Dimitri

By Novus Homo (Matt M., Steven Milhouse)

Published on Jun 9, 1997

Gay

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Warning: This is a gay love story. If this turns you off, there's a delete button on your keyboard. If you're under the age of majority where you live, or this stuff is illegal, don't read it, unless you really want to, in which case for heaven's sake don't tell anyone. Feedback to ganymede@hotmail.com. Comments will be cheerfully responded to; flames will be cheerfully ignored. (c) 1997 Novus Homo. All rights reserved worldwide and then some.

Auth. Note: This bears some resemblance to a short story I wrote for my grade 11 final English exam, obviously without the naughty bits. That work was entitled "The Love Which Dares Speak its Name". Part of the story is also a rewrite of another story I wrote called "After the AIDS Test". Sure it's lazy, but I think "AIDS Test" is one of the best stories I've written and it fit right in. Cegep (college d'enseignement general et professionel) is a sort of pre-university college in Quebec accounting for grades 12 and 13. McGill is a university in Montreal. The Plateau is Montreal's student ghetto.

Dimitri by Novus Homo

"And when two lovers woo, They still say, 'I love you,' On that you may rely, The fundamental things apply As time goes by..." - Sam, Casablanca

Who remembers when a close friendship begins? I first met Dimitri on my first day at cegep. He was in my Pascal class and we first got to know each other discussing a project we were both working on. Eventually we attained the status of "best friends" in the eyes of the pursuivants of the social hierarchy which naturally arises in the

presence of adolescents, gossip, and school.

Dimitri is tall, and has wavy dark hair and bewitching dark eyes, almost black. In contrast, his skin is light tan, like mine. He's mostly Russian, but part Italian as well. His frame is fairly muscular, more so than mine, but not ripped like some of the muscle studs you see on the newsgroups. All in all, he is extremely handsome. But I am getting ahead of myself.

I was extremely fortunate that Dimitri went on to McGill computer sciences, as I did. By this time I had moved away from home and was renting an apartment on the Plateau. Dimitri and I were still best friends. We told each other everything. He told me when he got a job; I told him when I got dumped; he called me when he got plastered at a party and needed a ride home.

One day we were bicycling on the mountain and I skidded and fell with a comical splash into a mud hole. I lifted myself up. We laughed briefly and made some meaningless comments about watching where I was going. He scraped some of the mud off my face, then grabbed me and kissed me. The universe exploded. Until this moment, I don't think either of us knew that we were both a) gay and b) in love with each other. It was something we never wanted and now couldn't do without.

We bicycled to my apartment, and I changed out of my clothes and showered. I came out of the bathroom wearing a towel and intending to change into some clean clothes. He read my intentions and shot me a look that said, don't bother. I shut the drapes and sat down on the sofa beside him. We embraced again and kissed, long and full on the lips. Our mouths opened and our tongues battled for supremacy.

I came up for air. "Let me get this off of you," I gasped. I shucked off his open shirt and peeled away his tee. Our skin was now touching. We kissed again, and I got up and led with my tongue into the bedroom. We collapsed on the bed and he took down his pants and shorts as I got rid of my towel. We were naked now, and in a magnificent embrace that lasted until the end of time. Our cocks rose towards each other, and I started to move down.

My tongue feathered down his face to his neck, down his chest, stopping to take each nipple in my mouth and swirl them until they became points. Dimitri was gasping and moaning, "Steve, Steve..." I worked my way down his muscular chest and down to his beautiful cut cock.

I won't lie to you. The average is six inches and he was probably six and a half, maybe seven, like me, but I'm no size queen. I went down on it like it was the last thing in the world. I slid my mouth and palate over it, nibbled a bit with my molars, adoring this cock, my love's cock. He caressed my head and shoulders with his hands as I finally brought him to completion. As he started to peak I got out of the way and finished him off with my hand. His come shot on my face and flowed like a sacred river over my wrist and arm.

He rolled back on the bed. "Steve..." he rasped, "I love you."

It's been said before, it will be said again. "I love you, too."

"I want you in me, Steve. Fuck me, please..."

Like I'd refuse.

I reached into my bedside table and pulled out a condom. I ripped open the package. Dimitri took it and rolled it down onto my erection, then rolled back over.

"Be gentle, okay?" said Dimitri. "This is my first time with a guy."

"Mine too, love," I admitted. "I'd never hurt you. Tell me if you want me to stop."

I rubbed some of Dimitri's load onto my fingers. I spread his beautiful ass apart and gently lubed him with his own come, then pressed one finger into his cowrie-shell hole. He gasped.

"You okay?"

"It's great," he moaned. "Don't stop."

I put in another finger, then when I was convinced he was ready, I slowly started to enter him. I pushed in, one inch, two... Gawd, it was an incredible sensation, the heat of his hole pressing against my shaft and molding around it. It was only a few minutes until I was all the way

inside him. He moaned and started to lift himself up off my cock, then brought himself back down. I got into his rhythm and started to fuck him slowly. Throughout this, he was moaning incoherently, curses, prayers, declarations of love, or just vocalizations. I was having a similar reaction. I reached around and took his cock in my hand and started to beat him off in time to my strokes, strong even thrusts. I was getting closer, closer, closer, closer, c l o s e r ...

*let there be light!

and there was light...*

When I awoke a second later, I was still inside him. I withdrew slowly, grasping the base of the condom in Dr. Ruth-approved fashion. I shucked it off, wrapped it in a kleenex, and tossed it in the trash. Dimitri and I lay there in the post-coital quiescence, as it is majestically known to sexologists, kissing and whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears. Eventually, even though it was the middle of the afternoon, we drifted off to sleep in each other's arms and didn't wake up until next morning.


Our relationship cemented itself until a month later, when Dimitri had an idea. He would introduce me to his dad. His parents were divorced and his mother was now living in British Columbia; Dimitri still lived with his father. He called home from my apartment.

"Dad? Hi. It's Dimitri. I was wondering, are you busy tonight? I want to introduce you to someone. Dinner? That's fine. See you at seven. ...No dad, that would spoil the surprise. Bye now."

We showed up at Dimitri's house at the appointed time, and Dimitri's father, a grizzled man of about 50, met us at the door. "Hello, Dimitri," he said. "Is this who you wanted me to meet?"

"Yes," Dimitri replied. "Steve, this is my father, Nikolai Illych Korolev. Dad, this is Steve Milhouse, my boyfriend."

The cup of coffee Mr. Korolev was holding crashed to the ground, shattering and spilling coffee on the hardwood floor.

"Your boyfriend? You're joking, right?"

"Joke? Why would I joke about it?"

"You mean you're queer?"

"So?"

"So? I won't have a fairy as my son!"

Mr. Korolev caught Dimitri a hard blow to the side of his head. "Get out of my house, you fucking pansy, and take your faggot-ass boyfriend with you! Come back tomorrow and get your shit out of your room, then I don't want to see you again!"

"Fuck you!" yelled Dimitri, and he and I retreated out the door, leaving the bigot to his rage.

We drove to my place in silence.

We arrived and sat down beside each other and stared at the tv (which was turned off). "I really fucked that up for you, didn't I?" I ventured after a while.

Dimitri turned on me with a fury I hadn't seen in him before. "Don't you say that! It's his fault! His! If he's gonna be a homophobic bigoted fuckhead, it's him, not you! He can go to hell! I love you!" He leapt at me and grabbed me around the shoulders in a powerful bear hug and kissed me roughly. The kiss went on and on until I thought I'd died of suffocation and gone straight to heaven. We collapsed onto the ground and continued to grind our bodies together in a desperate embrace. Despite the two layers of cloth separating them, our cocks started to rise to meet each other. We kept grinding until we shot in our pants, and then we lay there, still in our embrace.

"Dimitri?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I know."

"You can stay here if you want."

"Thanks."

"Will you marry me?"

"Yeah."

We kissed again. Exhausted from the day's travails, we shucked our clothes and lay in bed. Although we didn't make love again that night, we lay in each other's arms, and we both felt safe.


I determined to go about this the right way. We went in for blood tests. With AIDS, you can't be too careful.

We waited for the required period of time, then I went to pick up the results. We were both clean. We'd celebrate tonight.

I came home and told Dimitri the good news. We leapt into each other's arms. I walked with him into the bedroom.

I closed the drapes. Love may be blind, but the neighbours aren't.

We both fell on the bed. He put his hands into the buttons of my shirt and undid them. I did the same for him. The shirts fell away and we embraced. Melting together, I probed with my tongue into his mouth. Our kiss was more unifying than anything I'd ever felt before. Some African tribespeople, on seeing Europeans kissing for the first time, said, "Watch them, they share each other's saliva and dirt." Well, sure. Gladly.

I started moving down. I showered him with kisses, quick pecks as I moved down his jaw, down his neck. I tongue washed his Adam's apple. He moaned in delight. I kept moving down his sculpted torso. I found my way to his left nipple. I lashed the tempting strawberry with my tongue and he vibrated in ecstacy. Moving across the basal line of his pecs, I tantalized the other. I moved down his linea alba to his navel and washed it out. He giggled; it must have tickled. His cock by now was at full attention. I moved down and it brushed against my face. I took it in my mouth. First I used the tip of the tongue to tantalize the upper slope, then the sides where the foreskin meets the glans, then the frenulum, then the urinary opening. He spasmed; this was sheer joy. "Steve..." he says. "Move around. Let me do you."

"Not yet," I said. "Let me keep going."

I started to nibble. I gave a quick series of bites with my molars and incisors. Not enough to hurt by any means; just enough to be incredibly erotic. Finally, I filled my mouth with saliva and moved my head up and down his shaft. He got the idea and started fucking my face. While he rammed his cock into my throat, I had the presence of mind to twitch the muscles of my esophagus to stimulate his tool that much more. Finally, his cock exploded, filling my mouth with his seed. I tasted and swallowed. It was almost sweet, unlike my own musky-tasting come.

He was panting. He always pants when he jacks off. It's quite endearing.

I told him to roll over. He knew what came next. Grabbing a tube of KY, I rubbed it on my hardon and on his asshole. He shuddered in delight. I climbed on top of him. Before I entered him, I lay there, resting my head on his shoulder muscles. I hugged him tightly.

"Go slowly," he said. He needn't worry.

I pressed the tip of my shaft against his hole. Slowly I pushed in. The copious amounts of lube, not to mention the precum that was flowing freely over my cock, made the descent easy.

It was done. My cock was buried to the hilt. Dimitri was making tiny susurrations of ecstacy. I lay there for a moment, feeling my cock in between the layers of warm mucosal flesh. I started to pull out, then shoved back in. I paid close attention to Dimitri's reactions. Judging from the moaning, he was either in great pain or astonishing joy.

"How is it?" I grunted.

"Better than anything in the universe," he sighed.

I started to hump him with vigour. Each thrust provoked a gasp, each withdrawal a sigh. All my cock knew is that it liked this very, very much indeed. My balls slapped against his ass. I worried they might get sore. Finally, like a ship keeling over, I shuddered. My head swam. I saw stars. Finally, I came in glorious geysers which filled his ass. He moaned once, then he shot onto the bedclothes.

Damn. Now I have to explain this to the drycleaners, I thought.


We were married on April 30 the next year, in a ceremony in an NDG church which did gay marriages. It was a beautiful ceremony; Dimitri and I wore white tuxedos; my parents were there, as were Dimitri's mother and stepfather, who had flown in from BC. Dimitri's father was of course conspicuous by his absence.

I will never forget it.

"Do you, Dimitri Nicolajevic Korolev, take Steven to be your husband, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"Do you, Steven Matthew Milhouse, take Dimitri to be your husband, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." We looked at each other. His eyes still held the same mystery as when we had first met six years ago.

"Then by the power invested in me, I pronounce you married. You may kiss each other."

We did. Enthusiastically.

The late, unlamented Mr. Korolev moved to St. Petersburg, where he died about a year after we were married.

We've been together five years now. The fire has not yet dimmed.

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