Memory

MEMORY by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2008 written on December 6, 1992 translated by the author English text kindly revised by Baruch

USUAL DISCLAIMER

"MEMORY" 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.

First - A serious accident

Proceeding at full speed along the expressway, Nicola longed to arrive home in order to relax and, perhaps, sleep. His highest priority was to forget, although, he knew it would be difficult.

Why should people such as Paolo exist? His selfdelusion caused him to again be deceived. Before this latest boy, there was Danilo, preceding him appeared Fausto. All had only been interested in fucking him, because of his physical beauty but none of them gave him in change not even a little bit of affection, of consideration, of respect.

"Why am I not ugly, drab... or, at least, insensitive? I would have fewer problems if I were" he thought while negotiating a curve.

Emerging from the bend he heard the roar of a powerful engine, as an Alfa-Romeo overtook him with such force its tires screeched. The startled young man cursed the driver, as the car unexpectedly went straight after passing him. He, in turn, was forced to abruptly brake to avoid crashing into the car.

Not following the road bend, the auto careened off the highway as if it were an airborne rocket. Jamming on his brakes more vigorously, the biker's swerving two-wheeler reared like a bucking wild stallion. It was a miracle the shaken youngster was able to stop on the road's edge, with his vehicle's engine racing. He saw the car land flat on the meadow with a noisy thud. At the moment of impact, the doors flew open with the driver flung out as if he was a Raggedy Ann Doll, landing in the meadow by the car's side. His appearance resembled a tumbled over scare-crow. Then, everything returned to an eerie silence.

At that moment, the motorcyclist heard a squawking far away goose. It seemed to him to be a surreal commentary on what had happened.

Letting down his bike, removing his helmet, and sprinting to the accident scene the witness, with his heart in his mouth, stopped near the still body. He looked at it, while asking himself if he was still alive.

Then, he noticed the fingers of the man's hand bending slightly. Crouching near him, he called out, "Can you hear me?"

However, it was evident the guy had lost consciousness. His limp body lay on the ground strangely.

The shaken observer thought he needed to move him, but then he remembered it could be dangerous to tamper with an injured victim.

Rushing back to his transport, he put on his helmet, restarted the engine and sped to the next village in search of a public telephone. Finding one, called the police.

When an agent replied he said, "Operator, I have just witnessed a terrible mishap. Please send an ambulance to..."

He gave directions to the crash, before hanging up and returning to the scene.

The unconscious man was still there alone.

Nicola reasoned, thinking that it was possible nobody else saw what transpired or passed by while he was gone. On the other hand, if someone had, they didn't care and drove away. Unfortunately, the latter occurs far too frequently. People are becoming ever more indifferent to the problems and sufferings of others, he thought.

Crouching near the inanimate body, Nicola ascertained the injured man was still breathing. Blood poured out from a cut on the man's forehead, dirtying his face.

Looking around the wreck, the youngster observed on the ground, by the door, a wallet. Retrieving it, he found cash, a driver's license and a picture. Reading the document, he discovered the unconscious man was a thirtynine-year-old named Gilberto Ferri who lived near him.

Comparing the actual body to its imagine, Nicola observed that he was more handsome in the photo. But, of course, his face, besides being covered in grime, belonged to a poor unconscious, injured man!

Replacing the contents, the youngster returned the wallet to where he had found it. Then, he again drew nearer the man to stare at his face. Taking out of his pocket his handkerchief, he gently wiped away the blood.

He looked at his watch. It was four-twenty-seven in the afternoon. Next, he asked himself how much time had elapsed since the mishap, and how long it would take the ambulance to arrive.

At that moment he heard the wailing of the approaching sirens. He ran back to the shoulder to signal the police the exact point of the accident. Stopping, the cops hurried over.

Nicola worriedly asked, "Where is the ambulance? When is it coming?"

"Soon... Is that bike, yours?"

"Yes, why?"

"Were you present at the time of the mishap?"

"I was!"

"Tell my colleague what happened." the officer said before proceeding to the scene.

Nicola had started to narrate his story when the ambulance finally arrived. They took away the injured man, as Nicola completed his description before leaving his name and address. Looking at the departing transport Nicola saw the name "General Hospital" written on its side. The police were still examining the car when Nicola left. He noticed an investigator had recovered the wallet and was examining its contents.

Back home, the young man poured himself a drink, undressed and put on his sweats.

For the moment, he had forgotten Paolo and was concentrating on the accident victim. He recalled the man's name and, without even knowing why, he jotted it down.

Then, he wondered if anyone informed the victim's family. Perhaps, he should... Looking in the telephone directory, the guy found a "Gilberto Ferri" whose address matched. He conjectured it must be the same person. He could be marriedÉ Perhaps has children...

Dialing the number, he thought that if someone answered he would just casually ask if the man were home. That way, he would ascertain whether the police informed them. Despite hearing a tone and letting it ring for a long time, no one answered. He thought that perhaps, they already went to the hospital.

Hearing the door open, he checked his watch - it was seven-forty-two, so it was his mother.

He greeted her, aloud. The woman answered and went into the living room. "Dad didn't come home, yet?"

"No, Mum. Don't you remember he told us he was eating out with his colleagues, tonight?"

"Oh, yes, you're right, I forgot. The celebratory supper for Guerrini who's retiring. Am I correct? I'm warming the meal and will go change my clothes, in the meantime. By any chance, did Federica call?"

"I don't know, Mum; I came home less than one hour ago."

"Did you see your advisor?"

"Yes, Ma'am!" Nicola lied.

While eating supper his mother told him what she had done during the afternoon, concluding, "I would like it better if you, too, come, Nicola. You have good taste and could provide me excellent advice."

"Sorry, Mom, but wouldn't it be better if Dad went? After all he is the one who has to appreciate it."

"No! I want to surprise him, as I told you." his mother argued.

She sat in front of the TV while using the remote control.

Remembering the accident the young man phoned, again, getting the same result. Then, he went to his room for his studies. But, upon opening a book, he recalled Paolo.

"Yes, I was right leaving him, despite his greatness in bed!"

Love! Is it, really? Or, is the only one existing thing the yen to fuck? So what, if occasionally you feel the desire to jerk off without reason or need. Of course, there are also moments of intense eroticism, but would these feeling have to be shared with love, as well? The romantic, extraordinarily strong ardor which poets, narrators, comedians and film-makers celebrate... but you never are able to find, is nothing other than fantasy, pure myth! For all he knew, an illusion, sweet as long as it lasts, however it turns bitter when reality forces you to sink into disenchantment!

"No, I must grow up, mature and be aware that love doesn't exist! If I understood that earlier, I might not have left Paolo."

Checking again his watch, he realized it was almost midnight. Closing his unread book, he went to his door to say goodnight to his mother who still sat in front of the TV.

He quickly prepared for bed.

While falling asleep, he imagined he heard his father arrive home.

Awakening the following morning, he unsuccessfully tried again to call Ferri's home. He thought that it was possible Gilberto lived alone. Perhaps, none of his family, if he had one, were informed of the accident.

So, instead of going to the university, he drove to the hospital. Asking the doctors for an update, he discovered the victim remained unconscious with no one able to track down any of his relatives.

Inquiring to see the man, he found the patient was lying in bed with eyes closed, head bandaged and right arm and leg in a cast.

A nurse entered the room, inquiring, "Are you a kinsman?"

"No, an acquaintance."

Biting his tongue, the dude queried to himself why did he lie? But, of course, so he won't be sent away...

Moving a chair next to the white enamelled bed, he sat looking at the man. Gilberto had a beautiful face, as framed by the bandages and bed sheets' brightness. He appeared handsome in his relaxed, torpid serenity.

Nicola asked himself why did he go to the hospital, to sit by that stranger's bedside. Perhaps, because he had no one to take care of him? Could it be, while he was not responsible, he was anyway involved, since he witnessed the mishap, rescued the victim and called the police? Or, is was because he cursed the poor man when he overtook him, and so... But, no... He had nothing to do with it!

And, yet, he felt at this point in his life, and of the unknown man's existence, he had an undeniable, unavoidable connection...

Then he asked himself if he was attracted by his appearance? Undoubtedly, he was a striking man, but... who was he, after all? He might be a hateful, unpleasant person, even though it seemed unlikely, at least judging from his calm, tranquil appearance. However, he could look that way, because he was filled with sedatives... "Who knows whom he is, or what he does? The guy is thirty-nine and, perhaps, not even married... If instead of his driving licence I had seen his ID, I might have uncovered more information." he told himself.

Nicola remained there, in silence, to observe and ruminate for more than an hour.

The nurse returned. "We are unable to locate Mr Ferri's family. Can you provide some information?"

"No, I don't know... I have no connection with his clan."

"Have you been acquainted with him for some time? Are you cognizant, by chance, of where he works?"

"No, I'm sorry, I don't... We never discussed it..."

Shrugging her shoulders, she exited.

Nicola looked back at Gilberto, stood up and was about to go out when he met again the nurse at the door.

"Are you leaving?"

"Yes... why?"

"Well... if something happened... please give us a number to contact you?"

"Such as what?"

"I have no idea... some complications... The prognosis is still uncertain, you know... Didn't you speak with the physician?"

"No... I barely know Mr Ferri."

"But, you are the only one who showed any interest in the poor man, up to now."

"I see. The doctor... is he in, now?"

"No... Please return tomorrow morning around eight o'clock."

"Alright, I'll try to make it."

Nicola nodded, followed her to a small office, wrote down his name and phone number, then departed.

Now, he was involved, perhaps even more than he wanted. He had to tell them at home, in case someone called from the hospital.

He started driving to the university, but along the way, changed his mind and, instead, headed to the victim's home, which was located in a new building. Next to the untended locked entranceway was a fancy looking intercom on which he saw the man's last name. Ringing the bell, provided no response.

As he was leaving, the front door opened, and a lady came out.

"Are you looking for somebody?" she asked.

"Mr Ferri, but no one answered."

"He's probably at work."

"Do you know where he is employed?"

"Yes... at the local savings bank. But... who are you?"

"Thank you, goodbye." the young man rushed away, leaving the woman disconcerted.

Going to the Bank, he requested Gilberto.

"The director? I don't know, he hasn't arrived, yet. Would you like to speak with his assistant?"

"I am grateful for your help, but it won't be necessary."

While exiting he saw an officer entering, and he heard him ask about the victim. Now he understood the police were inquiring, undoubtedly to contact a relative. As he was in charge of the branch, he should be well known. Therefore, they had to be able to locate his family.

Nicola went back home, told his mother about the accident he had witnessed and told her he gave his name to the hospital, to allow them to inform him if problem should arise, at least as long as they couldn't find a relative who could take care of the man.

His mother approved him, "I think I know him at least by sight. He's a handsome man but, for what I know he's not married. I've heard he comes from Novara, if I'm right. Yes, when he got the place of doctor Segre, last year, I really think they said he moved here from Novara. But I don't know if he has family there, or if he just worked there before being moved here... Let's hope they can find soon some relative, poor man...Ó

Nicola nodded. So then his name was Gilberto Ferri, he was a bank director and came from Novara. And he was a handsome man, possibly not married. And he was now lying on an hospital bed because of a street accident, still with a reserved prognosis. This was all.

He went to his room. He thought he would have liked knowing some more about him... but how? And then, why? He would anyway go to the hospital the following morning, and he could possibly go on visiting him until a relative showed up, as none can be abandoned, not even an unknown person. At least until he was declared out of risks.

The following morning he returned to the hospital.

Recognizing him, the smiling nurse said, "He hasn't yet regained consciousness. If you want to meet the doctor..."

"But I hardly... barely know the fellow, and I don't believe if..."

"The officer said you were present when the accident happened. I know the physician would like to talk to you about it. Please follow me..."

Nicola spoke with the head surgeon. The practitioner requested him to describe the incident, then told the student there was nothing to worry about, aside from some fractures and his state of shock, at least for the moment. But, he said they needed to carry out all the necessary procedures before issuing their final prognosis. He added the patient's blood showed no traces of alcohol or other drugs.

Nicola went back to see the still unconscious fellow. After sitting near him for a while, he left.

Departing, he suddenly recalled his breakup with Paolo, but, to his astonishment, he no longer cared. It was, as if the event had occurred in the distant past. And, yet, two days before, the split up had devastated him.

This turn of events totally astounded the young man.

After some thought, he concluded that it was the accident which helped him quickly overcome the anguish of his loss. In life there are more serious matters than the desolation of a relationship which had started so poorly and ended even worse...

A careless driver nearly killed himself. In turn, it led him to be at the scene of the mishap to save him. Be it fate, destiny, or God, who knows, it was foretold he had to be there, exactly at that moment.

Finally, Nicola returned to the university. While the possibility of bumping into his ex on campus existed, and, until yesterday, would have greatly upset him, it was no longer a concern. Once again, he marveled at the speed of his recovery. However, Paolo was not there.

He asked his friend Marinella for her notes of the lectures he had missed. Then, he went to the copy shop to duplicate them.

While doing so he met Stefano.

"Hi, Nicola, how are you?"

"Fine, thanks."

"We thought you were ill..."

"No, I've been busy."

"So much the better. Listen, tomorrow night we are going to dance at the usual disco. Will you be there?"

"Who's attending?"

"The regulars: Francesca, Paola, Giannina, Marco, Paolo..."

"Also Paolo?"

"Yes, why?"

"No... not any reason... But... I'm uncertain whether I can make it. In case I do, will it be at the usual time and place?"

"Sure. However, please try to come. Were you aware Marta is interested in you?"

"Oh, really? Did she tell you?"

Stefano laughed, winked but didn't answer.

Upon receiving the copied notes, Nicola returned the originals to Marinella before rushing off to his lecture. Entering the classroom, he observed Paolo wasn't present. He thought it was odd. When he told him their relationship was over, Paolo did not seem to care. There had to be another reason for his absence.

Departing at the end of the period, he bumped into his gay friend, Mimmo, who was the only person at the university knowing his sexual orientation and about his relationship with Paolo. The two had discover their "secret" when spotting each other on several occasions at a queer disco.

"Hi, how's your boyfriend?"

"Oh, we broke up the other day!"

"Did you leave him?"

"Yes, why?"

"I expected it. You were in love with him... but he wasn't with you."

"Was it that evident?" Nicola asked.

"Very much, so! I could see he was using you, and it wouldn't last."

"Indeed... but it took me a long time to realize it!"

"How much time were you together?"

"About one year."

"It's no big lose. While Paolo is likeable, he wasn't right for you."

"He's really handsome..."

"That's a matter of opinion!" Mimmo said, shrugging his shoulders.

"But, he is good looking, isn't he?"

"He's not my type! I find nothing special about him."

"His presence always turned me on!"

"You'll find someone better, don't worry."

"I might, but I don't want to be disappointed, again!"

"That is what you say, now, however if you meet the right guy..."

"Have you ever found such an individual? Does he even exist?" Nicola asked.

"Not yet! But, amongst the several million we are, there is at least one."

"It doesn't mean I will meet him."

"Was Paolo your first?" Mimmo asked.

"With whom I had a relationship?"

"No, your first love."

"He was my second. Before him was someone who got me to confront my sexuality... I was fifteen."

"How long were you together?"

"Two years."

"Did you leave him?"

"No, he left me. His name was Cesare. He was twenty-five, my high school gym teacher, and he had the physique of a Greek god. I was so in love with him it felt as if I soaring in the sky. Then, he met another boy, and... I was devastated. After, which, nothing serious occurred for two years, until I met Paolo. At once, he made my head spin, but it took us twelve months before anything happened. Neither one knew the other was gay."

"How did you find out?"

"He made the first move, by inviting me to his home under the pretext of preparing for a test. Upon meeting, he embraced, French-kissed and told me he wanted to make love!"

"The very first time?"

"Yes. When I entered his apartment he shut the door. Then, in the corridor he smacked me on my lips. He said he understood I was a fag, at once, by the way I looked at him, and how I glanced at the other boys..."

"He took a great risk. I would never have the guts to approach another person. Even when I'm certain the other is gay... There is no surety he wants to do it with me."

"Do you fear a rejection, Mimmo?"

"Possibly. Or, perhaps being outed. I don't know. My folks would kick me out, particularly, my father."

"I think my ex's parents know about him."

"Lucky fellow! And, yours?"

"Mine? That would be the last straw! I don't think they would accept me, particularly, my dad."

They chatted some more, then said their goodbyes with Nicola heading back home.

The conversation with Mimmo, reminding him of Cesare and Paolo, had aroused him. Making sure he was alone, he lay closed eyed on his bed while slowly jacking off, as he fantasized about having a threesome with them.

Although Cesare was the more beautiful, Paolo was the greater lover. Yes, he wanted to have sex with both at once and, why not, also with Danilo and Fausto.

He didn't tell his friend about those two, because he hadn't a real relationship with them. It would have been impossible. Danilo was much too mixed-up, filled with fears and anxieties. They had met at the railway WC, having hurried secretive sex several times. Despite the fact Danilo was thirty, had a remarkable rod and was a fabulous cock sucker, Nicola decided to end their surreptitious meetings.

Then he met the determined Fausto. Nicola was eighteen, at that time, while the fellow was two years older. They bumped into each other at a family attended New Year's eve midnight dinner sponsored by his fathers firm which was held in the Villa Sassi Restaurant.

During the meal he went to the john. While peeing next to the twenty-year-old, he observed the dude jerking off at the urinal which turned him on. Noticing, the guy stretched his hand to touch his cock. Startled, Nicola anxiously looked around, relaxing when he found they were alone.

"Don't worry! There is nobody here. I am attracted to you! I observed you for a long time in the dining room. Lets go into one of the stalls."

"No! It's dangerous..."

"Don't you want to have sex with me?"

"Yes. But, it's too risky..." Nicola repeated, blushing.

But, the strong determined hand on his tool was getting him incredibly hot which caused him to freeze on the spot.

"My name's Fausto. And, yours?"

"Nicola."

"I like you, Nicola. Let's go outside, then."

"Where to?"

"My van is in the parking lot. We can go in the back, unseen and undisturbed. I want to make out with you!"

"No, not now! I've to go back, otherwise my folks will become suspicious..."

"Then, when?"

"Another time..."

"Who knows if there will be a second opportunity. I want you so much! Come on... Let's go to my van... I've also a sleeping bag... We will be comfortable..."

"No! Please, don't insist."

"Alright. This is my phone number. Will you call me tomorrow to arrange a meeting?"

The young man gave him his calling card. Reading it, Nicola surmised his suitor was working for the Fratelli Fabbri, the publishing company.

"Tomorrow, I'll be home all day. Call me!" Fausto said.

"Yes, I think I will..."

"Don't disappointment me... you're so hot! You won't be sorry if you contact me!"

"I promise..." the teen answered fixing his pants before he returned unsettled to his table.

Pocketing the number, all he could think about was the other dude the rest of the evening. Searching several times he was unable to spot Fausto.

Would he call? Probably...

At midnight they stood up, made a toast and exchanged New Year's greetings, with everyone surrounding them.

Suddenly, Fausto jumped in front of him, embracing and, then, whispering into his ear, "Later today... I count on it, Nicola!" Then, he quickly moved on to hug and greet other people.

The next morning, after eleven o'clock, the eighteen-year-old dialed his new friend.

"Hi, my name is Nicola... may I speak to Fausto?"

"This is he! I'm glad you phoned. When can we meet?"

"This afternoon?"

"Perfect! Where?"

"Any place you want. I will come into town..."

"By train? What time?"

"No, with the bus. You may expect me at four in the afternoon. Is that alright?"

"Perfect! We can come to my home. I'm alone, we will be comfortable. I'll pick you up with my van from the bus stop. Where will you get off? At Marconi Boulevard?"

"No, at Inghilterra Boulevard. Do you know where the bus station is?"

"Yes, sure. I'll be there. I'm already hard!"

"Ah..."

"See you soon, Nicola!"

Their liaisons succeeded, despite it differing from how Nicola imagined it would be. In bed, the more experienced youg man, losing all his previous aggressiveness and insensitivity, was sweet, but not a wus. He didn't possess a great body, however his passionate love making over prolonged periods more than compensated.

They met several times during the subsequent six month period. The Nicola had begun to fall in love with him until he discovered the older guy was having sex with many other partners.

So, as soon as he met Paolo, he cut with Fausto.

"Yes!" the now turned up young adult daydreamed while slowly jerking off, "I would like to have, one time, an orgy with Cesare, Danilo, Fausto and Paolo. A good foursome... Cesare fucks me while Paolo sucks me, and I tongue Fausto while Danilo does Paolo..."

And, with this fantasy, Nicola finally came.

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