Date: Sun, 05 Dec 2004 21:29:24 +0000
From: jason argo <jacklloyd22@hotmail.com>
Subject: Italian Beauty

Jim Beeney was feeling pretty much cock-a-hoop as he made his way back to
his hotel. He'd come to Italy to conclude a business deal, and having just
done that, and done it a little bit to his own advantage, he was rightly
feeling pleased with himself.

His hotel in Florence was a faded pink stucco building facing onto a cobble
stoned piazza where a fountain sprayed over a cherub riding on a dolphin. It
was pretty, but he'd found the food to be more of his liking at the big
bustling trattoria next door to the hotel.

Il Limonaia was a restaurant that took its name from the places Italians
traditionally stored delicate lemon tree to protect them from winter frost,
and a double flight of stone steps led to enormous doors made of weathered
wood, flanked by twin lemon trees in great terracotta urns.

Inside it was jammed. Customers crowded the entrance and stood three deep at
the bar. Cigarette smoke hug in blue curls under the low beamed yellow
ceiling, the scent of wine hung heavy, and the noise was a blast. A
wriggling mass of bodies were gyrating in the middle of the floor, dancing
to piped music that seemed to alternate between salsa and R&B.
He didn't mind any of that. He was in a mood to party.

Most locals in that part of Florence dealt with multitudes of British and
American tourists during the summer months and knew how to say more than
just 'hello'. Giuseppe, the owner of this particular eatery was a broad
bodied, pink-faced man with a small moustache, a gregarious man he'd met the
previous evening who'd lived some time in New York.

He greeted him with typical Latin gusto.
"Hi, Yank. How's Manhattan?"

Jim Beeney's eyes twinkled merrily. "Sittin' up and taking food when I last
saw him, so he's better off than I am right now."

The cafe owner barked a laugh. "Come in an' I'll find you a seat. There's a
birthday party here tonight so the place is mobbed, but I'll fit you in
somewhere."

There was an aroma of bean soup and the crackle of rosemary-roasted pork as
he entered, and he soon had a feast of it together with some decent Chianti,
finishing off with a couple of shots of grappa, that Italian liquor that
hits the throat like a fireball and is reckoned good for curing colds.

About thirty people were dancing at the back of the room, beautiful women
wearing stunning dresses, with an assortment of men, both young and old.
They were all gyrating with enthusiasm, smiling, laughing, and giving out
the kind of heated messages to each other that comes after knocking back
plenty of vino.

There had been nothing unusual about the evening that far, but it all
changed when a boy appeared out of a side entrance to clear dumped glasses
and used crockery from the tables.
No more than thirteen years old, he was immaculate in a white linen shirt
with the sleeves rolled up to show slender tanned arms. He wore
stoned-scrubbed Levis that fitted as though they had been tailored to fit
his little backside and brown leather sandals without socks.
Very proper. No lazy hip rolling or swinging of arms, in fact he seemed to
take up as little space as possible, edging his way through the crowd,
shoulders delicately drawn in, his big brown eyes ever watchful amid the
sex-drenched atmosphere.

He stood out to Jim Beeney. A youthful abnormality in a roomful of
skin-tight clothes and do-me high heels. There was something special about
him that at once excited his interest.
He was beautiful. He was exotic, and somehow incredibly sensuous.

Jim watched him surreptitiously for a while.
Maybe it was the booze that made him stare so long, or maybe he was just
plain enchanted by the kids looks, but he was caught out as the boy swung an
unexpected upward glance at him from under long, sweeping lashes.
A thrill of apprehension trickled up the man's spine as he suddenly
realised, shocked but as pleased as Punch, that the kid had actually noticed
him looking and wasn't giving him the brush-off.

When the kid turned away and made off back towards the crowd Jim rose up and
followed, ostensibly to seek out some woman and join in the dancing, but
with his thoughts immovably focused on the youngster. His heart clenched and
skipped a beat when he realised he'd actually followed the kid.
The magnetic pull of the boy was drawing him in before he could even
calculate the proper boundaries.

"Hi." he suddenly said above the music, and the boy turned, saw him looking
and stared back with a smile.
"Hi." he answered, and Jim Beeney believed he'd spoken the most gorgeous
word in all the world.

Jim was quite used to beautiful women. In his youth they'd chased after him
all the time. His wife was a beauty and his two daughters were stunners, yet
left to himself he had to admit he'd always nursed a rather unsavoury
affection for young boys. He'd even used them a few times on occasions.
This one was real class he thought, slender, sleek, lithe and beautiful. A
lethal combination. He seemed to make all the others he'd known before look
a little geeky.
He could have stood still and gazed into those dark brown eyes of his
forever, but the subtle sway of people around him jolted him back to
awareness.

Then suddenly they were dancing. He and the kid were dancing with the crowd.
Not an awkward one-two-three and stepping on toes. He wasn't sure how they
were dancing, or why, but they were gyrating to the beat of salsa music and
moving together in rhythmic agreement.

It was like a dream, even the room had a surreal quality at that moment,
heightened by several ornate gilt-framed mirrors on the walls. They
reflected the people there back and forth, increasing their numbers into
infinity and making the two of them a mere element in a rolling, surging
multitude.

When the music slowed Jim reckoned the spell would be broken, but the boy
stayed with him and as a gentler tempo enveloped them and the lights turned
into a moody shade of blue he could almost convince himself they were alone
and moving together in total accord.

They didn't say much, they didn't say anything in fact, the music was soft,
but the people were loud.
But the boy stepped close to him, smack dab in his personal space and near
enough for him to breathe in the fragrance of his youthfulness, near enough
for him to feel the warmth of his body inches away from his own.
He had a beautiful face, a perky nose and his soft pink mouth seemed to
invite kisses more than conversation.

Amid the crowd he slipped an arm around the boys waist and opened his hand
to connect with the small of his back, and when his hips pressed forward
against the kid he realised just how fragile the barrier of his trousers
were.
When the music finally stopped the kid drew back, clapped his hands and
grinned with a set of terrific white teeth before rushing away into the back
room.

Got to have a drink after that! thought Jim Beeney.

His senses were tingling when he returned to his table, but he wasn't left
to contemplate his feelings alone.
Giuseppe came over, grinning as he plonked his broad backside in a chair and
dosed him another shot of grappa.
"Hey, I see you have a good time on the floor with my boy Tomaso, Jim. You
like him, huh?"

Jim visibly paled. His boy! His son! He sat mute and in awe, as if he'd just
been zapped by a stun gun.

The rotund Italian rose up from his chair and moved it closer.
"I thought maybe you'd like to handle him a little."

"H-handle him?"

"Yeah, y'know. Be alone with him and whack him off. I can arrange it for a
price."

Jim's pulse raced and he had to stifle an urge to lick his lips. His senses
swam. He was overloaded with the drink he'd consumed and the heady
atmosphere he'd encountered on the dance floor, not to mention the memory he
had of his hands on the young boys body while his dick stretched his pants.
Was he hearing things right? His fingers flexed on his liquor glass. Like
Bacchus the Greek god of wine and wantonness Giuseppe was tempting him with
things he knew he shouldn't do.

"That's kind of an unusual offer, and I have to admit it's a tempting one."
he answered very cautiously. "The kid's a nice distraction, but  - he's your
son, Giuseppe."

The other man nodded. "Oh sure. But he won't object to earning a little
extra pin-money as long as it's with a guy like you. And hey, it's only a
bit of jerking-off after all."
He rubbed two fingers against the side of his nose in an Italian gesture
that meant it could be done.
"Trust me." he said.

The image of that gorgeous Italian boy whirled in Jim's mind to fudge all
his scruples, and head remained in something of a fuzz as he handed over
cash like he was an automate.
Giuseppe stood up and stuffed a wad of notes in a waistcoat pocket, then
flicked his head to indicate he should follow. Then he shunted him through
the crowd to a tiny side room that was curtained off as a sort of secluded
dining area.
"Hang on here a couple o' minutes, Jim." he said with a secretive wink,
"I'll send Tomaso through to you."

As he sat down a mixture of a shiver and tingling anticipation assailed Jim
Beeney's flesh, and goosebumps popped up all over his body.
What the hell had he allowed himself to be talked into? Giuseppe's son was
young and luscious, but playing around in that little beauties pants would
be like playing with fire. The kid was pure jailbait.

A swish of curtains and Tomaso was there with him, and all Jim's
uncertainties and second-thoughts evaporated. The boy looked just as
mouth-watering as he'd been on the dance-floor.
His brown eyes looked slightly apprehensive as he closed the screen and
fastened it shut, but that was only natural, they'd only known each other
for a few minutes, and he was still a schoolkid, wasn't he? It was still
hard to believe his old man would put him into such an indecent situation
with a stranger.

Clearly Tomaso knew the score though. At once he went over and sat beside
him, and as soon as he'd settled Jim felt excited, impatient and in a hurry.
He suffered a sudden flush of hot interest - and so did his dick.
He had an urge to put an arm around him, put a hand inside his shirt, nuzzle
his pretty neck and bite it, but the moment he moved the boys own arm went
up between them to bar his way.
"No, signore. Papa say, the hand - only the hand."

Uh - oh, Jim thought, he was in a goddamn store where guys only get what
they pay for.

Tomaso leaned back and swung his knees open, then came a slight grating
sound as the zip on the front of his Levi's went down.
No shying away from that bit. No shyness whatsoever.

Gauging the mood more calmly Jim put a hand on the boys knee and carefully
caressed his leg and upper thigh before he reached in where he was
permitted. He allowed himself a scant second to absorb the feel of Tomaso's
youthful skin and to appreciate the heady drug of having a young fella lead
him to the exact location he wanted to visit before he went further.

The warmth of the boys limbs was invigorating, mind-blowing. His thighs
seemed hot, the skin even softer and finer than he'd anticipated.
He pulled the fly of the kid's jeans open wide and his hand went in low,
beneath the delicate dip of the boys belly and over the silky curve of his
thigh.
Tomaso had removed his under briefs before joining him. No pubes yet, but he
had a beautiful cock, pleasingly large for someone with such a petite body,
impeccably shaped and already semi-erect above a pair of succulent, well
formed testicles.

Almost casually his fingers flexed around the half-risen boy flesh, and for
a second he hesitated.
Take it easy, he told himself, don't startle him by being too brisk and
brutal.

"Signore!" The boy gazed up at him with his big brown eyes while his hand
moved over to nudge his fingers. "It's okay. Do it."

Fortified by the boys urging he tucked his fingers under the firm flesh and
closed his thumb over the top of it, marvelling as he defined the swollen
sturdy core beneath the pliable silk-like foreskin.

He'd done it before - cute kids on the beach, shy kids in alley's - he'd
tossed 'em off royally whenever a chance came his way, but he'd never done
it with quite so much open compliance from a boy in the past.
With the boys dick securely wrapped in his hand he slowly wrinkled the skin
north and south and noticed the length extend slightly and felt the girth
expand a little more.
He also heard the kids breath quicken, his soft sighs encouraging him to
make his hand work faster.

Jim started stroking in earnest,  rolling the soft skin up and down with
steady rhythmic movements of his hand, and inevitably the truncation of meat
he was working on rose up stiff and as solid as a bone in a velvet envelope.
The boys head lolled back as he surrendered totally to what was happening,
giving complete leeway to the pushing and pulling on his dick. The man's
touch made his eyelids droop and flutter, and he responded to his undivided
attention with little gasps.
"Uuugh, aah, aaaaah!"

Oh, yes, Jim thought. He liked to hear them pant when he did this for them.
Within moments the boys dick had swollen and grown to a delectable size and
he could define the solid nature and the enlarged veins in the blood
engorged meat.

He picked up the pace, hauling down the sheath of foreskin to expose the
fat, pink, epithelial surface of the boys pretty helmet glistening with
moisture, slowly becoming mesmerised by the movements of his own hand as it
slicked up and down that lovely length of boy-prod.
And yes,  he came to enjoy the feel of precum seeping onto his knuckles.

Jim Beeney loved doing it for young un's. He loved their stares of
wonderment, their gasps, their pretty squeals of ecstasy when an ejaculation
rose up in their glands.
This kid had plenty of juice to give, he just knew it, and he was determined
to pump out a whole darn dish full.

Soon enough Tomaso was tensing up and his breathing became heavy and
laboured, his eyelids started blinking more rapidly and his face contorted.
And now Jim Beeney was reaching under to stroke the back of Tomaso's scrotum
and roll the plump nuts around in their fleshy little ball-sac, and while he
did that his hand continued pounding the swollen length of boyshaft and
coaxing more slavers of precum out from the flaring pee-hole at the tip of
its plum-head.

Tomaso's thighs began jerking and shuddering rapidly.
"Mmmm, aaaah!"
Oh yeah! His prick was near man-size now, solid and standing up like a
gatepost.
Quite a weapon - a firecracker that would make quite a mess when it went
off.

"Ooh, signore. Oooooow, signore. Aaaah, aaah, OOOOOOWWW!"

A heavy glop of translucent cream jumped out from the shiny knob-end, shot
an inch in the air and swirled crazily for a split-second before splashing
down to drape Jim Beeney's fingers.
"Guuunn!
Out came another packet making a stronger exit, spitting twice the amount
and leaping three times the height before collapsing.
"Wow!" muttered the man in admiration.

But it ended just as suddenly as that, and as a rivulet of warm cum flowed
over the back of his hand Jim slowed down to squeeze out the remaining ooze
from the kids squidgy nossle. Finally he relaxed his grip and met the kids
dazed brown eyes, all smoky with wonder.

Tomaso provided some brief treatment for himself with a napkin taken from
the table nearby, and a moment later with business over, up went the kids
trouser zip and up went the boy himself. Straight up and out through the
curtain-screen.

The kid was gone, just like that, leaving Jim Beeney sitting alone in his
curtained little booth with his dick sticking up in his pants like the
goddamned Statue of Liberty.
What was that all about? Where was the satisfaction in that? He was
teetering on the brink himself, but he wasn't going to get there now,
dammit.

Pushing up from his seat he staggered. The wine and the grappa were getting
to him and things began to turn in circles.
Confused, frustrated, pissed and pissed-off, he stumbled out from the
Limonaia and went to his bed.

***

The next morning he awoke late with the sun blasting loud daylight and
intense heat through a set of brocade curtains. He was hot, and his first
thought was that he needed a shower.

Afterwards he paced up and down in his hotel room, arms clamped across his
chest, frowning.
He'd hoped a new day would bring new thoughts and different enthusiasms, and
maybe he'd be able to tuck the heady little episode with the Italian boy
neatly away in his mind. But he was wrong. He couldn't get young Tomaso out
of his head.
Charged memories of the evening before played over and over - the boys young
vibrant cock in his hand, his soft moans, the hot cream leaping out and
slopping over his fingers - all of that bounced around inside his skull like
a Ping-Pong ball.

The kid was a treasure he'd yet to truly plunder, a feast he'd only touched
and needed to consume. He had to see him again.
Oh, how he wanted him. To feel his youthful body surrender to his desires
and dissolve beneath him. Could there be anything more thrilling? He had to
have more of him.

And why not? he told himself while gazing into a wall mirror. Jim Beeney was
still in his prime.
Sucking in his stomach he puffed out his chest. Not bad. Forty-three and
still in fair shape. Not repulsive. Good jawline, nice teeth. He looked a
little rugged, and kid's went for rugged looks.
And his dick - a real fine rammer when he had a bone on. Everyone admired
his dick.

Going down stairs he pestered the hotel staff for some coffee and ate a
little toasted ciabatta, then after mulling things over he went round to the
trattoria to see Giuseppi.

"I'm only here in Florence for a couple of days, and I'm keen to see the
Piazzale Michelangelo with its statue of David." he explained. "The folks
back home will scalp me alive if I go back without seeing the usual tourist
things, and since I don't know my way around I was hoping you'd let me have
Tomaso as a guide."

Giuseppe smiled affably. "Sure, that's possible, he's on a break from school
today. But he helps in the kitchen at times like this, and he'll be missed."

It was a neat way of saying he wanted payment, so Jim hauled out his wallet
and allowed the cafe owner to take out some notes. He probably took more
than was reasonable, but what the hell, Jim Beeney was on holiday now.

"Say, er, that was quite a nice little thing you organised for me last
night," Jim murmured intimately, "Is, er, is Tomaso up for anything else?"

Guiseppe merely blinked languidly as he tucked away his fee.
"Maybe. Be a good uncle to him and who knows. What else can I say?"

It was an annoying uncommittal reply, and Jim realised he'd handled this
particular deal all wrong. It should have been expected. The fella had his
money and now he didn't give a monkey's cuss about anything else.

When the kid came swinging out through the door to meet him Jim had no
regrets, and the kid seemed to have none either. Nor thankfully did he show
any resentment for the indecencies they'd shared the previous evening.
Outside in the sunshine and light he looked cheerful and radiant, which
probably stemmed from being let out from the sweatshop of a kitchen.

Fresh as a daisy, thought Jim. He was wearing dark-blue shorts, a pale blue
short-sleeved shirt and his leather sandals. The little pants were very
tight and VERY short, just like boys wear when they know they have superb
legs.
And Tomaso did have superb legs.

"Be back here by 6-o-clock." his father told him.
That also told Jim Beeney there was a time limit on the boys company.
Still, it did mean he had him for the whole afternoon.

They set off down a narrow little side street jammed with Vespas and
minicars, all squashed into impossibly small parking spaces.
Jim felt slightly awkward at first, after all he and the boy had met under
very strange circumstances, but even so he couldn't help but feel pleased.
Tomaso's head barely topped his shoulders and he looked a sweet kind of
dinky thing striding along at his side.

It was exhilarating to have the boy as company, he appealed to him on every
level, it was like when he was young and had walked-out with a girl for the
first time.
He liked the boy too. Liked his self-confidence, the teasing twinkle in his
eyes, the joy in his voice.
He had an impulse to put an arm around him, but he didn't know if he would
except that, and anyway he decided that kind of thing would make things too
obvious to others.

The wider avenues were impeded by great numbers of the kind of pavement
cafes that are a trademark of continental Europe, and most of the women in
town were chic, accessorized to the hilt, not an hair out of place as they
sashayed along the pavements in their towering high heels.
Some of the Italian guys were really good-looking too, and plenty of them
gave Tomaso the eye, so maybe the appreciation of beauty was a reflexsive
thing with them, a national trait that switched on automatically.

Jim watched the kid skipping ahead like a sprite, flashing his bare, smooth
sun-tanned legs. Tomaso seemed to like being admired and even smiled back at
the men a few times, and with Giuseppe promoting his services Jim Beeney
couldn't help wondering just how many of those guys had played around with
his delectable Sunday joint, and who else had known the joy of tossing him
off!
He couldn't blame them. He was irresistible little prick-teaser. His little
blue pants clung to him like a second skin, and as sure as hell he wasn't
wearing anything else under them. They accentuating every nubile curve of
his backside and every provocative point of developing boyhood in front.

The city of Florence is unapologetic Kodak country for visitors, and Jim
Beeney discovered that most of the popular sights could be seen by just
walking around. That may have been pretty time consuming but it was well
worth it since beauty was everywhere: in the old streets and stone
buildings, the piazzas dotted with statues, in the markets piled with fruit
and vegetables, and in the doorways draped with jasmine and wisteria.
And it was in the boy who was his companion.

All the time he wondered if that darling young thing would provide him with
any special favours that day? He didn't want to spoil things by pushing his
luck, but he couldn't help the way he was thinking.
Just how did he go about getting inside the kids pants again?

He was glad he'd brought along two camera's, because like kids everywhere
Tomaso liked to be photographed, and he knew it would be important to keep
pictures of that item on his menu separate when he went back Stateside.

They did the Duoma cathedral and the other big stuff then strolled along the
banks of the River Arno to see the statues of the Four Seasons on the Pont
Santa Trinita, pausing to enjoy a couple of enormous Italian ice creams
before crossing back again by way of the Pont Vecchio.

Lured by the glitter of low grade gold they stopped at a stall in a street
market, and there he saw Tomaso's eyes light up. A piece of pendant
jewellery had caught his eye: two bands of gold twisted together, centred
with a cabochon of clear crystal.
It was inexpensive, so he bought it for the kid.
But then Tomaso hung back and kept admiring a Rolex watch too.

Fortunately the watch was a cheap imitation so that didn't break the bank
either, and he was glad he eventually bought it for him. He'd spent an
entire afternoon viewing the sights in one of the world's most beautiful
cities, but in the end every one of them had been topped by the presence of
the beautiful Tomaso.

"Grazie, signore." Tomaso said with a broad smile, plainly excited and
enchanted by the gifts.
Jim felt a thrill rush through him as he fastened the chain about his
slender neck. For him it was part of the courting game, the chase, the
excitement of seduction.
He wasn't a selfish man. He treated his women gently, and he treated boys
gently too. He cared about the people he dated. He cared about his wife and
had been madly in love with her once. But he'd never known feelings with her
like he felt at that moment.
Inside he was simmering with feelings of intense lust.

A little while after Tomaso led him through a set of tall, wide gates into a
kind of municipal garden where paths meandered through towering
rhododendrons and other stuff.
He took him along a path less used by other people, and when he swung up
another narrow track where people didn't seem to go at all Jim at last had
the courage to put an arm around him.
Heavens gates opened when the kid leaned into him.

While he sat on a wooden bench in a leafy arbour Tomaso must have figured he
owed him one for the presents, because he unbuttoning his shirt and swung it
back on his shoulders to display his bare young torso, then he stood up and
volunteered to pose for some photographs.

Jim noticed without commenting that the top button of the kids pants was
also unfastened.

Grinning like the devil Tomaso stepped out in front and swung his hands up
behind his head. Without waiting for any direction he then swivelled his
hips to and fro, undulating his young body like a solicitous snake and
posing like some bimbo-chick in a men's magazine.

Jim Beeney's spare camera clicked and whirred rapidly.
Sure as hell these little snapshots needed to be kept separate from anything
else, he decided.

Tomaso's slender body continued to sway around, then suddenly and without
any coaxing he reached down and extracted his prick and balls from the front
of his pants. He jerked his cock briefly with his hand to put a little bone
in it, then offering a wicked smile as he twisted his hips in a provocative
notice-me kind of way.
"Here Jim, this make for good pictures, huh! Photograph me like this."

Jim Beeney had known few concerns that day, and the only worry he had then
was that he may run out of film.

When the kid made no attempt to adjust his clothes and joined him on the
seat, Jim felt his generosity with gifts was about to payoff with
top-dollar. He sensed it was unambiguous reward-time

Sunlight filtered through the overhanging shrubs to cast the kids bare skin
in a rosy light as he leaned close, the warmth of his body teasing him.
The light, sexy scent of him was different to a woman but no less
stimulating, and the forbidden, sinfulness of the situation only added
intoxication.
Jim Beeney registered no surprise when he felt good old Liberty again trying
to bust the front of his slacks.

The boy closed his eyes for a moment and pressed forward, his long dark
lashes brushing his man friends cheekbone. When he opened them again his
mischievous eyes were dark and sexy.
Quite on impulse Jim put a hand behind his head and kissed him on the lips,
and this time Tomaso not only let him do as he wished, but his soft young
mouth opened and he pulled the man's head down so that their two tongues
could meet in lush abandon.
On both sides searching fingers, hungry mouths and caressing tongues began
to work their magic.

The kid's near naked body writhed in his arms and he tilted up his chest to
show a pair of tight rosy tips thrusting upward at his mouth and plainly
seeking some attention.
Jim lowered his mouth onto the delicate curve of his chest and his mouth
drew on one pert little peak and then the other, alternating the strokes of
his tongue with the suckling of his lips.
Tomaso gave out a throaty hum as his head fell back, fingers spearing
through Jim Beeney's hair to clutch his neck and hold him in place. He
arched and sighed against him, his hands raking up and down Jim's back as
the man fed upon his flesh.

His skin tasted cool at first to Jim Beeney, but the more his mouth worked
on it the hotter it became.
He loved boys, he loved everything about them: the way their minds worked,
their innocence, their crazy sense of humour and their fiery passion. He
enjoyed making love to them. They were givers.

With his thumbs he circled the tiny puffy nimbus around the boys erect
nipples.
"How old are you, Tomaso?"
"Tomaso is thirteen next month." came the breathy reply.
Wow, thought Jim, he was doing tit-love with a half-undressed
twelve-year-old.

The boys searching caresses sought out every erogenous place on his body,
and leaning forward the man returned everything in kind, pulling on his
little teats and nibbling his naked flesh as feelings of lust engulfed him.

Showing incredible expertise Tomaso caressed the taut shape beneath his
man-friends much-taxed zipper, then he dragged it open. And at once his
fingers dipped inside the open fly to worm their way into the front of his
boxers

"Wow!" The man bucked with the sharp pleasure of the touch, and heat sizzled
through Jim Beeney as the youngster hauled out his prick.
Oh yeah! The sweet torment of slender fingers closed about his horn, and in
a delicious reversing of the roles they'd had the previous night Tomaso was
soon giving him the old one-two, while sliding his own stiff and hefty
little-kid rammer against his own.

"Mmmm, magnificentia! Your prick is a wonder, Jim, but it's getting late and
I gotta go soon. I gotta be back for 6-o-clock." said Tomaso.

Jim Beeney sucked in a breath. "Sure, sure, but not before ..."

"I suck your prick, yes? I suck you off, then I go, okay."
Jim couldn't argue with that.

Tomaso's eyes gleamed and his face glowed, and then he slumped down, the tip
of his tongue doing a little wiggly dance in his pee-hole before his smooth
lips holstered over his dick.
Oh yes! There was no arguing with that kind of treat.

The boys mouth made slow, thorough love to his rampant shaft, moving with
feather-like softness up and down the entire length. Tomaso was leaning into
it, giving it dedication, going all the way down, then right back up to have
his mouth do exquisite little corkscrew movements under the rim of his knob.

The mouth on his cock moved with pure enthusiasm, appreciation and maybe
even a hint of affection, and he became immobilised by the sensation of
those skilful velveteen lips sliding up and down.
His nerves jangled with delight. Tomaso's fingers  and mouth wrought
delicious sensations that reverberated throughout Jim's entire body, and as
his moist, warm lips worked their magic an electric current buzzed in his
cock and his skin flushed hot.

An unbearable ache coiled in his shaft and Jim felt the macho juices
percolating in his balls.
Oh yeah! Bliss! He was gunna give this sweet little schoolboy-honey a real
mouthful.

"Woooow!"
It was a blast. He felt the cream shooting up his pole like the lava coming
out of Vesuvius.

It was a good wad like he always did, and the sudden rush of stuff made the
kid blink in surprise. But Tomaso didn't try to avoid any of it, in fact he
held himself in place and hardly moved while the hot goo was jumping into
his mouth.
Even then he didn't just hang on, he pumped with his lips, tossing off Jim's
man-dick with his mouth while sucking out every slush of heaving juice.

At last he raised his head. "Was that okay?" he asked.

"Damn right it was okay." Jim replied, exultant at the performance.
Tomaso was extremely adept at what he'd done, professional one could say. It
sure wasn't a one-off excursion for him. He'd done it plenty before.

Stunned by the volatile nature of his emission, Jim sat still for a while,
but Tomaso was more businesslike.
He glanced at the watch on his wrist. "Dio mia! I must hurry, I'm going to
be late."
And without even a by-your-leave he was off, galloping down the path, fixing
his clothes as he ran.
Dammit! cursed Jim Beeney, every time he got hot with that young boy he'd up
and scoot off and leave him wanting more.

He'd clearly been given license by his papa to be immoral, and he was
practised and thoroughly shameless in the way he exploited his youthful
charms.
Tomaso had just sucked the gravy out of him, so it stood to reason he'd take
a length in his cute ass too.

Jim Beeney just had to have that, he just had to dick the kid.
There was no doubt in his mind that his dear daddy hired him out for that
kind of thing, and he had to feel his dick ranging around inside the kid's
tantalising little butt before he departed from Florence.

His pop had said for him to be back for 6-0-clock - probably to meet some
other client if he read the old pervert right. That didn't mean there may
not be some time for himself afterwards.

He glanced at his wristwatch and was puzzled. It wasn't even near 5-o-clock
yet, so what was his tearing rush to get away all about?
Then things became clear. "Darn it! That cranky Rolex he'd bought him at the
market had been running an hour fast.

***

When he got back to the trattoria he found the place empty. It was the late
afternoon lull before people started coming in for evening meals, and even
the guy looking after the bar seemed bored.

"Have you seen Tomaso?" he asked him.

The guy didn't say anything and his expression remained blank. He just
shrugged.

"Is Giuseppe around?"

"He'll be in later."

Jim decided to wait for the kid's pa to turn up, and maybe then strike some
kind of dubious deal with the unscrupulous old goat.
Sighing, he waved his questions away. "Never mind. Got any beer?"

"Italian, English or American?"

"Make it a Bud'."

He was leaning on the bar and feeling impatient when a woman walked through
the door.
What a dish! Oh, yes. Quite something to look at. Magnificent face and a
marvellous dream of a figure.
Curvy, flamboyant in yellow, elegant in pearls, leggy in matching heels.
Were it not for her evocative short skirt she could have been some showbiz
diva going to the Oscars.
She emanated sophistication, dripped with a high lifestyle, what was she
doing here?

"Hi." she said.

It took a moment to register she was talking in his direction.
"Hello, I - er - don't think we've met."

Her eyes scanned him up and down and she gave him a Sunday-lunchtime look
before gravitating towards him.
"You're the Americano guy called Jeem who danced with Tomaso last night,
si?"

What an opening line! It was cringe making. Fancy a doll like her noticing
him inching up to a schoolboy!
Heat flashed up Jim Beeney's spine and he felt his face flush, but he tried
to make light of it.
"The kid and I joshed around a little, that was all."

Her face broke into a broad smile that enhanced her fine looks.
"My name is Sophia, it was my pardy here las' night."

"Your - pardy?"

The woman tutted with irritation, clearly reckoning he was either ignorant
or obtuse.
"My birthday, I's twenny-one now."
She swung a slim body left and right in a way that was intriguing. "I
enjoyed watching you dance with the boy. It was priddy sexy."

Her scintillating eyes studied him for a while, then she said, "Prego, una
momento, signore." and she asked a question to the barman in quick-fire
Italian.
The fella twitched his head towards the rear of the building, at which the
woman turned back to Jim with a gracious smile.

"I'm pleased to find you here Jeem. I can use you. Will you come with me
through to the back room?"

Go with her! Jeepers! What the hell had she in mind?
Her little dress was backless and low cut, and from the way things moved
around inside it she sure wasn't wearing a bra.
Most guys would have followed that little piece of heaven anywhere, and he
was no different.

He dumped his beer on the bar and tagged on behind, and the term 'lamb to
the slaughter' formed in his mind.
But, hey! She was a good looking bitch, so whatever it was she had planned
was sure to fill his time nicely.

They went down a narrow passage where the apple-green Lucca silk walls were
faded and
the parquet floor was scuffed from the constant tread of stiletto heels.
The woman seemed to know her way around and at the end of it she pushed
through a bead door curtain into a long, low-beamed room with terracotta
tiled floors and old stone walls.
To their left were a few tables and chairs, and opposite them a sitting area
with a couple of beat-up green leather sofas.
He noticed that cushions had been carefully placed upon worn spots on the
sofas, so obviously this little secluded place was a well-used.

Sophia strutted into the centre of the room and perched her hands on her
hips in a way that's typical of Italian women.
"Tomaso, TOMASO!" she called.

There was a pause, and then Jim turned and saw Tomaso standing in another
entrance on the far side of the room. He was wearing nothing but a tiny pair
of white thong-pants, and the light behind him outlined his figure in a
silhouette of immense sensuality.
As he entered the room his style and confidence made it obvious he was
accustomed to being studied and admired. His body seemed to court attention
with its youthful firmness.

"Mia principessa. Quanto bella." Sophia said as she greeted him.

Heck! So the woman was the boys 6-0-clock date! He'd never dreamed the kid
would be meeting up with a female.
She was calling him her lovely princess, which may have been a bit cranky
but was rather apt. Tomaso was a work of art and his translucent skin was as
smooth as silk. His graceful neck, gently sloping shoulders and slender hips
invited and teased, and he looked so damned cute in that skimpy bikini-thong
he was wearing.
And there was something else too. He was wearing lipstick. Luscious
fusia-pink lipstick, and when he blinked he revealed mascara laden eyelids.

"I've date with Tomaso myself now. It's a present. My boyfriend paid for
it." Sophia told him.

Jim nodded to indicate he understood, even though he was really utterly
baffled.

"Nice to see you again so soon." he said to Tomaso.

The boy smoothed his hands back over his bare hips and pushed out his little
chest, round and firm with erect nipples.
"You don't mind the lipstick?" he asked, "Most people like it."

"The lipstick is fine," he managed to say, "You're fine ... You look great
... Just like ...

"Just like a girl," chuckled Sophia, "For my date I have Tomaso looking like
a girl. Sexy, eh? Che bella figura,"
She was saying he looked elegant, but Jim thought sexy was more like it.

Sidling up to the boys side she put the flat of a hand on his chest and
massaged his little nipples before trailing it down over his taut belly.
Almost casually she clasped her fingers around the shapes in his minuscule
pants and joggled the contents.
"You's a naughty princess Tomaso, and I know just how naughty you can be."

For a moment she observed the cut and shape of his thongs-pants while her
fingers grazed the narrow band of elastic low on his hip, then she pursing
her mouth and clicking her tongue disapprovingly as she plucked at it.
"Take these off, pronto." she commanded.

Down went Tomaso's only item of clothing, and up rose his delightful cock,
already fattened out and semi-erect. Jim had never yet seen it laying flat -
never seen it flaccid. What a prize he was!

The woman was another matter, she was a complication he hadn't reckoned on.

Jim stepped back a pace and for a moment silence hung between them as
tangible as smoke.
Finally he stuck out his chin.
"Look lady - signorina -  I sure ain't no Mr Sweetness and Light, but I'm no
pervert either. I don't want to watch you fuck with the kid."

A slow smile spread across Sophia's face and a wicked gleam lit her eyes.
"Nah, you don't understand, you goddit wrong, Jeem. Tomaso not fok me. I'm a
good girl who stays faithful to her boyfriend."
She squared up to him without the least sign of temerity. "You godda taste
for young boys. That's right, huh? So I watch while YOU fok him."

Jim's jaw dropped, but at last a light of realisation began to rise in his
eyes.

The woman may have been young and exquisitely pretty, but she'd acquired a
decadent appetite. As sure as daylight she was a voyeur who got her kicks
watching other folk fuck.
The set-up of the room they were in then made sense. The chairs and tables
on one side - the sofa's on the other. It was an exhibitionist arena -
people paid to sit in the chairs and watch other people screw each other on
the couches.

Without waiting for his response Sophia took a hold on the boys arm and led
him over to one of the sofas to supervise him kneeling up on the seat,
making his hands grip the back of the furniture, pushing his knees well
apart.
Giving him a little smack on the backside she indicated for him to dip his
belly and shove out his pretty buns.

Tomaso's young butt-cheeks were smooth and hairless, just like Jim knew they
would be, delicately curved, soft and pale, slightly less tanned than the
rest of his body, and made even more exciting by being poised above a
delicious dangle of schoolboy balls.

Sophia placed a hand on each bottom cheek and her long, bejewelled fingers
separated them - stretched them wide - to reveal his anus - a little bud, an
inviting whorl of a small, pink rosette.

"Ugh!" Tomaso mewled at the sudden indiscreet exposure, and Sophia chastised
him with a few harsh words in Italian.
"Hah! One would think he'd never been opened up like this before," she said
to Jim, "But the little tart foks with guys all the time. You know he's a
whore, don't you? You know the kid's papa pimps for him?"

"I kinda guessed that some time ago." replied Jim, reckoning the chances
were that Tomaso performed in the little room they were in quite often.

"Get your pants off, Jim." the woman told him, and when she saw him hesitate
she scoffed derisively. "C'mon, I's seen plenny o' cocks before, all sizes,
all colours. D'yu wanna fok the kid or not?"

Hell! Jim Beeney chaffed. He didn't relish having a witness to his sodomy
with a schoolboy, and as sure as hell he didn't want to do it with a dame
watching, but at least the setting was right for it, and he WAS in the mood.
And woman watching or no, he wasn't going to turn down this opportunity.
At least there would only be an audience of one that day.

He ditched all thought of restraint and growled low in his throat, an
indication of the fierce craving he had to possess the boy completely.
Desired pooled in his belly and flooded his thighs and blood whooshed
through his veins with volcanic force.
Yes, he wanted to fuck him. He wanted to be inside his cute ass now, five
minutes ago, yesterday.

He wasn't going to pass-up and offer like this one. And heck. Already his
fingers were pulling at his belt.
Hands on thighs he tugged his slacks down over his hips.
Trousers off and sex rampant, he was ready for a time of sex and orgasm. The
pursuit of erotic desire. Pleasure without recriminations.
And he was going to wallow in it.

Obligingly Sophia had drizzled a good deal of oil on the target of his
desire while she was waiting, and when he went forward she again spread the
kids buttocks, holding them open as she watched closely.

"Aaah!" Tomaso moaned as he screwed the tip of his dick on the pretty, pink
rosette, applying pressure enough to make it open up and spread around the
smooth, broad crest.
A push and the head went in, making the boys anus indent inwards and become
concave.
"Oooh!" Tomaso cried out as he speared forward.

He drew back a fraction, then screwed his prong deeper.
"Oooow!"

Sophia's eyes sparkled as she drew back to lever her breasts out over the
front of her dress and roll them around in her hands. She had a pair of
nipples that stood out like cigarette butts, but at that moment they offered
no alternative to what Jim Beeney was already doing.

Another push, a heave, and his thick length slid in to the hilt, up to his
balls. The boys young muscles surrendered to the inward plunge before
contracting around it, and then he and Jim Beeney made noises in unison.
"Aaaah!" "Gaaah!" "Mmmmm!" "Ooooooh!"

Everything slid in easily, and Jim reckoned he'd filled every corner of
available space. Filled him completely. He could hardly move for a second,
couldn't think. He was only conscious of the cloying heat around his prick.

"That's it, give him plenny, Jeem. Give him the works." the woman urged
heatedly. "Fella's tell me his lil' chute takes man-cock easy."

He gripped Tomaso's hips and started pumping his thick shaft back and forth,
back and forth, in and out.
Then Sophia moved round and he felt her slump against him - he could feel
her bare tits scrapping up and down his back.
"Fok him Jeem. Oh yeah, fok him deep. I'm told Tomaso moves like a girl when
he's got a man's dick in his ass. Is it true, Jeem? How does it feel? Is he
a tight fit for you? Is he hot?"

As she squirmed and muttered her degenerate queries her hands stroked his
backside in circles to encourage his pumping gyrations.
"I shove my fingers up his ass sometimes, but it's not the same. I'd like to
have a big prick and fok him like a man," she sighed,  "But I'm only a poor
girl and I can only know what I'm told."

Suddenly she pushed herself back.
"I can't get at him like this." she complained, "You sid-down an' let Tomaso
ride you."

Well, it was her date, so Jim wasn't about to make any fuss, but he wasn't
going to break contact either. He took a firm grip of the boy as he heeled
over slowly onto the sofa, carefully hauling the kid around with him and
settling him astride his thighs.

Tomaso sank back against his chest as he swivelled the kids hips on his lap
and pushed his cock deep into the soft, satiny, moist warmth of his anus to
root him a couple of times and re-establish things.
The boy seemed to relish the mixture of pleasure and pain every pounding
movement wrought, but Jim felt awkward. He was helpless sitting there with
his cock so stiff and so damned deep inside the kid. He was practically
immobilised.

Sophia slid down beside them on the sofa, and Jim caught his breath as he
felt her slim fingers caressing his balls. She was stroking his taut bag
whilst leaning in to observe the base of his thick, lubricated rammer wedged
inside Tomaso.
Eventually her hand moved up to play with Tomaso's smaller balls, then she
took hold of the kids stiff dick and started to hand-job it.

"Ah, bellisimo!" she exclaimed as the plump tip began to weep in her
fingers. "Keep still for a few moments." she urged.
Her eyes became hooded under their lids and her lips pushed forward in a
fevered pout. She seemed to debate something in her head for a moment before
making a decision.

Then her tongue reached out and she licked Tomaso's plum-shaped tip -
lapping all around it like it was a succulent piece of fruit before opening
her mouth and taking it in.
What she provided then was a mouth-job to end all mouth-jobs. She feasted on
him, moving up and down his entire length with slow languorous nods of her
head.

Jim Beeney's mind reeled around in a hot fog. His penis throbbed intensely
inside Tomaso and he thought he'd shoot too soon, but he managed to hold
things back, and it was the boy who emptied out his treasure first -
straight into the lady's greedy, sucking mouth.

Tomaso gave no big performance when he jacked-off. There was no great howl,
but instead a succession of panting, throaty grunts as he let everything go,
but the tiny, fierce pulsing of his anal muscles again nearly nudged his
man-lover over the edge.

The woman's eyelids drooped and fluttered slightly as she accepted the
ejected contents of Tomaso's balls, but otherwise she showed no sign of
receiving anything in her mouth. Only when she opened up to lick the boys
knob again did she reveal traces of semen puddling on her tongue and teeth.

Eventually she levered herself up and just looked at them sprawled out on
the couch. A mature, middle-aged guy with his stiff dick stuffed up a
smooth-bodied young kid.

Her eyes were glazed, her bare breasts shaking, and she had one hand stuffed
up the front of her skirt, jiggling away merrily.
Typically, Jim Beeney reckoned he could hear the soft squelching as her
fingers circled and probed between her legs.

"Oh, yeah. Go on. Do him plenny good," she urged. "Cum in him Jim, Your cock
goes up right into his belly, and I want to know you do your stuff in
there."

Jim shifted the boy on his lap and arched his thighs wildly, and Tomaso's
anus clenched around his shaft as it contracted in sweet spasm. He then
lifted him again so he could withdraw a little, then lowered him back down
so he could appreciate the full penetrating movement.
Tomaso rode his waves of pleasure, grinding his buttocks down in unconscious
rhythm until Jim was howling with his own release.

"Aaah, aaaah, AAAAAAHHHH!"
Bright lights flashed behind his eyes as a prodigious quantity of liquid
seed  surged up his muscular stem and spouted into the mystery of the boys
clutching insides.
Oh yeah! It was a mammoth, man-sized dose. One to remember. A real deluge
for a kids rectum to deal with.

When his eyes focused again Sophia was standing up and straightening her
dress in the attitude of some ruffled prima-donna. She looked fazed and was
shaking slightly, and Jim couldn't help thinking she'd suffered a nice
little climax of her own.

"You's two is't vary naughty boys, y'know" she said. "You's sexy. You's make
a good girl's pussy wet when she watch you doing randy, homo jig-jigs. I go
find my boyfriend and fok with him now."

Within moments she was out the door, and left to themselves at last the man
and boy shared a relaxed few moments.
Eyes at half-mast, Tomaso twisted his head round and to look up at him.
"You creamed in me, Jim. You did a great big spunk."

Satisfaction resonated through Jim Beeney. "Yeah, I guess I did. You're a
real hot fuck, kid. I'd like to do it all over again and take my time about
it."

The boy snuggled happily against him.
"Pay papa the money to sleep with me tonight. We have lots more spunk-fun
together. I let you fuck my ass all the time."

Maybe there was an element of genuine affection there, or maybe Tomaso was
just giving him the avaristic come-on of a streetwise rent boy. It didn't
matter.

Right at that moment he didn't think anyone had come up with a better idea
since they'd invented Christmas.

And Jim Beeney was on holiday now.