Date: Sun, 20 Nov 2005 16:20:29 +0100
From: A.K. <andrej@andrejkoymasky.com>
Subject: Alain's Diary - 09/14 (adult-youth)

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ALAIN'S DIARY
by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2005
written on October 8th, 1990
translated by the author
English text kindly revised
by Dave

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

USUAL DISCLAIMER

"ALAIN'S DIARY" 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.

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

Part 9


11th of August 1973, Saturday

Claude is already on vacation and today I too will start my vacation.
Today he will come down to fetch me to his chalet in the Massif Central.
We will be alone, he and I, and I guess it will be good. Yes, orgies
could also be amusing and exciting, but after all I prefer being alone
with the man I'm fucking with...

I already prepared my luggage and am now waiting for him to come, with
his shabby deux chevaux. We will spend all the week together. I really
need to rest a while, to do nothing. And then... with Claude I can have
sex every day, and on a bed, and also under the sunlight! On a bed is a
lot better than standing down there in the mine, or going amongst the
bushes, or I don't know where. You can do things at ease, peacefully, in
a good way, quietly.

If I had to make a list, besides Jacques, who would of course be the top
and with a big gap with all the others, the second would be Philippe,
then Claude, then all the others. Anyway I feel good with Claude. He is
an easy dude, and knows how to have sex. He has a fair body and is not a
sissy. And we are friends. I think he is, at present, the only true
friend I have.


12th of August '73, Sunday

More than a chalet, this is a modest, little mountain house,
stone-built, in a lost small village with eleven houses (I counted them)
and a small chapel (and without a town hall or a shop). We are the only
two people from "outside", all the other inhabitants are highlanders.
The house belonged to Claude's grandpa, who was born here. His family
doesn't like this house, thus they let it to Claude, who loves this
place and usually comes here all alone.

The place is really beautiful, from the rear window you can see the
entire valley sloping down. On the first floor there is the kitchen and
the stable, separated by a wooden staircase leading to the second floor
where two rooms are. The smallest is now used as storage, a kind of
depot. The other one is the bedroom, with just a wardrobe, two chairs, a
side table, a chest of drawers with a mirror, and a tall and wide bed
where I and Claude make sex and sleep. The furniture is old and simple,
in farmers' style, but Claude cares for it and I like it. In the stable
he has built a bog and put a wooden bath-tub.

Our program during the day is going out for a good walk in the
surroundings, or else to go down the valley with his car to do shopping
for our supplies. Here everybody greets you. Claude told the villagers I
am his cousin, so that people don't slander, that is they don't
understand our true relationship, that I fuck Claude's ass. He never
went up there with any other boy; I'm the first one he brought here.

I asked him how it happened the first time he had sex with a male, and
when he understood he liked males. He told me it was ten years ago, when
he was just eighteen, and he already worked down there in the mine. But
it didn't happen in the mine. He was playing soccer with our village's
team and was already feeling he liked boys and not girls, but couldn't
expose himself, as everybody was talking about girls and telling bad
things about fags.

During a match, he received a big blow with the ball right down there
and he tumbled down on the field, almost senseless because of the strong
pain, his face purple. He was brought in haste at the hospital for a
check and the doctor on duty who visited him was a young assistant, as
it was a Sunday. He asked Claude to lie down on the litter, pulled down
his shorts with the underpants and touched him there and asked, "It
hurts?" and he said, "a little bit, yes" and the other fingers and
touches, until Claude gets an hard-on and feels ashamed.

The doctor, as if nothing happened, says, "happily, everything seems
alright, young man, but we have to check if it still works as it has
to." and continues to finger and touch... so that he is quite wanking
him. Claude is enjoying that a lot but is also ashamed to die, so he
says, "I think that if you don't stop... I'll cum..." and the doctor
says with a little smile, "Yes, no problem. Why, don't you like it?" So
Claude answers, "No, no, I like it very much..."

Then the doctor says, "Your reaction shows me that you like better a boy
than a girl don't you?" Claude is confused and says, "Well... I don't
know..." but the doctor says, "I'm a doctor, you can tell me without
problems. You never tried it with a man?" and he, "No, not yet." And the
doctor, continuing to wank him, says, "But you surely thought about
doing it, you would like to try, wouldn't you?" and Claude nods a yes
and the doctor says, "wouldn't you like to play with mine as I'm playing
with yours?"

Claude is more and more confused and says, "Maybe." Then the doctor
locks the door with the key, goes back to him, opens his trousers and
tells, "go on, pull it out." and Claude, still lying on the stretcher,
wanks the doctor and feels he likes having that hard thing in his hand.
Then the doctor moves placing it near his head and asks, "Now lick it
for a while..." and Claude, now totally turned on, doesn't think twice
and obeys. The doctor continues to wank him but with the other hand
rummages between his butts and pushes a finger in his hole and Claude
likes that so much that he is able to cum at once.

Then the doctor gives him a small piece of cloth and tells him, "Clean
yourself, boy. You have nothing to worry, as you see; your thing works
properly." And while he puts back his thing in his trousers, says, "Now
you can dress. If you want a check-up, you can come to this address, in
my private surgery. If you come around 7 pm, the nurse has already gone
back home and we can be alone..." But Claude never went to see that
doctor again, because he was too ashamed.

Anyway, in that occasion he got the confirmation he liked males and also
that he loved having something up his ass. The second one was one of his
soccer-mates, once they were the last two to shower and the others were
already back home. In the showers they just touched each other and
sucked each other. Then his mate in another occasion told him that he
wanted to fuck his ass, and they went to the river side, in the bushes,
and Claude lost his cherry to his mate, and loved it.

As this mate was also a friend of Bernard and they had sex together, he
said to Bernard about Claude. Thus Bernard, once brought him in the
abandoned blind tunnel, pulled down his trousers and fucked him. That
first time Claude was scared to die, fearing they could be caught, so
that he didn't even get a hard-on but he enjoyed all the same the fuck.
So he let Bernard fuck him again and again and loved that. The fourth
one was his sergeant in the army, then I am the fifth one, besides a few
one night stands he had...

I think that being fatherless and with my family to provide for, I will
not be called in the army, and that's a pity, because according to what
Thibault and Claude told me, there are lots of good occasions to have
sex with a man, when you are in the army.


Monday August 13th, '73

Today, during our walk, we saw a big rock, around three meters tall, in
the shape of a huge hard cock, with also the gland on the top. Claude
hugged and kissed it and he was so funny that I laughed till I cried.
Then, still holding it with his spread arms, he started to move up and
down with all his body, rubbing it, and I told him, "stop, Claude, come
on!" and he answered, without stopping, "Why? Are you jealous?" and I,
"No, but we don't have an umbrella. If it cums, it soaks us to our
bones!" and both we laughed like mad men. Then he says, "Come here,
let's climb on it, so we can fuck up there." "Are you crazy? If somebody
comes in here..." I say and he, "No, almost nobody passes in this spot."
"No, no. The 'almost' is way too much, to me. And also, I don't want to
cut a bad figure in comparison to that huge thing!" I say, and he, "No
way, you can't cut a bad figure - yours is not so big but is way much
nicer. And then, it's my luck that yours is not so big! Yours is just
the right size for me."

Claude is really genial and now, as a joke, instead of saying cock or
dick, we say "rock". For instance, one of us says "I really feel like
climbing a rock, now!" or something alike.


August 14, 1973, Thursday

We were making love, this afternoon, when somebody knocked at the door
downstairs. Claude left the bed and leaned out of the window calling,
"Who's there?" It was his brother with a girl. We dressed back, fast as
lightning, and went downstairs in a hurry to open the door. The brother
is younger than Claude, he must be 26. He asks Claude in a very low
voice, "Can't you live us the house for a couple or three hours?" Claude
answers, "But in three hours here it is already night..." And his
brother, "I know, but the weather is fine. Come on, brother, I can
possibly fuck her..."

So, with the pretext we had to go down the valley to make provisions, we
went out. We did a wide stroll then we went back. Marcel, Claude's
brother, and the girl were sitting in the kitchen sipping coffee as if
nothing happened. Claude, entering the kitchen asked, "Did you have a
good time?" and from Marcel's smile and the girl's blushing we
understood that their answer was a good "yes". We chatted a while then
the couple left. Then Claude tells me, "We were forced to interrupt
something very enjoyable, don't you remember?" and I, "Sure. Come
upstairs and we'll start again from where we had to stop..."

Later, during supper, Claude says, "you think you'll get married?" and
I, "I don't know, but I think not, really. And you?" "I think I have to.
You know how it is in our village..." and I, "But your brother, Marcel,
knows about you?" And he, "Are you crazy? At home nobody suspects
anything, happily. They would kill me, my father the first."

Not all the fathers are like that doctor I saw in St. Etienne, or to say
better, almost no one.


August 16, '73, Tuesday

Yesterday evening, while we were entering the house with our supplies, a
young man with a rucksack arrived and asked, "Sorry, can I have some
water, please?" So we brought him in the kitchen. He leaves his rucksack
on the floor and Claude gives him a big mug with fresh water and tells
him to sit down for a while, 'cause he seems tired. The young man thanks
and sits down. He is wearing tight shorts from which stick out a good
pair of strong legs and a good bump shows in his fly, so that I ain't
able to remove my gaze and also Claude looks at him with eyes that show
how much he too is having some little thought.

Then Claude asks, "Would you help yourself with some wine or some little
food?" and our nice guest, "No, thank you. What's your name?" we tell
him and ask his name. "Guy. Are you brothers?" he asks and I, "No,
friends" but Claude meanwhile answers, "Cousins" and the boy looks at us
thoughtfully and asks, "Well, cousins or friends?" Then Claude explains,
"we tell the villagers we are cousins to avoid they think ill of us, you
know..." At that Guy smiles, "you means they can understand you are
boyfriends?"

At that I think he is just a tourist and we risk nothing, and possibly
he is interested in some fun, therefore I say, "Yeah, you know how they
think in these villages, they cannot understand that two men can be so
intimate to share a bed and..." I see Claude is somewhat bewildered but
says nothing.

Guy nods and says, "You are a very nice couple. Are you an open or
closed one?" I don't understand what he means and ask him and he
explains, "Yes, I mean, in bed do you prefer to be you two alone or do
you like also a threesome?" At that I say, "well, to somebody like you,
I wouldn't say a no if you want to be the third one." Then I look at
Claude and ask him, "what do you feel like?" and Claude nods a yes. Then
Guy says, "If you like, I can spend the night here with you... in your
bed..."

So he stopped with us. After supper we went all three upstairs. Guy
comes from Paris. He is an observant gay (his own words) and as soon as
he saw us he thought he would have loved trying to do it with us and
that asking for some water was just a pretext. He has a quite hairy
body, even though not too much, and he is well built, as he does lot of
gym. He likes both being a top and a bottom, therefore we both enjoyed
his company. For a work he is an advertisement photographer and says he
also shots some nudes, male models, who often are game, so that after
shooting the pics, he takes them in his bed.

I told him I would like having a picture of a totally naked man and he
promised me to send me some and asked for my address. He said he will
send them between two strong cardboards as a mail-parcel, so that nobody
can understand what it contains, and I have nothing to worry. He is 35
but seems younger; I thought he was same age with Claude. When we
decided it was time to sleep, it was almost dawn, so we slept quite up
to noon. Guy woke up the first and started to make love again waking up
us with caresses and licks and sucks and no one of us two complained or
stopped him, nay! Later we had lunch.

Claude asked him if he wanted to stop some more with us, but Guy has to
be, before this evening, at the chair-lift hotel, where he has to meet
his boyfriend. He didn't really say boyfriend, but "husband" and I felt
funny this word... He says that his boyfriend knows he has, but not too
often, some little adventure, but he is not jealous. He says it is
really great living together. Claude asked him, "but you don't' want to
marry?" and Guy, "with a woman? God save! I'm gay and if I marry, it
will only be with a male." "But two males cannot marry" I objected. And
Guy, "Not in the church or in the town hall, that's true. But if you
exchange the rings in front of your friends and live together with your
lover, it is right like being married, isn't it? What's the difference?"

I never thought to this possibility. I think I would like being able to
marry with a man. With Claude? I don't know. With Jacques? At once, if
we just were still together!


Friday August 17, '73

Yesterday Claude saw me writing in this diary and wanted to read it but
I said to him no, said I never allowed anyone to read it and he didn't
insist. I don't feel like letting others red what I write, it is just
for me. Happily he has a good character and didn't feel bad for my no.

I think Guy made a hit on Claude, today he didn't talk but of him. Guy
gave us his address and told us, if we go to Paris, we have to pay him a
visit, as he would like taking our pictures... naked, of course. Claude
says he would like going, and also that if he could live in Paris, who
knows how many boys he could meet. I asked him: "and would you marry
with one?" and him, "why not! In Paris is not like in our village, where
if you don't marry a girl they look at you with suspect. In there you
are free, it is a big town it is the capital city." I then said to him,
"it's a pity that in Paris they don't have coal mines..." and he laughed
for good.


Saturday, the 18th of August, '73

For me this is the day before the last. Tomorrow afternoon Claude will
bring me back home. He has one more week of vacation.

This morning when I woke up, saw he had a nice hard-on, so I started
sucking it and he moaned, "Guy..." then opened his eyes and said, "it's
great waking up in this way," and I asked him "disappointed I'm not
Guy?" and he, "no way, silly boy!" and turned over to do a 69. Then he
lied down on his tummy, asking me to take him. The window was open and
we had the sunrays on our bodies, and the air was fine and it has been
really good. Then he says, "You know I can never get tired doing these
things with you?" and I, "Yes, I know. I too will never get tired. It's
a pity that now, for a week, we will be apart. And then, that we can do
it only down there in the mine. Here it has been really great. If we had
a place like this in our village..." he sighs and says, "We have to be
content with this little. Anyway, with you I like doing it even down
there in the mine. I really like you."


August 19th, 1973, Sunday

At home again. Claude went back up there. I don't know why, but my home
atmosphere makes me depressed. Mum is now always in her bed. Babette,
besides her work, has to carry on all the house chores, and is always
really tired, I feel so bad for Babette, above all the fact that she, so
good at school, had to quit. I understand that the pain for Mum is
great, but it is so for us also. She could make an effort, leave her
bed, and care at least for the home. But possibly I'm unfair judging
her... But even Corinne and Did" became so silent and I feel it is not
good for them, in addition to having lost our Dad, seeing Mum in that
condition. Only Eric and Etienne, for the moment, seem unworried. I
would like Babette to have a week of vacation, but she doesn't want,
because she would not be paid if she takes vacation, moreover she
doesn't want to leave home. I insisted but she became upset, therefore I
stopped talking about that.


Thursday, August 23, 1973

Today the foreman, when I had just changed my clothes and was about
going to take the hoist to go down to the galleries, called me and told
me to go to the offices because they need a couple of us to move some
furniture, and to show to the secretary of our boss, Madame Rochat. With
me has to come also Rillon, who works in the gallery 12, a boy I know
just by sight.

So we had to change again our clothes, then we went upstairs and
presented ourselves to Madame Rochat. She explained us that the boss'
son will come to work here, so we have to empty a room and to bring
inside the new furniture they are unloading downstairs from a truck.
Even if it will be a good drudgery, I'm happy, as at least it is a work
at the open air and not in all that coal dust that you feel entering
right in your brains. And anyway also working down there is a good
drudgery. Rillon is a funny guy, he has a tic and at times he twists his
nose as if he is feeling a stench. Moreover, even tough he is young he
speaks only in the old, strict dialect.

We toiled all the day long, and during the lunch stop, the cleaning
personnel cleaned the room we emptied then we brought upstairs the new
furniture. But at evening it was not yet all done, so Madame Rochat told
us she will notify our foreman that we have to go to help also tomorrow.
Good, another day under the sun. On the door of the new office for the
boss' son they already put a new, shining plate where it is carved "Jean
Luc Boisselet". I wonder what he will be like. I saw his father just
once, at my Dad's funerals. The boss is a tall man, fair auburn, with a
short, trimmed beard, round gold lorgnette, severe face awe inspiring.
The boss must be around 50; therefore his son is possibly between 20 and
30 years old.


23 of August '73, Thursday

Also today I worked for the office of the boss' son, the young master,
as Madame Rochat calls him, but we drudged a little less than yesterday.
Madame Rochat leads our work as if she was a battle-axe. What guts she
has! Put this here, that there, no, more straight, so, good, be careful,
careful I said! Ugh! Then we had to bring upstairs big boxes with
papers, books, files, then pots with plants to make nicer the room, then
paintings for the walls... to sum up, it is like it will be the Republic
President who has to work in there! For sure you cannot recognize this
room now, compared with the old office - it looks a lot nicer. Shortly
before the lunch stop the boss personally came to check if everything
was in order, and again, move that, change this... That man is really
awe inspiring - he looks at you as if he was gauging you with a meter,
weighting you with an assay balance. If he just was able to smile, he
could possibly be a handsome man.

It was half afternoon when all the work came to an end and Madame Rochat
told us, "it's useless for you two to go down to the galleries at this
time. I'll take advantage of you to move some files to the archives."

So we ended our day out of the galleries.


Monday 27 August 1973

I'm the happiest man in the world!

MIRACLES DO HAPPEN!!!

Life is unbelievable, shit if I'm happy and excited. And I'm not even
able to describe how I feel so much I am confused and... I don't know!

Since Friday I was again down in the gallery 38 as usual. Then, today,
I'm about going down again and the foreman tells me, "DŽtraz, change
your clothes and go once more to see Madame Rochat. She needs you
again." And I, "Rillon too is coming?" and he, "no, she asked only for
you. She says one is enough and she wants you as you ain't so uncouth
like Rillon."

So I change again my clothes and go upstairs to the offices. The
battle-axe measures me with her eyes and says, "Ah, good, here you are.
Mister Boisselet wants to move something, go fast to his office. And
knock at the door, before going in." Sure I'll knock at the door, I
think, I'm not a primitive, but I say, "Which one, the father or the
son?" and she, out of patience, "the son, the son! He arrived this
morning and doesn't like what I did. Even though his father fully
approved what I did." she says with an irritated voice. Then she talks
in the intercom, all milk and honey and it is appalling how she changed
her voice, and says, "Mister Boisselet, the workman is here." A metallic
and unpleasant voice answers, "Good send him to my office." So she makes
me a short gesture to go and I go. I knock at the door and hear a faint
"come in". I enter the office and close the door and see a young man
standing, who looks out from the window, so I just see his back. As soon
as I close the door he turns towards me and...

I don't know which one of us has the most astounded expression, he or I,
and he says, "Alain!" and I, "Jacques!"

Yes, it was really him, even if now he wears a jacked and a necktie, it
is really him standing in front of me. And then he says, "What are you
doing here, Alain?" and I, "I'm a miner, here, I work here. But you,
what are you doing in the boss' son office?" he makes a faint smile and
says, "The fact is that from now on this is my office. That I'm the
boss' son." And I, at first, cannot believe that, so I say, "But on the
plate they wrote Jean Luc and not Jacques." He says, "My name is Jean
Luc." And I, "so you talked balls to me." And he, "No, at home and my
friends call me that way, but it ain't Jacques, but Jac, the beginning
of Jean and the end of Luc. I never told you a lie, Alain, never." Then
we remained there still, in silence, looking at each other, and I felt
my heart drumming so aloud, and my head spinning...

Then he says, "I waited for you, that Tuesday, then for several
Tuesdays. Why didn't you come again? Were you tired of me?" and I, "no,
oh no, no! It is that, the day before that Tuesday we had to meet, my
father died here in the mine, a gallery collapse, and so, you
understand... and after, I had to stop studying in St. Etienne and had
to come here to work, so I couldn't come on Tuesdays." And he, "yes, I
heard about the accident. But didn't know your father was involved. I'm
really so sorry. I understand you could not come. But why you stopped
your studies, you were near getting your BAC. And why you work here,
now?" "Of course I had to stop studying and now I work. Who could bring
money home, after my dad's death? I was lucky I was hired here, at his
place."

Then he looks up and down to me and smiles and says with a sweet voice:
"I see you still have my key-holder on you." And I say, "of course. But
do you still have my coin?" I was sure he didn't have it any more, but
he says nothing, loosens his necktie, opens a little his shirt and pulls
out a thin golden chain and hanging from it there is my coin. He shows
it to me and says, "I never forget to wear it, you see?"

Then he approaches me, takes me in his arms and kisses me in my mouth. I
feel like melting down, but am embarrassed and tense and he perceives
that then says, "Aren't you glad we could meet again, Alain?" and I, on
the brim of tears, "damn, yes, sure!" and he, "I too am happy, I did
nothing but thinking of you in all these months. So, then, why are you
so tense?" and I, "don't you understand? You are the boss and I just a
miner." He looks at me then says, with a sweet smile (ah, his smile!),
"but we are always just you and me, aren't we?" and I, "but look just
only our clothes - you are out of a fashion magazine, and I with patches
more than clothes!" and he, "but when naked, what's the difference?" and
I, "but we cannot be always naked..."

He looks at me, and looks at me, then says, his voice full of emotion,
"but I want to be again with you. Even now, if you knew how much I would
like to make love with you. Not you?" I blush, I don't know why, than
say, "About that, I too would like it a lot. But how can we manage?" and
he, "now it's easier than before, don't you see? We both are here. I
have now to work both here and in Paris, but each week, I will spend
three days here." And I, "and so? We cannot possibly do it here in your
office, can we? But what can I do, one of your workers, a miner, at your
home? It would be really strange, wouldn't it? And you at my place, not
even to talk about. Will we go in the fields in night time? At night I'm
tired to die, I need to sleep, and I'm presumed to sleep at home. It is
no more like when I was a student, unhappily, don't you understand?"

So we discussed. He wants at any cost we start our relationship again. I
too would like that so very much, but I know these are just dreams. Then
he stops discussing, asks me to sit down and starts asking me lot of
questions, about me, my family, my situation.  Then, at one point, I
say, "tell me what for you called a worker here, what do I have to
change or move." And he, "never mind that, now!" and I, "don't you think
Madame Rochat could think strange I was here all this time without
moving a single piece?" and he, "let me care for her. Even better..."
and he buttons back his shirt and put in order his necktie, while
calling her at the intercom and says, "Bring to me here the DŽtraz file,
please." And her voice cracks, "the father or son?" and he replies, "The
son, the son!"

So I ask him, "what do you want to do?" and him, "just an idea. But I
need to know something - you really want to be with me again, don't you?
Or else, you would not have kept that cheap key holder for so many
months on you." And I, "but I always thought of Jacques, never of my
boss' son. It seems so difficult, now..." and he, "but we can make it
easy." In that moment Madame Rochat knocks at the door and puts a file
on Jac's desk, then looks around, sees that everything is at the same
place an makes a funny face, then looks at Jac and asks, "some problem,
mister Boisselet?" and he says, calmly, "no, Madame Rochat, everything
is fine." And she, with a droll voice, "but everything is as before..."
and he, "I'll make the changes later. Now I have to talk with my friend
DŽtraz. You can go, thank you." She gapes, shut her mouth, opens it
again, closes it once more and she looks like a fish out of the water
and she is so funny that I have to make an effort non to burst in
laughter, and at last she goes out.

He giggles. I say, "Do you think it is wise having told her I'm your
friend?" and he, "but you are my friend, aren't you?" "But what can she
possibly think - somebody like you friend with one like me?" and he,
"don't worry. I met you when you were a student and I was training. She
is not presumed to know we met at the freight-yard, is she?" I can't
understand and tell him so. He is leafing through my papers. Than he
says, "listen, you will stop working down in the galleries and will come
to work here in my office, with me. After all you were very close to
getting your BAC." And I replied, "But, to do what?" "I need a private
secretary a girl or a boy. You'll earn even a higher salary. You will
also do extra hours for me, and you can earn twice or even more than
now. Don't you like this offer? And so we will also be able to spend
time together." And I, "You'll pay me extra hours each time I come in
bed with you? A kind of private slut?"

His eyes became dark, darker, and I feared he was about to cuff me.
Then, with a voice so hard I never heard such one before, he says, "I
never offended you so why are you now offending me? I'll pay you for the
work you do, nothing more. The other thing... if you feel like, you do
it, if not, you don't. Why are you saying so evil things to me? Who do
you think I am?" And I replied, troubled and upset, "Possibly because
I'm afraid. I have to work, as I have a family on my shoulders. As a
miner I earn a low wage, but a sure one. If a day I get tired of you, or
you of me, I can find myself on my beam-ends. Let me work as a miner,
please. Find another boy to be with, someone at your level. You can have
met plenty of them, in these months, I don't know how many, somebody
handsome, rich and intelligent as you are." I say, trying not to start
crying.

"After I met you, Alain, I never made love with any other boy or man,
because inside me I still hoped to find you again, even if it seemed
impossible. Also when I went back to the freight-yard in the hope to
meet you again, ever other week, when somebody approached me I always
refused, because I hoped to meet you. And when I stopped going there,
while driving in St. Etienne near a high school I always hoped to see
you going in or coming out... And now, you are telling me you are afraid
of me?"

I felt the longing for hugging him, taking him tight in my arms, kissing
him, having sex with him... and crying. But I remained silent and still,
there, in front of him. Then he said, "But I understand what you are
saying. Well. So, listen to me - I'll offer you two different tings, one
being a better job, and the other being my friendship. The first one is
anyway yours. About the second one, when you get tired of my friendship,
you have just to ask to be moved to another office, but the job remains
yours. I swear." And I replied, "but what, if it is you to get tired of
me?" "Nothing changes. I'll ask you to work in another office but you
will have your job and your pay, as the other clerks. I don't play games
with your life, with your job. You have nothing to risk. I'm not such a
person, I'm an honest man. Don't you believe me?" and I, "Yes, I do,
even though we still know each other so little." "But I would like we
could know each other better and better. So, do you accept?" So I said
him, "let me some time to think about it. I like you too much, you know
that, and I'm afraid not being able to think logically, but to follow
just my wishes."

He smiled me and said, "then, now you will go back home to think about
my offer. We will meet again tomorrow, here." And he orders to make me
the authorization to leave the work and to go back home. I went for a
stroll all the day long to be able to be alone and think about his
offer. I also missed my lunch.

On the one hand I'm so happy having met him again. I would have loved
having again sex with him, even there in his office, today. And I'd like
a lot being his boyfriend... If he was not the boss' son, wouldn't I
have answered him yes at once? Sure! So, what changes? If he wants I and
I want him... Moreover, he still has my coin; he put it at his neck, and
never pulls it away. And also, he says he never went with other boys,
not like I did, on the contrary...

But is he really sincere? Having found out he is rich made me feel bad,
I thought he was more or less one of my same social level. Rich people,
it is said, just want to follow their fancy then at once they lose
interest. They seem to change their lovers the same someone changes his
sheets on his bed. What if he too is that way? But he treasured my
copper coin, framed it in gold and hanged it at his neck as a very
precious thing.

Tomorrow I've to go back there and give him an answer. If I tell him
yes, I'll put myself in his hands. He says I'm free, but that's not
true. If I didn't have my family to support, the risk would be only
mine, and I would be more than ready to take that risk. Yes, I would be
ready to take that risk, sure! And then... I feel he is sincere.

I said nothing at home, as I cannot explain everything therefore what
advise can they give me? If I just could talk with somebody. But with
whom? I cannot go around revealing that the boss' son is gay. Not to
Philippe and even less to Claude.

I feel its better I hit my bed, now. Who knows that tomorrow morning
I'll have more clear thoughts.

But...

MIRACLES REALLY HAPPEN.

Even though I still don't know what to do.

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

CONTINUES IN PART 10

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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
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