ITALIAN BROTHERS 3 ENRICO PICCIN by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2005 written on February 2, 1996 translated by the author English text kindly revised by Dave
USUAL DISCLAIMER
"ITALIAN BROTHERS 3 - ENRICO PICCIN" 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.
CHAPTER 1 . A secret manuscript
Edgardo Piccin was proud - his first-born was a son. He christened him Enrico like his father, Francesco like the emperor and Gualtiero like his father in law. Enrico Francesco Gualtiero Piccin: it had a nice sound, when all put together.
For his christening he threw a big party at Piccin Mansion, as he called the villa when he bought it from the last surviving lady of the Shwatzke marquises. It was a nice Palladio's lodge, even though somebody said it was the work of one of Palladio's pupils. But Mister Piccin, who was a notary, was sure it was really by Palladio himself, even though there was no sure proof. Anyway there were neither sure proofs it was not his work. And the "hand" of the great architect, in his opinion, was evident!
He had not such luck with his other children - his spouse gave birth, in order, to Margherita, Leonardo, Sofia, Gerolamo, and Chiara. But Leonardo died while he saw the light of day, and Gerolamo when he was two years old, so that Enrico remained the only son, and the heir, the one to carry on the family name. Therefore, notary Piccin lavished all his cares, all his attentions on him.
Enrico grew sound and strong, merry and living, intelligent and clever, in short the son that any father could dream of. Edgardo made him study at home, under the cares of the best teachers and pedagogues. The child was the center around which all the family life was gravitating.
When he was ten years old, each Sunday, after the Mass and before lunch, his father took him to go for a ride. More than the rides, more than the precious time that his father was spending with him, to Enrico these tours on horseback were big, caused new enthusiasm, as at least he could go out of the protective shell of the family mansion where he always lived, and so he could see the "outside world".
One of the first things he noticed was that not everybody seemed to live without problems as he was - passing through a village, for the first time, he saw wretched people, wearing shreds, having sad eyes. He asked his father who they were.
"They are countrymen, my son."
"And why are they so... so... so badly dressed?"
"They are humble men who live in the country, of course."
"Countrymen have to dress so badly?"
"No. They are poor, as they have too many children and too little money."
"And why are they so poor?"
"Because they are not able to do their best, Enrico, and because they have not enough cleverness. The ones who are able to do their best and who are clever don't remain in the fields, the go in town to build their fortunes. But above all they have too many children, a lot more than they can support."
"So, then, we are lucky they are so poor, else wise nobody would work to make our food, aren't we?" the child said.
The man didn't know what to answer.
But then, Enrico noticed that many, mainly amongst the children and the boys, had lively eyes, all but not intelligent, and perceived that something in his father's explanation didn't tally. He couldn't dare to contradict his father; therefore he kept that problem inside himself. But the image of those lively eyes, of those clever looks, accompanied him for a long time.
Once again he saw some children, in another place - this time they were sloshing in the Brenta River, totally naked, yelling and spraying water to each other, merrily.
"Why are they bathing with no clothes on them?" he asked to his father - when he took a bath, was that in the house tub or when he was in the holiday resort with his mother, he had always to wear his cloth breeches.
"Don't look at them, Enrico. They are uncouth. They grew freely like little savages. They are just country people!" his father answered brusquely, his voice full of contempt.
Enrico confusedly thought that it had to be great being little savages - the children seemed to enjoy themselves very much... but he didn't dare to say that to his father.
Soon the little Enrico noticed that his father's explanations, his way to see life's things was not always logical; moreover it was different from that of his teachers. Or, to put it better, he understood that each grown up man had his own vision about things. Therefore he asked himself which one could be right. One side he had difficulties to believe that it was not his father's one to be right, but on the other side, also the opinions of his teachers didn't seem wrong...
For a long time he cultivated inside himself this dilemma. And he started to collect, inside himself, all the contradicting explanations he was hearing. This above all appeared in history that he really loved. The history teacher, being a specialist, had to be well informed. And then, his interpretations of facts didn't coincide with those of other adults, or at least not totally.
And one day he found a partial answer to this problem.
His art teacher, said: "You see, Enrico, the real value of an artist resides in the fact that he is able to see reality under different lights, and not just under one light. People, who more who less, has a unilateral vision of the reality they observe - let's take something simple like... an apple, for instance. Somebody, seeing an apple simply thinks it is a sweet fruit. Some other thinks it is a sphere, and others enjoy only its color, and so on. Very few people really see an apple for all it is or, better yet, all it could be. Man is short sighted. In fact an apple is not only edible, spherical, green yellow or red, a fruit, a nice object. An apple is also Adam and Eve, is the apple of discord, is William Tell, is Newton, and is it a projectile, a world, a universe..."
"That's the point!" Enrico, now an adolescent told himself, the problem is all in that. Each thing, each fact can be seen in a thousand ways but a lot of people grasp only one of its aspects and they swear that all is in what they see. His father, his teachers, who more and who less, are all short sighted. And he decided one thing, "I don't want to be short sighted!"
Therefore he started to revise, little by little, all the convictions that had been instilled inside him. It was not a simple nor easy work to do, but Enrico devoted himself to it diligently. This caused in him a visible change - he became more silent, thoughtful. His mother noticed this and was worried, but his father said there was absolutely nothing to worry about; Enrico was simply becoming an adult. In his way, he was right. Another change, was less visible but deeper - at that point Enrico didn't take anything for granted. And one day he said, "That's it! Before any conviction one has always to add just a word - possibly!"
But when he started to use this word, he noticed that then, the adults were extremely vexed, to the point to border on panic. As when he said to the parish priest that of course he believed that "possibly" God existed, or when his mother almost had a fit of nerves when he told her that he "possibly" loved her. Therefore gradually Enrico understood that it was better to use this word with extreme thriftiness when talking with other people. He had to keep it to himself.
Physically, Enrico was quite handsome - he was slender but strong, tall for his years; he had a nice mop of dark-blond hair, softly waved, and green-blue eyes which, in special conditions of light, seemed to shine with thousands of gold slivers. His nose was straight, the lips soft and sensual but not too fleshy nor too thin and he had a healthy and enviable set of teeth. The boy cared very much for his looks - he was taught to care for them and he was keen about doing that. Perhaps with a hint of narcissism, he liked himself. And he liked also looking at well built people. More at men than at women, as he could compare to men, not to women. Women were way too different, and not only for their body full of roundness and curves, but also for their face, their hands, everything. No, they really didn't have nice bodies, the women. Not to mention about their way of behaving, acting, reasoning, and talking.
He recognized himself in his own gender, of course, and admired it. When he saw an elder well built man, he hoped to grow up in the same way. Yes, he admired males. By the way, the main art works, the most beautiful and famous, represented above all the male nudes; it was said, because in the female nude there is not the same beauty.
The nude, who knows why it was considered unbecoming, and yet, even the Christ on the cross was represented almost totally nude. In the art works, one could look and admire, for instance the "Dying Gaul" in all his nakedness, with all details fully visible, but not a real naked man... Enrico thought this was "incongruous" (he just learned this new word, and found it the most apt).
He was fourteen years old when something peculiar and important happened to Enrico. Or, to say it better, it was two different facts.
The first one happened during that summer. He was on holidays with his family, guests of the Riese family, in their villa in Zugliano, not far from the Astico River.
He spent his time playing, making conversation, reading, riding or making picnics on the lawn. The knight Riese was a physician, and was a former school mate of his father in high school and they remained good friends afterwards. The knight had a wide library and often Enrico, while the others were taking their afternoon nap, went there to thumb through the books. In the main part they were medicine books, but there were also art, history, travel books and a good selection of classical and contemporary literature, both Italian and foreigner.
Hoping to find an interesting book, a manuscript leather-bound like a book, came to his hands, the title was "Normal and Secret Impulses" and the title was written in an elegant script with violet ink. He skimmed through it heedlessly, thinking it wasn't interesting nor for its title neither for its aspect. But at a point he noticed that some parts were written with a different color ink and, more than that, in letters he never saw before. He looked more carefully - it wasn't Greek, nor Hebraic nor Arabic, as he was studying the first and saw the letters of the others two on some books. And it was neither Cyrillic, as it was similar to Greek.
But why was that book written in two kinds of letters and two different colors of ink? Possibly the key was in its title - normal impulses, written in normal letters, and secret impulses written with secret letters? It had to be so. This made him curious. Yes it had to be a secret writing.
He went to sit near a window with that manuscript on his legs and asked himself which could be the key of that secret writing, and what there was of so much secret in those secret impulses. He skimmed through the "normal impulses" - hunger, thirst, sleep and so forth. He noticed that each chapter started with the words "The impulse of hunger..." etc, or "The impulse of thirst..." and so forth. Therefore, he thought, also the encoded chapters had to start with the words "The impulse of..." He verified - three symbols, then seven, then two... and the last symbol of the two first groups was the same, therefore an "e"...
He went to take some paper and a pencil and started to write it down - well, if he wasn't wrong, he had four vowels "e-i-o-u" and seven consonants "f-h-l-m-p-s-t". Not very much, but better than nothing. He searched the coded titles until he found one who read "the impulse of se-" a three letter word starting with "se"... could it be "sex"? Yes, it was considered a secret impulse... And his way to interpret that code was right...
He tried to read: "-ll the m-^ ha¡e" could be "all the men have" so now he had also the "a", the "n", and the "v"...
He plunged with enthusiasm to decode that strange writing and in a short time he could find almost all the letters of the alphabet. He was just interrupted by the voice of his mother calling him. He put the manuscript back to its place and in his pocket the paper with the part of the alphabet he had already decoded, intending to be back and to continue the day after.
Two days later he was able to read all the coded pages. And amongst other things, he read something that puzzled him. It said more or less as follows:
"Since the times of the remotest antiquity, amongst the sexual impulses it is well known the one that is known by the clergy as the sin of Sodom and that the men of science prefer to call, with a neologism, homosexuality, or sexuality amongst peers, or person of the same gender..." After a disquisition about the terms, the text started to list and to explain "the most widespread kind of sexual activities between persons of the same sex".
"The masturbation, from Latin, 'manus turbare' or to upset with the hand, also incorrectly called onanism from the biblical character of Onan, consists in reaching the sexual pleasure and orgasm, by oneself or mutually, handling the penis until reaching the ejaculation of the semen. This practice knows several different forms..."
Enrico was reading engrossed.
"The 'coitus per os', proceeded by the fellatio, where one of the two partners gives sexual pleasure to the other using his lips and his tongue, with the 'immissio penis in orem', often accompanied by the swallowing of the semen poured at the moment of orgasm..."
"The 'reciprocal fellatio', where two males give each other simultaneously the pleasure with their mouths..."
"The 'coitus interfemuralis', widely practiced in ancient Greece between an adult and an adolescent and deemed to be a normal practice, almost a needed initiation rite to sexuality, and often replaced by the 'coitus analis (quo ultra vides)'..."
"The 'coitus analis' or properly sodomy, with 'immissio penis in anum' that can occur in various ways and positions, the most common called by the common people the 'dog way', that is to mount each other like quadrupeds do, where the receptive male..."
And so on with abundance of detailed descriptions and explanations. Enrico was eagerly reading all these pages revealing him something he totally ignored to exist. It was a minute description, almost pedantic, where the mechanics of the various kinds of the sexual pleasure that two men could give each other were described. Without any comments or ethic evaluation.
Enrico devoted several days to that reading, and at the end he got the impression that they were things "widely practiced from antiquity to our days" but to keep carefully secret.
When he started to read others of those "secret impulses", he found them much less interesting, often eccentric, therefore he stopped reading that manuscript and went on to read a travel book.
But what he read remained well impressed in his memory and often he thought about it. And one night he thought to try to practice the "masturbation by oneself" and found it was very, very agreeable. And the wet dreams stopped, and Enrico understood the reason for that - the masturbation was a voluntary discharge while the wet dream was involuntary. And masturbation was a lot more pleasurable.
The second fact that happened is related to the first one and happened a few days after his discovery of the secret manuscript. It is not possible to imagine what could have happened if the two facts happened in reverse order.
He was riding with the others along the river Astico and in an open order, at times to trot, sometimes at pace, they were going up the river. They stopped for a snack on the grass. Later, while the girls were playing badminton and adults were chatting, the boys decided to take again their horses and go further upstream.
Knight Riese yelled to his sons: "Don't go too far and be back before dark!"
"Sure, dad!" the elder answered and they spurred their horses.
Enrico was having contrasting feelings towards the three Riese sons. The one of his own age, Donaldo, was an insipid boy, sometimes awkward, not so much interesting, who always wanted to have a say on everything, often not to the point. Carlo-Luigi, seventeen years old, was an agreeable companion, meaty, witty, somewhat a reckless fellow, clever, a joker. Pity was that he had horse-like teeth that gave him an aspect halfway between a clown and a pretended nave. The elder, Baldovino, eighteen years old, had an elegant, agreeable, athletic aspect - it would have been a pleasure looking at him, and it was a pleasure, but it was spoiled by his haughty and quite arrogant personality.
Enrico was riding immersed in these thought, when he realized that Donaldo was no more with them.
So he yelled to the others: "Hey, do you know where Donaldo is?"
The other two boys who were before stopped and turned: "No. He was behind us it is you who could have seen him." Baldovino answered.
"No a while before he was there... and now he is no more there..." Enrico said doubtful, as he felt some reproach in Baldovino's voice.
"Go and search for him!" Baldovino ordered to his brother.
"We can try to call him..." Enrico suggested. But Carlo-Luigi went, spurring his horse and, anyway, calling his brother's name.
"It will be better if we to go to search for him. You go along the river-bed, upstream, and I'll go downstream." Baldovino said and before Enrico could say a word, he left, but without calling.
Enrico steered his horse and, going along the river bed, he started to ride upstream. He asked himself if it was better to call the boy or not, but he already could hear no more Carlo-Luigi calls, vanished amongst the trees, and thought it was an useless waste of energy...
He rode for several minutes, thinking he was doing something totally useless - the territory was wide and they three alone could possibly not explore all of it. Moreover Donaldo, awkward as he was, was able to take care of himself, he was no more a child and not a handicapped boy. His horse stopped to drink. Enrico didn't spur his horse.
He rather thought it was good if he also went down to drink some water. He tied his horse to a tree and went upstream. He bent in the water and with his hands as a cup he took some of the crystal-clear water of the small river. He drank. Then he stood up and looked around asking himself what he had to do. Possibly the best thing to do was to go back to the villa. Possibly Donaldo was just bored and he just decided to go back home. But if he went back too soon, and if the boy was not at the villa, they could accuse him to have not done enough to find him.
The best thing was to lose some time there, then to go back. He left his horse tied to the tree and went up for some meters, jumping from stone to stone, singing very softly. Amongst the branches of the scrub he saw the ruins of a chapel. He decided to go to explore it. He passed round a thick of thorns, climbed the slope and rapidly reached the small apse - it had to be a very ancient building, possibly two centuries old, he thought.
He walked round the ruins, looking carefully at it. The roof seemed not to exist any more, possibly he was crumbled inside, he said to himself. The side wall had three small windows in the shape of half a circle almost on the top of it. There were traces of a decoration in terracotta - yes, baroque popular architecture, he told himself, remembering the history of art lessons.
He reached the facade and saw there was just one door, without wings, on the center of which had grown a bush, possibly a hazel-tree.
Brushing against the stone wall he was about to slip between the bush and the door to gain access inside, when he heard two subdued voices.
"Are you still far?"
"No, be quiet..."
They came from inside the ruins. There was somebody. But why did they speak so low? Enrico asked himself stopping, puzzled.
Again the voices: "Do it gently, you hurt me!"
"If I do it gently I can't come, can I?"
"But it's painful, that way!"
"Shut up, dumbass!"
Enrico, more and more curious, carefully peeped inside and saw... an "anal coitus, or veritable and proper sodomy, also called buggery" in full development. They were two farmers, around twenty years old, one bending forward and sustaining himself with his hands against the wall, the other at his back, holding him at the waist and moving against him in vigorous back and forth moves. Both they had their breeches down to their ankles and Enrico saw the naked buttocks, with the darting muscles, of the one who was evidently the "active male" who was "inserting his penis in the anal hole of the passive male" in the position that the manuscript described as "erect posture against a vertical support". The other one was evidently "masturbating him" - he could not see it clearly, but the arm movement was meaningful.
Enrico stopped to look at the scene, holding his breath. Those darting buttocks, the strong legs just slightly hairy, were a really beautiful scene. The strong and rhythmic movements of the pelvis were fascinating. He could barely see the body of the other young man as it was quite totally covered by the one in the back. But by what he could see, also the "passive male" had to be nicely built. Then he saw that the "active male" passed his arm around the other, substituting his hand and masturbating his companion, at the same rhythm he was pounding in him.
The "passive male" started to moan: "Ah, yeah, ye... so... I like it now. Go on... go on..."
The "active male" started to groan and to give vigorous strokes, Enrico now understood that he was about to reach "the apex of the sexual pleasure, called also an orgasm".
This was confirmed soon by an "Ahh... ahh... I'm coming!" moaned the active one with a voice pitching up at each syllable and at each groan. And he trembled, quivered and pushed strongly inside the other.
Then Enrico stirred himself and, holding his breath, slowly withdrew trying not to raise any noise - he didn't want the two youths to realize that somebody stole a moment of their "secret impulses". A secret has to remain such, or at least to be believed such.
He just turned the corner when he became still and flattened himself against the wall - the two youths were coming out of the ruin. He saw them, passing almost in front of him but they didn't notice the boy and went away. The one who was the "active male" had an arm around the shoulders of the other in a comradely attitude, and was saying to his friend that he liked him a lot, and that they had to do it more often, so that also the other could came to enjoy it; the other answered that effectively this time had been better than the last time and got a stronger pleasure. Yes they had to do it more often, the "passive male" said, possibly also the day after... then Enrico could no more understand their words.
Enrico started to breathe again regularly. Well, he thought while going down towards his horse he learned two things - at first it can be painful for the "passive male" but each time was less painful and more pleasurable and the pleasure was strong. And also, it was better doing it as often as possible. He asked himself if also Baldovino had similar impulsions and, if it was so, with whom he could possibly do it. Then he asked himself if he would have liked doing it with Baldovino - possibly yes, if the young man was some what more likeable.
But would he have loved best being the active or the passive one? The manuscript said that somebody is only or mainly active, some other only or mainly passive, but others were, according the occasions, active and passive. Well, Enrico thought, possibly this last was the best solution. But is a person by birth only active or only passive, or are they both, or can they become either way in some way? This was not clear from the manuscript. Yes, he would have preferred being both.
Then he thought that with a woman, a man can only be active... therefore it was better doing it with a man. The man is more handsome, and has a more stout body. And then, with a man you can also be a friend, as the two farmers he just saw and who had left half embraced, like two good friends. With a woman, a man cannot be friend.
Back to his horse, he decided to go back slowly to the villa- enough time had elapsed at that point.
He could not imagine Donaldo doing that kind of things, Carlo-Luigi yes. Baldovino more than the others, possibly because he was the more handsome of the three brothers, he though. But perhaps, also Carlo-Luigi, naked, could have a nice body, even though he seemed to be much too thin.
Back at the villa, thinking with some worry what to say about Donaldo, he saw that Baldovino was already back - therefore they could say nothing to him. Then he saw also Donaldo and had a sigh of relief. Only Carlo-Luigi was not yet back, but he arrived just half an hour later. As he guessed, Donaldo was just bored of that ride and went back without saying to the others his decision.
They had dinner, then Enrico played for a while backgammon with Carl-Luigi. He was the more likeable of the brothers, in spite of being not handsome. He felt the desire to tell to his friend what he saw in the afternoon in the ruins, but then decided it was better to keep the secret. But he would have liked to talk of it with somebody.
He hit the bed, slipped under the drapes and shut off the lamp. He felt the yen to masturbate therefore he pulled up his long night shirt, prepared his handkerchief and started to give himself pleasure, closing his eyes. And he saw again the scene of the two young farmers and told himself that doing it in two had to be a lot better than doing it alone, and that also the passive one liked it a lot more when masturbated by the friend. And that ass dancing back and forward was really beautiful to see. It was... how to define it... virile! A pity he could not see their faces. But of course they were beautiful, he decided.
But if it is a secret, how can one communicate such thing to another? To another sharing the same kind of secret? In fact it was clear from the manuscript - there are many, but not everybody, and neither the majority, feeling those kinds of impulses.
The manuscript said that !all these practices are particularly frequent in boarding schools, in barracks, on ships, in jails, at times as a substitute for the absence of persons of the opposite sex, at times for a real attraction towards persons of the same sex." All places from where he was, for the moment, excluded. Well, from jails, he hoped, forever, and not just for the moment.
He then daydreamed of boarding schools where all the boys were doing that on their desks in rest times, lowering their trousers; barracks where the soldiers, leaning against the walls in groups of two each near the other, were doing it with passion like the two farmers in the ruins; ships in which each berth had on it two sailors possibly giving each other pleasure with a "mutual fellatio"; jails were the inmates were coupling in the cells to pass their time, or perhaps no, even better, where the guardians were doing it with the inmates?
Well, this was not clear from the manuscript it was not detailed to that point. Who knows why his father didn't enter him in a boarding school? He asked himself... and finally he reached his orgasm. He cleaned himself and fell asleep, with all these thoughts which were agreeably whirling inside his head.
CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 2
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 andrej@andrejkoymasky.com ---------------------------