As I present you with the last chapter of "Leaving Dubai," I want to remind you that nifty.org relies upon the financial support of readers; without it you have to find your gay reading somewhere else. Please give freely at donate@nifty.org. You cock will thank you.
Chapter 3 or 3
Mr. and Mr.
Int three weeks and a day, the newlyweds finally found the farmhouse and vineyard they wanted.
"I love this view and we love Italy, but that farmhouse needs lots of work." Paul remarked.
"So what? We have lots of time to fix it up. I say we should buy it."
"We don't know anything about farming of grapes. I am not sure we can run a vineyard."
Keith realized that Paul was right, but he didn't care. He hugged and kissed his new husband and soon the pair were landowners in Italy.
It took only a couple hours of driving rain for the lovers to realize how really bad the farmhouse was. Holding umbrellas in the kitchen, Paul asked his husband, "Are you handy with tools? How much of this can you fix?"
"I don't know a hacksaw from a wrench. Maybe we should find a contractor."
"You think?"
After three days of rain and looking for a contractor, the sun shone, and a hunky gay contractor happened to show up at their house. "My name is Romeo. You met my uncle Enzo when he sold you this place. He knew you would need a contractor. I do the best work in all of Italy; you should hire me."
"Do you know the difference between a hacksaw and a wrench?" Keith asked, mischievously.
Romeo was startled by such a stupid question. "Si, I know."
"And you know how to use them?" Paul interjected adding to the nonsense.
"Do you also make pizza? My incompetent husband only knows how to order takeout."
"Si, I know," Romeo answered, his puzzled face wondering if all Americans are this stupid.
"But I prefer spaghetti; do you also make spaghetti?" Keith asked, barely containing his mirth.
"Si, I make best spaghetti in aal of Italy. I know to make spaghetti."
"Do you charge extra for that?' Paul asked.
Romeo was beginning to look upon the lovers differently; he seemed to be over suspecting that Americans are stupid. Now, he was either convinced Americans are crazy or that maybe something else was going on here.
"Si signore. I charge extra. That is what a hacksaw is for, to cut the spaghetti. I bring hacksaw, too. Only 60 Euros each. Very cheap, "Romeo said, now fully onto what the idiots from America were up to. "I also make the vino, right here, from your own grapes, best vino in all of Italy. Noo extra charge."
Keith decided to push a little harder as he noticed that Paul was about to bust a gut. "That's good because the wine from take-outs costs too much.
By now, and probably long before, Romeo had caught on to the humor well enough to participate. "Senior, to get takeout, you have to call New York, but don't worry, I can fix your cell phones, too. That is what the wrench is for. You like sausage in your spaghetti? They have the thirteen-inch kind, but I see you brought your own, Signor Keith."
"Well, if you know about thirteen-inch sausage, I guess we better hire you; but only if you also eat thirteen-inch sausage," Keith teased.
"No. No. No, hubby. You know I don't like to share my sausage. Are we going to get divorced already, you cheater?"
Paul finally burst out laughing. Romeo cracked-up, too. Keith tried to maintain his composure until he finally could hold it no more.
When the three men recovered, they shook hands on the deal. Romeo asked to look at the decrepit house so he could get the needed building supplies.
"My crew will start tomorrow. They can tear down the broken-down stuff. I will get supplies and come back the next day," Romeo promised as he examined the house and then got into his broken down truck and left.
Keith and Paul went back to the bridal suite of their hotel and celebrated by switching positions. Paul fucked Keith's ass, as best he could with such a small prick, but remembered, almost too late, that he had bought Keith a 17-inch dildo he had his eyes on and ran off to get it.
Very soon after that, Keith tried to escape the room, the dildo firmly stuck up his innards. Paul clearly loved this special wedding gift. Keith was screaming too hard to get his opinion of it.
And that is how every marriage should be: make em scream; keep em happy!