Date: Sun, 1 Nov 2015 00:05:34 +0000 (UTC)
From: Matteo Bee <undernetmatteo@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: I Miei Ragazzi (My Boys)

		 I MIEI REGAZZI: FIRST MEETING SUMMER 1976

The boys grin at the lens, there are four of them each captured in
different provocative poses and each wearing the tiniest of speedos worn
low on the hips emphasizing the "V" of their lower abdominals. Carlo is
posing with his thumbs in the front of his, showing a fuzz of pubic hair
over the waistband, Mattia is posing like a strong man his forearms at
right tangles and his fists clenched, Giacomo is half turned to the camera
sliding his hands down the back of his speedos revealing a view of the top
cleft of his buttocks while the last of them, young Luca, is massaging his
crotch.

I bring the photos of these boys out regularly to enjoy their beauty nearly
40 years down the line. I know them still but they are all men in their
early 50s now married with nearly 20 children between them. When we meet we
meet as friends nothing is said about the encounters that went on between
us in our younger days but they smile and wink when I mention how that year
of 1976 was the happiest of my life.

I had arrived in Taranto that summer to write and plan for a possible PhD
on the late 19th Century Italian short story. I had just come down from
Cambridge where I studied Modern Languages and was drawn to the area
through the writings of Norman Douglas and George Gissing. I had travelled
though most of Italy over the past few years during breaks from University
but had wanted to linger more in the South and had come into a small amount
of money that would let me spend at least a year in the area if I was
careful with my money. The people are passionate and fiery but the most
hospitable and loving people I have ever met. I also adored the coastline
and walked it for miles feeling the warm, white sand between my toes and
gazing out over a shimmering turquoise sea. It was on my very first week on
a visit to one of my favourite beaches that I first came across my boys.

It was a quiet beach and one that I thought I had to myself. I was walking
along at the water's edge, letting the bath warm water caress my feet and
ankles when I noticed a windbreak up ahead. It was a scorching hot day with
not even an angel's touch of a breeze in the air. I was curious. On
approaching I heard faint murmurs and giggles and the whispers of young
voices. Clearly whoever was behind the break had no idea of my approach. I
drew level with the break and could not help gazing in on the open area
facing the sea.  Inside were four boys all naked and about 13 years
old. Their bodies where a golden bronze, glimmering from the olive oil that
they had used on their skins to provide some protection from the sun. The
oil was proving its worth in other directions too. Each boy was sprawled on
towels on their backs, their legs spread and their feet planted on the
ground and each was lazily masturbating,the oil making squelching sounds as
they ground their hands up and down their shafts. One of the boys had
slipped his hand under his leg and he was thrusting two oiled fingers into
himself, he groaned, the pink anus gaping, a deep sucking sound coming as
his fingers slowly exited and then plunged back in again. I stood rooted to
the spot agog. Part of me wanted to move on, to spare these boys any
embarrassment but I could not move. My eyes took in the lithe glowing
bodies, their slim frames, the ribs showing under the armpit only, the firm
pecs, the pronounced abdominals and the long slim legs.  It was Carlo, the
boldest of them who looked up without any hint of embarrassment and told me
cheekily that I should pay them if I was enjoying the show. The others
giggled and looked at me quizzically. They had stopped their play but had
made no attempt to cover themselves up. I apologized for disturbing them
and made to move on when Carlo told me to stop.

"Hey you speak Italian but you accent if foreign. We thought this beach to
be free from the fucking tourists but if you going to disturb us come and
sit down and tell us about yourself."

They like most Italian boys of this time were totally at home with their
bodies and totally free in their burdening sexuality. They would probably
have beaten you half dead if you called them a queer but if you accepted
things on their terms they would love you and respect you and so it was to
prove with me. They were curious as most Italian kids are who do not have
much contact with foreigners and invited me to sit down with them. As I was
sitting down, Giacamo, a tall willowy boy with eyes like a fawn (but as I
was later to discover, the passion and heart of Pan), giggled and told me
that if I was to join their gang I should dress accordingly.

"He means take your clothes off" the imperious Carlo commanded. "After all
you have seen us in all our beauty so we want to see what you look like."

I needed no further encouragement. I was immune to English prudery, having
been at boarding school throughout all my schooldays. I had fucked all
though those days as well as through my days at Cambridge. The
lasciviousness in the boy's eyes was obvious as I took off my cotton shirt
and then my shorts and briefs. "Che Cazzo" murmured Luca his eyes fixed to
my groin as he took in my 8 inch shaft. The other boy's hands had started
back on their pricks and they ogled and gasped as they took in my body. I
was 21, I played Rugby I was fit and they wanted me.

"We can talk Later Bianco" Carlo said "Right now we are horny. So come and
lie down with us."

My mind can remember every detail of what happened then. They had me lie
down on my back. They were onto me in seconds, wild with an almost animal
lust. Carlo crouched over me with his face away from me and with his left
hand grabbed my dick. He guided it to the entrance to his hole and
gradually, intentionally slowly, he sank down onto it, throwing his head
back with a gasping cry. Such was the shock and the burning heat and fire
of his bowels that it was all I could do not to come immediately but I
managed to hold back. He moved up and down grinding his buttocks into my
groin his gasps turning into cries of transport. Then I felt Giacomo
straddle himself over my head and lower his cock into my mouth. It was the
colour of cafe au lait, glistening with oil and the pre-cum that covered
the bright red, blood engorged glans peeping from the foreskin. He timed
his movements to the rhythm set by Carlo thrusting in as Carlo descended on
my cock and thrusting out as Carlo ascended.  Mattia and Luca shouted that
I should not forget them and lying down beside us either side, their feet
aiming towards my head, they asked me to finger them. My two hands reached
out and they guided them to their hot, pink assholes. They took one finger
then two and three. I groaned and writhed with them, my body being totally
taken over and lust filling me as the ardent cries and passion filled
curses of the boys filled the air. I climaxed deeper than I have ever done
then or since shooting no less than 10 shots deep into Carlo's
bowels. Amazingly I could feel him spasm in orgasm at the same time, His
anus contracting and squeezing my cock on each spurt of his load while
seconds later Giacomo poured forth his thick, creamy, salty cum into my
mouth shuddering and weeping in ecstasy.

Even the wildest late night orgies at school had never come close to this,
scared as we were of making noise and waking up prefects of house
masters. It was these young boys, lithe, sexy and beautiful taking charge
of me, demanding sex and taking it that had proved the turn on of my
life. None of us were sated and each of the other two boys demanded their
turn to have me suck them and to have my cock inside them, each session
wilder than the last as the boys had more longevity after each orgasm. It
was getting on for dusk by the time that all of us sated settled down to
talk. They asked where I was from, complimented me on my Italian and my
prowess before asking where I was staying and for how long. They were
overjoyed to hear that I would be staying in the area for some considerable
time and that they all came from the same village only a few kilometres
from where I rented my small seafront house. In time I was taken to meet
each of their parents who were overjoyed that their sons had met such a
fine young English gentlemen who was prepared to keep them out of mischief
and perhaps teach them a bit of English. This I did and further adventures
followed which I could tell in due course. Looking again at the photo my
hands reach for my groin again, my eyes fill with tears of happiness. These
boys had given me the happiest days of my life. They were not ruined or
scared. They were merely experimenting with their sexuality in a free and
unquestioning environment.

"When are you going to find a wife and settle down Adriano? (I am Adrian
but he always used the Italian equivalent) Carlo asked me last time I
talked to him. He knows why but he always asked the question every time we
chat.





Dear readers this is my first story and I am prepared to tell others if
this small tale wins your approval. I write stand alone short stories but I
can continue the exploits of Adrian and his young Puglian friends if you
like them.

If you like the stories please contact me on undernetmatteo@yahoo.co.uk and
also consider a donation to keep this wonderful archive operating freely.

Thanks MatteoBee