Date: Sat, 06 Jan 2007 22:57:25 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Mystery and Mayhem at St Mark's:   22

		      Mystery and Mayhem At St Mark's

				    by

				   Joel

             Some of the Characters Appearing or Mentioned:
Mark Henry Foster  The story-teller:  Pennefather Organ Scholar
Tristan (Tris) Price-Williams  His well-proportioned boyfriend
Francis [Toad] Foster   Mark's sexually rampant younger brother
Ivo Richie Carr   Mark's cousin:  chunky and cheeky with it
Adam Benjamin Carr    Ditto, as his twin
Oliver Jensen   A Musical undergraduate with allure
Edward Jensen  Oliver's younger brother with extra allure
Angus (Zack) McKenzie  Fiona's younger brother, a young man with panache
Brandon McKenzie Her even younger brother who can overdo things
Guido Faldi   A very hairy Italian medical student
Ernesto di Cremona  Guido's boyfriend
Pietro Faldi  Guido's cousin and another overdoer
Francesco Matteoli  Designer and uncle of Mark and Francis
Count Aldo Leopardi  Companion of Uncle Francesco

          22.       Summer   2002

The seven of us met up at Heathrow for the flight to Italy.  I think
Brandon was a bit apprehensive about meeting Pietro in particular, but
Frankie and Eddie had him sitting between them on the plane and Frankie
reassured him he would be OK.  Oliver and Zack amused everyone, acting as
being so excited as if they were a couple of five-year-olds.  "When will we
get there?"  "How much longer?"  Oliver and I had gone for a quick pee at
the airport as neither of us were devotees of aircraft toilets.  We were
alone standing side by side and he was so ecstatic.  "Zack's everything I
could wish for," he said almost missing the urinal bowl as he looked at me,
"I can only hope it will last.  This holiday away will be the test.  We
managed things OK down in Dorset but we couldn't be too open."

     There were two cars waiting for us when we arrived.  Aldo was there
and had dressed up with chauffeur's hat and grey jacket and was holding a
notice 'Villa Matteoli'.  He winked at Tris and me and we played up to it.
I nudged Frankie just as he was going to open his big mouth and he cottoned
on, too.  Tris and Frankie went with Oliver and Zack in the other car
without them knowing who the greeter was, and I went with the other two in
the car driven by Aldo.  I thanked 'the driver' profusely as we got out and
he hammed it up with a vile English accent, 'Sankyu, zir, Sankyu milor'',
as I handed him a two euro coin.

     Uncle Francesco was waiting for us as we arrived, then Aldo appeared
in shorts and top and only Eddie looked a bit mystified and then realised
who 'the driver' had been and dug me in the ribs after I had hugged Aldo.
"You want to ask him for your money back the way he nearly went over that
red light," he said, and Aldo pressed the coin in his hand as they shook
hands and he bussed him on his cheeks.

     The Italian lads were lined up as well and Pietro took one look at
Brandon and hugged him and tried to say a welcome in reasonable English.  I
gave Nesto the usual European greeting of double kisses.  He looked at me
coyly with the stocky figure of Guido next to him.  "I'm glad you made a
decision," I said and hugged him as well.
  I hugged Guido and said he was a lucky lad.  His English was now good
enough for him to understand, and say 'I am'.

     After being sorted out in our rooms we all assembled on the terrace in
shorts, tee- shirts and sandals or trainers ready for sunshine and food.
Food was as usual plentiful and I saw Toad in earnest conversation with Unc
who was grinning hugely.  Tris and Guido took the others round the huge
garden as I sat with Nesto.  He said he was so happy doing his course at
the University and he could meet Guido who was at the Medical faculty now
in his second year.  He said Grandma Matteoli wanted to see us - she was
his great-aunt - and she and his grandmother had quarrelled as usual.
"Like two cats," he said laughing.

     Brandon and Pietro disappeared off as soon as the latish supper was
over that night.  The rest of us sat with Unc and Aldo and sipped glasses
of champagne as he said he'd had the best year as far as the business was
concerned.  He'd hired a yacht and we would be taken out for a three day
trip up the coast.  All were agog at this, as he said he would make sailors
of us before we went home.  Bed then, and the most satisfactory loving
session with my Tris.  It was a warm balmy night and we sat by the window
after undressing and just hugged and kissed and felt each other until we
could last no longer and Tris loved me fully that first night.

     It was funny the next morning because Tris, I, Frankie and Nesto
stripped off completely, after our first swim in the morning, and lay nude,
smothered in sun-oil, on the beds on the roof terrace.  Oliver and Zack
took the initiative and after anointing each other liberally with Factor
whatever they looked at each other and slipped off their swimsuits as well.
Frankie leaned over from giving Eddie the same treatment and pulled his
baggy swim- shorts down. Yes, Eddie was built like his brother and I
wondered if he might just out-strip Frankie in size as both were well-hung
lads.  Guido seemed hesitant but Nesto beckoned him over and he was soon
lying down, exposing, not only the hairy chest we'd admired the year
before, but a short, plump length which poked out from the hairiest bush
I'd ever seen.  The tops of his thighs were thickly forested as well and,
if I was Marcus Tarantula, he was Guido the Italian hairy-legged spider.

     That left the two younger lads who watched surreptitiously as we older
ones bared all.  I saw Brandon nod at Pietro and the final two showed their
equipment - admittedly not as developed as all the older ones, but they had
the beauty of youth as well, and by the end of the day were perfectly at
ease, even when big-cocked Oliver picked up a squealing Pietro, who
immediately sprouted a sturdy near five inch erection, and threatened to
throw him in the pool if he whistled some pop-song again.  When released he
scampered to his sun-bed and lay face down and was whispered to by Brandon
who seemed not to worry as his erection waxed and waned all day.

     Aldo came out a couple of times from his office and openly laughed at
the hectares of flesh which were on full view.  Tris leapt up once and
chased him threatening to strip him as well. "I am a poor old man," he
called out as he shut the roof door in Tris's face.

     There was one strict rule.  Full nudity was only allowed on the upper
terrace.  Swim- trunks for anyone venturing into the pool, or added shorts
when walking the grounds.  "Mustn't get the ladies excited," Aldo had said
at breakfast the first morning.  As the ladies, and Signora Faldi, all
looked elderly to us we wondered what the excitement might entail.  Oh, and
there was a new pool-boy who seemed so shy against the ebullient Guido.  He
came the second day in rather ragged shorts.  I saw Frankie get up, slip
his own shorts on and disappear indoors.  A few minutes later a less shy
lad was wearing a Matteoli creation.  Immaculate board-shorts with the
prominent logo.  Frankie also learned from him how to keep the pool clean
when he wasn't there.

     I had a long chat with Aldo who wanted to know all about Charles.  He
was so taken with his son and his fanciful ways and said he'd arranged the
best hotel for him in Venice at Christmas, but was wary of trying to get
too close.  I said Charles was such a good friend and had a very strong
personality under all the show, but I expected he felt rather the same.
Meeting a father after twenty years of knowing nothing was certainly
difficult.  Perhaps he should come to Cambridge a bit more regularly.  He
said that was a good idea.  He needed to come to England more often as the
expansion in business was just about to occur and he needed lots of legal
and financial advice.  I gave him Jacob van Zyl's name and address and
telephone number saying he'd mentioned he'd seen reports of a possible
expansion.

     He wanted to know about the other lads.  He was very taken with Oliver
as he had learned quite a bit of Italian when his father was stationed in
Rome with the British Council and his brother was 'molto bello'.  I knew
Aldo had a thing about blond males as he'd eyed Tris many times.  I hoped
not speculatively.  He thought Zack was so English, a real gentleman.  I
asked about Nesto and Guido.  He smiled.  "That Guido, he makes bulls-eyes,
is that right, all the time at Nesto."  I said he meant 'cow's-eyes'.  He
laughed.  "He is not too much like a bull, but Nesto is more than happy.  I
think they are so well-matched.  Nesto is the boss, though he is younger,
but he does not get all his own way I am glad to say."  We thought Pietro
and Brandon were getting on well.  Brandon had brought several games for
the pair to try on their game-boys and even with little of shared language
they were together all the time, except when one or the other was hounding
Frankie to show them short-cuts or special moves.

     Of course, there was even more excitement when Ivo and Adam arrived on
Sunday.  Pietro was thrown in the pool, followed by Brandon, Eddie and
Frankie in sequence, cheered on by a retreating Oliver and Zack who managed
to elude a pincer movement by the two brothers who now had me and Tris as
adversaries and threatened dire and vile reprisals as we managed to tip
them in the deep end.  As they emerged, to the hoots of the rest, it even
brought Signora Faldi out to investigate in case her son, Guido, was
causing mayhem.  Two dripping lads rushed at the Signora, smothered her in
kisses and hugs while she tried to bat them away, laughing her head off,
with the large wooden spoon she was carrying.  Luckily the pair had their
swimsuits on but caused enough excitement anyway and squawked loudly as
they got walloped to the cheers of everyone else.

     Oliver and Zack came in for quite a bit of ribbing as 'Romeo and
Julian', and the tale of Frankie's participation in the Boudicca production
and his Christmas appearance as a young stallion - little pony was their
view - had to be told again and again with the photos of both
'performances' displayed in the breakfast room much to the Signora's
amusement again.  Aldo rather neglected his work and spent a good deal of
time each day chatting and laughing with everyone.  Although he appeared in
tailored shorts he resolutely refused to strip off completely.

     It was on the Thursday of that week at breakfast when Frankie nodded
to Tris and me and obviously wanted a quiet word.  "We think Brandon and
Pietro are overdoing it a bit," he said when we sat at the end of the table
with him and Eddie.  I looked around, neither had appeared for breakfast
yet which was unusual.  "They're only playing games on those things," said
Tris, "Probably been playing all night."  He got a real Toad withering
look.  "I don't mean that sort of overdoing it.  You are thick!"

     Eddie also looked rather solemn.  "We think they are over-indulging in
mutual pleasures," he said, "You know what I mean."

     "What's happening?" I asked.  I assumed they were just wanking
together.  Two fifteen-year-olds in the same bed at night would soon come
to an arrangement about not taking any notice while the youthful juices
were conjured up.

     "From what Brandon said yesterday he was too tired even to swim and
they both kept their shorts on all the time," said Francis in concerned
mode.  "We think they're sore...."  He saw my look.  "....at the front.
Pietro kept adjusting himself and winced a bit I noticed."

     As I, Tris and the Thugs had spent most of the previous afternoon
looking for suitable knick-knacks for presents in the main street near the
Cathedral we had been absent when any adjusting was overseen.  I had
noticed that the pair had gone off to their bedroom as soon as supper was
finished each evening.  I said this and the pair nodded.  I said I would
talk to Nesto and Zack if we had anymore worries about them.  I couldn't
explain in Italian to Guido, Pietro's cousin, that the lad was probably
rubbing himself raw.

     We had more or less finished our breakfast when two bleary-eyed boys
came in.  Through half open eyes they chose their croissants, bread and
other things and Brandon nearly spilled the orange juice he carried to the
table for them both.  I nodded at Frankie.

     "How's that Kung Fu game going?" he asked, "What's your scores.  You
look as if you've been up all night playing."

     Poor Pietro burst into tears.  He must have got some of the English.
Perhaps 'all night playing'.  He started to say something in Italian and
Brandon put his arm round him.  Whether he understood it I don't know.

     Nesto had moved up the table.  "He says he's sore," he said,
translating.

     "So am I," said Brandon rather defiantly, "We were only seeing...."

     He realised that ten pairs of eyes were on him.

     "You were only seeing what?" his brother Zack demanded.

     "They were only seeing how many times they could...." began Ivo,
slowly.

     He was interrupted by Guido who got up quickly and knelt by his cousin
and started asking questions in rapid Italian.  Pietro put his arms round
his neck and whispered something back.  In the conversation I heard
variations on the phrase 'farsi una sega' several times and knew that meant
'a wank'.

     Brandon took his arm away from Pietro's shoulder and stood up straight
and stiffly.  "We got fed up playing the game so Sunday night we decided to
see how many times we could..." his defiance deserted him.  It was
Frankie's turn to get up and put his arm round someone, this time, Brandon.

     "...You decided to do what most boys have done.  To see how many times
you both could come in a day.  I've done it, I don't mind saying, and my
friend Jack has as well.  It's nothing to worry about, or be ashamed about.
It's what all boys do!"  It was his turn to look defiant.  I thought, 'Good
lad!'.

     "We only did it at night," said Brandon.  "We both did six times
Sunday night and Monday but Tuesday it was five and last night it was only
four 'cause we were both too sore."

     All us older ones just looked at each other and chests heaved with
silent laughter.  No one laughed out loud.  It was much too serious a boys'
thing for that.  Johannes Knottus' total in just four nights.  It looked as
if an attempt for the Guinness Book of Records might be in progress as
well.

     "Brandon," breathed his brother very quietly, "Six times between when
you went to bed and when you got up?"

     His brother nodded, "But we did get to sleep about four o'clock.  We
didn't sleep last night, though 'cause it took too long and Petey couldn't
get me going for ages."

     "You did it each time to each other?" his brother asked.

     Brandon nodded.  "Only fair, and it's nicer."

     True it was nicer. I couldn't count the number of times Tris and I had
helped each other to three orgasmic outflows when we were fifteen or so,
four more rarely, now generally two in the passionate love-making when once
in bed, and the methods of achieving those were varied.  But then, there
was my heroic solo effort when Tris was away with his family when I was
just sixteen, and I managed seven times in just under twenty-four hours.
Even he said he'd never beaten that.

     Guido was saying something to Pietro who began to look a bit happier.
Nesto said "He's telling him all boys do it but it is too much those times
every day."

     That lightened things definitely.  Trust Adam to ask the obvious.
"Now for the record books - twenty-four hours, highest score?  Mine to
start the ball rolling.  Six and proud of it!"

     We all looked at Ivo who curled his lip at his brother.  "I'm an
unbeaten six, too!"

     Oliver was next.  "Five!"

     Zack smiled, "Five!"

     Eddie and Frankie chorused from opposite ends of the table
simultaneously, "Six!"

     Tris said "Six!" and gave Frankie a thumb's up sign.

     I said "Seven" rather quietly and got the most pronounced Toad sneer
of a lifetime and a sotto voce "Fucking hell!"

     Ernesto was watching each as they gave their score.  He nodded and
said in English "Five!".

     All eyes were on Guido now as he knelt by his cousin who was listening
with open mouth.  Guido's tanned face turned darker.  He was blushing.  He
held up both hands and displayed ten digits.  "Dieci!" he said, then said
something in Italian to Nesto.  We waited.  All wondering at this wanking
prodigy.

     Nesto smiled.  "He says it is Pietro's brother's fault.  He went
camping with him and it rained and they had nothing else to do.  He said
they had to stay another day because he couldn't walk and Alfredo did nine
and had no skin for four centimetres as it was rubbed away.  He has the
scar now."

     Everyone was laughing and chattering then.  Frankie gave Pietro a hug
then came over to me.  He looked at Tris.  "Trust him to beat everyone
except those Italian sex-hounds."  He turned to me.  "That means I've got
to waste another day."  He shook his head.  "Even I don't think I can
manage eight!"

     Tris put his arm round him.  "I'll tell you what.  We tie you down and
take it in turns.  On the hour, every hour.  I'd love to see you squirm
after eight and Marky starts you for number nine.  Better do it here.
We'll get the Thugs to help.  Adam hasn't forgiven you yet about that
smaller banana."

     A squashed Toad.  A look of abject horror passed over his face.  Eddie
overheard the exchange.  "It's OK Frankie, I'll defend you, only 'cause
you're so good at it...."  He realised cats were out of bags and another
boy blushed.  I sneered as best I could at Frankie and Tris thumped him on
his back.  Of course, for the next week and a bit, until the Thugs went
home he was politeness himself to them, even when they invariably asked him
if his score was improving as he seemed rather tired in the mornings.

     Zack and Guido had taken the pair off to their bedroom for inspection
for damage.  Nothing startling was reported.  Both had a small raw patch
which was anointed with Vaseline or something soothing and they were told
to moderate things.  Sanity must have prevailed because they were soon back
to their first-in-for-breakfast routine and Pietro was back to exhibiting
the sweetest brown-tanned butt imaginable to the delight of all us
connoisseurs.

     We set sail, or rather motor, on Sunday.  I expected something like a
glorified rowboat with sails, not the ninety foot monster with four young
sailors, with cook plus galley-boy, manning the vessel.  It was utter
luxury.  Tris and I shared a state-room with the Thugs.  We four shared the
huge double-bed and shared our love for each other as well.  Ivo said any
port in a storm before Tris and I silenced him with a full-frontal attack
on his muscly body.  Adam said he was missing Whippet and would miss him
even more when he was on his lonely own in America.  We were all very
serious as Ivo told him he was not to do anything there which might
endanger their relationship and definitely nothing which would put him at
risk.  "Just see if you can beat wank-happy here's record single-handed,
and I mean single-handed!"  I think Adam had enough loving in those three
days to last him until he saw Whippet again.

     Everyone thoroughly enjoyed the trip.  On the last day, as we
reluctantly returned to our home port, Pietro and Brandon were elected
Captain and First Mate and were presented with tubes of antiseptic ointment
for good seamanship by Frankie and Zack, who had found them in the medicine
cabinet of the cabin they shared with Oliver and Eddie.
  Brandon was now used to the provocative remarks which their appearance,
all bright-eyed now, at breakfast produced.  "If anyone needs this," he
said without a flicker, "Pietro and I will be happy to apply it to the
afflicted parts.  You may line up outside our room at ten o'clock tonight."

     Needless to say, two boys wrestling with intractable problems on their
game-boys, were disturbed by a knock on their door at the appointed hour,
and ten lined up lads asked for assistance with their hurts.  The first
three, Adam, Frankie and Guido, all had partly peeled bananas poking out of
the fly of their shorts.  Brandon took one look, grabbed Adam's extension,
gave a good imitation of a Toad sneer and shut the door hurriedly.  Oliver
dropped to his knees in front of Guido and bit off the two inches of peeled
banana on view to howls of laughter, and on getting up said he'd be round
for the rest later.  We went back to the main room giggling, ready to
tackle another two or three bottles of the fine white wine so generously
provided by a laughing Unc and his companion who seemed continually amused
at our antics.

     Frankie and Unc, with Aldo in attendance spent one morning going over
a sheaf of suggestions which Frankie had conjured up about new and
different products for trendy European teens.  Frankie had already told me
he had been reading the business pages of the Times each day to see what
was happening in the clothing world and was advising Unc not to go in for
trainers as the market seemed dominated already by a couple of big
companies.  Unc cornered me after the conference and was full of praise.
"That boy has ideas and do you know what else he has done?"  I didn't know,
but it turned out that Frankie and Jack had gone to as many of the stores
and shops selling adolescent wares in our area and along Oxford Street in
Central London, asking if they had Matteoli brand stuff and waving the
catwalk photos and cut out articles from the magazines and papers.

     As they did this separately and on several occasions, approaching
different sales assistants who were told to take notes and give them to
their manager, they had made contact with about thirty outlets all told.
Aldo immediately asked for addresses which an astute Jack had listed and
Aldo set their sales team on sending catalogues to the shops.
  He also got in touch with Jacob who was happy to advise and suggested a
finance house with a branch in Cambridge who could assist.  Aldo flew off
to London the next day with one of the sales staff who could speak good
English, and Toad had a self-satisfied look on his face for the rest of the
time.  Good for him, I thought.  Enterprise.

     The holiday was beginning to wind down as the younger lads would have
to return to England for school.  First, though, was the horror for three
of them as the day approached when their GCSE results would be announced.
Tris had the good idea of who would phone home first by making Zack, Eddie
and Francis draw numbers from a hat.  They drew them in that order and Zack
was first to phone.  His mother had the results all ready opened and he was
soon smiling as all ten had been passed with distinction throughout.  Toad
was almost jumping up and down with frustration as Eddie's Gran insisted on
asking how he and Oliver and that lovely boy Zack were, and were they
liking Italy, and were they behaving themselves?  It was all 'Yes, Gran,',
'Yes, Gran,' until at last he asked what his results were.  She must have
passed him over to his Grandfather as things got more succinct.  "Thanks,
lovely, see you soon," and a great smile and sigh of relief.  He was OK,
too.  Sixth Form loomed.

     Frankie, of course, in his haste mis-dialled.  "Stupid boy!" said
Eddie, "Leave off the zero, I told you!"  A vicious sneer.  Then a look of
triumph as Mum read out his results.  "Oh, ta.  See you next week!"  He
swung round and hugged Eddie and, for a macho-lad, gave him a smacking
great kiss full on the lips.  "Thanks, you've been brill.  I was worried."
He looked at me and grinned.  "Better than you, matey.  I did Music and IT.
Eleven!"  Champagne before ten o'clock in the morning wasn't bad!

     I found that my usually so-confident brother had been really worried
about what his results might be and stalwart, no-nonsense, Eddie had been a
real support.  I realised that, like me, there was an underlying sense of
not being quite on top of things.  I knew that from my initial qualms about
Maths and I knew I was overcoming that to a greater extent.  I knew I had
to be a support too to my brother - not little now, as over the last couple
of months he had grown within a half inch or so of my six foot one.  I had
hugged him to me when he'd announced his results and he'd responded with
the most loving hug back.  I whispered, "You're the tops!" and he'd
whispered back "And so are you!".

     Mum and Dad came out at the beginning of the week the younger lot with
Ivo and Adam were scheduled to go home.  We saw little of the pair of them
as they spent most of the time sorting Grandma out.  Francis and I had been
to see her a couple of times during the stay and she, although glad to see
her immense grandsons, as she said, spent most of the time telling us of
the iniquities of her neighbours and her sister, Nesto's Gran, in
particular.  I went with Mum one day when Dad had gone with the boys on the
usual boat trip round the bay.  Mum really lost her temper and I remained
in the background when the flow of Italian started.  I deciphered some but
I guessed most was in the Palermo version of Italian and when Mum had
finished Gran looked suitably chastened.  I was actually hugged so hard
when we said goodbye I had sore ribs where she'd gripped me.  "I don't know
what I would do without my Angel..."  She always shortened Mum's name to
that.  "...I am a silly old woman who knows no better.  And you are such
lovely boys and must come to see me, please.  Tell my Francesco I love him
and I want to see dear Aldo's son."  I wondered what Charles would make of
the stately Italian whirl-wind with the Bronx accent.

     True to form, she gave me two ten-euro notes, one each for Frankie and
myself.  Mum was laughing as the car arrived to take us back to the Villa.
"I wonder how long that will last," she said, "I expect Francesco will be
on the phone next week asking me to sort out the next crisis.  And don't
spend all that money at once!"  Stingy wasn't in it!

     Mum and Dad left with the Thugs, escorting Eddie, Brandon and a
protesting Frankie.  He was miffed as there had been a mix-up with the
plane bookings and Oliver and Zack were staying for another three days.  I
held him while Tris smacked his bare backside when he started his moans in
our room the night before departure and he'd come to see if we had any
goodbye presents for him.  His saggy board-shorts came down, to the giggles
of Brandon and Eddie who had followed him in, especially as he was going
commando and everything flopped out on view.  He wasn't too concerned.
"You two can't get enough of my backside...." he began, then realised the
misinterpretations which could ensue, "..Why do I always get beaten? Come
on Eddie, let's give these two the works."  But Eddie was laughing too much
and Brandon wasn't joining in either, so Frankie got an extra smack, then
all three were given those trashiest souvenirs we had found on one of our
visits to a shop by the Cathedral.

     That night and the next two nights, Zack and Oliver followed us into
our bedroom and the most intense love-making of my experience so far
between four lads took place.  Those times with my cousins were seminal in
my sexual history for their passion and sensuality.  Now, over three
nights, four young men shared themselves with each other so completely and
with such intensity of feeling, new, unbreakable bonds were forged, which
we all knew would stand the test of time.  Yes, at seventeen, Zack was the
youngest, but, on that first night I found him to be the tenderest and most
ardent lover, reminding me so much of my Tris it was uncanny.  As we held
each other he told me how much those simpler encounters with Tris and me
had given him the release and freedom he needed to come to terms with his
sexuality.  He said he treasured every moment of those times and these had
been the basis of his love for Oliver.  He wanted Oliver, he needed Oliver
and he knew in his heart Oliver felt the same for him.  "Everyone says I'm
older than my years.
  Oliver may be more than two years older than me but we really feel equal.
I hope I can give him the love and affection he's missed in those two years
and what he gives me now.  Tonight, I want to share all that love and
affection with you and Tris fully.  You showed me the way to begin and I
want you to love me as completely as I love Oliver."

     Our hands had explored each other's bodies and as he turned on his
back I laid on top of him.  He pulled me tightly to him and our tongues
duelled as our lips brushed against each other.  He lifted his legs and I
reached down and found him.  He was moist.  He had already prepared
himself.  A finger entered easily.  I leaned back and looked at him.  He
smiled and another finger entered and I felt as far as I could.  The smile
remained.  I had to withdraw a little and he looked and waited as I pressed
my third finger as well.  "Please," he whispered and from the murmurs on
the bed beside us we knew another pair were preparing for the same
engagement.  My fully rigid tool was ready and as I withdrew my fingers I
pressed it into its waiting home.  Slowly I urged my length forward and
there was no resistance, just a complete acceptance.  I was fully in.

     "I want to feel you all.  Fuck me slowly, just slowly," he said in a
low voice already showing he was undergoing the most intense feelings.  I
did asI was bid.  I kept up as slow and steady a rhythm as I could.  He
responded with those wonderful spasms of internal and external muscles
which could only serve to intensify my own enjoyment.  I collapsed over him
as I came in massive jolts and tears of joy flowed and dripped on him.  It
was almost a replay of the first time I had entered Tris and a replay of
the many times I had entered him since.  My Tris, my Zack, almost one.
"Stay," he whispered and kept me fully hard with more slow contractions of
those muscles.  My second explosion caused me to gasp.  The release,
physical and emotional was immeasurable.  As I withdrew I realised he had
also come.  Once or twice, I didn't know.  I brushed my fingers through the
sticky fluid and with feathered kisses shared his wonderful boycream.

     The other pair had also consummated completely their love for each
other.  Oliver moved his head towards Zack and they kissed.  I leaned
towards Tris and we exchanged our love for each other by nuzzling each
other's necks, a sign we always used as a readiness to begin our
love-making.  I withdrew from Zack.  He whispered, "I still feel full.  It
must be what you've left in me."  I knew that feeling as each time Tris
withdrew that mighty weapon of his I felt so filled with the memory of him,
caused, I assumed, by that stretching which must take place.  "Remember me,
just like that," I said and kissed his now quite bristly cheek.

     We lay and stroked each other in that post-coital drowsiness.  Later,
more awake, we exchanged partners and as I, now on my back and gazing into
those lovely blue eyes, hooded by eyelids as he was far gone in sexual
want, was prepared and entered by Oliver the beautiful.  Both Tris and I
had lusted over that young god.  We had watched while he, with us, had
fired those youthful loads and had only just restrained ourselves from
taking him to bed as we stripped for our shower beforehand.  Now tonight,
those fantasies became reality.  Tris had filled him with his love and now
it was my turn to be filled and loved by him.  In the first moments I
couldn't get enough of his body, nor he, mine.  We felt each other,
tenderly gripping those muscles and the thin layers of flesh on our jointly
slim upper bodies.  We turned head to tail and lapped and sucked thighs,
knees, buttocks, balls, navels, nipples, anything that came in reach of our
wanton and probing tongues.  We righted ourselves and he began that
exploration of me, my legs over his shoulders, which culminated in the full
insertion of that sexual engine of his which matched in size, power and
intensity of purpose that of my beloved Tris.

     He fucked me as I had fucked his partner, slowly but with power and
strength.  Zack could not have chosen anyone better to love and from this
powerful young man would receive the love he so richly deserved.  A match
made in Heaven kept recurring to me as I became lost in the reveries
associated with the ardent loving of his partner and now mine for the
moment.  My hips were bucking as I gushed.  Even for the third orgasm of
the night I felt the drops rain on my chest as I was folded over with him
so deep in me.  He called out as he came and we lay completely exhausted
and replete.  "Oh, Mark," he whispered as the gasps reduced, "You have been
my idol ever since we met.  Tomorrow I want you."

     I whispered he'd also been my heart's desire and he said, with a
little chuckle, that Tris had said the same, but truly, young Frankie had
been right.  Any sign of either of us giving up the other and he would have
been there, pronto.  He got a little slap on his backside for that and we
giggled together and shared our joy with the other two whose second
coupling of the night had also ended.  There was much stroking and feeling
of each other before we took our own partners in our arms and slept.

     Nothing was said in the morning.  There was nothing to say.  We had
shared each other and there was more to come.  Much more to come.  We lay
content, taking pleasure in the last few days we had of bright Italian sun,
with them joking that I was so tanned, I would have a hard time getting
through immigration.  The others, fair haired, were just a delectable
golden brown.  We laughed, there were no tan lines on any of us.

     We watched the interplay between the other couple, Guido and Nesto.
They were even darker than me having had the benefit of more earlier sun.
The solicitousness of Guido towards his partner was most touching.  Nesto,
with such goodness of heart, did not take it for granted and we could see
he reciprocated that loveliness with his own tender responses.  We also
watched young Pietro, cock now healed but in frequent sole use by it's
owner, according to a laughing Nesto.  He busied himself around the garden
taking on the role played in the past by Guido and Nesto.  He was an
industrious young lad and also helped the pool-boy, now much less shy and
fascinated by the sight of nude lads laughing and joking as they lay in the
sun, or shade when too hot.

     That next night the interactions were completed between the four of
us.
  Zack was as considerate a giver as he was as responsive as a receiver.
As last night with him, he came twice in me, accompanied each time at the
final thrusts with little gasps of sheer exhilaration.  We lay and cuddled
and whispered all sorts of secret things until it was my turn to share my
love with Oliver.  Again the rapport between us was as I experienced with
Tris.  I said this as we lay afterwards in that shared euphoria.  Tris said
he felt the same and felt he had been almost revitalised in love and
affection by all that had happened.  Oliver said he had felt somewhat sad
seeing us so happy and together during the first part of the year and rued
that there had been wasted years for him for love and affection, but Zack
in such a short time had made up for any feelings like that.

     On the night before our flight back we still shared the bed in our
room but partner was with partner and being just together, the four of us,
I think, heightened the love-making between us.  We heard each other making
love in their own way and if an orgasmic climax was imminent in one pair it
seemed to spur the arrival of that moment in the other.

     At breakfast the next morning our young Italian friends were almost
despondent at our imminent departure.  We assured them we would be back and
if they wanted to experience a cold and wet England - the typical Italian
misconception - they should visit us.  We then reviewed the holiday and we
were amazed.  Over all those weeks, with twelve lads at times in residence,
there had never been any moments of dissension, no quarrels, no outbursts
of temper, no sulks - just good-natured, wonderful enjoyment and we were
eternally grateful to Unc and his partner for providing us with these
wonderful surroundings and the care and attention lavished on us.  We just
hoped we hadn't been a burden or a nuisance.  Aldo came in just as we were
saying this and said that he and Francesco had remarked on the same lines
about the rapport between us all from oldest to youngest and had insisted
that they looked on all of us as their sons and they had the greatest
pleasure in sharing their own good fortune with us.

     Just before we left to go to the airport Aldo had a hurried conference
with Tris.  We had about a week before term started.  Would he work with
Jacob in helping to set up the liaison between the Italian and the English
strands of the enterprise.  In England they were also launching a separate
company and logo - Leopardi.  Tris accepted with alacrity.  The hands-on
experience with the law involved would be of immense value.

     Uncle Francesco, as usual, was more than generous and a sheaf of
cheques in envelopes for distribution to all the lads was handed to Tris.
I didn't enquire what others received but I gasped when I saw the amount
entered on mine.  I tried to thank him.  He just laughed.  "There's me and
Aldo.  He's got a son.  You and Francis and your Tris are the nearest thing
I have to the next generation.  So accept and use wisely."


To be Continued: