Date: Fri, 14 Dec 2001 07:35:58 -0800 (PST)
From: Balthazaro <balthazaro@yahoo.com>
Subject: Italian Family, Part II

This work is copyrighted by its author.  It may not be
used without his express permission.  Private
individuals are given permission to have one (1)
electronic and/or one (1) printed copy of this story.
Nifty is given permission to archive this work.

If stories about homosexual acts offend you, please
don't read it... I hate to cause conniptions.  *grin*
If you like it (or don't like it) please let me know
at balthazaro@yahoo.com.

------------

I woke up in my room and stretched luxuriously.  The
sun pouring through my bedroom windows combined with
the sounds of my Dad making his way down the hall from
his morning run to bring me out of the dream I had
been having.    I threw back the covers and looked at
my naked body.

I guess I must be OK-looking, based on the way the
girls at school looked at me, but I just didn't see
it.  I was only five foot seven and had olive skin
from my parents (they're both Italian, and Ma's
parents are right off the boat).  Like my Dad, the
only hair on my body was right around my dick and
under my arms.  Even at sixteen, I knew that my best
asset was my cock; I was constantly getting teased
about it in gym class.  All the other guys were
shocked when I pulled down my pants.  Since I was kind
of skinny and always wore baggy clothes, my six inches
of soft prickmeat always amazed the new kids in my gym
classes.  When it got hard (as it was quickly doing
now) it was a little over ten inches and as big around
as my wrist.  My balls were sized to match,
low-hanging and about the size of small eggs.  I knew
the other guys all envied me my big dick, but it
definitely had its drawbacks.  I was kind of
embarrassed by all of the attention it got, for one
thing.  For another, I had to wear really baggy pants
and boxers; I had never been able to find a pair of
briefs that could hold my dick and balls without being
damned uncomfortable, even when I was soft.

I reached down and stroked my cock, feeling the rush
of sensation as the foreskin slipped over the ridge of
my cockhead.   I was starting to seep a steady flow of
cockjuice, because it had been a few days since I had
gotten off.  I had to be careful where and when I beat
off - Ma was really religious and I knew she would
lose her mind if she caught me at it.  My Dad had
caught me two months ago and really scared the shit
out of me; I thought he was gonna beat the hell out of
me.  He told me he didn't care, but I could tell it
really shook him up.  Thinking about this did nothing
to improve my dick's mood; it started to go soft
thinking about how embarrassed I had been when my Dad
stuck his head in while I was shooting off.   He had
acted strange ever since then.

Dad would act even stranger if he ever found out how
much I fantasized about him.  When I was fourteen, I
found out about jacking off from him (not that he knew
it).  I snuck into the bathroom that morning while he
was going at it.  I wasn't thinking clearly about what
I was doing; I just wanted to see him naked because my
body was starting to change.  I guess I wanted to see
what I was going to look like when it was done; I
don't know.  He was so caught up in stroking himself,
he didn't hear the door open; I could see him through
the clear curtain running his hand over his huge log
of a cock with his eyes closed.  I had never seen him
hard before and had no idea what he was doing, but a
rush went through me like heatstroke.  It made me feel
so light-headed I thought I was going to pass out.
Dad was leaning back against the rear wall of the
shower, and I could hear him panting for breath as his
hand went faster and faster along the soapy shaft of
his massive manmeat.  At the time, mine was only about
seven inches long, and I thought my father's cock
looked huge.  Our dicks were shaped differently - the
shaft of his cock curved upwards so that his pisshole
was pointed towards the ceiling, while mine points
straight out from my body.  I only got to see about
thirty seconds of this; I was terrified he would open
his eyes and see me standing there.  As I was backing
towards the door, I heard him gasp and saw a huge load
of something white paint the shower curtain, followed
quickly by another and then another.  I closed the
door to the bathroom as quietly as I could and ran
back to my room.

As soon as I got into my room and got the door closed,
I ripped down my shorts and grabbed my cock like I had
seen my Dad doing seconds earlier.  I almost fell out
with the first stroke of my hand down my prick,
because it felt so amazing.  I felt like I had ants
crawling on my nerves, like my dick was on fire.  Some
sort of clear fluid was seeping out of the end, almost
like I was pissing.  I got some of the fluid on my
hand with my upstroke, and when I next slid my fingers
over my inflamed boydick it was all over.  I felt like
my head was exploding; I couldn't breathe the
sensations were so intense.  I probably made some
noise like "NNnghh!" as some sort of milky white stuff
came rocketing out of the end of my dick and laid a
trail across the floor of my room.  Each time I felt
my guts tense up and then release, more of this stuff
came flooding out of me.  I thought I was going to
die.  Spots were swimming in front of my eyes, and yet
I couldn't stop my hand from rubbing the thick cream
into my cock.  Finally, I caught my breath and stopped
stroking because the head of my cock had gotten so
sensitive it felt too painful to touch.  It looked
like I had dropped a pint of milk in the floor; I
would have made less of a mess if I had pissed myself.
 The feelings from it had been so amazing I just stood
there, kind of stunned.

I picked up a filthy t-shirt that I had played soccer
in the day before and wiped up the mess.  I wondered
what the hell all this stuff was; I knew it must be
normal because my dad had definitely been painting the
walls with it when he had been doing whatever-it-was
in the shower.  After some subtle hinting around at
school over the next few days, I found out from a
friend that what I had been doing was called "jacking
off", and that the stuff that had come out of my dick
was "jizz" or "jit" or "cum" or any of about a billion
other names.  The same friend who told me what I had
been doing also told me what happened when his Mom
(who went to church with my Ma) found him doing it.
Based on the fit she threw, it must have been highly
disapproved of by the Catholic church.

The image of my Dad beating his massive meat has
stayed with me ever since. I never did figure out how
to get to see it again, but just thinking about it
would get me all boned up.  Privacy was non-existent
in our house; even though I had my own room, there was
no lock on the door or anything and my parents came in
and out as they felt like it.  I knew my Ma was in my
room almost daily, cleaning and snooping.  Even worse,
my sister Maddalena (Maddy for short) worshipped the
ground I walked on and loved to sneak in my room and
spy on me.  A few early experiments taught me that I
didn't enjoy beating off in the shower; it was sexy
knowing that my Dad had been there before me, but the
little starchy shit in my jizz stuck to my hands and
the towel too bad.  I finally got to where I would try
to wake up early every third or fourth morning so I
could beat off while my Dad was in the shower.  I knew
Ma would be cooking breakfast, and Maddy was always
down with her trying to learn how to cook.  Besides,
it really made me hot to think I was jacking off at
the same time my Dad might be shooting his load on the
other side of the wall.

As I reached down and gripped my cock, aroused again
by my memories of seeing Dad pumping out his load, I
heard the shower turn off in the bathroom.  Dammit!  I
didn't want to get caught again.  I got up and tried
to stuff my enormous horsemeat into a pair of pants.
I heard my Dad leave the bathroom and walk down the
hall.  It sounded to my hyper-alert hearing like he
stopped outside my room, but he went on down the hall
after a second and I heard the door to my parents'
room close.  He hadn't been acting the same since the
day he caught me beating off; he seemed more distant,
and sometimes I caught him staring at me oddly.  I
hoped it hadn't grossed him out or something.  I mean,
I knew HE did it, so it would be kind of weird for him
to object to it; besides, he told me that day in the
car that he did it and that it was normal.  I wished I
knew what was bugging him.

Wait a minute... today was June 15!  I was supposed to
go visit my uncle Tony this week!  I almost broke my
neck getting downstairs.  Mom had fixed another one of
her Italian Mamma Specials, as I thought of them... eggs
scrambled with prosciutto and buttered polenta.  I
scarfed down my food and chugged my OJ, and then asked
"Has uncle Tony called?"

My Dad grinned and said "Ah, I was wondering when
you'd get around to remembering that that was this
coming week!  Yeah, Tony called last night when you
were out, said he'd be here around ten to pick you up.
 You all packed?"

I looked at the clock and it was quarter after nine...
shit!  I hadn't even BEGUN to get ready.  "Yeah, got a
few more things to get together" I lied shamelessly,
and then raced back upstairs, pausing only to kiss my
mother on the cheek and say "Thanks, Ma."

I heard her start up about something as I was headed
back upstairs.  I love her, but she seems to be in a
perpetual bad mood these days.  I worry sometimes
about my parents breaking up; I know that Ma would
never leave, since Catholics don't believe in divorce,
but my Dad isn't but so religious and I can tell he's
not happy at home.  I ran through my room like a
demon, packing clothes furiously.  As I bolted to the
bathroom to gather up all my personal shit and brush
my teeth, I heard uncle Tony come in downstairs.  He
and my Dad always yell at each other in their
bastardized Italian, which pisses my mom off.  God, I
have a fucked up family.

As I got my shit together and ran down the stairs,
Tony was telling my parents about my cousin's latest
escapade.  He only has one son, also named Antonio,
and three daughters.  It always amazed me to see my
Dad and uncle Tony together; they had the same olive
skin tone and the same Italian features, but where my
Dad is built lean like me, my uncle Tony is HUGE.
He's about six foot four or five, and has massively
broad shoulders and a bit of a gut.  He also has a
hairy chest, something neither my Dad nor I have.  As
I came down the last few steps he was kissing my
mother's hand and making over her like always; I think
he does it to make my Dad jealous.  Ma was all
flustered (which always happens - one of the reasons
she doesn't like uncle Tony), and was trying to get
away into the kitchen.

"Hey, Stefano, wha's happenin', eh?  You ready to go
an' spen' a week wit' ya Uncle Tony in da real city?"
Tony and Dad's other brother, Vinnie, never let up on
my Dad for moving away from Queens; as far as they
were concerned, he was running away from the family.
The rest of the Giani clan all still lived in the
neighborhood where my Dad grew up, along with my
grandparents, their surviving brothers and sisters,
their kids, and a whole flock of cousins and assorted
other people that had known my family since the
beginning of time.  Listening to my father's stories
of when he grew up, I often wondered if my extended
family were mafiosi; it sounded like something out of
the Godfather.  "Get ya stuff in da car, we gotta get
on da road heeh... Maria's gonna fix canneloni tonight
and have da family over to see da long lost nephew."

My father was watching this whole scene with a
tight-lipped expression, but he finally gave Tony a
tight little grin and hugged him.  Pecking him on each
cheek, he said "You take care of my kid, eh, Ton'?
Don't let him get up to no trouble."  He came over and
hugged me and said "You behave yourself, now... don't
give your uncle no problems."  My mother hugged me and
was crying; Jesus, you'd think I was leaving forever.
We went out, threw all my shit in my uncle's Lincoln,
and off we went towards New York.

My grandfather, Antonino Vincenzo Giani, padrone of
the whole clan, was sitting at the head of the table
when we got in.  When he saw me, he looked at me very
closely without twitching a muscle.  He always
frightened me as a kid; he was a stern old man with a
drooping white mustache, and all of his kids (and even
his brothers and sisters) valued his good opinion of
them too much to offend him.  He was from the old
school too, and would cheerfully smack the shit out of
you if he thought you were being stupid or talking
back.  I walked over to him and smiled, but I knew I
wasn't supposed to say anything until he spoke.  He
stood up, looked at me from the left and the right
(making a big production of it for the maximum
embarrassment I guess) and scowled fiercely.  The rest
of the family was waiting with bated breath to see
what was going to happen; I knew my grampa was still
pissed off that my father had moved to Albany.  Was he
going to take it out on me?

My grandfather reached out, grasped my shoulder with
his left hand, and turned and looked at everyone else,
still scowling.  "This," he shouted "this is a
Giani!!!" With this pronouncement he grabbed me by the
other shoulder, swung me around, and kissed me on both
cheeks.  He burst into laughter, and everyone else
laughed along with him as I was passed along an
endless line of relatives and hugged and kissed almost
to death.  I finally made my way through the night,
being talked to by a hundred people (usually over top
of each other) and stuffed with every kind of food
imaginable.  Towards the end I could hardly keep my
eyes open.

My cousin Antonio (Tony's son) took me up to his room
where I would be sleeping.  I was a little surprised
to see that there was only one double bed there, but I
remembered that he normally slept alone since uncle
Tony didn't have any other male children.  He and I
started undressing and getting ready for bed.  I felt
a little shy since I had only seen him a couple of
times in the past few years - even though we were the
same age we were never really close, since my father
only came back home once a year or so.  I made my
bathroom run for the evening and brushed my teeth, and
got back to the room in time to see Antonio pulling
off his briefs.  Like his father, he was broad across
the shoulders and had hair coming out on his chest.
His dick was smaller than mine, but still a good size;
like me (and unlike a lot of the people in my school)
he was also uncut.  Naked as the day he was born, he
crawled into the bed and looked at me as if to say
"well?"

Bracing myself, I pulled off my boxers and turned
towards the bed.  Antonio said "Madonna!  I guess you
are a Giani after all!" and laughed out loud.  I
giggled a little, realizing that my whole family must
be renowned for the size of their cocks.  Antonio
reached out and slapped my soft prick where it swung
in front of me and said "Boy, I bet you got the girls
lined up to hop on that, don'cha?"  I laughed again
and agreed, even though I had my doubts that girls
were going to play too much of a role in my life.  I
had been getting blow jobs in the local mall from
guys, and fantasizing about my own dad... not too good a
testament for a straight guy.  I never really thought
about it much, because it bugged me.  I wanted to grow
up and have a wife and kids... it was what you were
supposed to do, right?  Still, I was worried that the
sight of the other guys in the locker room moved me
more than the girls I had fooled around with.  I had
screwed more than a few girls, but sex with them
didn't make me want pussy any more than I had before.
Some of the guys that had blown me in the mall, now...
hoo boy!  There was one guy that had sucked my dick
about a month ago that was hung almost as big as I
was.  I had ended up sucking him off too, even though
I don't usually do that, because he got me so worked
up.  I had no idea what he looked like since I only
saw his crotch, but I hoped I could run into him
again.

Antonio turned off the light, and the room was plunged
into darkness.  The lights from the signs outside the
window were bright enough to let you see, but it was
far from bright in there.  I lay there on my back,
worn out from the massive homecoming that my relatives
had thrown for me.  I was almost asleep when I felt my
cousin shifting around.  I heard him whisper something
I couldn't make out, and then I was amazed to feel his
hand snaking across my thigh.  His fingers slid
through my pubic hair and fastened around my limp
dick, lying draped across my leg.  I quickly started
to get stiffer, and Antonio rolled his fingers down
the length of my cock.  I slid my hand over and felt
his amazingly hard boyprick; it was like a piece of
wood in my hand.  I slipped the foreskin back over the
edge of his cockhead and snapped it forward again, and
he whistled through his teeth.  "You keep that up, I'm
gonna make a mess on you." he whispered softly.  I
knew instinctively that this whole episode was not
going to exist tomorrow morning, so I had better make
the best of it now.  "Ay, Jesus, how big does this
fuckin' shank of yours get?" he said, as my cock
continued to lengthen and expand.

I pushed the covers off of us so I could see him in
the light from the window.  He was staring in
goggle-eyed amazement at my ten and a half inches of
horsemeat, sticking straight up with his hand wrapped
around the shaft.  I looked at him, and admired the
big muscles in his chest and arms, covered in soft
black hair.  I reached out and ran my fingers through
the hair on his chest and pinched his left nipple.
His eyes closed and he moaned quietly.  "Bite it." he
told me.  I looked over at him questioningly, not sure
I understood what he meant.  He grabbed my head and
put it over on his chest, aiming his tit at my lips.
"Bite it!"  he said more forcefully, jamming my face
into the downy fur on his pecs.  I stuck out my tongue
and ran it across his nipple as he jerked and almost
yelled out, then put my lips and teeth on it and bit
down softly.

Antonio's reaction was so violent I thought I had hurt
him.  He bucked up against my lips, and I felt a
string of cock-drool fly up and coat the side of my
face.  He leaked precum just like I did, and
glistening spiderwebs of it connected the head of his
eight inch long cock with his navel and belly.  I bit
him again and he started groaning and tossing around,
keeping his hands on my head.  I could smell the musky
scent of his body.  He didn't smell like a sixteen
year old; he smelled like a man, like the guy I blew
in the mall, like I imagined my Dad would smell if I
was wrapped around him with his cock in my mouth.  I
rolled over to the other side of Antonio's chest and
licked and bit the other nipple causing even greater
convulsions.  His arms pinned me down to him, but I
was frantic to get some attention to my cock.  Turning
around, I started nudging his leg with my dick; as
soon as he saw it, he remembered how fascinated with
it he was and started rubbing it again.

I decided that the tables were turned, and I said
"suck it".  He looked at me like I was crazy.

"I ain't no cocksucker!" he said roughly, and tried to
force my head back down to his crotch instead.

"You want it, boy... you know you want this big cock in
your mouth."  I had no idea where that had came from;
Antonio was looking at me like he'd just seen a ghost.
 "You've wanted to suck my cock since you first saw
it.  You know you'll never see another one this big.
C'mon, wrap those lips around my big old meat... you'll
love it.  It'll be sweet, just like honey..."  I'm
amazed that he didn't try to beat the shit out of me,
but he was looking at my huge cock like he was
hypnotized.  A bead of crystal lovejuice formed at the
tip and slowly trickled down to where his fist was
wrapped around my meat, pooling in the hollow of his
thumb.  I dipped my finger in the precum running down
the sides of my shaft and brought it to his mouth.
"Just a taste... just taste it and see how good it can
be.  See how much you want it."

Like a man unable to control himself, my cousin opened
his mouth just enough to let my finger in.  I stuck my
finger in and wiped it on his wet tongue.  He
tightened his lips around my finger but wouldn't look
at me; I knew he wanted it worse that I had even
imagined.  He wouldn't look me in the eyes; he was
just staring at my cock.  I flexed it for him, let him
feel the veins pulse and throb and another trickle of
precum snaked down the side of it.  His tongue went
back and forth around my finger in his mouth, making
sure he got all that was there.  I put my hand in the
thick curly hair on the back of his head and pushed.
He whimpered like a puppy, but his head slowly sank
down level with my navel.  I heard him say "I don't... I
don't wanna do this..." but his mouth gave the lie to
that.  No sooner had he finished saying that than his
lips slipped over the head of my huge shaft.

I had known I wanted him to suck me, but I almost
didn't get the chance.  The feeling of his lips
sliding over my cock and his rough, wet tongue
gathering up all the slick cockdrool from the head and
sides came within a split second of having me blow my
load right then.  As soon as he was sure he had gotten
all the precum off me, he started sucking me like a
vacuum cleaner.  He wasn't as good as the guys in the
mall, but this was more real; this was my cousin, a
guy I had known all my life, swinging on my cock like
he was in love with it.  I looked down at his curly
haired head bobbing on my fat dick, watching his lips
sliding back and forth over my long, thick shaft, and
I started encouraging him.

"Yeah, baby... suck that dick.  Come on, oh Antonio,
that feels so good, oh baby... Don't you like that?
Isn't it as good as you thought it would be?"  He
looked up at me and whimpered "mmhmm" with his slick
lips still locked around my prickhead, and the look on
his face was that of a man in terror of his life.  I
stroked his hair to comfort him and whispered little
comforting sounds to him like he was a baby.  I didn't
know how much longer I was going to be able to endure
his all-out assault on my huge prong, and I knew I
didn't want him to feel like he had to beat on me to
prove his masculinity afterwards.  He responded by
closing his eyes and sucking harder, running his hands
along my legs.

"Oh GOD, 'Tonio, that's amazing... just like that, baby...
just like that.  Yeah, suck that big juicy cock and
I'm gonna give you a load to remember.  Do you want my
hot cum to fill you up?"  He groaned and sucked harder
like he was in some sort of fever, and his left hand
started stroking my shaft while his right hand cupped
my balls.  I could feel my balls sliding up to lock
against the base of my shaft, and I knew I wasn't
going to last much more than another thirty seconds.

"T-Tony... oh man, I'm serious, this is it... if you don't
want my load you better... unh... better stop... ahhh!  Oh
Jesus, Mary and Joseph..."  I was lost in my own world,
and my attention was focused completely on Antonio's
mouth and where it met my cock.  I could feel the cum
start to move in me and start it's journey out through
the long tube that swelled the underside of my
boyprick, out into Antonio's mouth.  "You're so good,
baby... gonna give you a mouthful and then some.  Here,
take it, oh god, godgodgod... unh! NNNGgghhh... ahhhh...
ah..."  My whole being was focused on the end of my
cock, the explosion that was pushing my jizz like lava
between my cousin's sucking lips.  I knew I came a
lot, and with a lot of force, and Antonio was gagging
but he kept it in his mouth and didn't waste a drop.
Tears were running down his face as he kept his lips
locked around my bloated cock helmet, tongue swabbing
my pisshole of the last traces of my creamy cum.  I
stroked his sweaty hair tenderly, and as he looked up
at me with his mouth full of my seed I slid my hand
down the side of his face.  Pulling him up next to me,
I massaged his jaw until he finally gave up and
swallowed my spermload.  He lay beside me and cried
like a beaten child while I stroked his back and hair
and murmured soothing sounds in his ear.  I knew that
the morning would no doubt bring problems out of this,
but it would be worth it.