Date: Fri, 13 May 2005 07:53:18 -0400
From: SSch191950@aol.com
Subject: The Lizard (part 2), chapter 7/10

THE LIZARD - Book 2: Estate
by Stefan


Note: The descriptions of Pisa's Campanile are made by Andrew. Thanks very
much.  Comments are welcome.

______________

7
______________


"Carino,

Exciting news! Yesterday Tristano and I passed San Lorenzo and I remembered
that they started the excavations at the Medici-tombs some days ago. They
will examine the graves at the church of San Lorenzo as well as in the
Principe's chapel. In the crypt they made an exciting discovery: Under the
grave of the last Medici ruler Gian Gastone they found a subterranean
secret chamber with the bones of eight corpses, most of them babies and
children. I've attached a newspaper clipping so you can read for
yourself. Isn't it great? But they won't examine the bones of Lorenzo
Magnifico because then they would have to remove the statues made by
Michelangelo standing above the tomb and they don't want to risk
it. Tristano said they were dying of a heavy kind of gout, but the experts
aren't sure if this was the reason for their deaths.

Gioia, I'd be really pleased if you could book a hotel room for us. Rosso
will be staying in a tent with his little brothers and to be honest, I
don't fancy that. I haven't ask my parents about the trip to Rome. It was
difficult enough to convince them to allow me to go with you to the sea
side. Father is somewhat on my side, but I guess just because he feels he
has to protect his youngest son against the verbal insults from Dante and
Marcello. Dante's out of hospital by the way. He's doing better but still
can't go to work. Marcello's wrists are healing but there's only two weeks
before the summer holidays anyway, so he won't return to work either.

Raniero's been expelled from the workshop for good. Coppo resisted the
influence of his family and despite the fact that he was a promising talent
he said he didn't want a jerk in his class. Mind you, Coppo has confessed
that he's gay too! My father knew but he had repressed it. And some of our
class mates support us. Me and Tristano that is.

Yes, I've heard from Giano. He's working with Tino in the music shop to
earn a bit of money. He seems to enjoy that.

My train arrives Friday afternoon in Pisa at 5:15 pm. I miss you too."

Baci,

Luca"


Alessandro unfolded the newspaper article and became absorbed.




"... about 6 square metres long, two and a half meters high crypt. For
almost 300 years it remained undetected! Corpses were lying everywhere...

... What a spectacular prelude to the unequalled "Operation
Medici". Italian experts want to open all 49 Medici-graves. This should
clarify the circumstances of life, diseases, rumours about mysterious
murders by poisoning and the causes of the deaths of the relatives of the
legendary banking dynasty that ruled Florence for three centuries...

... 'The identity of the eight corpses is unknown", says Fornaciari, a
palaeontologist from Pisa. So far one thing is clear: we are dealing with
the corpses of three new born babies, two children between one and two
years old and two older children , along with a 20 year's old. Fornaciari
continued 'One of the young boys was carrying the remains of a crown in the
form of a garland of flowers.' ...

... So far the experts have managed to bring four corpses up to daylight:
the bones of grand duke Cosimo I, his wife and their children Giovanni and
Garzia. This brought to light the first surprise: The previous hypothesis
of the historians, that most of the Medici suffered from gout, begins to
seem uncertain...

... no metabolic disease like gout, but a synotivis... all skeletons and
pieces of clothes shall be DNA-examined..."



Alessandro whistled through his teeth. He knew the Florentine rumours about
grand duke Cosimo I who was reputed to have had an unhealthy longing for
his little daughter. Don Garzia and Cardinal Giovanni, Cosimo's sons, both
died at the age of twenty. The official history said they died of Malaria,
but rumours said, Don Garzia stabbed his brother during a hunting trip, and
was killed afterwards by his father Cosimo. Perhaps the Pisan professore
would now be able to bring the truth to light.

This was the stuff Florence was made of. Rumours, conspiracy, poison,
knives, murder, vendetta. What he would be able to tell an interested
audience while he led them through his hometown! This was so much more than
the clean and boring facts he had to learn about Proto-Renaissance and the
dates of battles. Though of course it would be easy to merge the two and
spice up the plain stuff.

Alessandro put the article into his exercise book, stretched out upon his
bed and thought about Luca. He missed him more than he would like to
admit. And then there was all that shit with Leoni. She was like a leech on
his trousers' leg, clinging to him wherever he went. Whenever he tried to
talk with her about the night they had spent together, she repeated the
same story over and over again almost until he started to believe it
himself. What if it was the truth? What if he had fucked her like
'Jupiter's hammer', as she stupidly described it? He couldn't imagine
becoming horny like that when a naked girl was lying in his bed. He
wouldn't be horny at all, for heaven's sake and he hadn't even been drunk
enough. Something was off about the story.

Uncle Arrigo had written to him too, about the political events in
Florence, about the everyday strike of the bus driver, about the welfare of
his mother who was still living in the clinic for rehabilitation from drugs
and alcohol, but was doing extremely well. As long as she was left in
peace, Arrigo said, and not reminded of his family. Alessandro snorted. Of
course not. As if she had ever cared about her sons. His brother Nando she
had let die alone; a wretched death in a hospital and he - Alessandro? He
was the pretty boy of the family. The youngest. The hope and the last
offspring of the Gondi-Lucertola's. The carrier of the genes. Frail and
unstable like the ones of the old Medici's whose last offsprings had all
been homosexual, soft and weak idiots, with no children, so that the long
line of the proud and strong banker's dynasty simply died out one day. They
were contemporaries of the Gondi's and now his own family would go the way
the Medici's went before them. Neither Arrigo nor his brother Emilio, the
mayor of Florence, had been able to produce children. Their fertility was
like - nil.

Sometimes he felt compassion for his uncles. If at all possible the Gondi's
mustn't die out. Why not go to Leoni and fuck the brains out of her to
father a son that would carry the long blood line?

Alessandro stood up and poured himself a glass of wine, Arrigo had sent to
Pisa from his own Tuscany vineyard. It tasted fruity and a little of herbs,
just the way he liked it. He poured another. Together with a glass of
Grappa it would be enough to make him drunk.

Despite the wide open window it was sticky in his room, there was no breeze
coming in from the river. He wondered if Florence was melting away in the
caldron of a summer's heat and he felt pity for Luca. He wished he could
stay in his palazzo, the Lizard-Tower, with its cool, thick walls that let
no heat in.

What would Luca say if Alessandro became a father? He could do it, father
the child and then leave Leoni, get a divorce and continue with his life as
it had been.

And then? Alessandro sipped at his glass. Wouldn't he feel responsible for
his child? Should it be allowed to grow up without love as he himself had
grown up?

If he only could wait! He was only nineteen and felt he wasn't mature
enough to be a father. He was still a kid himself with all the longing to
catch up with what he had missed when he was younger. The displays of bad
temper, the bad behaviour he had shown when he was an adolescent and
frightened the town, was just a protest.

On the other hand... Alessandro had finished his third glass. Now or later,
what did it matter? He swayed slightly as he rushed to the door that led to
a small corridor and opened the door to the kitchen. As always it was thick
with smoke because Leoni stood at the stove and stirred a pot. Brutally he
took her shoulder and turned her to face him. Then he pressed his lips upon
hers and ground his abdomen into hers. She gave a startled, but stifled
cry, then she succumbed. She wrapped a leg around his and he lifted her up
onto the kitchen table, while fumbling under her short skirt and tugging at
her slip. "This is what you want, right? Me fucking you like a hammer", he
hissed. But she struggled. "What are you doing, you're drunk!"

"Yeah", he giggled. "When I'm drunk I don't miss an extra thing to play
with."

Suddenly she gave up the struggle and lay down upon her back on the table.

He looked at her and his arms fell to his side. Nausea filled his
stomach. What was he doing here? Brutality was a foreign word to him. "I'm
sorry", he said, and ran into the toilet of his room where he vomited into
the sink. Then he sank down against the tiled wall and wiped over his
face. Bloody hell.

After a minute he felt well enough to stand up, drank some water and
returned to the kitchen. Leoni was sitting at the table, smoking. She was
pale. "I'm sorry, Leoni", he said softly. "You're right, I'm drunk. Forgive
me?"

Leoni watched him silently. Her eyes were red. "I should report this, you
know", she said coolly.

"What?" Alessandro laughed. "Nobody would believe you. It's what you
wanted, right? You tell everybody we're a couple. So, who wouldn't expect a
little fucking session upon the kitchen table, eh?"

They glared at each other.

"One - zero to you", Leoni said after a while. "When you've sobered up I'll
be waiting for you in my room." She stood up and continued to stir the pot.



                 * * * * *



"Last group", said the moustached warder and counted the people. "Thirty
people, no more. In thirty minutes you have to be back down here, per
favore", he told the grumbling tourists.

Luca and Alessandro were part of the last thirty people who were allowed to
clamber up the spiral staircase of the Leaning Tower. Luca was excited. He
had never been up here before. For years the tower had been closed, but now
since the specialists had stabilized the leaning of the tower, it was open
again and he followed Alessandro's butt cheeks, moving up the stairs in
front of him. He suppressed the longing he had to bite softly into them,
and grinned instead to himself. Going into the Campanile was a very strange
experience: the angle of the 'lean' was really pronounced when they were
inside. The staircase was a rather tight corkscrew, and Luca really felt as
though the whole building could tip over as he climbed. Going up the
staircase meant that he was tilted first to one side and then to the other
as the corkscrew snaked up around the centre of the tower.

It was seven thirty in the evening, thirty minutes before closing
time. Behind him he heard people puffing and stomping up the marble
steps. Two hundred and ninety four steps wasn't exactly a short
way. Alessandro stopped briefly to marvel over the exquisite work of the
colonnades stony lace work. Contemporary architects would just work in
glass and concrete, but there was something about the decorative elements
of the Pisan Tower that remained unique. Luca stopped beside him and
touched the cool material tentatively. Alessandro smiled at him and brushed
a strand of blond hair out of his eyes. "I'm glad you're here", Alessandro
whispered.

A surge of wind blew their shirts when they stood in the open air upon the
platform they shared with the other twenty eight people. The view glided
over warm coloured houses, red roofs and ochre toned walls, over an oval
stadium, the old university buildings, the green lawn of the Piazza dei
Miracoli to the green hills of the Apuanian mountains in the distance.

"There's the sea", Alessandro stretched out his arm. "Behind the
mountains. I've booked us a holiday apartment, we'll be undisturbed." He
pulled Luca's face to his and kissed him. "You think it was worth the 15
Euro entrance fee?" he asked. Luca had complained about the expensive fee
and that Alessandro had insisted he would pay for them both. He had bought
the tickets this morning but the waiting time was unbelievablely long until
they could walk up the tower.  Luca nodded. "It's beautiful." He turned to
touch the marble stone of the building that hid the small tower bells.

"It's of Moorish influence. Look at the grey-white alternating stones. It's
like a Zebra-pattern", Alessandro said. "Like the Muezzin calling the
believers from the Minaret, the bells shall call the Christian
believers. But perhaps it was vice versa, after all, Christianity is older
than Islam. Which reminds me: Ever been to the Camposanto?"

"Only on a school trip", Luca answered. "There's holy earth from Jerusalem
scattered over the ground that the first crusaders brought with them, the
teacher told us."  Alessandro nodded. "That's true. Next time you come
we'll visit the museum where they hung up the remains of the large freschi,
the cemetery-walls were once covered with. It must have been a marvellous
sight once in the middle ages." Alessandro's eyes were veiled as they
always were when he was absorbed in his favourite metier.

Luca stood close to him and felt the heat that his body was oozing. He
would become a good guide, conveying his love for the old and historic
Art. But wasn't Art timeless? Even when those large freschi had been
destroyed in the second world war by an allied bomber, hitting the tin-roof
so that the walls were shaken and the hot tin flooded over the paint? The
remains that lay crumbled on the ground were carefully picked up and sorted
by scientists and now they can be seen in the museum. It had been a
tragedy. One of the many.

 They stood and looked. "What I wanted to ask you ...", Alessandro started
after a while, "I wondered about your remark in your last letter. You told
me that some of your classmates support you and Tristano. Why Tristano? Do
they know he's gay like you?"

"Well, they found out", Luca said cautiously, not looking at Alessandro.

"How? Did they catch you both inflagranti?"

Luca said nothing.

"Did they?" Again Alessandro took Luca's chin and turned his head towards
him. He looked him straight in the eyes. "They did, right? Where? In the
class room?" His blue eyes hid a glint of laughter, but Luca couldn't find
it funny.

"We were late one morning, and ... we came in together to the
workshop. Raniero made a stupid comment..."

"You were late one morning? After what? A hot night?" Alessandro, was
furious for a second but then got himself instantly under control.  Luca
didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. He just looked down,
embarrassed. He had been unsure whether to tell Alessandro what had
happened, and had actually decided against it. But now... he couldn't lie
to Sandro's face.

Alessandro let go of his face and leaned beside him upon the iron
fence. "When?" he asked.

"Monday night. He invited me to the flat he has moved into. I told you."

"And he cooked for you and opened a bottle of wine and told you to have sex
with him for he wanted to learn all about gay sex, right?"

"Right", Luca said stubbornly.

Alessandro couldn't hide a small grin. "Is that so?" He examined Luca
closely for a moment. "You like him, don't you."

"Sure I do. But it was just one time."

Alessandro nodded. His heart felt heavy but he couldn't turn back
time. What happened had happened, no use to make reproaches. He leaned in
and whispered into Luca's ear "Did he take you or did you take him?"

"I took him. I... I couldn't allow him to do the same ... as you..." He
leaned his chin upon his forearms and would have liked to have vanished
from the earth. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again." Then he lifted his head
and looked into Alessandro's face. "I'm really sorry. Are you mad at me?"

Alessandro looked him up, sizing and ruminative. "Of course not, gioia. I
hope you were good." A brief twinkle appeared in his eyes. "Better than I
was on our first night."

His voice sounded serious and Luca felt exceedingly relieved. He pressed
his lips upon Alessandro's and afterwards embraced him.

Some people stared at the couple; both felt it, but it wasn't important to
either of them.


*

Luca felt completely filled. Outstretched upon Alessandro's soft mattress -
a newly bought one - and lying on his stomach, he felt Alessandro's
heaviness behind him. Upon him. Relaxed he enjoyed the soft thrusts, the
steady rhythm of the beginning of their coupling, a tentative searching for
the right position, letting the other do all the work. For the moment Luca
was too overwhelmed, overwhelmed by the long missed sensations and the
understanding Alessandro had shown when he had confessed his tryst with
Tristano. Well... understanding perhaps wasn't the correct word. Sandro had
told him later, that he was disappointed, but that he was human enough to
understand. What a noble feeling. But Luca couldn't stop feeling certain
that there was something more behind Sandro's all too willing
acceptance. As if he had a bad conscience. But why would that be?

Alessandro's hands glided along Luca's outstretched arms and back, over his
shoulder blades, around his waist. Luca lifted his belly a little and
Alessandro slid down to embrace Luca's straining and wet erection. "Who's
washing the bed clothes?" Luca mumbled.

"Bed clothes?" Alessandro mumbled back. "You have odd ideas in the middle
of hot sex." He came to his knees, took Luca's legs in between his own and
made the channel very tight. He slid his cock in and then out almost
completely, varying the speed and the thrusts, until Luca purred with lust
and came up to his knees too. Alessandro reached around and grabbed hold of
Luca's cock, stroking him up and down in the same rhythm. "I'm very glad
you didn't allow Tris to fuck you", Alessandro whispered. "That's my
place." Luca grinned but was instantly washed away by too many sensations
that his moaning became louder.

"You haven't told me if he liked it", Alessandro murmured into his
ear. "Were you gentle with him? Sure you were, like with me." He now
stroked only the tip of Luca's penis, going round in circles and smearing
the fluid around it. Luca responded with more groans. "Did he say he wanted
more?" Alessandro continued, increasing his speed. "And do you?"

Luca couldn't answer and his ears weren't listening anyway. Alessandro
constantly hit the sensitive skin over his prostate and it made him wild. A
while later he found himself upon his stomach again with Alessandro laying
heavily upon him, outstretched like he was himself. Both were panting hard.

"Your place is booked", Luca said softly and heard Alessandro's chuckle.


              * * * * *

Colourful lanterns swayed in a small, cool breeze. They had been hung up
between the trees and oozed a mysterious, warm light. The meadows of the
Cascine Park - Florence's fairground - were covered with stands and grills
and tents. Tristano heard the pulsating music in the distance.

Illumination lit up the discjockey, glimmering points in yellow, red and
green. In front of him - on the grass - people moved to the rhythm of the
music. Listening from a distance, Tristano couldn't make out the songs - it
was only the pulsating beats, the basses and drums that drew him closer. He
breathed in the scent of baked potatoes, barbecued meat and vegetables, of
cotton candy and fruity ice-cream.

By the pizza-stand he saw Rosso and some of his friends, dressed up like
Tristano himself. Teenagers roamed between the stands, smearing themselves
with candy floss and glazed apples. He felt some heads turning as he passed
by; a flash of white teeth when a girl smiled at him, but then he froze. In
the middle of the lawn a group parted and a young man started to dance
alone. He made quite a show - naturally - swaying his slender hips, kicking
his feet, bending his upper body, shaking his butt.

Tristano grinned involuntarily when their eyes met briefly. The dancer's
upper body was clad in a tight-fitting, white muscle shirt with the printed
words 'Take me' and a phone number. His legs were covered with expensive
looking designer-jeans; tight, and giving his butt the kind of look that
made everyone stare at it, especially the giggling girls. Black, shiny
curls fell boldly on to his forehead.

Luca might be handsome, Rosso interesting, Alessandro an austere beauty -
but this guy here was the embodiment of the classic Italian male
beauty. Michelangelo would had chiselled him in marble, and Leonardo would
have taken him into his bed for sure. His profile was perfect, but just as
Tristano got close enough to look at him, he realised the secret of his
beauty; his face was regular, but it had the incompleteness of a work of
art. The cheekbones were high, and the mouth was a noble line with swelling
lips, the bottom lip a tad too thick. The secret lay in the
imperfection. Tristano fell for him instantly.

He wasn't alone with his adoration; Luciano, the homosexual well known in
town, sneaked around him like a snake after a rabbit.

A tap on Tristano's shoulder shook him out of his fascination. Rosso arched
his left eye brow. "I can see your bulge from ten metres away", he said
sternly. Then he broke out into a merry laughter. "I thought you were keen
on Luca", he added quietly, still grinning. Tristano literally jumped
back. "How do you know that? Have both of you talked about me?" His voice
betrayed his anger.

"Hey, it was plastered all over your face the last time we met." Rosso
turned to the little dance floor and folded his arms, looking at the dancer
in the middle of it. He couldn't deny that he was the most sexy man he had
ever seen. Giuliano appeared at his side, another girlfriend in his
arms. "How's that for a fag?" he asked. The girl giggled but nonetheless
her eyes were fastened on the moving body.

"You still don't have enough?" Rosso said sharply. "Watch your mouth,
Giuliano. You're just envious." He looked meaningfully at the
girl. Giuliano was speechless for a moment. "Are you in support of Luca?"
he asked then. "Our pal who has turned into a shit stabber? Has he turned
your head?"

Rosso's hand jerked but then he only shook his head and dragged Tristano
away with him. He bought two Rum & Cokes and stared silently into his paper
cup. The basses boomed through the night. Tristano looked alternating to
the dancing beauty and the silent Rosso who muttered "I'd never thought
that I'd have to decide between them one day, that some of my old school
friends would turn out to be complete jerks."

Tristano looked unhappy. "You don't have to speak to me", he said.

"What?" Rosso's green eyes sparkled angrily. "Why do you say that? Do you
feel that inferior? Luca told me what happened to you; well, I noticed
anyway. And believe me, I prefer your company to any of those." He nipped
his paper cup on Tristano's and emptied it. "Come on, let's find a sexy man
for you."

Tristano glanced at the dance floor and saw the black curly haired guy
surrounded by some guys that he was obviously flirting with. Rosso followed
his stare. "What's it called?" he shouted over the music. "Gay Radar?"

Tristano grinned "I guess you mean Gaydar." He shrugged. "I'm new to the
scene. But I think my radar works already." He threw a last glance at the
dancing guy and suddenly their eyes met. The lights flickered - at least
Tristano thought so for a brief moment, but then Rosso pulled him away,
laughing. He was glad that he had found another friend, since his old ones
appeared to have changed into idiots.

Rosso had just turned towards the next grill stand when Tristano said
"Wait", and stopped in his tracks. It was too late. Carolina, his
ex-girlfriend, had already seen him. She was in the middle of a group of
girls and the smile on her face died.

Tristano's stomach clenched painfully. He saw the lights upon her long,
brown hair - blue and yellow, her tanned skin stood out against her yellow,
short dress and Tristano felt a pang of regret. It was about time he made
his peace with her.

"Ciao, Tris", Carolina said coolly, eyeing Rosso, who stared back. Then he
gave Tristano a slight push and vanished between the trees. Tristano eyes
followed him thankfully. "Ciao, Caro", he said quietly. Joyful laughter
touched his ear drums as well as chattering, shouting and music. A warm
breeze whispered through the branches and the air was balmy. Carolina's
friends gave him unfriendly stares and Tristano felt embarrassed.

He took her hand determinedly and she followed. She leaned against a tree
and looked at him. "Do you regret it?" she asked. "Have you thought about
our relationship and found that you're ready to continue?" she said
hopefully. But he had to shake his head. "I'm sorry, Caro. Yes, I've found
out something." He took a deep breath. "Something that hasn't anything to
do with you."

Carolina's big, brown eyes looked expectantly.

"Well, I'm almost eighteen. And... people can change. I knew what I wanted,
but I was wrong and I've fallen in love again."

"Obviously not with me." Carolina said in a bitter voice. "Do I know her?"

Tristano grimaced. He bit his lower lip. "You know him... Luca. I like
boys, and as I've said, it has nothing to do with you."

Carolina was mute. Shocked perhaps. Then she laughed. "That's a joke", she
stated.

"I'm not joking. I said, people can change. I've found out what I really
want."

On Carolina's face were mirrored many different feelings in rapid
succession. "And what did you feel when you was in bed with me? You didn't
like it, right? I gave you everything and you ... you laughed about it."
Her eyes glistened with tears. He tried to take her into his arms but she
pushed him away. "Don't touch me." She breathed deeply in and out and
calmed herself. "Alright, Tris. You like boys, ok. You think you're gay,
all right. But what if you change your mind in a few months? How many
people are you going to hurt until then?"

"Caro, that's nonsense, and you know it. What am I supposed to do? Live
like a monk to prevent others from being hurt? Somebody'll always get
hurt."

"But you don't want me because I'm a girl! Do you know how much that
hurts?"

Tristano shook his head. "No. I don't know about that. It would probably be
worse if I'd fallen in love with another girl. But a boy? You can't compete
with that. It's not your fault. I still like you."

Carolina wiped her eyes. Perhaps she was starting to understand. When he
tried to pull her into her arms she didn't struggle. "Is he your
boyfriend?" she said into his neck. "The red haired boy?"

"No. Rosso's looking for a girlfriend." He took her shoulders, held her
away from him and looked into her sad face. He smiled. "He's nice."
Carolina gave a sobbing laugh. "Bugger."

At a different place Rosso fought a similar fight. His school friends Micky
and Giuliano continued their bickering until Rosso left them standing and
hoisted two Ramazotti's pure. The bitter-sweet taste of the herb-flavoured
liqueur lingered in his mouth but warmed his stomach. Determined to leave
the park he ran into Tristano. Still fuming he snapped at him. "Made up
with her?"

Tristano looked hurt. "Listen, I told you you don't have to bother with me,
so don't shout at me."

Rosso took a grip on himself. "Sorry. I was just ... pissed, not at you."
He took Tristano's shoulder. "I'm going to get drunk tonight."

"Ciao, bello", a deep voice murmured into Tristano's ear at that
moment. Startled he turned to the owner of the sexy voice and froze
again. It was the dancer, now looking at him with a half cheeky, half
seductive grin on his tanned face. "Do you have a light?" He shoved a
cigarette between his lips.

Rosso, hearing this, said "that's the most stupid chat up line I've ever
heard. Only straights would use that. I thought you had more imagination."

Curly raised his eyebrows. "Tell me a better one." He put his arm around
Rosso and combed his fingers through his red hair. "I'm a pyromaniac - are
you coming to put out my fire? How about that?"

Rosso screw up one of his eyes. "That wasn't bad."

Curly's eyes devoured Tristano. "Your boyfriend?" he asked. Rosso roared
with laughter. "No. I prefer the female curves if you know what I mean." He
slipped from Curly's embrace and called back as he walked away "but thanks
for the offer!".

Curly, still with arched eyebrows turned to Tristano, standing like a
statue, with his hands in his pockets, his face unreadable.

"And you?" Curly asked. "Keen on the female curves or male ... stiffness?"

Both weighed each other up with stares. The curly haired guy's anthracite
eyes radiated. His brows built a wonderful, clear, black arch over his
eyes. "Sergio", he said finally.

There's something was about him, Tristano thought. Something dark, secret,
forbidden and shady. Altogether.

"Tris", Tristano said.

Sergio made an unsuspected step forward, pulled Tristano close, by taking
hold of the neck of his shirt and rubbed his lips over
Tristano's. Electricity crackled. Tristano's hair at the nape of his neck
stood on end as well as his cock. In an instant. Sergio's tongue tasted his
lips like a flickering snake, before it entered his mouth like a conqueror.

Tristano gave a sigh and leaned into Sergio's body; his groin inflamed, his
mind heated.

"You certainly prefer male stiffness", Sergio ground out between his lips,
feeling the bulge between Tristano's legs. "To your place or mine?"

Tristano hesitated for the length of a heartbeat. "To my place.", it was
about time he substituted the memory of Luca with another.



"He's going with him", Carolina's friend said incredulously. "I don't
believe it".

"There you are, all the handsome guys are gay", another sighed. "And you
hadn't the slightest idea?"  Carolina shook his head.

"Perhaps he'll hate it". Her friend put her arm around Carolina's
shoulders. "I've heard it hurts like hell. You know ... being ... erm
...from behind ... and all."  Carolina looked at her incredulously. "I've
heard they are crazy for it."


*

As soon as the door closed behind Sergio he pushed Tristano forward into
the room and kissed him like a starving wolf. Then he let go of him and
inspected the flat. The only light came from the aquarium and the yellow
streetlamps outside. "Nice fish", he said. "You live alone here?"

Tristano stood, over heated and nodded. "Drink?" he asked.

Sergio pulled his shirt over his head. The light reflected on his skin and
Tristano wanted nothing more than to touch him. His nipples were two dark
coins, like the peaks of two mountains with a valley leading down to a six
pack. Instantly Tristano felt inferior. He couldn't compete with this
beauty. If he undressed now, he would die of embarrassment.

Sergio's eyes flamed. He hooked his thumbs beneath his belt and
grinned. "Didn't you offer me a drink?

Tristano rushed into the kitchen and found only the Est! Est!! Est!!! Luca
had brought. His heart ached. What was he doing here? Suddenly he felt a
warm breath on his neck, a forefinger draw a line from his neck down his
back along the spine. Tristano shuddered and his heartbeat quickened. With
trembling hands he tried to open the bottle. Sergio embraced him from
behind and blew into his hair. "I love blond hair" he whispered. "Come
here."

Sergio took the bottle, uncorked it and clicked his tongue. "Wow, where did
you get this year from? It's been a long time since I've had such a
marvellous wine." He filled the glasses. "Cin-cin", and let the fluid roll
over his tongue. "Superb."

Tristano was confused. Suddenly Sergio seemed similar to a high society
snob. "Drink", Sergio said. Tristano emptied his glass with his nervousness
and waited for what would happen next.

"Now, what shall we do with the rest the evening?" Sergio asked, grinning
slyly.

The wine went instantly to Tristano's head. A fruity-herb taste on his lips
he leaned in and raked his fingers through Sergio's curls, shining in the
pale light. He felt sweaty and sticky from the warm night. He ran his palms
over Sergio's upper arms and felt himself pulled to a hard chest. "I need a
shower", Tristano tried an evasive answer.

"Good idea."

Tristano went ahead into the bathroom and wondered if Sergio would follow
him. He didn't have to wait too long until the curtain was pulled aside and
Sergio stepped behind him into the shower. Tristano didn't dare open his
eyes but his skin and body responded to the man behind him; to the soapy
hands, sliding easily and firmly over his body. When he felt Sergio's cock
nestling in between the cleft of his cheeks, he felt adrenalin streaming
through his veins and his lust rising. He turned off the water and fished
for the towel, still avoiding looking at Sergio. Almost desperately he
towelled his hair and tried to smooth it; then he felt Sergio's hands
stopping him. He lifted his chin and looked examiningly into his eyes.

When Sergio smiled, dimples appeared in his cheeks and his white teeth
sparkled; his almond shaped, anthracite eyes still radiating.

"Oh god", Tristano whispered and then he devoured the red lips, the chin,
the neck, collarbone and bit into the dark coins of Sergio's nipples. He
went down on him, kneeling on the hard tiles, kneading Sergio's butt cheeks
and watched his cock hardening and rising. But before Tristano could do
what he wanted to do, Sergio pulled him up; his palm briefly touching
Tristano's hard penis, grinning cheekily before he engaged him in a wet and
passionate kiss.

"I want you", Tristano mumbled boldly, fingering Sergio's arse, searching
for the cleft. He had no idea how to do it, but his cock had taken over
control. Sergio chuckled. "Then go ahead."



Sergio's kisses sent Tristano into the orbit. He managed to block Luca and
all comparison from his mind. He knew this was pure sex. Somewhere in the
back of his brain he realized that Sergio was experienced, older and able
to press all the buttons necessary to set Tristano's body on fire. The bed
sheets were a tangle, the cover lay on the carpet and he tried to remember
what Luca had done to him as he sat upon Sergio's back, stroking the lean
muscles, the shoulders and the moist, black hair. The jar of vaseline was
still standing on his night stand.

Sergio struggled and Tristano slid from his back. "What's the matter with
you? What are you waiting for? Have you never done this before?"

Tristano shook his head timidly.

"All right." Sergio crawled out of the bed, vanished and returned with the
bottle of wine. "Drink."

"I don't need to be drunk to have sex."

Sergio held out a glass. "Apparently you do." He drank some more himself,
brought his mouth close and let the fluid drip from his mouth into
Tristano's. Tristano coughed but swallowed, then he took the glass and
emptied it himself. He felt himself pushed upon his back. Sergio's warm
mouth engulfed his now shrivelled cock and then suddenly Tristano lost all
inhibitions. He squirted into Sergio's mouth, but the relief was just
momentarily before he felt his lust rising again.

Sergio's cock, heavy and longer than his own, poked his thigh, his hip,
rubbing against his skin. As he opened an eye he saw Sergio greasing
himself and then rolling a condom over Tristano's penis. He straddled
Tristano, wriggled for the right position and let himself sink down on him.

Tristano's eyes opened wide in shock. How tight. How warm. How
slippery. Sergio's face was relaxed. His muscles rippled, his hairless
thighs rising and sinking, and Tristano gave his first loud moan. Sergio
bent forward to kiss him and then released himself.

"Get the idea?" he asked. Yes, Tristano thought. Hell, yes. He took over
control, kissed Sergio as if there was no tomorrow, and instinctively did
all the right things to surprise the experienced Sergio. He was behind him,
pushing his fingers into Sergio's greased hole, then he lined up and shoved
his cock in with one long, slow motion, making Sergio jump and a long groan
escape his mouth. "Keep going", he said through gritted teeth.

On his knees he responded to the long thrusts until they found a mutual
rhythm which wasn't easy, Tristano thought. The sensations were
overwhelming, and the only thing he could wish for would be another cock
thrusting up his own arse and he would die a happy man. He didn't want to
hurt Sergio with the beautiful body he possessed, but he couldn't hold
on. Sergio moaned and was on fire but all too soon Tristano had to give up
the fight with himself and ejaculated.

Sergio was still on his knees, jerking himself until he came too. Then
there was silence.

They both lay side by side, eyes closed. Tristano's brain kicked in after a
long time and he turned his head. Sergio's face was unmoved and he wondered
to himself if he had liked it. If perhaps he was sore. If he wanted to do
it again. Why didn't he say something?

Tristano propped up on his elbow and leaned over. Sergio's tanned body
stood out against the crumpled sheets. Perfect, hairless, in proportion;
small hips, long, muscular legs, his cock a beautiful neat snake, carefully
shaved balls and trimmed pubic hair. Tristano had always looked after his
body too, but Sergio had something unearthly. How could such a man be
interested in him?

Sergio felt the look and opened his eyes. Radiating eyes with black, thick
lashes. "You liked it?" he asked. "I'm ready for another round."

There it was again: his cheeky grin and Tristano's heart ached. Sergio's
mouth left a wet trail after he had gnawed on Tristano's nipples, washing
his belly with his tongue, at the same time rubbing Tristano's
half-sleeping member. He had a technique that made Tristano crazy and that
was far in advance of his own ability. He spread his legs wide when
Sergio's fingers searched for his hole, sighed when it was encircled, the
pressure growing then diminishing, Sergio's mouth engulfing and sucking the
head, and only the head of his cock. He sucked hard, almost painfully,
alternating with lapping the tip, gnawing at his foreskin and at the same
time a finger penetrated him, bent, found and purposefully stroked the
little knot. Tristano saw stars. "Fuck me", he panted.

Sergio was over him in a second.


*


Tristano's lids were heavy like lead. A stale taste was in his mouth. Every
limb hurt, including a sting in his arse. He jerked upright and looked at
his side. The place was empty. "Sergio?"

Silence. Tristano noticed the mess. The empty wine bottle. The open jar of
vaseline. Ripped open plastic packets and filled condoms on the floor, the
rumpled, moist sheet.

Tristano jumped out of his bed, rushed around searching his flat; Sergio
had gone without leaving a note.

-----------------------
to be continued