Date: Tue, 20 Sep 2005 09:40:25 +0200
From: A.K. <andrej@andrejkoymasky.com>
Subject: Italian Brothers 2 - Tano & Maso - 09/11 (historical)

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ITALIAN BROTHERS 2
TANO & MASO
by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2005
written September 2nd, 1993
translated by the author
English text kindly revised
by Matt & Dave

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USUAL DISCLAIMER

"ITALIAN BROTHERS 2 - TANO & MASO" is a gay story, with some parts
containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land,
religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be
better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU
don't care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be
my welcomed guest.

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CHAPTER 9. An unexpected return

Gaetano was now thirty years old. Business was flourishing; he now had
five workers in his shop and was well known, respected and esteemed in
town. He had entered the "Tailor's Guild" and soon became its secretary.
He also bought some rooms bordering the back of his shop to widen the
workshop area and was planning to change the sign of his shop, pulling
down the one saying "To the Trevi Tailor" changing it with another
saying "To Master Lugato - Tailor", but he decided not to do it for the
moment.

He had to update the shop. He whitened the walls, changed the old
shelves over from a dark old wood with new ones in cherry wood, and
bought some mannequins to show his best tailored creations. He received
regularly from Paris some beautiful colored watercolor prints showing
the latest models of the men's fashion, and he hung them nicely on the
walls.

As he made the people updating his shop to work during the night time,
he managed to keep the shop open during the day, and to have all the
works finished in just two weeks. He had only to close it for three days
but the clients could go straight to the workshop area through the
courtyard. At the end he was tired, he had paid a good amount of money,
but he was fully satisfied. The old shop owner passed by, saw the
changes and paid him his compliments. He also thanked him warmly as he
didn't change the old sign, so that Gaetano renounced to his project to
replace it. After all, he was now the "Trevi's tailor"...

He now owned also a box at the theatre, like any good middle class man.
Moreover, thanks also to his work, he was always dressed with refined
elegance. At times he thought back to the poor and rough clothes of the
first part of his life. His present good luck, he was thinking with deep
gratitude, was totally caused by Tommaso who taught him to read, write
and count, and to Felice who left him all his gold...

And June 1862 came.

Gaetano was leaning against a table in the workshop, while his five
workers were tailoring, and was reading on the "Gazzettino" the last
news about the political changes that were happening, when he heard the
little bell of the entrance door tinkling. He put down his newspaper,
looked rapidly at himself on the wall mirror to check that his
appearance was in order, and entered his shop. There was a client,
turned toward the wall, looking at the fashion prints. Seeing the man
from his back, he thought that he seemed really well shaped...

"Good morning, sir. Can I help you?" Gaetano said with his usual winning
tone.

The man turned, his face went pale and started to stammer, "But... but
you... you..."

Gaetano felt suddenly he was vacillating, his breath died, his heart
stopped. Then he heard his own voice, almost as if it was something
alien to him, almost as if it was another to talk, saying in a low but
clear murmur. "My God! Maso! It's not possible... you... you... Maso,
you are alive!"

"Tano... oh, Tano... Tano..." The man was just repeating,

They both remained still for long instants, like petrified, almost not
believing what their eyes were seeing and that the mutual recognition
was confirming. And the twelve years of their separation vanished like
for magic, and they both saw each other as an eighteen-year-old and a
nineteen-year-old, badly dressed, thin and lean, but madly in love with
each other, and full of joy to live for each other. And then they flew
one towards the other, they embraced tightly, almost with the despair of
a shipwrecked man clinging to a floating piece of wood, and they cried,
shaken by their sobs, both trembling, conscious only of the reality of
the other. No, this was not a dream!

If somebody, some passer-by, would have looked at that scene could have
thought odd to see two grown-up, elegant, distinct men standing in the
centre of the shop so tightly clinging to each other and so shaken by
deep sobs. He would have thought they were two near relatives upset for
a sudden mourning... Gaetano and Tommaso were no more conscious of the
world surrounding them, but only of each other presence, so real, so
true, so tangible, so concrete even if so unbelievable.

"You're alive! You're alive, Maso! Blessed be God, you're alive! Oh my
Maso!" one murmured.

And the other echoed, "They didn't kill you, it was not true! Tano, my
Tano! Mine, mine, mine! It was not true..."

They gradually calmed down, at least partially.

They parted almost unwillingly and Gaetano said, "You have to come to my
home, you have to tell me everything... wait, I must just warn Renzo,
then we can go."

"Sure," the other assented, "sure thing, my Tano!"

He went to the back room, told he had to leave for all the day because
of a sudden emergency, and entrusted his shop to his chief-worker.

The man asked him, worriedly, "Some problem, master Lugato? You have a
face... as if you saw a ghost! Are you all right, master?"

"What? Uh, yes, yes, I'm all right. But I have to leave, now. Please
take care of everything, and also to open the shop tomorrow morning." He
said and went hurriedly back to the shop, took Tommaso's hand whispering
him, "Come..." and they both flew to Gaetano's home.

When they were there, as soon as the door was closed, they were again
one in the arms of the other in a silent, tight embrace, almost as to
ascertain that the other was not just a vision, that he was real, in the
flesh.

"Oh Maso! My Maso... come, let's go in the other room. You have to tell
me everything... everything..."

They sat on the sofa, squeezed against each other, almost as if they
feared that someone or something could part them once more. Tommaso
noticed the little ring on his friend's finger.

"You still wear our ring... I do too, look here."

"But tell me, do you live here in Rome, now?"

"Yes, behind the Serristori barracks."

"For how long have you lived there?"

"One year."

"And I live here for two years! And we never met, never saw each other!"

"Today we did..."

"Thanking God! But now tell me everything about you, about these twelve
years. Since I saw you falling in the Tevere River, I thought you
drowned..."

"Yes, I fell and the last thing I remember about that moment is you
shouting and a bandit was at your back and was coming on you... During
the fall I think I hit my head but the splash in the water gave me back
my conscience. The river's strong current swept me away. I was making
desperate attempts to remain afloat, but it was a struggle that seemed
useless and only a feeling of urgency to come back to you who where in
danger gave me a desperate strength to resist. Then I remember that, I
don't know how long later, I managed to cling to some branches grazing
the water and my crazy run stopped. With my last strength I managed to
gradually reach the bank, to climb it and to be back on the dry land.
And then I collapsed and lost consciousness. I think I recovered my
senses the day after, because it was early morning. I was still
drenched, covered with bruises, scratched, and battered. I saw I was on
the point where the Tevere opens into Lake Corbara. I wandered a while
in the scrub and amongst the bushes looking for a road. When I found it,
I walked on it downward. I was aching, weak, soaked and upset. I walked
for hours, I think, until I reached the village of Corbara. Here a
generous soul felt sympathy for me and helped me. I told him what
happened and said I wanted to go back to look for you.

"Sonny or the bandits killed him and then is useless to go back there,
you cannot do anything for him, or he escaped, and in this case he will
no more be there. But here nobody has passed."

He took care of me, made me rest and nourished me for three days. He
also offered me a job - he was the village's baker and needed some help.
He would teach me to make bread... But I could not remain there, I had
to look for you, I had to know about you. I therefore thought that the
best thing to do was to go back to Civitanova - if you escaped I would
for sure find you there... or at least I could have your news there.
When I told him what I wanted to do, the baker at first tried to
dissuade me. Then he suggested me to wait for a caravan going there, to
have a safer journey. But I didn't want to wait any longer I had already
lost too much time.

Therefore, after that his wife mended my clothes, he gave me a little
blanket for the night, some food, a small flask of wine and we said
farewell. I went up the mountain taking the way back. I walked for days.
At times I could walk a stretch of road with some other passer-by, but I
was mainly a loner. My food ended so I started to beg for it or stole
some fruits in the fields until I reached Colfiorito. Here I had to stop
as I was taken by a bad fever and my legs didn't support me any more. I
again had good luck, as Colfiorito's parish priest hosted me and healed
me, and was moved by my story.

As soon as I healed, the priest told me that a man of that village had
to cross the mountains to go to Muccia, a village in the Marca, so that
he could guide me through the lanes where I could get lost. So I resumed
my journey. Then from Muccia the road is practically all going down so
it was easy to reach Civitanova after some more days of walking.

I ran to the store. And there my uncle, who was already back, told me
that you had been killed by the bandits. I felt such a shock that I lost
my senses and they had to put me in my bed with a raging fever, for
several days.

When I was healed, my uncle told me with a severe face that I had talked
in my delirium so he understood the kind of "filthy" relationship that
tied me to you and that, therefore, he could no longer allow me to sleep
under his roof. He was so generous to give me a change of clothes, some
coins, and put me on the street ordering me to disappear from Civitanova
and from his life, forever.

I didn't care any more about staying I didn't care about anything, at
that point, believing that you were dead. So I went up along the coast
towards Ancona, thinking to look for any job that would allow me to
survive. I reached the Port of Recanati I stopped in the pine wood to
take a bath in the sea. Leaving my few belongings on the shore, I
plunged in the water and took a long swim. But when I went back to the
shore, all my belongings had disappeared, clothes and money, stolen by
somebody. So I found myself there, naked like a worm, not knowing what
to do. I heard somebody arriving so, being ashamed to be seen in that
state, I hid behind a bush that was nearby.

I saw a big boy, about sixteen-year-old, arriving alone. He was well
dressed. He looked around, thought to be alone, so he undressed
completely and went to swim. At this point I had the thought I could
take profit of that occasion and steal in my turn his clothes. So I ran
where he left them and started to hurriedly wear them, sure that the boy
was far away, swimming in the sea. But he, I don't know if he just saw
me or he just wanted to take a plunge and not to swim, ran towards me
shouting. I tried to escape but his breeches that I had just halfway up
my legs, hindered me and I fell. He was on me immediately. We engaged a
battle. Even if he was younger than me, he had a body big like mine,
moreover I was tired, ill nourished, sad heartened while he was strong,
solid and furious with me, so soon he had the upper hand.

When he held me fast and still, panting asked me, piercing me with a
furious gaze, why I was stealing his clothes. I told him why. He was
still over me, naked while I was under him, still half naked. And we
both realized that we were both aroused, possibly because of the hand to
hand struggle. The boy, listening to my story, seemed to soften.

"Well, all right, I will not take you to the guards. On the contrary,
I'll help you to find some clothes... I like you, thief."

"I never stole... before, I swear..." I protested.

The boy, remaining sitting over me, did something that I couldn't
imagine - he brushed my nipples, caressed my chest, my sides. I quivered
under him.

"What's your name?" the boy asked me continuing to tease and caress me.


"Maso... and you?"

"Carlo. I like your body. Somewhat thin but... well shaped. I like it
here too." He said placing his hand on my hard tool and groping it. I
shuddered and closed my eyes, blushing. "You like it, don't you?" he
asked continuing to finger me there. I nodded in assent. "I too like
touching you. Do you like it too, go on?"

Somewhat as I was, we can say, his "prisoner", somewhat because I was
anyway aroused, and somewhat because I thought he was beautiful, I too
touched him. Carlo slipped away from over me, on my side, and kissed me
in my mouth. We started making love. I think I needed that, I needed a
body but more than that some warmth, tenderness... so afterwards I felt
better. That first time we came just so, brushing each against the
other, mutually touching and caressing.

Then Carlo told me to wait for him there. Took his clothes, wore them
and ran away. I waited for him a couple of hours.

He came back with a bundle. "Here, these are my clothes, as we have more
or less the same size. Take, wear them."

I thanked him and dressed. They were good clothes and I felt a strange
effect feeling them on my body. It was agreeable they gave me the
feeling of a caress.

"And now, what do you think to do?" he asked me there in the pine wood
when I was again clothed.

"I don't know I've no idea. I've no home, no money, no food... I'm
alone."

Carlo seemed to evaluate me, and then said, "Listen, I thought to that
while I was going and coming back. You... what we did before... is it
your first time?"

"No, not at all."

"And you like it, right?"

"I do, sure."

"But the other times... always with boys or men?"

"Yes, with boys..."

"The same here is true for me. But it is not so easy to find a friend
here. At times I can do it with a passing sailor, you know, but most of
times I am just alone. Would you like to be my friend, to remain with
me? I like you..."

"Why not? I too like you. But... how?"

"My uncle is a cabinet maker in Recanati, up there in the hills, where I
too live. My family is here at the port just for one week, a little
more. I think he could take you as a shop boy giving you the means to
live. So we could see each other and spend some time together. Are you
game?"

"Why not, sure!"

"Come, then. I'll first introduce you to my father and my mother then,
with them, we will see if Uncle Francesco will take you in his shop."

"But... what will you tell to your family? What will they say seeing I'm
wearing your clothes?"

"I'll just tell them the truth - you were robbed and I helped you. Well,
only this part of the truth, of course, not what we did..." he said with
a giggle.

So I lived in Recanati, for three years. I worked in the shop and became
the intimate friend of Carlo. Well, you know, I thought you had been
killed..."

Gaetano smiled and nodded, "Go on..." he said tenderly.

"Carlo and I weren't really lovers, just two friends who loved being
together, who loved making love together. But we were well that way. I
found a small room without windows in the hall of a building and at
evening Carlo was often coming to see me. We closed the door, undressed
and lay down on my mattress and spent a good time together. Even though
he was younger than me, possibly thank to his experiences with sailors,
I don't know, but he was really good in making love. Then he fell in
love with the youngest son of Marchioness Passeri, a
twenty-two-years-old man, and became his lover. Therefore he didn't come
any more to make love with me. I then felt I had no more reason to
remain in that small town where I had no friends. I was not unhappy
working for Master Francesco, he was a good man and treated me well. I
was also learning a new job. But the idea to leave was growing in me.

The occasion came on the day of Saint Vito's Fair, the Recanati saint
patron. I was looking at the balloon game from the ramparts of the old
city walls, when I noticed near me a man, not yet in his thirties. He
was dressed in a curious way, somewhat showy, original. He was a
handsome man, with a merry face and an open smile. He was following the
game with passion, yelling from time to time in his excitement.

When he noticed I was looking at him, he smiled, winked at me and said:
"I would never get tired to look at them playing: what men! Strong,
handsome, in the spring of their youth! Is that not a real sight?"

I noticed he had a foreign accent. We chatted for a while and I came to
understand he was coming from the Two Sicilies Kingdom. He was a
wandering tumbler and was touring from fair to fair. He showed me a
small book he had in his pocket, where were printed all the dates and
places of the fairs, an almanac I mean, and showed me his program.

We chatted some more, then he wanted to offer me some wine and we went
to sit in a tavern. Then he invited me to go and see his "home". It was
a cart covered by a tent, pulled by a mule that he parked near Saint
Francis church, outside the town walls. When inside his cart, he showed
me some of his trophies and souvenirs. I asked him about his job and he
told me.

Then he said: "You know I'm also a contortionist." And showed me some
incredible poses: he seemed made of rubber. I laughed aloud and made the
gesture to applaud at him. Then he sat down, smiling.

"Are you easily scandalized?" he asked me with a malicious wink.

"No..." I answered, without knowing the reason of that question.

"No, eh? Then I'll show you a special exercise I never showed to
anyone... look..." and there, in his small cart, under my unbelieving
eyes, he bent, bent on himself, his body took the shape of a ring, only
his shoulders still on the floor. Then he rummaged in his breeches,
opened them, pulled out his long and hard tool, pointed it to his mouth,
bent some more until more than one third of it was inside his mouth...
end started to suck himself!

I was looking at him totally bewildered, my eyes wide open. The man
sucked himself for a good while then assumed again his normal position,
sitting in front of me, his legs wide spread, his breeches open, his
tool exposed, glistening with saliva, hard and pulsating.

"Did you see?" he asked, triumphant.

"Yes... unbelievable!" I said, still amazed, and instinctively stretched
out may hand and touched his tool. He smiled and let me touch it.

"How does it feel doing it by oneself?" I asked.

"Well... good. But doing it each to other is a lot better, don't you
think?"

I nodded yes and without the need of more words, bent on his lap and
continued what he started. He then rummaged in my breeches, opened them,
pulled out mine and gave me the same good service.

At the end, after we both drank from each other the warm seed, he sat up
again and said: "Yeah, a lot better with each other. But... my name is
Enzo. Yours?"

"Maso."

"Maso, wouldn't you like coming away with me?"

I accepted at once. Went to say good bye to master Francesco, to Carlo,
took my few belongings, went back to Enzo's cart and we left the town.
Enzo taught me some ability games (not only the erotic ones, where he
was anyway skilled) and I started to perform with him from fair to fair,
from town to village. And we made love every night. Enzo was not a
romantic guy like you or me. To him, making love was more an instinct to
appease, like eating. But he did it in a very pleasant way. We remained
together for four years, always without problems. That roving life had
its hardship, but also its fascination.

We were in Florence. After our show one of the audiences came to talk
with us. He praised us for our skill, mainly Enzo, asked us from where
we were, if we were relatives... and he offered us a supper at the
nearby inn. We never refused such offers. During the meal the man
excused himself and went to the toilet.

Then Enzo told me: "Did you notice how he was looking at you? He is
dying to make love with you. He is a handsome man, rich, kind..."

"Come on!" I said, having noticed nothing.

"I know such things at first sight, and never am wrong, as I understood
about you that day. There is a certain way of looking, a certain special
light in the eyes. That man desires you, listen to me. But do you like
him?"

"Well, yes, he is really a handsome man, but..."

"And wouldn't you make love with him?"

"I really would, but... No problems with you?"

"Why? We are two free birds, you and I. When he is back, I'll go to the
toilet, so I'll leave you two alone. Play your cards; Maso, let him
understand you are game. A lost occasion never comes a second time,
remember that!"

And so it happened. The man came back and Enzo let us alone. I then
showed to be very interested to him and he was game and from word to
word, from smile to smile, we played our cards.

"And you never married?"

"Yes, when I was twenty years old I did that mistake, but I left her
just a few months after and was again free... like the air."

"Why, did she cheat on you?"

"No, I just understood that performing my husband's duties with her was
more and heavier for me. I understood that, in reality, it would be
hard, for me, with any woman, not just her..."

"Really! I too, in fact, am absolutely not interested in women... I can
understand you..."

He then stopped playing with words, put his hand on mine and said: "On
the contrary you attract me so very much. Just being near you makes me
totally aflame."

"The same for me..."

"Tell me, the juggler is your lover?"

"No, we are just friends."

"Therefore... you can come to my place, tonight..."

"If you desire... it would be a real pleasure."

"So, after the supper, we said good bye to Enzo and I followed that man
to his home. I was excited. Really just being near him put me aflame, he
was so sexy... Oh, Tano, I have not really to say such things to you...
forgive me!"

"Don't worry. You believed I was dead, I understand very well. I too, as
I'll tell you later... But go on, now, please." told him Gaetano,
tenderly caressing him.

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CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 10

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In my home page I've put some more of my stories. If someone wants to
read them, the URL is
http://andrejkoymasky.com
If you want to send me feed-back, or desire to help revising my English
translations, so that I can put on-line more of my  stories in English
please e-mail at
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