Gastien had no idea at this point in his life just how difficult it was to stretch money when you had eleven children, a wife to support, and workers to pay. Years later, he would realize that the tight fist that he had always mentally accused his father of was born of necessity. Jean was a cruel man to his family, but he also made sure that they did not wallow in poverty like the majority of peasant farmers. To always have decent enough food, some decent clothes, and a house that was not falling apart was a testimony to his business acumen. Add to that the fact that Jean was literate and made sure all his children were literate, and he was something of an anomaly. Gastien was about to learn just how hard life could be, but that night on the road he was still blessed with the naivety of thinking his father was just cheap.
Done singing, and not wanting to think about his father, Gastien’s mind turned to his favorite subject besides painting. Girls. Like any young boy entering manhood, his mind was on girls more often than not. He let his mind drift to images of girls. Yet again, he found himself wishing he could see a female naked. What he would give to touch her bosoms! He figured the nipple part would probably feel a lot like his. Sometimes he would touch his and fondle them to see what a woman would feel. It did not seem very impressive. Then again, he had none of that female fullness of the breast, that wonderful large mass of flesh that peaked out of the tops of dresses. It would be worth a beating just to touch and perhaps put his tongue on them, too. He wondered how they smelled.
Like any boy living on a farm, Gastien knew how babies were made. One cannot grow up in the country and not understand the sex act. He knew what his bite was for, and he ached to start actually using it. Not that he wanted babies! Non! However, he did want to be deep inside a woman and know that secret pleasure that must be most wonderful! He knew how good his bite felt when he used his hand in place of a woman, especially when he made his hand somewhat slippery.
He intuitively knew that sex was supposed to be a lot more than what his father made his mother submit to. Everyone in the house heard that clumsy, artless act! The sigh of the bedsprings told anyone awake that Jean was asserting his spousal rights by climbing on top of Marguerite. She usually said something like “Please, Jean, not again!” Gastien would hear the pleading in her voice and knew she hated his father inside her. Jean would simply slam into her, and she would cry out. The bedsprings would increase in volume at a steady pace for about two minutes, his father would grunt like a pig, and stop. A few seconds later, the creak as he got off of her to lie back down to sleep. He would be snoring within another two minutes. Many times after his father was asleep Gastien heard his mother quietly crying.
Once again, he swore he would never make a woman cry in remorse or beg him to stop. Gastien wanted to make women happy. He hoped to find a woman who was willing to teach him the art of lovemaking, once he got to Paris. For surely there must be an art to it!
He had been told many times by different males that women did not enjoy sex. They said that there was nothing one had to do except please themselves. Sex was a man’s right, something only a man enjoyed. Women only had sex because they wanted to have babies. That did not make sense to Gastien. He could not for the life of him understand why God (although he doubted he existed) or nature would create an act that only one of the two involved would enjoy! There was something just wrong about that. Wouldn’t it make more sense to have both people want it, so that sex could happen more? An act that felt so good even when just using his hand was something people should want to experience as often as possible!
VIII
He remembered back to when he was sixteen. It had been about six months since that awful beating, and he was really working hard to please his father. He and Paul had headed into town with his father to sell to the restaurants. To his surprise, after they were done, his father gave each of the boys a small amount of money, telling them that they had earned a chance to relax a little bit. They could buy something that they would enjoy. This was not a very frequent experience, and Gastien was excited!
He had been thinking about girls for the last couple of years. He had also been pleasuring himself more and more frequently. He wondered if something was wrong with him. He also worried that maybe this piece of equipment only worked so many times and then was done. What if he was using up his allotment before he even got to use it on a woman? It seemed reasonable that something that grew so hard and made the blood rush from his brain, driving him crazy with such strong need would not occur an unlimited number of times. Maybe after, say, five hundred times it simply stopped getting hard and became useless! Was he getting close to the halfway point or beyond? Regardless, he decided to head into a book shop to see if he could find a book that showed women in low cut dresses. He would perhaps buy that book to look at while he was taking care of his need.
He found a small book shop off of the main street and entered. The smell of print was wonderful! It made him smile to see all of those books. Just think of the journeys one could take when they escaped between two book covers! You could travel the world, be a pirate, anything! However, Gastien’s bite was not interested in pirates or a trip to Spain. It was interested in seeing girl flesh. He browsed, finding some magazines showing women’s fashion.
He looked around furtively to make sure no one was watching. It would not do to have someone see him looking at women’s fashion magazines! They would think he was a homosexual or something. He turned the pages and – oui! There were women in beautiful gowns cut so low that their nipples almost, but not quite, showed. Gastien stared, running a finger over one models breast. Oh, to actually touch such a beautiful woman! He was now rock hard. He did not dare move, because “little Gastien” was announcing to the whole world that he was indeed alive and well. What was he going to do? He could not stand there against the shelves all day, and he certainly could not take care of his “problem” in a public place.
All of a sudden, he heard a deep voice behind his shoulder asking “Do you need some help, Son?”
Gastien was mortified. There he was, holding a women’s magazine and sporting a huge erection! He wished he could just disappear into a cloud of smoke. His face crimson, he broke out in a sweat. “I – “
“Son, calm down. I am not going to cut your pecker off,” the man said kindly. He had seen Gastien enter and watched, smiling, as Gastien “casually” made his way over to the women’s magazines. He had been a bookstore owner for many years now. He had seen hundreds of boys that were anxious to be men come into his shop, hoping to peek at female bosoms unnoticed.
Even more importantly, he had once been a young man himself. He distinctly remembered the coming of age, when his mind was more often on his penis than on anything else. Fondly, he thought about the ache of that desire, that longing to know a woman, to know what it felt like to touch her female parts and enter her. Ah, yes. He remembered. “So, what are you, boy? Sixteen? Seventeen?”
Gastien kept his eyes to the floor. He thought his heart would burst through his chest before he got out of there. “I am sixteen and a half, Monsieur. I am no longer a boy. I am a man!” he whispered.
The shop owner guffawed. “A man you say? Well, of course you are! It must be my eyesight. No wonder you are hungry for a new woman! I think I can help you out, Son. There are pictures “men” of all ages can buy that help one along during those more desperate times, if you know what I mean. These pictures I speak of are much more satisfying than looking at women in gowns. Would you like to see a package?”
Gastien was filled with a little hope. His complexion went back to its normal color. How interesting! Pictures that were more appropriate, the man said? Dare he hope those pictures would show him a bare leg, perhaps a bare bosom? “Um, well, I mi-might be interested if the pictures are, um, of the quality I am looking for,” he stuttered.
“But, of course! Now that I get a good look at you I can see that you probably have sophisticated tastes. You are young, but probably a man of the world already.” Gastien s
tood straighter. He had lost his erection the moment he was caught. He turned around to look hopefully into the face of this man.
“Tell me, Son, are you looking for French postcards?” The man winked knowingly.
Gastien blinked in confusion. “French postcards, Monsieur?”
The man smiled patiently. “Postcards of women in various stages of undress. You most probably are from an area that has a different name for them,” he offered generously.
Gastien could not believe his ears! This man had postcards of undressed women, and he was willing to sell them? “Well, oui. Now that you have explained it, that is exactly what I am looking for. I have been traveling for awhile and have not been able to satisfy my needs. I am seeking some help until I get home to my wife,” Gastien lied boldly.
“Ah, just as I suspected,” the man said seriously, not letting on that he knew Gastien was lying. “Come this way and I will show you the deluxe collection. With that, he steered Gastien to the back of the store. “Here we go. I have two different packages that I think would be perfect for you. These are chosen by the more worldly men who enter my store. One packet has one dozen different photos. The other packet has two dozen.”
“Are they all different women?” Gastien questioned. “Are they beautiful?”
“Well, see for yourself. You can see one woman right on the cover!” He held out the packet.
Gastien drew his breath in sharply. He had never seen such a tempting sight in his life! The woman was beautiful! She had long, flowing blonde hair, bright red lips and long, long legs. Her bosom was large, waist small, and – Mon Dieu! Her skirt was pulled up to her upper thighs, as she lounged on a chaise, looking at him with a pout that begged, “Please don’t tease me any longer, Gastien. I want you so badly! Give it to me right now!”
“Ohhhhh!” Gastien sighed, forgetting that he was “sophisticated”. “I had no idea legs looked so shapely. How much for the two dozen?”
“One franc,” the man said.
“That is quite a bit for postcards!” Gastien said. “I only have one franc to spend. I wanted to get something to drink and several sweets.”
“Well, Son, those are the types of hard decisions we men have to make! Which is sweeter? Pastry or bare legs and bosoms? Which will last longer and bring more, shall we say, satisfaction?”
“The women!” Gastien stated strongly. His mind made up, he purchased the two dozen French postcards.
As the man ran him up, he looked at Gastien and smiled. He felt sorry for the young man who so desperately wanted to know about the female body. “You have impressed me. Because I find you very savvy in your business dealings, I will throw in an extra postcard as a surprise for you. Do you mind if I open your package and put a surprise in there?” The man smiled and winked again.
“Non, Monsieur, go right ahead. I appreciate it very much!”
The man opened the pack, got a card from under the shelf and placed it in the back. “No peeking at the surprise now until the very end, ok?”
“Right. I promise!”
“Perfect, Son. Merci. If ever your travels bring you this way again, I hope you stop and see me. I get new postcards in periodically.”
“Ok, Monsieur. Merci beaucoup!” gushed Gastien. He smiled at the shopkeeper, his heart once again pounding. He could not wait until he got somewhere to look at those postcards!
Leaving the store, he noticed that there was a bench in front of the shop. He looked up and down the street, saw that it was quite deserted, and decided to sit down to take a quick look at his purchase. He opened the package. The first was the same woman as on the cover, so he moved on. The second was another lovely female, with long black curls. Her bodice had somehow come down on one side, and a full breast was exposed! This was heaven! Gastien immediately felt his penis grow much larger in length and girth. He sat staring at the breast, spellbound. With shaking hands, he moved on to the next. Each picture had a beautiful girl, all different, all wanting him, with legs, breast or both exposed. His bite was pounding against his pants, begging to come out. I should have waited until I got home, he groaned to himself.
Then, he came to the surprise photo. His heart almost stopped when he saw her. There she was, sprawled back on a bed, completely naked! Her legs were bent with the knees in the air and her thighs were spread. In all of her wonderful glory, the woman exposed her most intimate parts to Gastien. The full view of her genitalia stunned him. So THAT is what it looks like, he remembered vaguely thinking, as he exploded in his pants.
“Ohhhhhh,” he sighed quietly. Merde! Foutre! His underwear was a wet, sticky mess! He looked around and was glad to see he was alone. His heart was still going a hundred miles an hour. The image burned in his brain. His hand shook as he continued to gaze at the spectacle. I will remember this moment forever, Gastien thought. I finally, FINALLY know what a woman looks like. I know where I fit in her. I can’t wait until I am looking at this part of a woman for real!
The shopkeeper watched from inside. He was not a pervert, but he remembered so well his own coming of age. The mystery of a female ate at him back then. It seemed like only a few days ago that he had those feelings. He watched with a gentle smile on his face as Gastien gazed at the cards. He saw the parting of Gastien’s lips, the intake of breath, the slight flaring of the nostrils, and the pupils dilating when the boy saw the “surprise” and exploded. That poor boy is going to have an uncomfortable ride back home in those drawers, he thought fondly. Ah! To be young again!
When it was time to go back to his father and the wagon, Gastien hid the postcards in his pocket. Jean asked Paul what he bought.
“Candy, marbles and a new pocketknife,” replied Paul contentedly.
“How about you, Gastien?” his father asked.
Getting into the wagon, Gastien tried to act casual. “I bought some sweets and something cool to drink,” he said offhandedly.
His father looked at him for a long moment, seeing the color rise from Gastien’s neck to his face. Then he clicked the reigns and started the horses. Something told him that Gastien was not telling the truth. He also remembered being a sixteen-year-old and wondered if Gastien…non he would not have enough money for a whore.
But he had purchased something. Whatever it was had to do with females. He could tell. Maybe he could smell the desire on him. He decided, for once in Gastien’s life, to just leave it be. Maybe there was hope for his eldest son after all! Maybe he would be a man in spite of himself and his stubborn desire to paint and draw.
“Well, I hope whatever you bought satisfied you, Gastien. Men can develop certain appetites around your age and satisfying them seems to become a number one priority.” He gave Gastien a rare, stiff smile and turned his face away. Was his son actually becoming a man? When did that happen? He suddenly felt very old.
They rode in silence for several minutes, the father thinking, Paul sleeping, and Gastien daydreaming about women with long, flowing hair, their clothes in disarray, and passion in their eyes. He could not wait until he could look at them again!
IX
Gastien returned his thoughts to the journey ahead. He had been thinking about women and that past memory for quite some time. My father knew! He knew, and he did not humiliate me. At least we had one thing in common that we shared, he thought sadly.
While Gastien was hurriedly packing, he had come upon the postcards. They were well worn now. He thought about taking them along, but decided he would have plenty of other things to worry about. Finding time to look at postcards of naked women was probably not going to be a priority for awhile.
Plus, he was going to be in Paris! Nowhere in the world would he find more beautiful women. He was sure it would not be long before he was sampling the real thing regularly. Again, the hope of someone young and naive. Gastien would find that living in the streets did not exactly bring the passion out in beautiful women. Having many women would not happen immediately like he thought, but once he got started he would more than make
up for it. For Gastien was cute already and destined to grow into a handsomeness that would be hard for women to resist.
He decided to leave the postcards for Paul. Paul had turned sixteen, and he knew that Paul was pleasuring himself now regularly, too. Although they certainly did not do this together, he sometimes could hear Paul next to him in bed as he relieved himself, thinking that he had waited until Gastien was asleep. Gastien never said anything. After all, perhaps Paul had at times heard him. Men need to think some things are secret! Putting the postcards under a pair of Paul’s underwear, he smiled as he thought of Paul’s surprise and pleasure when he discovered what his brother had left him. “Enjoy, little brother, enjoy. I know I sure did,” Gastien whispered.
Thinking about those postcards had affected Gastien as he walked. What was wrong with him? He had “little Gastien” fully awake and at attention, while walking down a country road in the middle of the night! Perhaps he should have kept singing instead! Well, he also had to piss anyway, so he started to look for somewhere to take care of things, and then perhaps sleep.
He had walked for quite some time, he could tell by the movement of the moon in the sky. He was tired, his back ached, and he had to find some relief. Ahead, and to the right, he saw an old building that looked as though it might be abandoned. He walked up to it and found that, although it was abandoned, the age was new enough that it had not really started to decay much. It was sound. Animals would not get in. This was a perfect place to sleep for awhile.
Gastien Pt 1 Page 4
