. But it seems that they were keeping him short of
money and they also kept him under close control as if he were under
curfew or on parole.

Jimmi went on with his double life until he graduated from high school
(so he was the best educated of us all) and would have gone on in that
way if he hadn't fallen for the son of their neighbours. So, after
having courted that boy (seventeen years old) for a while he decided at
last to tell him clearly what he wanted. And no good came of it. In fact
the little bastard not only told him he didn't want to do that but went
to spill the beans to his folks who at once went to tell everything to
Jimmi's folks.

When his parents were informed they questioned him and Jimmi instead of
denying it told them that yes he was gay and had no intention of hiding
it (hats off! A boy with balls!). His mother then became hysterical and
started to cry and play the victim "what did I do to deserve that!"
(Greek tragedy-like) and his father to accuse him "Aren't you ashamed?
Don't you see you are making your Mum suffer?" and so on.

After three months of such scenes Jimmi got fed up and as he was already
of age decided to leave home and to live by himself. Zio asked him if he
didn't first go to smash that boy's mug in but Jimmi said it was not
worth it. "Turds are to be avoided not to be trampled over". His only
problem was that he couldn't find a regular job and living in a bed and
breakfast room he had to spend almost everything he earned hustling to
survive that is for the room his meals the laundry and so on. Of course
living with us he would save lot of money.

Jimmi was working along the river boulevard, and Zio had only met him
because a john first picked Jimmi up so he was in the car when he drove
past our usual street also picked up Zio.

We liked him at once so we decided to "adopt" him. We prepared the room
for Samba and him. I think that Jimmi felt attracted to me but my head
was full of Giorgio so I never encouraged him and he never pushed things
too far. That boy has the sense to respect others.

Jimmi is a maniac for cleanliness - much more than the rest of us who
are pretty clean anyway. He spends lot of time washing himself
thoroughly. And he is rather selective with his johns - if he doesn't
like one he asks three times the usual tariff so that the john gets
discouraged and leaves him in peace (almost always) or Jimmi earns good
money (very seldom).

He is also very skilled in the kitchen so with him our meals have jumped
to a higher standard even though we spend almost the same as before on
food. In short he has been a good addition to the household in every
way.

He is physically well built. He always takes great care of his
appearance and the results are evident. At the beginning he was a little
embarrassed by our going around our apartment naked but he adjusted
quite quickly. He isn't a complex boy. He takes life as it comes and
adjusts to it even though he has a strong personality. I think that if
Zio was not our acknowledged leader he could take over. But he doesn't
want to and he doesn't try. He tacitly recognises Zio's authority as we
all do. In short he adjusted himself to this as well.

++++++++++++

The telephone dating system is starting to work very well so that we
almost don't need to cruise in the street so often. It works also for
Jimmi. To find new johns we just attend some gay premises occasionally.
And our johns pass the word on too. Amongst my steady johns there still
are the greengroceress, Alberto and the architect. Alberto married his
woman but our threesomes are still as before.

Now I have a new john too that I meet quite often around twice per week.
He is a theatrical scenery designer. His name is Ruggiero and his home
is just weird. Not at all unsightly; it is just really unusual. For
instance he has a huge aquarium that covers an entire wall of his
entrance hall filled with thousands of tiny and very colourful fishes
(and he knows the names of all the kinds) and he has a round white
leather bed in an almost spherical room which is also white so that you
have the feeling you are inside an egg, with a TV screen in the wall, so
when we fuck we can see gay porno movies on it and get even more
aroused.

Ruggiero in bed is quite simple. But before doing something he follows
almost a ritual - he offers me a drink, he puts on some music, he talks
to me about his recent work... I think that what he needs after all more
than a good fuck is to talk. I listen to him and show him I'm interested
and he likes it a lot. Jimmi says that sometimes we are almost like
social workers and maybe he is right.

The only problem with Ruggiero is that after we fucked together for
three months he told me he wanted me to become his boyfriend. I gently
told him "No, I don't want to be anybody's boyfriend" (apart from
Giorgio though I've little or no hope). He seems to have accepted it and
it doesn't seem as if his attitude to me has changed.

The fact is (besides my love for Giorgio) that I think I can stand
Ruggiero just a couple times per week but I wouldn't be able to if I
lived with him. But of course I didn't tell him so. I don't want to
wound him; there is no reason to. Moreover Ruggiero has a kind of former
lover from whom he has not yet been really able to break though I don't
think they have sex with each other any more. I don't like his former
lover. I don't mean physically as he is a real hunk but because of his
character. He always is snobbish. He doesn't treat me badly. The few
times we met at Ruggiero's place he is rather formally kind and correct
but I don't like how he always plays the wiseacre about everything. But
I would like to see Carlo (this is his name) all naked... at least once
anyway.

Jimmi told us that he had been hooked at a gay bar by one of his old
high school teachers who took him home and asked Jimmi to fuck him in
the arse. He did it of course more than willingly for his usual tariff
not so much because he liked the guy but just because he got a kind of
private revenge that way - the terrible Prof. literally fucked in the
arse by his student! That's nice isn't it?

Jimmi with his usual sense of humour said, "At least there is some
justice in life." I asked myself whether there is somebody in my life
that I would like to fuck in the arse to take my revenge... but am not
able to find any. Except perhaps the priest at my village who tried to
load me with guilt for my sexual games when I was just a kid. Anyway he
didn't succeed!

Who knows if priests fuck? Some say they do it even more than us but I
think that with some exceptions the rumours are just gossip and malice
without any basis. Anyway be that how it may, I really am not able to
imagine my parish priest fucking (either with a woman or with a man).
And it would only be his business after all. Why do people give a damn
about what others do in their own beds?

+++++++++++++++

The fact that we almost never go cruising in our street any more allows
us to have a more normal time table and that's good. We now live more in
daytime and less at night. But I went back to our street because I
wanted to meet Muhammad again. I didn't meet him but the other boys told
me he is still around even though they were not able to tell me more
about him. I decided I'll go and look for him again as I really like
him. And I could ask if Abdel has a telephone and I could send him my
number if he has...

++++++++++++++

About priests: one evening Zio, Samba and I had been to a gay bar and
were coming back home. It was around two thirty am and there were no
more buses and to crown it all the taxis were on strike. So we just had
to walk home although it was rather a long way. At a good pace it would
take us around one hour.

As I said we were walking home when from some distance we saw two guys
who were sharply tugging and beating a third guy who was shouting
"help!". Without even thinking about it we three ran to rescue that poor
guy whoever he was yelling as loudly as he could. The two aggressors ran
away and when we got near the third one who was just getting on his feet
again we saw he was a rather young priest without his frock but with
dark suit and a cross on his jacket lapel. And the classic face of a
priest.

Zio asked him "What happened? What did those two want?"

The priest now on his feet seemed still somewhat shocked but said "To
rob me I think. Maybe they were two poor young drug addicts..."

"Ah," Zio said "two junkies. But what the fuck... oh, sorry father, what
the heck could they steal from a priest? I don't think you go around at
this hour with valuables on you right?"

"Well, "the priest said "I think it was a trap. Just a while ago I was
woken up by a telephone call. A young man's voice told me that his old
mother was dying and that she wanted the viaticum and the unction so..."

"What did she want? What's viatican and anction?" Samba asked, curious.

So as an old altar-boy I translated, "Communion and holy oil."

The priest went on, "Yes, that's so. Thus I quickly got ready and came
out and those two tried to rob me."

"Of a wafer and some oil?" Zio asked, unbelieving.

I again as an expert explained, "No, the host and the little ampulla of
oil are to be carried in gold cases! Isn't that so father?"

"Yes, exactly. I think they were after the gold boxes... It was just an
excuse to make me come out with these two gold objects."

I was thinking about that story meantime said "But if those two junkies
were passing here just by chance and the old woman is really dying?
Don't you think it would be best if you go and check?"

"Well... possibly yes..."

So I say "Listen father we will see you to that old woman's house and
wait for you on the street and then see you back to the vicarage so you
will be safe."

Zio intervened "Niki is right. Those two junkies could still be around
and just waiting for the opportunity to try again especially if it was
really them who called you out. Let's go you guide us reverend."

So we went and when we got to the address, there was a lit window on the
second floor and the priest said it was indeed the old woman's
apartment. So he rang the doorbell and went upstairs. After about half
an hour he came downstairs and thanked us because without our help he
might have missed going to see her.

While we were seeing him back he asked us "Why did you help me boys?"

"Why not?" Zio answered and then added, "Any use of violence upsets me.
It' not right. Moreover even though I don't believe in all those things
you priests do - nevertheless if you believe in them and the old woman
did too... By the way is she dead?"

"Not yet..."

"So much the better. If as I said she believes in it it was important
that you got to see her wasn't it?" Zio concluded.

The priest nodded then asked "But who are you boys?"

A simple plain question but we didn't answer.

Then the priest said quietly "Like angels sent by the good Lord..."

Samba giggled and said, "Not really like that father. We have really
very little in common with angels maybe nothing at all."

"But you rescued me didn't you?"

Then I said "We are just a little like the good Samaritan - shit to most
people but the only ones who gave some help."

"You are Catholic..." the priest said and it was not so much a question
as a kind of affirmation.

"I was one once maybe. Now... who knows?

"I would like to be able to thank you boys, to show you in some way my
gratitude for your gesture - for the time you spent with me tonight."

Samba again giggled and said, "Our time usually is quite expensive. But
not tonight and not to you."

Zio added, "Who knows whether god if he really exists will remember
about this night and will excuse us from a little bit of hell."

"God exists and will surely remember this night and I don't see why you
talk about hell."

"Because you priests would like to see those like the three of us all in
hell!" I said.

"Why? I can't understand... you seem three good boys and you also showed
you are..." the priest said, somewhat confused.

Then Zio burst out, "Why? Because we are three hustlers. That's why!"

"Hustlers?" the priest asked as if he didn't understand, or possibly
just astounded.

"Yes, faggots, perverts and prostitutes, We three sell sex to men for
our living. Is that clear enough?"

"Yes, I know what you mean."

"This is why I talked about the Samaritan earlier. Isn't it so? We are
just shit in the eyes of society, and yet... " I said.

"Yes I understand. But the Samaritan was given by Jesus as a model...
Our Lord didn't care that he was a Samaritan and thus a kind of heretic
Hebrew, he only cared about the fact that he did a good turn as you have
done this night. I have no right to judge you it's not my task. And our
Lord has a different meter than that of men to judge people's deeds."

Then Samba said, "Thank you for the sermon father. But your Lord ought
to use a kilometre to judge us and not just a meter!"

The priest smiled and said, "I am sure that he uses much more than a
kilometre to judge us the good Lord... Anyway thank you from my heart. I
will remember you during the holy mass and in my prayers."

"Well," Zio said, but without any sarcasm in his tone, "if god exists,
it will be a good thing if he hears a few good words about us it does no
harm."

"I'm home boys..."

"Good night reverend." I said and my mates echoed me.

"Good night boys. And may god bless you."

End of the story.

Walking back to our home for a while none of us uttered a word.

Then Samba said, " The priest didn't seem scandalized when he
understood... just stupefied, I think."

"Priests are odd people - half of them seem just to want to send
everybody to hell, and the other half seem to want to save everybody
form hell." Zio said. Then merrily added, "Also faggots have a heart.
This would be a good title for a newspaper. And as a sub-title - three
hustlers rescue a priest and his wares from two junkies and help to send
a nice old woman straight to paradise! Anyway... I liked that priest. He
didn't even try to convert us after all. So today we even did our good
deed what more can you want from life? But tell me, Niki, what's that
story we are shitty sandman but good ones?"

"No, not sandman but Samaritan. Sa-ma-ri-tan."

"Smaritan? What the fuck are they?"

"Inhabitants of a region called Samaria."

"Ah, I understand, somewhat like Sardinia but in some other land... No,
you don't need to explain it to me, Niki, tomorrow I'll go and check in
my encyclopaedia."

Samba intervened, "Zio, you did like that priest because he was handsome
didn't you? You would have liked fucking with him perhaps. Who knows
what it would be like fucking with a priest?"

"Don't talk bullshit Samba, I didn't even think of it I swear. Moreover
I already fucked with a priest and there is absolutely no difference
from other people they are normal men."

"But a catholic priest is not one who should ever fuck?"

"Sure they say they should not but are you always able to do what you
should do? Also a husband is presumed never to cheat on his wife, and
yet..."

I was listening amused at that kind of squabble between Zio and Samba.

+++++++++++++++++++

I was leaving an amusement arcade with Jimmi when I heard a call
"Lamberto!"

At first I didn't remember that that was Jimmi's real name, but my
friend turns and says in a low voice, "Shit my brother Altiero..."

I then notice a boy a couple of years older than Jimmi coming towards
us.

"How are you? What are you doing? Where did you end up?" the guy asked
as he was near us.

Jimmi said, "I'm fine and you?"

"You seem fine, yes... But where do you live now?"

"With some friends. This is Niki; this is my brother Thiery."

"Hi." I said.

"Hi. But what do you do now do you work?"

"Yes, Thiery, I do."

"A good job?"

"Wonderful." Jimmi said then with a challenging note added, "I hustle
and earn good money."

I saw his brother's face turning almost white then he asked, "Why are
you goading me with such nonsense?"

"No, it's absolutely not nonsense."

"Lamberto your life... is your business. If you are... different, well
that's just your business. But... to prostitute..."

"Why you've some good reason to object? I'm doing a job I love. I amuse
myself and am paid to amuse myself. I'm a faggot and I like men as you
know. That's why I left home because our folks don't understand me don't
accept me. And I see that you too don't accept me."

"No... its' just that... I accept your sexuality I can understand some
things but... hustling!"

"I'm a consenting adult and I do it with consenting adults. Don't you
fuck one girl after another? Isn't it the same thing? What's the reason
that it scandalizes you so much? Is it just because I don't do it for
free?"

"But selling yourself so... selling your body... doing it with people
you don't even like and that don't attract you..."

"No believe me! I never go with someone I don't like or feel attracted
to exactly like you with your girls. If after we both got our pleasure I
am paid for the time I devoted to them - my time not my body - this is
just work. You too sell your body to your boss after all. I'm doing a
job that pleases me that's all. And anyway I'm fed up with your kind of
morals; they aren't worth two cents."

"Mum would like to hear news from you." his brother said changing the
subject.

"Tell her about me. I don't feel like seeing them any more. I've now
found a real home a real family. Do you see Niki here? He's way more of
a brother to me than you. Because he accepts me as I am without boring
me with morals. Yes I sell myself and you?"

"I? I don't understand... what do you mean?"

"Let go Thiery don't struggle with it... I explained it just now, but
you won't understand anyway."

"But I would like to understand you."

"Oh, yes? Really? That's why you immediately make judgments? As tolerant
as you are and as long as he doesn't threaten your precious arse you can
even wink at the fact that you brother is a faggot. But that he earns a
living from sex... oh no, you can't accept that can you? Or you are just
jealous because you would like to earn a living while amusing yourself
but you're not able to do that? Let go Altiero, let go... Let's go
Niki."

Without saying goodbye Jimmi turned back and walked away. His brother
did nothing to stop him. I went with Jimmi at once. Even though he tried
to show a merry face I felt he was really feeling very bad. He was
walking faster than usual almost as if he wanted to put as much distance
as possible between himself and his old world.

Once in a while I spied on his beautiful profile that seemed chiselled
with the burin, and that was now cross and hard. I would have liked to
hug him there in front of everybody to show him my love and my support.

I saw him gradually relax and recover his usual rather free and easy
expression.

Then he took me by an arm and bending his head towards mine whispered as
he was used to do "look at that hunk with the white jeans checking at
the tramways timetable... look what an enticing basket he has between
his legs..." and slyly winked to me.

I understood he was feeling better and felt relieved. Playing our game
as usual, I asked him, "What would you like to do to that one?"

"I'd open his jeans and lower them there in front of everybody. Then
lower his briefs too. Then kneel in front of him and take his dong in my
hand, then give him a blow-job until he screams with pleasure."

"Why don't you do it to me instead?"

"Yes I'd like to do that to you but in private."

All was back to normality.

Jimmy really desires me. One day while I was taking a shower and Samba
had just left Jimmi came in. After a short while I felt his hard cock
brushing against my arse. I just move away but Jimmi puts his hands one
on my tummy and the other under my balls and pulls me to him, and leans
against my body pushing his hard pole between my thighs.

"Jimmy stop it!" I said thinking he was just jesting.

But he didn't let me go and said at my ear, "I want you, Niki... let me
do you come on... just once..."

"No, Jimmi I don't feel like..." I said but I don't know why I didn't
move away. I didn't free myself from his grasp. He was holding me firmly
but not too tight to prevent me from getting away from him.

The feeling of his beautiful hard cock on my back and of his hands on my
skin were getting me aroused. He too noticed it and licked my earlobe.

I shuddered from head to toe but again protested "No, Jimmi, stop it
please!"

"Just once, Niki... just once..." he insisted.

He caressed my cock, my belly and chest, and I shuddered again. I could
have escaped from him but I didn't. The shower water was streaming onto
my skin like a thousand sensual caresses adding pleasure to pleasure. He
kissed me on the neck and his pole brushed between my buttocks and
searched for my hole. He felt I was shuddering and without a word he
found the right spot and pushed and gently slipped inside me and filled
me with a light steady pressure, without strokes nor jerks, until he was
totally inside me. Then he went on caressing me all over my body and he
slowly started moving back and forth and I felt myself melting with
pleasure.

But then I think that Giorgio could come in at any moment and see me
like that and this makes me feel bad. I so slip away all of a sudden and
turn toward him. Jimmi is there his cock still hard and straight out and
a frustrated expression on his face.

I caressed his cheek as gently as I could and said, "Jimmi, you're a
handsome boy and also skilled and I like you but... I'm... I'm in love
with Giorgio."

He became embarrassed and said, "Forgive me I didn't know... I didn't
think... I like you a lot but I didn't know you're Giorgio's boyfriend.
Or else I would never have tried..."

I smiled "I'm not Giorgio's boyfriend."

"But... you just said..."

"I just said I'm in love with him but he's not in love with me.
Unhappily for me we have never made love together. He doesn't want to.
But I... I feel that it wouldn't be fair if you and I... Possibly
because I like you but you aren't just a john..."

Jimmi nodded (his cock was now softening), then gave me his hand,
"Anyway... friends?"

"Of course and... I was enjoying it anyway but..."

"I was too. But I will never try it with you again I promise."

Who knows, maybe I was an idiot not to accept Jimmi's court. I think I
could fit very well with him. But there is only room for Giorgio in my
heart.

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

CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 4

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

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, or desire to help revising my English
translations, so that I can put on-line more of my  stories in English
please e-mail at

andrej@andrejkoymasky.com

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