The contents of this story is purely fictional although based on real life happenings in my life. All names have been fictionalize to protect the innocent and not so innocent. The content matter of this story concerns love and sex between males teenagers. If this is not what you like reading or it is illegal for you to read this material because of age or laws go somewhere else. This story is copyrighted by it's owner and may not be copied or published elsewhere without the owners permission.
Thanks for your e-mails and kind comments.
I hope you like this chapter. I welcome your comments.
I had been living in my apartment and working for Philippe for a month and a half. Philippe was an extraordinary photographer and I loved his work and I think I had a bit of a crush on him, but never expressed it to him. I had four really good paintings, which Claude was ecstatic about. My French was improving.
I’d received a letter from my Mom saying that they were sad about what happened and they had talked to Bastian the day that it happened and they were happy to see that I was alive and well. They promised they would not tell Bastian where I was but that I was alive and well.
I wrote them back telling them about Philippe and Claude and that I would be sending them money soon because I was becoming a very popular model. I told them that I still loved Bastian more than anything and think of him daily that until Bastian is one hundred percent with me without the need to seek sex or love from other quarters then I did not want to see him and if that means forever then it would be forever. But when and if he makes that choice I will be here waiting.
Philippe had followed me around one day to try and get some promo shots for the up and coming gallery showing of my art and the official debut of Claude’s new protégé. It was a hot day and I was in shorts – well cutoff jeans and a t-shirt at one point I was painting a scene near the Seine and took off my t-shits. Philippe snapped away and finally he said, “Leo, it’s lunch time and I’m done!” he leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
He left and I continued painting. After and hour I quit and packed up my stuff because I knew Philippe had another photo shot he wanted me in and I had to get cleaned up. I’d be working for a couple of hours. When I got to Philippe’s studio he seemed ecstatic.
“Leo! I have the photo of you for your poster! It is fantastic! Incredible! I love you so much! You know why?”
“No, I have no clue.” I giggled.
“Because you are so beautiful and you are going to make me famous!”
“I’m going to make you famous?”
“Yes! Come! Look! See for yourself!” he exclaimed as he drug me into the darkroom to show me my photo. It was a fantastic photo I couldn’t believe it. The lighting, composure caught my intense expression. I wasn’t smiling and yet I had – I don’t know. A sex appeal. A very sexy appeal.”
“We you pose for me in the nude, not porno, artistic! I would not show any private parts all though I am sure they are as beautiful as you.”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t know if this was just a come on. Finally, I said as I exited the darkroom, “Only after you and Claude let me paint a nude painting of you two together.”
“Hmmm. That I will have to think about and discuss with my lover.”
The last week of August the poster’s promoting my debut in October hit the streets so to speak. But something was happening. Half of the posters had been posted or about 5000 and over half of them had been taken down there was a ‘Leo’ craze – and the posters were being black marketed amongst teens for as much as fifty dollars and more. Claude being the businessman he is saw an opportunity he had twenty-five thousand posters printed up and distributed at newsstands. They were gone in a week. Now it was not only the teens but also everyone wanted the ‘Leo’ poster. My French was pretty good and the next thing I knew I was in front of TV cameras being interviewed. I guess I came across pretty well because Claude was lining up the talk shows and being very particular about what show I was going to be on.
The BBC even wanted to do an interview the phenomenon grew now over 200,000 copies of the poster had been sold and it was confirmed that English populace had joined the frenzy. Claude flew me to London Gatwick where a limo would pick me up and take me to the London Savoy and then the next morning to the BBC Studios for the interview. Neither he nor Philippe accompanied me because neither spoke English that well. I did not expect to be greeted by 5000 screaming teens. I was ushered from the plane to the limo via a special customs and immigration person who asked for my autograph.
When I got to the Savoy I decided to call home. Ida answered and I talked with her a bit then I talked with Dad and Mom told them what had happened and that I wouldn’t be home until after my debut. They were worried because they hadn’t heard for Bastian. He had missed the boat in Southampton to return after talking for nearly an hour I hung up.
I worried about Bastian and I realized I was still madly in love with him. I had had many opportunities to have sex with others male or female since I’d split from him. Life was good for me but he was missing from it and nothing could replace him.
The phone rang startling me.
“Excuse me sir there’s a young man here who claims to be your step brother?”
“Bastian?” I all but whispered.
“Yes sir, he gave his name as Sebastian McCormick. Shall I send him up?”
A few minutes later there was a knock at my door. I opened the door and there was Sebastian.
Within seconds we were in each other’s arms and sobbing. He had spent the whole summer looking for me. John had lied to him in order to get him in bed and John turned out to be very wealthy and so he didn’t have to wait for Sam to send money. Until last week he had not found me and he had spent the last week trying to get near me. He said I would love Italy.
“I nearly gave up a couple of times…once when I was standing on a bridge in Germany…I was going to jump,” his tears rolled down his cheeks, “some German girl stopped me and then last week in Paris. I was up the Arc du Triumph and just before I went to stand on the ledge, the wind was blowing and some girl lost here poster the wind caught it and it hit me right in the crotch of all places. I pulled it of and she was very grateful but not half as grateful as I when I saw your face. The poor girl probably thought I was crazy.”
I know many people would think I’m crazy to forgive and forget but well I’ve done half of that. I have forgiven him of that transgression against our marriage. Maybe we are not married in the eyes of God or the Pope or the state, but in our hearts we are united and that’s better than many of those who are united in the eyes of some authority but are not united in their hearts.
very little else to tell you except that we still live in Europe and visit
the states occasionally Bastian is 60 and I am now 58 and oh yes we are
and have since that time been monogamous.
That's all folks!
that's the end of this story. Checkout 'Mother' on Nifty High School &
college Section. It's written by Sam Lakes one of my best friends and promises
to be a fantasic story!