50 m from my university, he stopped his Jaguar at the edge of the boulevard, leaning against the pedestrian crossing overloaded with students. He could not rest his hand on my thigh for fear of being seen in this rising and clear dawn, and arranged to meet me at the same place on my return for exactly 6 p.m., that is to say after my last class, with a manly, engaging smile that expressed everything about our emerging complicit understanding. The day passed, dreary, gray, needy. I remember nothing of those ten hours except the obligatory and exhilarating haunting at the same time of the new life which, obviously, awaited me and was going to begin with My Monsieur, a distinguished homosexual sixty-year-old decided, directive, fully good manners, which would take me away from my frustrated thoughts and lead me to his home and his bed. Of this I had no doubt. He would be My Man and I would be his. With all my being and my body. -------------------------------------------- iv At the end of the last class, paperwork obligations held me back beyond reason. I frantically check my watch. Finally I can leave the University, walking quickly to the meeting point but above all not ostentatiously, so as not to draw any attention to myself and therefore to my lover. I know I'm late and it's annoying: it's almost 6:10 p.m. Happy, relieved, I see the car and approach it. Leaning on the handle, My Monsieur, bareheaded, opens the door. I sit down, placing my schoolbag at my feet. Me “Excuse me, Sir, for being late and keeping you waiting.” Him “I knew you would come”. To my great satisfaction, placing his right hand on my caressed thigh, he added: “The important thing is that I found you, my little friend”. I savored “my little friend” and the direct informality with an unfeigned relish that he understood. He started his car and put both hands back on the wheel. The understanding was therefore obviously shared and complete between him and me. I was looking forward to his upcoming conversation where, I hoped, there would be everything and the rest that I had been waiting for in my wishes for so long. I didn't have to wait. He asked me to come to his house that evening, “to chat and get to know you better, my little one”. I was thrilled . His invitation was clear and elegantly announced. I had to answer him, to my great regret, that my evening being reserved for a planned activity, of a cultural type, I could not accompany him. Whereupon he proposed to me the idea of ​​another day which, eagerly, I I immediately accepted the principle to persuade him that I had glimpsed the outlined content of his proposal and fully accepted it in advance. Thus assured of our mutual understanding, which inevitably had to lead, and on the best of delights, I dared to ask him where he lived and if he would like to drive me back. He responded by describing most of his home, obviously opulent, with a beautiful library, his fenced private land, away from the village, which ensured all the discreet tranquility required to take me there and back. These last words of discreet tranquility were carefully articulated to encourage me to fully understand what had not yet been expressly formulated. By his hand on my thigh, which he understood that I accepted as a sign for him of appropriation of me and for me as subjection consented to him,I was hard again like in the morning. Did he notice it? The journey was quick and he had to regain the use of both hands behind the wheel. We agreed to meet the next morning at 7:30 a.m., at the same place as in the morning. I told him that my lessons ended at noon; he exulted, telling me that his work allowed him to meet us at 12:15 p.m. so he could go to his residence for the rest of the day. Having asked me my first and last name, he presented his own. Fire followed ice. Everything was said and nothing was spoken. Only the field of possibilities unfolded his future. -------------------------------------- V My night was made of dreams. I was no longer alone: ​​I had a Man, My Man, to whom I was going to give myself and abandon myself. A mature gentleman whose homosexual tastes I imagined refined and strong in submission for me to his domination for him. The next day, at the appointed time, at the appointed place, the door of the Jaguar opened for me and my fiery destiny. E., for that was his first name, suggested that we kiss each other, which I immediately realized was on his shaved cheeks; he asked again: “Four, my little one.” It was four kisses. Strangely, the journey was banal, apart from his manifestation of ownership over my person and henceforth my life which belonged to him without any words having ever expressed it. I retained my restraint and knew how to tell him everything without expressing anything, once again accepting and keeping it as a precious possession, his right hand on, this time, my two knees together. At the stop, without arguing, I offered him my four kisses, one of which, voluntarily, touched his lips; I believe he understood my desire and my consent to everything about him. No one had seen these hugs either at the start or at the finish. ------------------------------------------- VI Morning from 8 a.m. to 12 p.m. was a horror. Only the 12:15 p.m. meeting mattered to me. With a confident, determined, confident and happy step, I went to my appointment to find the one who for me already owned me and my emotional, physical and obviously homosexual life. The car stopped, the door opened, I got in like a female gets in alongside her husband. Spontaneously, I gave him four kisses, two of which were firmly placed on his lips. He appreciated it, I think, having understood that I was his. Being in public, I could not do more on his lips to prove to him my docility and my desired abandonment. I chose him, he was 61 and I was 19. He had to be able to understand it and understand that I no longer existed without him, him whom I considered deep down as My Husband: I still had to be able to tell him that. I lived the moment like a marvel, installed in his car like on a star. His right hand placed on my thighs, one after the other caressed, and which I brought as close as possible to him to signify my total agreement of giton abandoned to his will, he asked me if I had ever had "a friend ". Having heard my negative response, he asked me if I was inclined to dispose of it and with this in mind how I saw it. There was nothing left between us now than the simple truth to be told. I sensed the right moment. I admitted to him that I was obsessed with the idea of ​​a Mature Man, of his age, to whom I would belong because I wanted it and because I needed it. As he wanted me to refine the details of my tastes without embarrassment or restraint, I confessed to him that I wanted to give myself to a manly and discreetly homosexual gentleman who would dominate me and guide me according to his inclinations. I described my dream Man as a very sexually active, virile, sexual Husband, who would make me the passive subject, living naked, of our couple, in privacy and in bed and making me a faggot-whore at his service, a submissive giton, a docile cutie, an obedient sissy and a female whore, dressed by him as such in an openwork bra to show off my nipples, wrapped in a nightie, adorned with PJs, Without giving him time to speak, I assured him that I had told him everything but fearing the consequences of my effrontery. He replied to me that he was satisfied with my answer: he will do with me what he wants and will teach me to be the sexual object he wants. I could continue talking without embarrassment, he said, since he and I were the only ones in his car. Whereupon, I told him about the episode in which, a year before, almost to the day, I had decided to be and become a faggot given to a middle-aged gentleman by show ...

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