Italian Brothers

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 5 . New experiences

Enrico was now alone in the room he had shared with Samuele. Therefore for some months he had no more sex. Samuele was happy with his new life as a married man and told Enrico that he had enjoyed having sex with him, but that he clearly preferred a woman.

Possibly, also to compensate a little for his separation from Samuele, Enrico started to mix with his study mates more than before. One of them invited him to attend a group of "historical studies". Enrico found it interesting. Soon he noticed that in that group were circulating new ideas. Especially a young doctor, whose name was Carlo Poma, fascinated him. Not only and not so much physically, but for his personality and character. Carlo Poma was clearly oriented towards women, therefore Enrico, after a first moment of expectation, set aside his hope. But the fascination of the young physician's personality was so strong that he tried, all the same, to become at least his friend.

Carlo defined himself as a patriot. But to him the concept of fatherland was deeply different than, for instance, that of Enrico's father and of the majority of people. To Carlo the fatherland, the "land of the fathers", was not Venetian land, and even less the Austro-Hungarian Empire. To Carlo the Fatherland (with a capital "F") was Europe. A single culture, the Greek-roman one, a common racial stock, an unic religion, the christianism, united Europe in a sole entity whose peoples were so mixed up to constitute, at his eyes, an homogeneous and indistinguishable whole, especially if compared with cultures such as the Arab-Asiatic or the Russian-Slavic.

But in this whole, artfully divided in nations, according to Carlo, one nation didn't still have the dignity of existing as a homogeneous entity - the Italian nation.

"From the Alps to the Jonian Sea, we speak one only language, Italian, we have one only religion, Catholicism, one only cultural tradition. Dante is not only a Florentine, a Tuscan, he is the poet of us all, and he is Italian. The same for Michelangelo, Cellini, Leonardo, Raffaello, Pier Capponi, Masaniello... they all are Italian, and yet it doesn't still exist as a recognized entity having the same dignity of the other states, that we can call Italy! Italy has been divided, enslaved, humiliated..."

Enrico listened carefully to these speeches - in the group were circulating in great secrecy the writings of one Giuseppe Mazzini, who championed the republican ideal; they talked about the writings of one Gioberti, who wished an united Italy under the rule of the Pope; they whispered about one Giuseppe Garibaldi, who was recruiting volunteers ready to give their life for an united Italy...

These were dangerous, subversive speeches, and yet very fascinating and Enrico felt more and more involved in them, as he felt they were right and sound.

Enrico was twenty one years old when he met his third man, a theatrical actor.

This was a twenty nine year old youth, his name was Otello Atzeni. With his troupe they were playing ShakespeareÕs tragedies and Otello was splendid in Hamlet's role. Enrico went to see it with his university mates. After the play one of them, who was really rich and full of money, invited the entire troupe to dinner. Enrico found himself sitting near Otello Atzeni.

The actor was a likeable and handsome companion, so that Enrico felt attracted to him. Otello was sitting between Enrico and another university student, but this last was engaged in a conversation with the actress sitting at his right, so that Enrico and Otello talked all the time together.

When Enrico told him he would have liked to see the other tragedies played by the troupe, Otello said, "I will send you a carnet of complimentary tickets, so that you can come and see us any time you like."

"That's very kind of you, and I am really grateful. What can I do to repay your courtesy?"

"Two things - advertise our plays and, when you come to see us, after the performance come to greet me in my dressing room..."

"More than willingly." Enrico said gladly.

The following day he received at home the carnet with a card jot down by Otello, saying, "I hope to see you soon at the theater. Your company yesterday night during the dinner has been extremely pleasing. See you soon, Atzeni O."

Thus, once a week, Enrico started to go to theatre and after the performance he gave his name to go to Otello's dressing room.

The actor, though always surrounded by his admirers, found the way to talk with him, and one evening told him, "My friend, you see how I am besieged!"

"Aren't you pleased? It is the evidence of your fame."

"Yes, certainly it is... but I would like having more time to spend with you. Why don't you wait for me? I'll change my clothes, and then we can go to have a drink together..."

"With real pleasure. Where can I wait for you?"

"In front of the theatre there is a cafe open till late. Wait for me inside there. I will try not to be late."

In the eyes of the young man Enrico noticed a special light and asked himself if by chance also the actor was a lover of his own sex. And he wished so - he liked the actor very much. He went to wait for him at the cafe and ordered a hot chocolate.

Otello came and sat, smiling, at his table, "Here I am at last, all for you! I hope you don't have to go back too soon..."

"I have the key, I don't have a fixed time to go back home."

"Very good, but here they will close in a short while. Why don't you drop in to my place? I have a room at Damiani's Hotel, a small room but all for myself. And so I can show you the newspapers cuttings talking about me..."

"Willingly, if this doesn't bother you."

"On the contrary! Are you coming, then?"

They went to the hotel and up to Otello's room. There reigned an agreeable disorder, the one you can expect to find in an artist's room. Otello tried to tidy up summarily and freed two chairs and a part of the small desk.

"Have a seat, please. Here is the album of the cuttings talking about me..." he said and, opening in front of him the album, instead of sitting on the other chair, he stood at the back of Enrico, to point out the various articles and to comment on them. Enrico could feel his proximity and became aroused.

While Otello, leaning above him, was explaining, Enrico raised a little his head and their faces brushed slightly. Their eyes met.

"Do you know that you have wonderful eyes?" Otello said to him and passed his hand through EnricoÕs hair.

Enrico raised some more his head and whispered, "And you... you have sensual and sweet lips..."

"Do you think?" Otello asked in a breath and his lips went down to meet Enrico's lips.

They kissed. Enrico stood up turning; they embraced, hugged kissing again, and felt that the other too was aroused.

"Oh, Enrico! Come..." Otello said driving him towards his bed. They undressed each other with feverish hands, climbed on the bed and enlaced to each other, full of desire. Otello knew where to touch him to stir up his pleasure, and Enrico was more and more aroused - he loved those long preliminaries.

"Enrico..." moaned the young man lying on his back and pulling Enrico upon him.

"Yes?"

Otello spread his legs raising them at the sides of the other, "Take me, and push it all inside me, please!"

Enrico looked at him in surprise, but Otello had his eyes shut and was pulling him to himself. So Enrico directed with the hand his member, pushed, started to sink in him, smooth like a hand entering in its glove, and felt strong warmth enveloping him.

He emitted a low moan, "Ooooh, Otello... I like it!"

"Yes, push, harder!"

"Yes, oh yes!" Enrico cried out, feeling prey of an intense pleasure and, when he was fully immersed, he placed his knees and elbows on the mattress and started to heatedly piston inside the young man.

"Yes so, yes so..." Otello spurred him tossing under him.

When finally Enrico lay motionless on him, panting, emptied, Otello caressed him for a long while.

"Now it's you turn to take me." Enrico said thinking that his companion could desire to take him.

"No, I only like being fucked. You are a real young bull, Enrico. I'm glad I offered myself to you."

"And I to have taken you! Did you know that it is my first time?"

"To make love or to have sex with a man?"

"Neither of them, it's the first time I am on top."

"I would say you liked it, luckily. Will you come again to visit me?"

"For sure, and with a real pleasure." Enrico answered and Otello kissed him.

They became lovers. The met two or three times per week. No more in the late evening but in day time, when Enrico ended his lessons. They dated one time for the other. Enrico loved the merry welcome of the other - they talked about theater, about this and that, they made love, they talked again.

Enrico grew fond of Otello, or rather, little by little he fell in love. Thus, a day, he told him so.

"It's now seven months we have known each other... and I, Otello, have become aware I am in love with you..."

"Thank you." the actor answered with a short smile.

"But... do you love me?" Enrico asked, slightly strained.

"Yes, yes, I love you. I adore this beautiful member of yours that you push inside me with such vigor. You make me feel I am all yours, when you take me."

Enrico was happy.

Otello seemed... hungry for him. When he went upstairs in his room, he embraced him impetuously and said to him, with urgency, "At last here you are! Come, let me feel your good pole, take me, make me yours!" and undressed him, filled with irrepressible lust, took him to the bed, made Enrico lie down on him and offered himself spurring him, "Your are a real male, Enrico... Oooh, yes... harder, stronger.... Oh, Enrico, what a bull you are! Fuck me, make me die!"

"Did you miss me, Otello?"

"Yes... your good pole, Enrico... Harder!"

"Did you think of me, in these days?"

"Yes, and each time I throbbed with excitement waiting to meet you, to give myself to you! Oh, yes, Enrico, soooo... make me feel all of it!" the man moaned tossing under him.

Enrico felt on fire, he put his heart into it, got into him with enthusiasm, and when finally he abandoned himself on top of him, exhausted, sated, Otello hugged him almost violently and whispered, "You like banging me, don't you?"

"I love you, Otello." the youth answered, panting. But then, much to his regret, he had to leave.

The actor cleaned him, then himself and gave him the date for the following meeting, "I'm sorry you have to leave... I would be ready to start again, even now."

"But unhappily you have to rehearse your play and I have to go to study..." said Enrico, glad for the inexhaustible desire that the actor showed him.

Inexhaustible desire, for real.

Several months later, one morning Enrico went to the university just to be informed that, for a sudden illness of his anatomy teacher, the lesson was not held. His friends invited him to a political meeting, but Enrico on the contrary thought he could do a surprise to his Otello and be for a longer time with him, therefore he excused himself and went, in a fast pace, to his man's hotel. He went up to his room and knocked at the door. He had to knock several times, but finally Otello came, wrapped in his gown of damask, his eyes drowsy.

"Otello! Did I wake you up?"

"Yes, but... why are you here?"

"There is no lesson, this morning, so I thought..." the young man said entering the room of his man.

"But it is not your turn, this morning..." the man said hesitantly, looking the watch he had on the table.

"My turn? What do you mean?" Enrico asked slightly puzzled. Then, noticing he was looking at his watch, he asked, "Are you waiting for somebody?"

"Our wardrobe designer... for some fitting..."

"Will that take you a long time? When does he come?"

"In fifteen minutes..."

"Well... I can wait in the other room; I have all the morning free."

"No... The fitting will take me much time, I'm afraid. I'm sorry, but I was waiting for you tomorrow afternoon..."

"What did you mean, before, when you said it was not my turn?"

"Nothing... I'm just a little drowsy, I talked haphazardly."

The wardrobe designer, Enrico thought. A twenty eight years old man; he caught a glimpse of him several times... He was going for the fittings there, in his room... Weird! Why not in the dressing room in the theater? Enrico felt a pang of jealousy - a handsome young man, there...

"But you... what fittings are you talking about? And why here, in your room?" Enrico hesitantly asked.

"I was waiting for you tomorrow..." the man repeated, ill at ease.

"You and that young man, then..." Enrico said looking him in his eyes, anxiously.

"Enrico, try to understand..."

"Understand? What do I have to understand, that you make him bang you too? And who else? How many more?"

"But what? Do you believe that it could be enough for me doing it with you just two or three times each week? I like you very much, yes, but... of course I have others, as long as my body is young and desirable... Beauty and youth elapse even too fast, don't you know? I have to profit, as long as I'm still pleasing. How many more? The most I have the best it is, Enrico. The wardrobe designer, one of the waiters of this hotel, the son of my impresario... and at evening, after our performance, some of my admirers, not less than two each day, Enrico."

"And you said you loved me!" the young man accused him, bitterly.

"And I love you, but you are not always here for me."

"But what does it mean to you, then, to love?"

"I like how you mount me, how you bang me! You are a young bull."

"Yes, and you... you are a cow in heat!" retorted with rage and scorn Enrico, feeling on the brim of tears.

Otello smiled, "Yes, why not, a cow in heat surrounded by bulls in heat. Nunzio, the waiter, is married, he has two sons. He says he likes best banging me than his wife. I like being banged and you know how to bang, you are skilled. But it's not only you who exist. You have a very good cock and you use it in the right way, but yours is not the only one, luckily."

"And you said you loved me..." Enrico repeated feeling emptied.

"Come on, Enrico! You really couldn't believe you only existed, could you? I like you, I really like you a lot or else I would not have continued having sex with you for almost two years..."

"You rather like my member!"

"Yes, sure, I like it. I like sucking it, I like the feeling of it sinking inside me, and how it hammers into me. What more? Didn't I always give you pleasure?"

"You told me you were mine!"

"And I am yours... while you bang me. I'm yours!"

"You are ready to be banged by the first passerby who wants to amuse himself inside you!"

"Why, didn't you amuse yourself inside me?"

"But I loved you. I was in love with you..." Enrico sadly said, shaking his head.

In that moment someone knocked at the door.

"I must be going, then!" the youth said.

"Will I see you tomorrow afternoon?"

"I don't think so."

They knocked again.

"Go and open the door." Enrico said.

The wardrobe designer entered.

When he saw Enrico, he stopped, disconcerted, but then opened in a wide smile, "You didn't tell me it was a threesome, today, Otello! Mmmhh, no bad at all, the boy, I should say! He too takes it up his ass?"

"No... He is going away..." the actor said, somewhat embarrassed.

"Yes, I take it also up my ass, but not by you. You should content yourself to mount him, I regret." Enrico dryly answered.

The wardrobe designer took his arm looking at him with a smile and with his other hand groped Enrico's crotch, "You seem well endowed. I like both ways, why don't you mount me while I mount Otello? It would be amusing." he proposed with a lusty look.

Enrico wriggled away, "No, look for somebody else for your threesomes." he said and went out of the room, going hurriedly home.

On the way back, he met Samuele.

"Enrico! What a pleasure meeting you! It is almost ten days we don't see each other. But... what face you have! What happened?"

"Oh, Samuele... Nothing, it is nothing."

"Come on! You have such a look... as if you were about crying."

"That's so..."

"Some problems? Besides being cousins, we are friends, aren't we? If you would tell me..."

"Do you have time? Take me somewhere... where we can talk in tranquility..."

Samuele took him in a cafe and asked for a reserved room. Here Enrico told him the burning delusion he received from Otello.

Samuele listened to him then said, "My poor Enrico. I can understand you. But what could you expect from an actor? With theatre people one goes just to amuse himself, one should never fall in love."

"It seems that I always fall in love with the wrong people..."

"You are still young, come on! And then, for people loving his own gender, everything is more difficult. But you are a dear boy, and sooner or later you will find somebody able to give you true love. I too loved you, in a way. It's not worth feeling so bad, for that actor."

"I fooled myself..."

"That's right."

"Because... I need love."

"And who doesn't need it, my friend?"

"You, at least, found it."

"Do you believe so? No. I found a woman, a good wife, a worthy mother for my children the day we will have some, a nice companion. But love... There was more love between you and me, believe me. Between me and my wife there is affection, and this is better than nothing. She doesn't cheat on me, I don't cheat on her. But love... I believe that one human being in a hundred has the privilege to know real love and to keep it for all his life. And possibly even less than one in a hundred..."

"Therefore, how can I expect to be that one in a hundred?" Enrico commented with a bitter accent.

"And finding the other one in a hundred, this is the problem. For a true, deep love, you have to be in two and so the probabilities became one in ten thousand..."

"Samuele the mathematician..." Enrico smiled.

"Oh, good, at least mathematics had the power to make you smile! Come on, Enrico try not to be too much upset. Life goes on, doesn't it? Just think that the actor... didn't deserve you. And this is true."

"Thank you Samuele, it made me feel good talking with you. The biggest problem for us who love our same sex possibly is to have somebody with whom we can talk about what we feel, face, and experience. Talking is a healing thing..."

"You know that you always can talk with me, don't you?"

"Yes, and I am grateful. And I am also grateful because you don't repudiate what was between us for some years."

"Repudiate it? How could I? I too wanted it, I too enjoyed it? It would be not honest nor towards you and neither towards myself. Come on, Enrico, never lose your beautiful smile. Learn from this event not to fool yourself, but continue in your search for love with faith..."

"Also if I have a possibility of one in ten thousand?"

"Also, sure!"

That dialog made Enrico feel good, and even more than the words, the affection that Samuele showed him.

He immersed himself in his studies and in attending the political group and his friendship with Carlo Poma grew stronger.

CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 6

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 ---------------------------