WE ARE PRESUMED TO BE ENEMIES 4
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, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest.
WE ARE PRESUMED
TO BE ENEMIES
by Andrej Koymasky © 2020
written on August 18th 1994
Translated by the Author
English text kindly revised by Nick
4 - MANFRED THE GERMAN
After a few nights, Simon became friends with one of the boys of the garden. His name was Charles; he was a twenty year old. He offered him to go to sleep at his place. He lived in a small room in an attic, but there were two beds - a companion had left him a few months before to go to Paris.
"How comes that you are not in the army?" Simon asked him.
"Reject. Weak heart, they said. I don't feel so, but I didn't protest, of course."
"Your family?"
"I left them. To live my life. You can guess, if they knew I like to fuck with men! My father, a little middle class man of sterling character..." Charles laughed.
"How did you became aware you liked men?" Simon, who already told his story, asked him.
"I was fifteen. My dearest friend and me were playing and wrestling on his bed, and he became aroused and kissed me... and I too became aroused. So he touched me there and told me he wanted to make love with me, I just said yes, we undressed and he took me, as he had been doing it for a year with others."
"And you became lovers."
"No. Afterwards I was ashamed. I really liked it, but I was ashamed of him, I don't know why, therefore I avoided him, after that time. But about two months after, I was on the beach with my family, I started to spy on the lifeguard, when he was changing his clothes, a young man twenty-four years old. Once he caught me, so he grabbed me and took me inside the storage room. I thought he was going to beat the shit out of me, and instead he lowered my swimming trunks, put me on my belly and fucked me. I again enjoyed it a lot, so for all the holidays I let him fuck me. So, back home, I went to see my friend, once when my parents were not at home, and invited him to my place. He came at once, happy. At home I told him strait and clear I wanted to fuck him. He immediately accepted. Then he introduced me to other boys who were game, and at times we did it also all together - what orgies we had! Until, I was seventeen, at my high school I met Alain. Once, after PE, in the showers he touched me... and we became lovers. But when war burst out, he vas called and went to fight. And he became POW just at the start. No news from him. So I left home and came here. And here I met the boy who was sleeping in that bed and who taught me to hustle."
"Did you have sex with him?"
"At times, but seldom."
"And did you have sex with the Germans?"
"Sure. It is not wise to refuse them. And then, they pay, and crave for sex like everybody else."
"And... do they have it... like everybody?" Simon asked.
Charles burst in laughter: "Sure, how should they have it, in your opinion? Even if they are our enemy, they are men exactly like us... Listen, rather, Simon, do you feel like doing it with me?"
"Yes, sure." the boy answered.
Charles rapidly undressed: "Go on, get naked too and come here, then." he said with an inviting smile. Simon went in the bed of his companion, who caressed his genitals: "To be just fifteen, you are well endowed."
"I'm almost sixteen, now."
"And you have also a very nice arse... Who fucks first? You or I?" he asked rummaging his hole with his finger.
"You first." Simon answered going on all fours.
"No, not that way. Lie on your back."
"On my back? And how can you take me if I'm on my back?" Simon puzzled asked.
"Spread your legs wide." the other expertly said.
He knelt between his thighs and lifted the boy's legs on to his shoulders, so raising his pelvis from the mattress. He spread his small firm buttocks and pointed in their centre his rod, already erect and ready. Simon let him do it and thought that he liked this way, because so he was able to look at his companion's face while he prepared himself to penetrate him. He felt it opening his way inside him, and saw the youth's muscles tense in the push, the intense expression of his face, and he thought he was handsome. He relaxed to receive that flesh pole and he brushed Charles' nipples that at once became hard.
"Good, this way... you know how to take it, good. Then we will see if you are skilled also to put it." Charles said smiling to him while he started to take him with firm thrusts. Simon smiled, satisfied, feeling the pole moving inside him with vigour.
"You like it, right?" Charles asked continuing to take him with clear pleasure.
"Why, don't you?" the boy cheerfully answered.
They made love with calm, for several minutes, until Charles reached his orgasm. Then they exchanged their positions and it was now the youth to be the bottom, his legs widely spread. Simon thought that this position was good also for the guy on top. And Simon in a while enjoyed his orgasm deep inside his elder companion.
"Do you always fuck in that position?" Simon asked him while they relaxed, side by side.
"No, just who I like."
"Then, you like me."
"It seems so."
"That's why you asked me to come to live with you?"
"Yes. But also not to be alone, and because you didn't have a place to sleep."
"Do you pay much, here? We can split in half..."
"No, I pay in goods."
"That is?"
"I go in bed with the landlord, about once each week."
"Ah, do you like your landlord?"
"Bah, he was just one of my clients and he proposed me this solution. But with him, just on all fours." he said and they both burst in laughter.
Simon remained there for several months. He was sixteen, when Charles proposed they move to Paris: "Here we start to be too crowded and prices lower, as you noticed. To many boys... I received a letter from Mathieu, the guy who was sleeping in your bed. He writes that in Paris you can earn good money."
"I don't feel like going to Paris. If we have to change, why not to go rather to the South?"
"I feel attracted by Paris. For a while we can stay at Mathieu place, I think. He is a likeable guy. Come you too, come on!"
"Really, I don't feel like. If you go to Paris, I'll possibly go to the South. Perhaps in Provence. It must be fine down there. And in winter it will be less cold. I felt fine with you, but if you leave, I too will leave."
Charles left his room to another boy, and the two bid farewell and left the town going in the two different directions. Simon stopped in two or three towns, looking for the hustling places, but without success. It seemed that in those parts there was no movement.
He arrived at Clermond Ferrant. He didn't like the town. But he was now without money, so he continued towards the south walking and hitchhiking. He arrived in a small town, Issoire; he was hungry. He thought to start again to beg, being careful not to get caught by the Germans or by the French police. He was on the main square when he saw three German soldiers come. He sat on the stairs of a house near the church with an indifferent air, waiting as they passed and went away. They were not a round patrol. But the three soldiers, when in front of the church, stopped and sat down. They chatted a while, then one of them stood up and went to buy some food from the shop in front. He came back and distributed the food to his companions and they started merrily to eat with big bites.
Simon couldn't help to look at them with envy, his mouth watering. In particular he was looking at one of them. He later knew he was twenty three. He had a slightly squared face, a tall forehead, soft dark blond hair, light hazelnut colour eyes, and a mouth with a gentle fold. Simon was not able to say if he was more attracted by the young man or his food.
The soldier became aware he being watched and looked Simon in the eyes. Then, interpreting his staring, extracted his bayonet, cut in half his sandwich and, standing up, went in front of Simon, handed him the half he hadn't bitten and said, in a fluent French:
"Take... you must be hungry, right?"
Simon nodded yes and took the sandwich, thanking him.
"What's your name?"
"Simon."
"My name is Manfred."
"How do you do." Simon said and bit with pleasure the sandwich.
"Good appetite, Simon." the youth said and went back to sit with his comrades. They said something in German and laughed. Manfred answered with an annoyed tone. Then they stood up and went away. Manfred did a light good bye gesture towards Simon and smiled at him. That smile provoked a quiver of pleasure down the boy's back.
He would have liked to see again that German soldier. Simon thought that nobody was pressing him to leave the town. He started again to beg and scraped some coins. Not too many, to tell the truth. But a woman gave him some fruit. At night Simon went to sleep at the gates of the town, where he had seen an open hayloft.
The day after he went back to the square. He begged some more coins. Then he saw him. This time he was with another soldier. As soon as Manfred saw him, said something to his comrade, then went towards Simon.
"Hi! I hoped to see you again. Here, I brought you these." he said, handing him three chocolate bars.
"Thank you, you are very kind."
"You are not from here, right?"
"Right."
"Don't you have a family?"
"No... I never had one."
"I guessed it."
"Did you? How?"
"I don't know. I felt it, simply. Now I have to go. Will I find you here this afternoon around four 'o clock?"
"Yes..."
"Then, see you later."
Simon felt excited. Manfred seemed interested in him. But why? Was perhaps Manfred too a man-lover? Simon hoped he was, he liked that German soldier, he had a fascinating smile. And was really beautiful. It could be an "enemy" he thought, but he liked him a lot. He decided to make a tour of the small town. At a certain point he passed in front of what could have been Manfred's barracks - an old school requisitioned, surrounded by rolls of barbed wire, and with sentinels. He hoped he could see him, but went past without stopping.
At three 'o clock he already was in the square. He bought some bread and ate one of the three Manfred's bars with it. It was really tasty!
Four 'o clock had just struck, when Manfred came out from the street leading from the barracks. The soldier greeted him with a light gesture.
He went near the boy: "Hi, Simon! Are you waiting for long time?"
"Just a few minutes." the boy lied, not to make the young man feel guilty.
"There is a coffee shop, nearby, would you go there with me? So we can sit a while. Is that OK? It's on me, of course."
"Yes please, thank you."
They sat. Manfred ordered a snack and two beers. He put the dish in front of the boy.
"You speak French well." the boy said.
"I like it. I studied it from child, but I have still some accent."
"But very little."
"But you can detect I'm German. I would need to talk it much more, but I have little occasions. Even though I act as interpreter for our captain. How old are you, Simon?"
"Sixteen."
"I thought older."
"Many say so."
"You are a beautiful boy. And I like your smile."
"I too, yours. And you are very beautiful."
"Where do you sleep?"
"In a hayloft."
"Will you stop here or are you going somewhere?"
"I don't yet know, I have nothing special to do, besides trying to make both ends meet. That is, it means..."
"Yes, I know this expression. I hope you can stop here. I would like if we could become friends. Talk."
"Me too."
"Really?" Manfred asked brightening in a sweet smile. Then added: "We are not so liked by French people."
"I know. But you seem to be very likeable. It would be great becoming friends."
"Thank you." Manfred said and touched lightly his hand.
Simon at that light contact quivered with pleasure, but didn't dare to move. Manfred moved away his hand. They talked more. Simon told him pieces of his life. Also the soldier - he was a painter, at the outbreak of the war he was studying at the Academy of Fine Arts of Berlin. He loved painting. Also now, in spite of not having what he needed, he drew sketches with his pencil on a copybook.
"I would like to see them."
"Tomorrow I will bring the copybook with me. And possibly I will draw your portrait in my copybook. So I will not forget you if one day we will be far from each other."
"I too would like not to forget you, if one day we will be far apart." the boy murmured.
The soldier looked at him with strange intensity. For a while they kept silent. Then Manfred murmured something in German.
"What are you saying?" Simon asked, struck by the sweet tone of the soldier, looking him in his eyes.
"Nothing, a poem of my childhood. It says that when all seems dead, cloaked by the snow, the snowdrop blooms, and announces that life continues, that life is beautiful."
"A beautiful poem..."
"No, rather trivial, but this verse... You made me think of a snowdrop. I am happy I met you."
"Me too. Even if I am not able to say it with a poem. But you are an artist. You know how to find, how to use words."
"At times I too am not able to find the words." Manfred said with an almost shy smile. Then looked at his watch: "I have still very few minutes, then I have to be back to the barracks. Can we meet, tomorrow?"
"Sure, with pleasure. I will count the hours."
"Here at four 'o clock, is that good?"
"Sure."
"Ah, I brought you this." Manfred said while standing up, handing him a small parcel, "Bye, see you tomorrow."
It was three more chocolate bars, a pack of biscuits and a tin of canned meat.
They met several days. Manfred always offered him something at the coffee shop, and gave him some food. So Simon had just to buy the bread and some fruits with the coins he begged on the streets.
One day Manfred said him: "Simon, would you like to come to work in our barracks? The man who did our laundry fell ill and the captain is looking for another to replace him. I can suggest he hires you, if you like. You can also have a folding bed inside the barrack, if you want. And you would also earn a salary."
"I would like."
"And we can meet more often."
"It would be great."
"I... hope the captain will say yes."
"Me too, Manfred."
"Inside the barracks, in these days, I have lot of free time." Manfred said, and Simon, who started to know him, understood what the youth wanted, but had not the courage, to say.
"When I too am free from the work, we could spend our free time together?"
"Yes..."
"Do you sleep alone, or with others?"
"With five other soldiers."
"I too will have to sleep with others?"
"I don't think so, you are not a soldier. Perhaps I can have your bed placed in a quiet place. There is a small room on the back of the wardrobe room, it could be a convenient place. Now there is the ironing table, but there must be enough place for a folding bed."
The following day Manfred, with a luminous smile, told him: "Our captain wants to meet you. He seems favourably disposed. Can you come now, with me, to my barracks?"
"Yes, sure. What is the captain like?"
"A good man. Of few words, but a good captain. If you give him a good impression, he will hire you."
"How can I give him a good impression?"
"It's enough you be yourself, Simon. You cannot but give a good impression. And then, I will be there as an interpreter, don't worry. Can we go?"
Through Manfred the captain asked him some questions, than he gave his approval and charged Manfred with settling Simon in. They went out of the captain's office and Manfred showed him the barracks, then showed him where he thought to put the folding bed. The wardrobe was a room on the ground floor with three doors, one opened to the courtyard where the clotheslines were, one to the corridor, which lead to the kitchen and the mess room, and the third opened to the small ironing room.
In the main room there were closets with bed sheets, pillowcases, towels and other spare linen, on the empty shelves where place the personal linen of the soldiers, marked with numbers, after washing and ironing them. A kind of counter divided in two the room so that who came to give his dirty clothes or came to fetch the clean ones, did not have access to the part with the closets and shelves or with the ironing room.
"You see, you cannot lock the doors, but this counter can assure you your privacy. And here is the ironing room. We will put your folding bed against this wall, is it OK?"
"Will you come to meet me here?" Simon said looking at him and feeling a strong desire to embrace and to kiss him.
"If you want me here, yes. Here you allow entering only who you want."
"You can enter here whenever you want. But only you."
"Just me?"
"Yes, you only." Simon said and brushed Manfred hand in a light caress.
The soldier smiled, and took his hand. Their fingers intertwined, squeezed. Simon leaned against the wall, took Manfred hand at his lips and lightly kissed it: "Because I like you." he murmured.
Manfred leaned against him, pressing him to the wall, kissed him on his lips, and murmured: "I like you too, Simon, very much."
Simon parted his lips and waited. Manfred passed lightly his fingertips on the boy's lips then kissed him, this time intimately, deeply. Simon shuddered and pushed himself against the young man's body.
"Would you like to become my boyfriend, Simon?" the German asked with a deep, warm, sensual voice.
"Yes, Manfred, I want to be yours."
"I desire you so much, from the first instant I saw you. You are a really beautiful boy, and have a so sweet smile..."
"You want me?"
"Yes..."
"Now? Here?" Simon readily said.
"No, later. When you are settled. On your bed."
"Choose it wide and strong, then!" Simon said with a cunning smile, brushing himself against the soldier's groin, to feel through the clothing his erection.
Manfred kissed him again in his mouth, cupping his hands on his small, firm buttocks, and pulling him against his body, to make him feel better his strong excitation.
"Go to fetch the bed, now, soon..." the boy murmured.
"Come with me to the store rooms, we will choose it together." the soldier said, almost unwillingly parting from him.
Instead of a folding bed, they took a low sprung bed base without frame and two mattresses, a pillow, and they set them up in the small room. Then the sheets and blankets from the wardrobe, and the bed was ready.
"I think you can be comfortable, here." Manfred said.
"Yes... can't we... try it, now?" Simon asked with hope.
"In a short while it will be dinner time. Come, I get you your mess-tin. The captain also charged me to introduce you as the new linen boy, this evening at the mess."
"After dinner, will you came to see me here?"
"Yes, sure, I'll come to see you." Manfred answered smiling and lightly caressing his cheek.
In the mess that had been created out of the former school's gym, there were about one hundred people, among the rank and file. The officers were eating in another room. The mess was noisy, lively. Manfred got the mess-tin for Simon and told him to carve on them his initial letters as soon as possible. Then he talked with the Sergeant on duty who ordered the silence. So Manfred introduced Simon to the soldiers, telling them that Simon was the new linen-boy, and that he would start his service on the following morning. He guided the boy to his table, where he introduced him his roommates, and they ate.
"If you want again of food you go and asks. No probleme." the soldier whose name was Alfred said him in his approximate French. He was sitting at his left and was a thirty years old man, somewhat short and stocky, but with a likeable face.
"Thank you, I ate enough." Simon answered.
"You must eat, become big, find girl, and jump on her!" the man said laughing and winking to him.
They went to wash their mess-tin, then Manfred said: "Now I have to go for tomorrow's orders. But then I'll come to you. Will you wait for me in your room?"
"Sure." Simon said lightly quivering with anticipation of that "then" full of promises.
He went to his small room, pulled out his shoes and lay down on the blankets, in wait. The lamp hanging bare from the ceiling spread a halo of light, not strong, amber-coloured. Between his bed and the door, they had set, like a screen, a small closet for Simon's belongings. He didn't have but a few things, that he put inside in order, and the closet shelves were almost empty. Simon looked at the tall ceiling from which hung some dusty webs. And he was thinking of Vincent, Rene, Didier, Charles... and now Manfred.
He liked the German soldier. He had a gentleness in his eyes that enchanted him, that literally fascinated him. His low and warm voice was extremely sensual. And he moved with an elegance that made him guess he had a lean and pleasant body.
He was immersed in these thoughts, when he heard a knocking at the wardrobe room door, then Manfred voice asked: "May I?"
"Come in." Simon answered with emotion. The soldier came.
He had in his hands a small parcel and a bottle of white wine. "I brought something..." He said opening the parcel and showing to the boy two cream puffs.
Simon sat up on the bed and took one of them: "Thank you. A cake to celebrate our friendship?"
Manfred sat on the edge of the bed smiling and nodding. They ate the puffs, then Manfred opened the bottle and handed it to the boy. Simon drank some sips - it was a sweet wine, very good. He passed the bottle to the soldier who drank in his turn, then put the bottle on the ironing table.
"I'm happy you are here." Manfred said in a murmur, caressing his hair, "May I embrace you?"
"Sure you can! Pull out your shoes, come and lay with me, my friend." he said making him a place.
They lay side by side and embraced, Manfred surrounded his body with arms and legs. They tenderly kissed. Manfred caressed the nape of his neck, his neck, his shoulders, his back.
"Why don't you undress me?" Simon, aroused, asked.
"I am too much moved, it is too wonderful having you here - let me get used to that." the soldier answered with sweet voice.
Simon felt Manfred's turgidity increase and press against him. He moved a little to make him feel his own erection through their clothes. He felt the soldier shudder while they kissed again.
"Simon?"
"Yes?"
"Are you glad to be here with me?"
"Happy! I like you so much!"
"Do you want to be my boyfriend?"
"I want to be yours." Simon said and lowered his hand to caress the soldier's erection through his fly.
"No... please..." the soldier moaned slightly moving away from that caress.
"Why?" the boy asked, amazed, "Don't you like it?"
"I like it too much - I am near coming and I would wet all my uniform, I am too excited. It is two years I don't touch a boy."
"Two years? Didn't you find anybody, before me?" Simon almost unbelieving asked.
"No. French boys don't like us Germans."
"But there are some who do it..." Simon said recalling the boys behind the cathedral of the town he was coming from.
"For money, yes, I know, but not for..." Manfred said, and became silent.
"And amongst your comrades?"
"Some do it, but to them it is just a way to give vent, to have a fuck. Nothing more. Just their bodies, not their hearts, do you see? But you seems different."
"And two years ago?"
"A comrade. But he died during an action, blown up with his jeep, on a mine."
"Why are we killing each other?" Simon whispered, then asked, "Was he young?"
"Seven years older than me. He was my Sergeant. And my lover. Another day I'll show you his portrait."
"You promised me you would show me your drawings copybook." Simon said to change subject.
"Yes, tomorrow. I promise you. You are really beautiful, Simon."
"You too. I would like to see you naked."
"Soon. I too would like to se you naked, you must have a fine body. But now, let's stay so. Are you sorry?"
"No... that is... a little. I can wait some more, but not too much. Anyway... it is good also staying so, just embraced." the boy admitted with a smile.
"Thank you. I didn't think I got so aroused just to embrace you. It is the first time that happens to me to feel... so strongly." he murmured caressing his cheek and kissing him.
A bell rang.
"In a while, the silence. I have to go, unhappily. I will think of you, while falling asleep."
"Me too. Kiss me again, before going. I will feel lonely, tonight, I too will think of you."
They kissed for a long while then Manfred had to leave him. Simon pulled out his sweater, the shirt and the trousers, switched off the light and, just his singlet and briefs on him, slipped under the sheets. The light of the searchlights sweeping the courtyard entered in the small room through the transom window, projecting on the wall white, moving lozenges.
The following morning Simon went to wash himself in the laundry, using the wide soaking basin as a tub - he felt the need to wash thoroughly. He wore clean clothes, took his mess-tin where he carved a C and a S, and went to eat breakfast. Manfred with his roommates were already at their table and, like on the evening before, Manfred had kept a seat for the boy near him.
"Have you sleep good?" Kurt, the thirty-six year old soldier sitting in front of him, asked Simon.
"Yes, thank you. And you?"
"Bah, I prefer of sleep in room of five women than of five ugly men like these." Kurt said laughing.
"But then, you would not have slept at all..." Manfred merrily countered, Kurt laughed again, assenting with strong nods.
Then Simon went to the wardrobe for his first service turn. And the first soldiers started to come.
CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 5
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