Date: Thu, 08 Apr 1999 08:47:45 +0900
From: Andrej Koymasky <andrejkoymasky@geocities.com>
Subject: We are presumed to be Enemies - 09

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WE ARE PRESUMED TO BE ENEMIES

by Andrej Koymasky (C) 1999
written the 18th of August, 1994
translated by the author
English text kindly revised by - Nick

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USUAL DISCLAIMER

"WE ARE PRESUMED TO BE ENEMIES" 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, ore because you think yo really want to read it, please be
my welcomed guest.

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9 - SAFE IN SWITZERLAND

"Thank you Mother."

"Meanwhile Sister Marie Noelle will help you walk and talk so that you
can really resemble sisters. See you soon, my boys." the woman said
leaving them in the care of the Sister Marie Noelle.

She took them to another room with a big mirror and asked them to watch
themselves in the mirror, made them walk, make greetings, make the right
expressions with their eyes.

"No no... too humble! In that way you 'act' the sisters. Saing that you
have not to look straight into the other's eyes, doesn't mean to have
that expression . Be more natural, spontaneous... And not those short
steps, a mid way... Well, the rosary as he does, some sisters are used
to make it glide between her fingers. But not both of you, now! You,
more relaxed..."

The sister made them practice for a good while. Then taught them to
climb and descend stairs, to make them understand how they had to move
in long skirts. She took them, then, to greet other sisters who, used to
that kind of thing, quietly point out the more obvious mistakes.

The two sisters with the car came back - it was an old panting Peugeot.
They ate, then left, loading the two boy's bags in the boot. It was
still raining a light drizzle on and off. They crossed the town, then
took the national road.

"We are entering Upper Savoy. So far so good, we have still a few
kilometers to go." The Mother Guardian announced.

"How can we change our clothes?" Manfred asked.

"You will have to do it in the open. We will find a suitable place,
hoping it will not start to rain again."

"Were will you leave us?"

"Give me the map. Here, you see. Look, this line marks the border.
Anyway it will be better if you cross it in night time. It is not that
you run a lesser risk, but just can not be seen by the patrols so
easily. We will pray for you, anyway. Here is a torch. Don't use it,
where it will be seen. But when you reach the other side, please flash
it two-one-three times just to let us know you are safe in Swiss
territory. We will wait here with the car."

"How can we be sure we are in Swiss territory?"

"Here, look, there is this stream marking the border. You will cross it.
Then climb here and go downstream until it makes a bight, because there
is a small rise. From its top you can flash us the signal. Then you have
to walk to south. Until you find an asphalt road, this one. If you take
it going to your left, you see, there is a village, this one. And then,
it's up to you. You can ask political asylum, once there."

" Roadblock." announced quietly Sister Marie Blanche, slowing down.

The car lights lit up a group of armed men, and from the pennant on a
parked car, they understood they were soldiers of the Liberation Army of
General De Gaulle.

"Easy, boys..." the Mother Guardian whispered while their car stopped
and a soldier bent to look inside.

"Peace and bonum, brother." the Mother said opening her window.

"Oh yes, we really would need peace, sister. Where are you going?" the
soldier kindly asked.

"One of our benefactors passed away, we are going to his wake. To
Martigny."

"You still have a long road, and it is night, now."

"Eh, we were informed late, and we left the convent at once. But Sister
Marie Blanche knows the road very well. There are no dangers, are they?"

"No, this part is completely under our control. You can go without
worry."

"Thank you young man. We will pray for you."

"Thank you. You can pass, sisters." the soldier said greeting them with
a smile, then aloud, said to his fellows: "All is right, they can pass!"

Simon and Manfred held their breath while they were passing the
roadblock. They didn't think all could go so smoothly. And as they were
passed, they both sighed deeply.

The Mother smiled: "Come on, boys! Now you have just to cross the
border. Still a few kilometers."

"Have I to stop at the usual pylon, Mother?" Sister Marie Blanche asked,
continuing to drive.

"Yes, it is the best point. And they can change there, hoping nobody
passes by."

They reached the point and went down. They took their bags, and the
basket with their clothes hidden under the fruits in a double bottom.
There they rapidly undressed and put on their own clothes.

They called the Mother Guardian, who collected the habits, putting them
in the basket. "Good, boys. Now walk in this direction. You will climb
for about twenty minutes, then go down to the stream. The ford is marked
by three big stones put in triangle in this way, you shouldn't go wrong.
Look carefully around, before to wade, it is the most exposed place,
easy to be seen... and to hit, if there is a night patrol. Then climb
the other side and signal as I explained you. You'll see the back lights
of our car. When we see your signal, we will shut them off. Good luck,
my boys, and may God accompany you."

"Thank you Mother, you have been a real angel." Manfred said, "I don't
know how we could really thank you."

"Simply praying for us, and helping whoever needs your help, each time
you can. God be with you, boys."

They left. They walked with caution, continually looking around. They
heard a car's engine start then vanish far away. Then the silence of the
night, damp because of the rains the day before. They walked, as they
went down the slope, they heard the murmur of the stream's water. And
they also heard a creaking that made them stop. A patrol; was walking
along the stream bank, five armed men, in a row, walking slowly, looking
around. The two flattened behind the bushes. They remained still, until
they saw the patrol heading away towards their right. They waited
several minutes, then resumed the descent. They searched up and down the
bank for some minutes, and finally saw the three stones. Keeping their
bags on top of their heads, they crossed the stream, continuing to
nervously look around.

On reaching the other bank: "We are in Switzerland, Manfred!" Simon
exclaimed with a low voice.

"Yes, but now we have to climb and then follow the stream to the bight.
>From the other side they can still hit us if they shoot. We have still
to be very careful." Manfred said.

They reached the point that the Mother Guardian told them, and saw the
back lights of the car. They signaled with the torch. The car switched
off the lights, relit them and drove away.

"They have been incredible!"  Simon said.

"Yes, really. And the Mother is really clever and intelligent. She at
once understood I was a German soldier, and that was not so difficult to
guess, but she also understood that we are lovers."

"Well, possibly this also was not so difficult to guess..." Simon said
with a smile.

"No, I don't think that anybody would have understood it. Anyway, she
made us sleep in the same room all the same, and she helped us without
any problem, or  criticism. A really extraordinary woman!"

"Yes... Hey, look, the asphalt road! The sister said we have to go left.
Let's go."

They went at a good pace. Their trousers wet to mid thigh gave a light
sensation of cold to their legs. Nights were starting to be cooler, even
if not really cold. Autumn was rapidly coming to its end.

They arrived in sight of the village. It made a strange impression to
see that there was no blackout, and the few lights of the village seemed
to blaze. And gave in a tangible way the impression of safety.

The road lowered gently with a few wide bends. After a few kilometers
they reached the first houses of the village.

"At this time, everybody must be asleep. What can we do?" Simon asked,
looking around.

"I think we have to look for a place to spend the night. Even if I have
no idea where."

"Coming here I saw an isolated house, without any light. Possibly it's
empty..."

"More likely they all are sleeping. I wouldn't like to be mistaken for a
thief and they shoot us right now that we are safe."

"Where can we sleep, then? I'm starting to feel somewhat tired."

"In the village main square?"

"But there, we cannot make love..." Simon said with a winking smile.

"Didn't you just say you are tired?"

"Not sooo tired not to be able to do it. And yesterday night we
didn't... I desire it..."

"Well, me too, but..."

"Let's tour the village, perhaps we can be lucky."

They went. In the centre of the village, they found the main square,
with the church, the city hall and houses with closed shops. Besides the
light of the few street lamps, not one of the buildings had lighted
windows. There was no sign of life, or activity. In front of the city
hall, there was a stand, encircled with a long red and white cloth, and
in front were draped the Swiss flags and that of the canton. Simon
looked at it, and saw Manfred was looking there.

"Do you too think what I'm thinking?" Simon asked.

"Yes... even if, right in the center of the village..."

"Well, anyway it is a sheltered place... and there we can have all our
privacy, at least until tomorrow morning... Come on, come..." Simon said
and rising an edge of the cloth on one side of the stand, slipped
inside.

Manfred followed him. The street lamps light was almost completely
diminished in the hideaway. Simon took out the torch and lit the
under-stand. The structure was all in wood, and the floor was the same
paving of the square. There were some boxes, and some chairs chained
together.

"We will not be really comfortable, but..." the boy said putting down
his bag.

They sat on the paving. Simon switched off the torch and at once felt
Manfred's arms around him and gently pulling him. Their mouths searched
each other's and united, thirstily. Their hands almost at the same time,
lowered to unbutton the other's trousers, feverishly, until they could
lie on the coveted goal. They caressed each other intimately, continuing
to kiss, until Manfred bent to take it with his lips. Then also Simon
went down to titillate with his tongue the beautiful member of his
lover, until both took it all in their mouths and sucked it, almost in
competition to give the utmost pleasure to the other. They sucked each
other passionately, until Simon felt his lover dangerously shudder. But
just then, Manfred parted from him.

"No, I don't want to cum... I want to take you, and meanwhile to suck
you, as we did the other day..."

"Oh yes, Manfred... I like it..." the boy murmured deeply excited,
rapidly freeing himself of his trousers and briefs, and going to sit on
his man's lap.

Manfred, sitting with his back against one of the robust stanchions of
the stand, his legs flexed with his knees up, guided his pelvis on his
erect pole, slipping it between his buttocks, against his hole. Simon
let himself fall down taking it all inside. When the boy started moving
up and down, Manfred lent to his groin and took the quivering glans
between his soft lips.

"Oh, how wonderful... oh, Manfred..." the boy whispered feeling to be
taken to heaven.

The two boys had luck, as nobody that night was awake, as nobody crossed
the square, because all the stand decorations were fluttering in the
same rhythm with the vigorous up and down motion with which Simon
impaled himself and made himself sucked by his lover. But at last quiet
reigned also under that stand, when they, reached the pleasure top,
tidied their clothes and lay down to sleep on the hard paving, half
embraced and happy.

The first lights of dawn, and the sounds of the first early-bird
passerby voices exchanging greetings, woke them up. Peeping from under
the stand, as they saw that nobody was passing in the square, they
rapidly slipped out and sat on the stairs on the back of the stand.

Somebody came, and they asked him where and when they could meet the
mayor. Then, later, they looked for him and asked for political asylum.
The man was kind, especially when he heard they had been helped by the
Franciscan Sisters.

"Ah, we received several of their protégé. Here, our village, is small,
cannot receive everybody. But we can partially help you. We will issue
here your first documents, but then it will be better for you to reach a
big town. I will give you some addresses. For the moment you can sleep
in the room we on purpose prepared for occasions like yours. We can also
grant you a free meal a day, it is not very much, but..."

In a few days they got the documents as political refugees and they
could go to look for a job in a town. Manfred found a job as a hand in a
timber yard. Simon as a dishwasher in a big restaurant. They also found
a small room, with a toilet but without a bath, but not far away were
the public baths where, for a few coins, they could shower. A very
modest life, but free and quiet, and they both were happy.

Simon didn't have problems to go back to France. When he heard that the
American Army reached Upper Savoy, as they were also rapidly moving up
Italy, Simon decided, in his free day, to pop over to France, taking
advantage of the fact that a waiter of his restaurant went to France
with his bike to meet his girlfriend.

He was just strolling in the town's streets, when he noticed that an
American soldier, young and really nice, was looking at him with
insistence. Simon, instinctively, smiled at him. The young man answered
his smile and said something in English.

"I don't understand English, I'm sorry..." Simon said.

"Vous tres bien. Vous veu mon ami?" the soldier said laboriously
searching the French words.

"Friend? I'll stay here just a few hours... I live in Switzerland, I'm
not a local..."

"Peu heures... bien... Viens?"

Simon guessed what the other was propositioning him, more from his eyes
than from his words.

"Yes, where?" Simon answered with a smile.

The young man smiled and waved him to follow him. He took Simon to a
gate and they went upstairs. At the third floor the soldier rung a bell.
A wiry middle aged man came to open, and, recognizing the soldier,
opened in a wide smile saying something in English and made them enter.

Then the man said to Simon: "You are not a local, right?"

"No... why?" Simon asked with circumspection.

"Oh, nothing... I know all the hustlers of this town, and I never saw
you before. You are a handsome boy. If you decided to come to hustle
here, each soldier, or client, you bring here, I'll give you the ten
percent, as I do with the other boys. Other landlords give nothing or
less, it is profitable coming here... Anyway, good job, for now..."

Simon was somewhat amazed, but followed the soldier in a room. The young
man closed the door, then embraced Simon and caressed him between his
legs, fingering it with pleasure.

He smiled feeling the boy's hard on: "A good size, bien. Now you fuck
me, all right?"

"I don't understand what you are saying, but... I like you, American..."
Simon said feeling between his legs.

They undressed and went on the bed. The soldier sucked for a while
Simon, then went on all fours and said with excitation: "Fuck me, boy,
fuck me..."

Simon understood what the other wanted, knelt on his back and took him.

"Aaah, good, bien! Fuck me hard, boy..."

Simon started to pump inside him, somewhat puzzled as to why a so virile
type wanted to be fucked instead of fucking, but did it with pleasure.
The soldier swayed under him excitedly, continuing to incite him in
English. Simon did guess that "fakmee" meant fuck me and that "gud"
meant good... and also, at the end, that "aimkamin" meant I cumm. Then,
while they were dressing, the soldier, with a very satisfied smile, gave
him some money and two packets of cigarettes. They went out, after the
owner gave him a note with his address. The soldier took him where they
met, said goodbye and went away. Simon thought that in less than one
hour, he earned more than in one day as a dishwasher. And in a lot more
agreeable way. He was wandering, thinking of that, when he noticed
another American soldier looking at him.

So he approached and said: "Fakmee?"

The soldier looked at him with an interrogative air, then said in a
French with a strong American accent, but correct enough: "What do you
want, boy?"

"Don't you feel like amusing yourself with me?"

"Hey, say, I'm not a faggot!"

"You were looking at me..." Simon excused himself.

"Fuck off, boy, go away!" the soldier said with a severe air.

Simon went away, but he had learned a new word: "fakof" that is go
away... He thought that English seemed easier than German. If he learned
some more words, he could come there to earn his living lot easier and
faster than washing dishes... The town literally swarmed with American
soldiers, and he was an handsome boy, and for sure other men would have
appreciated his company in a bed...

That day Simon didn't have other adventures, but he resolved to go back
there as soon as possible. His colleague did go quite often to meet his
girlfriend, he could take profit of that.

It was the third time he went he earned money, food, cigarettes and even
a watch. An American soldier was looking at him in the way Simon learned
to recognize. Simon approached him with a smile.

"Hallo, boy, what's your name?" the soldier greeted him in French.

"Simon..."

"Do you have some free time?"

"Yes, sure..."

"And do you have also a place?"

"Also."

"And... you like being a bottom?"

"Sure... but for money..."

"All right... Let's go."

Simon took him to the boardinghouse he had the address, and where he
already went a couple of times. The owner welcomed him with a satisfied
smile. Simon took the soldier in the room the owner gave him and,
undressed completely, they started having sex.

The boy liked how the American was taking him, therefore did his best to
give him pleasure in his turn. The American was really turned on. They
made love for a long while.

At the end the soldier, satisfied, after paying him, said: "I really
liked you a lot, Simon. I would like to meet you again."

"Me too. Whenever you want."

"To me, even every day, but my pay would not last. If instead of money I
could give you something else... food for instance..."

"I don't really need food... what else could you give me?"

"Cigarettes, chocolate... I don't know... I am the storeman, I can nick
many things... what would you like?"

Simon had an idea; "Fine arts articles - watercolors, paper, brushes,
canvas, something like that..."

The soldier looked at him puzzled, then asked: "Do you paint?"

"No, not me, a dear friend to whom I would like to make a gift..."

"There is something in our store, for the free time activities of the
soldiers, but not very much... Anyway... I can perhaps ask to send me
some fine arts supplies... I really would like to  meet  you again..."

"When can you give me some articles?"

"A little,  tomorrow..."

"All right. Try to get it and as long as you give me it, I'll come with
you..." Simon said cheerfully.

But then, Simon thought again about what the soldier said, and had an
idea... He noticed that the soldiers valued things they gave to the boys
instead of money, a lot less than their commercial value. In other
words, you received more value accepting objects than money. If he asked
all his clients just for fine arts articles, he could accumulate enough
to open a small shop for Manfred, and not only to have him start again
to paint as he thought in a first moment. Normally boys preferred to
receive money, but soldiers preferred to pay with goods that they had
not to buy, or that they could buy at a really low price, almost
symbolic...

Suddenly, several American soldiers discovered they had a vocation for
fine arts, and started to ask to the barracks store watercolors, easels,
canvasses, oil colors, spatulas, and so on. The American headquarter
encouraged the cultural activities, and had already set aside a fund
expressly for the fine arts activities... And Simon, each time, went
back to Switzerland with his bag full of fine arts supplies amongst the
best on the market.

Amongst the gay American soldiers, Simon became famous as "the
artist"... a handsome boy, versatile in bed, likeable, who wanted to be
paid just with artist supplies, for painting, drawing, making enamels or
ceramics, pyrograph, engraving. All was good, if it was brand new and in
the original package.

A regular client was the storeman soldier he first met. And another
source of profit, this time in money, was the ten percent he received
from the landlord on the room's price.

Now Simon went to France every day, having left his job, excluding
Manfred's day off, because he wanted to spend all of it with him. In
spite of his several clients, Simon was always ready to make love with
his Manfred, that he adored. And was accumulating in their small room
all the material for fine arts he was gathering - Manfred used for
himself just a very little part of it. The fact he started again to
paint, was important to Manfred who since their arrival in Switzerland
had become serene, but now seemed really happy.

So, at a certain point, Simon thought it was time to look for a place
where to open the fine arts shop. After a search, he found three that
seemed to fit, but one of them seemed more ideal. It was in an old
building on a small triangular square close to the Cathedral Square,
downtown. It was composed of three small rooms with vaults in bricks,
connected by wide arches in fired bricks. At the back there was a store
room, and on the first floor, right over the shop, a small but really
nice apartment. The shop had been a lady's accessories boutique, and
almost all the shelves of the previous shop were easily adaptable to the
new usage. But the old owner asked for a price that, with all their
little savings, they were far from covering, and the old lady was not
available to lower the price or to concede a delay of payment, nor even
to rent it out. Simon also tried to talk with the director of the bank
where they had their account to ask for a loan, but the man only offered
them a small sum and at a too high interest rate.

Amongst the regular clients of Simon there was also a captain, a
handsome black man, sculpturesque, in his forties, who was really
affectionate to the boy. The man liked, before taking the boy, staying
with him naked on the bed, caressing him and being caressed, chatting of
this and that. Simon aroused him little by little, then the man took him
for a long time, slipping inside him all his powerful rod and filing him
with a mix of passion, tenderness and vigour. Then he always generously
paid the boy. So, Simon thought to tell him his problem. When the met,
they went in the usual boardinghouse.

While, naked, they were intimately caressing, Simon explained to him his
problem.

The man asked him how much he needed, then said in a thoughtful tone:
"If I help you... you open your shop and you don't need to come here any
more... I'll lose you... But anyway, in a while we will go back to the
States and I will loose you just the same... And I like you so very
much, so I want to help you... It's a lot of money, but not really
impossible to gather...Give me a few days to think about it. I don't
promise you anything, but... possibly I can give you a hand..."

"I would really be grateful to you, Abner."

"Then, start to show me now, how much..." the man said smiling,
caressing with desire the boy's ass. Simon smiled and bent between the
man's powerful legs and took the big swollen member, licking it, soaking
it with saliva, carefully sucking it.

"You like my clapper, don't you?

"Yes, Abner, you know it." the boy said excited, and resumed sucking
with a will.

Then he turned offering himself to the black man. Abner penetrated him
with his usual passion mixed with gentleness, and his strong and massive
member started to file his love-channel with long comings and goings,
while the man teased with his big powerful hands his chest ands his
genitals.

"I like you Simon, I like the way you let me take you. I've had several
boys, but you are the best, because you like being taken, and at the
same time you are not at all effeminate, on the contrary...  you are
also so beautiful..." the man said, his voice hoarse with pleasure,
continuing to slip inside him back and forth with vigorous calm,
enjoying the boy and making him enjoy.

Abner never made love in hurry, he always took his time and enjoyed each
moment of his sexual intercourse, he knew how to control and prolong
this enjoyment. But he too, at a certain point, reached the top of his
pleasure and then let himself go to an intense orgasm, pulling against
his groin the boy's pelvis and, quivering, filled him with long,
passionate jets. It was the moment Simon enjoyed the most, and then also
the boy let himself go, abandoning himself to the pleasure. Abner held
him against his body, caressing him and almost cuddling him, still
deeply embedded inside him, until  the boy relaxed, panting and
satisfied.

"Ah, Simon, why don't you come in the States with me?"

"Even if I come here to hustle, I have my man, you know that."

"Lucky him who can always have you. But, isn't he jealous?"

"No, because he knows I will never leave him."

"I would be jealous all the same."

"He knows I like doing it with others, but that to me only he counts.
And he accepts me as I am."

"He really must love you..."

"Yes, he really loves me. He is an extraordinary man."

When Simon met again the captain, Abner told him that he found the
solution. He would organize a great dance-party, with games and prizes,
with the funds of the Headquarters. Tickets for the local girls would
have been sold at half price. Amongst all the soldiers, it would be
drawn a special prize - a one week leave. Tickets would sell like hot
cakes, in fact leaves were quite rare in that period. Moreover, Simon
had to say to all the soldiers with which he had sex, to go to see Abner
to collect bunches of tickets to sell - the one selling more tickets,
would receive a three days leave, in the company of Simon...

"You'll see, they will vie to be able to spend a full three days with
you! And I calculated that if we only sell half of the tickets I will
have printed, you will get all the money you need. Is that OK with you,
to spend three days with the soldier selling more tickets? I think it
could be worth it..."

Simon accepted. And within fifteen days, he got a sum even bigger than
that he needed. The soldier who sold more tickets, was a boy from
Arkansas, called Derek, twenty-three year old, really handsome, who
mainly sold tickets to the local girls, promising he would also
participate, but also to several of his comrades. He sold in all one
hundred ninety six tickets. Simon had been with Derek just a few times
before then, but he liked the young soldier. Derek liked both being top
and bottom and, even if he was the steady boyfriend of a Sargent, he
loved having sex with Simon. Therefore he really did his best to sell
more tickets than his comrades. "Do you know I'm really happy I won the
three days leave with you?"

"Isn't your Sargent jealous?" Simon asked him.

"Yes, sure he is, but I'll make him snap out of it, afterwards. I would
never renounce three days with you, for nothing in the world. I want to
make indigestion of sex, with you!"

He brought Simon to a little hotel near the lake, where he took a double
room, ignoring the malicious glance of the owner, and spent  the three
days making love with him several times a day, in all the possible ways.

And finally Simon went back to Manfred, with the big sum that Abner gave
to him.

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CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 10

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

In my home page I've put some of my stories. If someone wants to read
them, the URL is

http://www.geocities.com/~andrejkoymasky/

If you want to contact the Author, send feed-back, e-mail to:

andrejkoymasky@geocities.com

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