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Becoming a Philosopher 6
The news from Sweden was that Sven was making good progress in Karlstad and that he would soon return home. He was more positive, and the psychiatrist was happy with progress. I had not heard directly from him and was keen to speak to him.
I was in the middle of my final Philosophy I course at the time, which was an introduction to ethics, and was probably the most popular course, as many students from other disciplines joined as part of their course requirements.
An advert for a person to share an apartment caught my eye as I walked past the department noticeboard. It somehow felt like a Wonka Golden Ticket. I tore off the bottom tag with the name Carlo and a number on it. Was this the same Carlo that Matt and I had met on a scout camp in the Drakensberg years ago?
I met with Carlo at the Student Union and immediately saw that this was not the Drakensberg Carlo. There were similarities between them: they were both Italian, had long brown hair, and brown eyes and their fathers worked for the Italian Consulate. I found out that Carlo Rossi had met the other Carlo a while back and that his family had since returned to Italy.
Carlo spoke good English with a strong Italian accent; he was in his second year of architecture and was returning to Italy for Christmas. Carlo and I connected immediately, and he offered me an incredible deal. The Italian government paid the rent, and I would merely need to cover the utilities of the apartment. We shook on it, and I bought him a cup of coffee and I agreed to move in January when he returned.
I dreamt of the Drakensberg Carlo in December. The first dream was so vivid. I had made my bed between Matt and Carlo and then we stripped naked and spent a few moments admiring the qualities of each other's erect cocks in the dim light. Carlo's dick was certainly the biggest and he kissed me and Matt and told us how he had looked forward to some fun. Carlo had fooled around in Italy with guys but hadn't done anything in South Africa yet. He went down and sucked my cock first and then switched to Matt. He was good at it and knew how to do it well, but I did have to get him to be a bit quieter.
I couldn't wait to get his fat bulbous head into my mouth. He tasted good and was oozing loads of precum. Matt had my cock in his mouth, and I was so worked up I could have shot then. Carlo was a good kisser, and he took turns to kiss Matt and me. Carlo organised us into a daisy chain and we all sucked each other happily `til we came. Carlo shot off a huge load and I swallowed it. It tasted slightly different from Matt's maybe just a little sweeter, but most of all I enjoyed feeling his cock against my back as I fell asleep.
On Christmas Eve I had another dream of Carlo, Matt and I in the Drakensberg. After a tough day filled with activities, we were back in the tent. Outside the cicada beetles hummed away under the starlight canopy. We were all in our birthday suits and Carlo wanted us to try the poppers that he brought with him. Matt and I were a little nervous, but we were keen to try. My body became more sensitive to touch and I was very aware of the now and my hearing even seemed sharper. Matt giggled as Carlo rubbed his bare chest and stomach, and I covered his mouth to keep him quiet. Carlo moved down my body kissing and licking parts that had never been explored before.
Carlo worked his fingers into my hole, and it felt marvellous, while Matt sucked my nipples. It was not long before Carlo inserted his dick into my hole. He pressed his pre-cum-lubricated cock into me. I felt my muscles relax as he entered me, and he began to push back and forth. Matt waited a few moments and then he guided his fat spongy and bulbous head towards Carlos' waiting hole. Once inside, Matt gave Carlo time to adjust before continuing. When Matt was comfortably embedded in him, we moved together. Slowly at first, we were all making satisfying quiet noises of pleasure and pain before we shot our loads.
Carlo Rossi called me from Verona on Christmas day to wish me Happy Christmas and he told me that he was looking forward to sharing the apartment with me and that he hoped that we could do some hiking around Cape Town. I called Sven who had been discharged and was at home with his family. He sounded happy and told me that he was taking a break from studying for a while, the weather in Sweden was dismal, and wished he was back in South Africa.
I picked up Carlo at the airport and drove him to the apartment, which was close to the university in an old building. The rooms were huge, and Carlo showed me the room I would have. It had a wonderful view towards Stellenbosch, and I immediately knew that it would be a great space to live in. Carlo gave me a key and told me a bit about the neighbours. He had already stripped down to his boxers to keep cool in the unbearable heatwave Cape Town was going through. I got a chance to look at his well-developed body. His tousled, chestnut-brown hair framed his face adorned with warm, expressive hazel eyes that reflected both curiosity and a zest for life. Carlo's olive-toned skin carried the sun-kissed glow of his Mediterranean heritage, radiating vitality.
Carlo's movements were graceful, hinting at a natural athleticism, and he had a presence that drew people towards him.
I moved my stuff in the next day. There was a bookshelf and a single bed in the room already, and I brought a table, a desk lamp, bedding, towels, and a comfortable chair. I had to share a single bathroom across the hallway that Carlo kept very clean. The kitchen was well-equipped and even had a dishwasher.
We soon found our rhythm in the apartment, and we took turns making supper. We didn't have many spoken rules, but we kept the bathroom and kitchen clean and respected each other's space. Once a week we went on a long walk on a beach or on a trail together where we would catch up and speak about world affairs. I was attracted to Carlo, but with Matt's death and Sven's breakdown, I kept things cool. Carlo had spoken about a girlfriend he had in Italy, so I wasn't exactly sure if he was bi or gay, but I did get a sense that he liked me. Now and then he would put his hand on my shoulder or touch my hand and he once touched my thigh.
I may have studied the stoics but wasn't one of them. Sex was, in Stoic philosophy indifferent; however, according to Seneca, sex was a locus particularly susceptible to passional corruption. We had learned that Seneca displayed the same traditional prejudices against sex workers and their procurers found among Zeno and Chrysippus. I was a twenty-year-old, and I had intense feelings for my roommate. I would fantasise about being with Carlo when I masturbated in the shower, and some nights I would lie awake fondling my dick thinking of him.
One evening Carlo and I walked among the mix of modern and historic buildings on campus, which reflected the university's rich history. We spoke about the privilege of being on such a beautiful campus with its well-equipped classrooms, laboratories, and libraries. We loved the community at UCT which was known for its cultural diversity, every day we met students from different backgrounds and nationalities, and we felt proud that the university was committed to social justice. We stopped at the top of the campus (located on the slopes of Table Mountain) and enjoyed the stunning views of the city and the surrounding landscape.
Things changed one night. We had enjoyed an evening at the Wine Society where one of the local wine estates had brought a range of their new wines to taste. We were fortunate that the young winemaker accompanied the tasting team to his old university. Carlo commented:
"Isn't he simply stunning, I wouldn't mind going home with him tonight."
He was gorgeous and incredibly charismatic, and Carlo made sure he got to introduce himself and told Wynand about his relative's wine farm back in Italy. I had never noticed Carlo flirt before, but he went a little overboard. After a couple of glasses of wine, Carlo and I walked back to our apartment. We were both a little under the weather, but that didn't stop me from being on edge when we passed near the place where Matt was stabbed to death. I was glad to get home in one piece.
We chilled in the lounge for a while and Carlo took out a bottle of limoncello which he had brought back from Italy. We sat together drinking on the couch and I could see the tent in his pants, I was hard too, and I felt a kind of energy between us, maybe a bit more of the Wonka magic. After three months of restraint, I leaned over and kissed Carlo and tasted the stickiness left by the limoncello. Carlo moved closer wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. I ran my hands over his muscular chest. We stripped, and I finally got a close-up view of his dick. He was hard, not too long but he had good girth. I couldn't restrain myself any longer and took his sweaty dick into my mouth. He tasted good and I eagerly moved up and down his shaft playing with his head and foreskin. He pushed me off and began to suck me. His mouth was warm, and he was an expert. I soon stopped him, as I didn't want to cum too quickly.
Carlo took me by the hand, and we went to shower together, kissing and wanking and sucking. I don't think that shower had ever experienced so much sensuality before. Carlo and I swallowed each other's cum, and I think we both knew that things would be different in our relationship from then on.
The next day Carlo got a call from Wynand, the young winemaker, inviting us to his cellar on the weekend and we were quite excited about going. It was overcast when we left, and I wondered what Carlo's expectations were. He had flirted so much with him at the tasting. As we left the city, a drizzle began to fall incessantly. The vineyards looked greener against the dark sky. Wynand came out to welcome us when arrived and ushered us into his home where his wife had made fresh scones. Carlo found it hard to hide his disappointment when he met Marisa, and his expectations changed.
It was fantastic to see the cellars where Wynand worked and to be given a tour of his lab. We were fortunate to have met such a talented person and to gain insight into this highly scientific world. Once the rain had stopped, the grapes were looking good, especially with the water droplets on them, it wasn't much longer until harvest. Carlo and Wynand walked ahead and I stayed back to take some photos. I noticed Wynand put his hand on Carlo's arse when they went around another row of vines. I also saw Carlo hold his hand for a second when he thought he was out of sight.
So many thoughts were going through my mind. The invite to visit the farm happened quickly, and it seemed that Wynand couldn't keep his eyes off Carlo. The signals in the vineyard were obvious to me. I was pleased that I had kept a distance and hadn't become too involved with Carlo.
Wynand asked us to stay for dinner and I joined Marisa in the kitchen, and we prepared a green salad and a potato salad. Wynand and Carlo made a fire outside for the barbecue and spiced some steaks. I heard Wynand and Carlo talking about Italy and the opportunities there for winemaking. The dinner was delicious, and Wyand's Shiraz went down well.
I wasn't jealous, as I wasn't committed to Carlo, but I was concerned that Wynand had only recently gotten married and could foresee the possibility of things becoming complicated. Marisa was a lovely person and had moved from her criminology job in Pretoria, and she was still finding her feet in the Western Cape, she told me that Wynand and her were thinking of starting a family.
Carlo was quiet in the car as we made our way back to the city. I told him how much I had enjoyed the afternoon and how great it was to get first-hand insight into winemaking I wanted to confront Carlo about Wynand, but I didn't know how to do it. I thought of saying something like: "Did you know that Wynand and Marisa were talking about starting a family?" But I didn't. When we arrived home, I said goodnight to Carlo, and I went straight to my room to change.
There was a knock at my door. I was reading my obligatory novel and Carlo came in and sat on my bed.
"I like Wynand, there is a vibe between us. When we were next to the barbeque at sunset, he kissed me.'
I couldn't keep quiet and had to say something. I didn't want to sound like a prude or too moralistic.
"Open your eyes, Carlo. This can become very complicated and messy. Wynand and Maris are newly married and are talking about starting a family. Do you want to come between all of that? Besides you don't even know him, you've only met him twice. My friend Matt had such good ways of putting things, he would say: `When the little head gets hard, the big head gets soft.' I suggest you take a step back and think about things."
Carlo wanted to get into bed with me and I said to him: "Not tonight."