Part 10 – Rocco and Carlo - The Conclusion
Rocco was lying alone in bed, gazing at the darken sky, through the large bay window in his bedroom. After several hours of reliving the past, he understood that he needed to slow down, relax, and get a bit of common sense into his mind. For years now, he had been on top of his game when it came to sex. The feelings deep inside Rocco floated throughout his body, reminding him that it was wonderful to be in demand and how remarkable it had been. Indeed, it was a great ride. Rocco didn't look for love, which was a good thing, because he was always in the wrong place to find it.
There were so many misconceptions in Rocco young life that he strained to remember how it all began. Rocco was a handsome young boy, beautiful in fact, as a teen ager. He had experienced scores of sexual encounters. There were too many affairs to attach a number to them.
Rocco was a star, and for him, people were his business. His way of life, so to speak. He learned at a young age, that flesh was a cool source of income. Occasionally he would find himself becoming attached to somebody and it scared him. So he would move on. Yes, he would run away. This foolish stardom warped him. He truly believed that he would never really fall in love.
However, Rocco was smart enough to see the signs, and realized something had to be done about it. He was mature and thought Sheldon had helped him come to terms with his feelings, as much as he hated to admit it. He stepped back and took a good look at himself. Believe it or not, Sheldon hadn't make one damn bit of difference. Nothing was lost. He was still a star.
Sheldon used Rocco in his mission to come across people and material things. You see, the older gentleman, (in part 9) with a billfold teeming with money, was in the bar looking for Rocco. He told Sheldon that he wanted to do business with Rocco.
That left Sheldon thinking about two choices.
-
Rocco was coming to meet Sheldon, and they would leave together.
-
Forget about Rocco. Go with the older gent himself and cut Rocco out of the picture.
Sheldon purposely choose an older gent with a gold watch and a billfold stuffed with cash, over a dinner date with Rocco. Hearing that, intense logic filled Rocco's head. He learned early on that money can turn perfectly nice people into demons. It was not very pretty for Rocco to see Sheldon in that light.
Rocco wasn't miffed or surprised. Instead, he was `pissed' for squandering his emotions on what he believed was the goddamned twilight zone. Rocco genuinely believed this was no time to play hustling games. It just wasn't a priority. But, then again, greed never is.
After that fateful day, Sheldon simply vanished from the scene. Rocco stopped thinking about him almost immediately. Rocco seldom mentioned his name again. This was Rocco's way of dealing with people. It was a tremendous mistake for Sheldon to abandon Rocco, but he was too greedy to know it. Who knows, maybe it was just ignorance.
Rocco stopped going to Randolph's apartment for fun and games. He was no longer on call for anybody, not even Randolph.
Rocco always performed with style. He was a 5 star act. He satisfied his clients anyway they wanted; but never hurt, cheated or hustled them. Rocco wasn't sure why he now thought `play for pay' was crap, but he did. Only, when he remembered the happiness and sexual pleasure he had given people who purchase it, was he okay.
Rocco saved a remarkable amount of money from his job as a call boy' - which is a much kinder word than whore,' What he once thought was a pretty amazing job, had lost its luster. So he saved cash like a miser. He used his wages from construction for living expenses. It was all good.
His job at the 911 Memorial came to an end. The museum opened in May of 2014 and construction workers were either terminated or sent to other locations. Rocco choose to be unemployed. For the first time, since moving to Manhattan, he was free from mind-blowing obligations and was finished being on call.
He tossed his cell into the Hudson River and bought a new one at Radio Shack. Only his family and friends would have this number. It was a bit dramatic, but Rocco fancied himself as the creator of his own destiny; so yes, it was dramatic.
It was the following week when Jeremy, his best friend and housemate, received sad news. His dad suffered a stroke and was in a hospital in Jersey City. Jeremy was beside himself with grief, because he was so close to his dad.
He took vacation time from his job, and prepared to go home to Jersey. For how long, would he be gone? - He just didn't know.
"How long are you going to be gone?" "Don't answer!!! - I'm going with you." said Rocco
"Thanks Rock, I was hoping you would say that."
"Of course..."
Jeremy's dad, Walter, was like a second father to Rocco. The boys relied on Walt for direction and even spending money for movies, comics and ice cream when they were just kids. Walt treasured the boys and was always there watching over them.
When Rocco and Jeremy were growing up, they were closer than blood brothers. Both boys were gay and fooled around since they were 12 years old exploring each other's body. They loved each other like family, but they were not in love. Their attraction was exploring sex, which they did very well. Fourteen years had whizzed by, and they were still looking out for one another and having great times naked in bed. They hooked up with men effortlessly. Still, they found the best sex was between them and they took care of each other often.
They packed just enough clothes, they thought they would need, and were on the path train to Jersey in no time flat. Once there, they went separate ways temporarily, but did meet up for hospital visits.
It felt foreign being back in Hoboken. Rocco borrowed his dad's truck and drove around his old stomping grounds trying to remember the good old days. Here he was once again - An Italian Jersey boy from Hoboken who lived gay, and passed for straight. His appeal was like a blazing sunset, on a warm summer night.
"Sure, what a bunch of crap that was" thought Rocco. The blaze on the sunset was faded, but at least the summer nights were still warm.
Rocco had changed all right. He was still incredibly handsome but the `sweet young thing' had matured into a real man. Rocco was worldly and knew how to read people. At least, he believed he did. After that farce with Sheldon, he learned much about phony personalities. Only time would tell.
He thought about his first construction job on the Jersey shore. And he thought about Carlo.
Carlo was a test for Rocco. Gay verses straight are rubbish and never amounts to anything.
"Damn, but Carlo was a lot of man." Rocco thought to himself, trying to remember his body. "Ah, what the fuck, I was 20 years old and full of myself. The west coast looked better to me, but that was a fuckin road to sicko land."
Rocco drove to the old construction site where he worked. It was barely recognizable. There were rows of housing that were built during the last 5 years. Everything he once knew was changed or gone. Even Carlo was no longer here, but of course, he knew that.
On the way back, Rocco stopped at a familiar diner called "The Blue Café."
He used to grab breakfast there, most mornings before going to work. Some of the other guys, on the job, ate there also. There was something wonderful about diner food and Rocco loved it. He liked the smell of bacon sizzling on the grill, and fresh baked Portuguese rolls still warm from the oven.
Rocco sat at a single table by the window. It had a blue and white checker tablecloth that almost touched the floor. It looked like they ran out of regular tablecloths and just threw something there to cover it. But it worked.
"What can I get cha, honey"? Said a petite dark haired young lady. She was obviously Italian, with a real Jersey accent.
"Let's see – how `bout tuna on whole wheat, no lettuce, skip the tomato and extra mayo" - and your telephone number" said Rocco joking with her.
"Sure, sure, I got it honey." "You want a tuna on whole wheat and leave off the junk." She replied laughing.
"That's it – and don't forget your telephone number.
"In your dreams handsome." she jokingly said to him. - Suddenly she stopped and called out. "... and to drink?"
"Coke."
"You got it," and disappeared behind the counter.
Rocco was sipping the coke waiting for the sandwich to arrive, when somebody sat down across from him.
"Do you mind if I sit here, Bonafetta? – You are Rocco, aren't you?"
"Yeah, and you...holy shit – Carlo" Where the fuck did you come from, man?"
"I was sitting over there when I saw you come in. It's been year's bro, but I would know you anyplace. Jesus dude, you look good. The years have been good to you. Ah, but you're still just a kid." Said Carlo.
Rocco never replied. He just stared at Carlo. He found it difficult to stop looking. Carlo was about 10 years his senior but what glorious years they were. Carlo was hunky, with a drop dead wild body. He had grown a beard and his coal black eyes and dark hair were straight from a sports magazine. He was rugged perfection. Just the sight of him in work jeans with a bulging package, was the look of ecstasy.
Finally Rocco said "I'm hardly a kid. I am 26 and you are 30 something"
"Thirty four next month," Carlo replied
The two of them sat chatting and talking about old times. Things were different. They were different. Years ago, when Rocco asked Carlo for sex, it was slutty and meaningless. Now Rocco just saw him as beautiful.
No one mentioned sex or spoke of anything gay what so ever. It was fine with Rocco. It was rewarding enough thinking Carlo still liked him as a friend...
Carlo told him that he was separated from his wife. She had moved to Florida and the girls were in boarding school. He was living by himself and started his own construction company. It was on a small scale, but at least he was making money and was his own boss.
Rocco spoke about his crazy adventures and left very little out. He did tweak his construction work a little. He wanted to impress Carlo by working at the freedom tower site. I don't believe it worked however. Carlo wasn't impressed.
The tuna sandwich finally arrived and Rocco offered half of it to Carlo.
"Here eat!!" said Rocco
"Oh, no, no, no."
C'mon, you don't sit with a pisan and no eat."
"Okay"
"Yeah, you betcha, okay." Rocco said to him with a special look in his eye.
They sat munching on the sandwich and never stopped looking at each other. It's a good thing the diner was not filled with people because they looked like a couple of butch queers. Not faggy by any means – just odd. Rocco stared at him and noticed something in his eyes that he had never seen before. It was nice.
Rocco felt a hand on his knee under the tablecloth. Carlo had reached over and touched him. From pure reaction, Rocco put his hand under the table and their fingers touched. Carlo held Rocco's fingers like a teenager reaching for his girlfriend's hand in a movie theatre. He squeezed Rocco's hand ever so gently.
Electricity shot through them. Not just one, but both of them. Rocco squeezed Carlo's hand again and rested it on his knee. He mentally rejoiced as it happened.
"Do you want to go out with me? Carlo asked
"You mean, like a date?"
"Yes, like a date."
"No sex."
"Yup, no sex."
"Sure, that would be fun to do?" Rocco replied
"Good. I'm not the sex hound you once knew. I want to get to know you, all over again."
"You do?"
"Sure as hell do." Carlo answered
"Where do you want to go?" Rocco asked
"A fag bar."
"What the hell for? It's not the best idea. You know damn well, we'll get hit on."
"So what." Carlo replied
"I can handle getting hit on, but I don't know about you."
Then, maybe we should go somewhere, like a deserted road, and make love to each other." Carlo replied.
"I thought you were not interested in things like that."
"With you I am. It sounds like the perfect date. Don't you like deserted roads?" Asked Carlo.
"It does sound better than dinner or some stupid movie."
They continued chatting for a while and Carlo had to leave. He had a job to finish. They exchanged numbers and Carlo said he would contact him.
"Can I get you some dessert, honey? Asked the waitress who seemed to appear out of nowhere.
"No, just the check."
"Where did your friend Carlo go?" She asked
"Do you know Carlo?" Rocco quizzed her
"Lord yes, doll. Everybody around here knows Carlo. Honey, you can't look like that and not be noticed."
"I guess then, I don't get your number, huh?" Said Rocco, being comical but talking very masculine.
"You are a persistent little devil - but no." The waitress giggled and walked away. She liked Rocco flirting with her, even though it was just in fun.
Rocco got a sudden text from Carlo. It read. "I just passed a deserted road, it looks perfect" He ran his finger across the words and smiled as a rush of adrenalin soared through his body.
Rocco had barely reached his parent's home, when Carlo sent another message. "Pick you up at 7:00, dinner is on me. I know the address"
Rocco typed back..."Is this plain or fancy?"
"Plain – very plain. Beer and fish and chips" replied Carlo.
"Well, you can't get much plainer than that." Rocco thought to himself.
Rocco showered, shaved and put on clean but simple clothes. He smelled like delicious soap. He wore tailored tan khaki pants, adjusting his cock to a noticeable bulge, and a lime green tee shirt. The shirt stretched over his broad chest and he looked hot, masculine and available.
He brought a glass of ice tea with him outside to wait for Carlo. He sat on the large stone steps and looked at his watch. It was 7:00 pm
Carlo's truck came roaring and stopped in front of Rocco. He left the tea on the steps and hopped into the truck next to Carlo.
Not much was said at first. It looked like two buddies going someplace in a pick-up truck, and nothing more.
"I'm going to stop at the "Shrimp Shack" and pick up a couple of orders of fish and chips that I have ordered to go." Said Carlo.
The Shrimp Shack was a local fish and chips joint. The food was mostly take out. It certainly was not fancy, but the quality in seafood, was superb.
"Okay" Said Rocco
"And then..." Continued Carlo
"Then, what? Asked Rocco.
"Then, we can go to my house or eat in the truck. If you rather, we can go to a sit down restaurant and act like normal people." "What do you prefer?"
"Let's not act like normal people, let's go to your house." Said Rocco. And he reached over and touched Carlo's leg.
Carlo looked awesome wearing tight denim jeans, covering that one of a kind' crotch, and a white tee shirt that said, Carlo Construction' on the front of it. One could see faint tuffs of black chest hair under the neck line of the shirt. God, he was so masculine.
The adjectives haven't been written yet to describe him properly. His muscles bulged in his arms and his stomach was rock hard. This mate was everyman's dream and Rocco knew it.
Rocco's heart was racing. He tried to dismiss it, but he wasn't strong enough to do it. There were too many memories to dismiss. Strangely enough, Carlo was having the same reaction. They were just waiting for the right moment to tear away at each other.
Rocco picked up the two fish dinners and plunked them down in the back of the truck. They didn't give a hoot about fish and chips. What they wanted was wild passionate sex.
Carlo drove directly to his house, with one hand on the wheel and the other touching Rocco.
C'mon, said Carlo, as he unlocked the kitchen door and led Rocco into the house.
"Damn, we forget the fish and chips. They are in the back of the pickup. Said Carlo
"I'll get them. Replied Rocco
"Yeah, you do that and I'll grab the beer."
When Rocco returned, Carlo was standing in the kitchen bare chested. He had removed his tee shirt and his chest, pecs and abs looked bionic.
Rocco, almost dropped the two plates, but set them down very quickly. He pulled his green tee shirt off over his head and exposed his chest to Carlo. Rocco was no slouch, by any means. His body was on par with Carlo but not quite as muscular. He was picture perfect to look at and even better to touch..
Carlo drew Rocco close and held him lovingly. Their chest touched and seemed to melt in unison. Rocco could feel his heart beating in tune with Carlo. They merged together like one beating heart.
Carlo placed his hands on each side of Rocco's face and stared into his dark Italian eyes. Then he did something, very unbecoming to Carlo. He kissed Rocco on the mouth and hung on for dear life. Never, did he feel so hungry for someone's lips.
They kept kissing and kissing, swapping spit and licking each other's tongues. These men were becoming so hot, that the hands on the clock stood still. This was a moment in time, not to be forgotten.
Carlo went to the bedroom with Rocco following like his shadow.
How Carlo had changed was mind-boggling. The arrogant swaying tough guy actually had a loving side to his personality. Rocco assumed he had it all along, but never express it with Sophia. The problem was, he had to be with the right person. Rocco thought that maybe he was that person.
Nothing could be as deliciously naughty as this. Rocco was in heaven, or at least close to it, and still be alive. Sure enough, Rocco soon began to feel warm lust flood through him.
Carlo was on his knees and tearing away at Rocco's pants. They came off very quickly and Carlo wasted no time engulphing Rocco's cock into his mouth. It started to grow larger and larger, which Rocco didn't think was possible. Carlo choked and drooled saliva, but wouldn't give up the treasure he was devouring.
There was no way Rocco could hold off like he wanted to, and he bellowed like a dog in heat, as he began to spew his load of creamy milk into Carlo's throat.
Carlo never withdrew from Rocco. Instead he put his both arms around Rocco's bare legs and butt. He held him so tight that he couldn't move away, and made love to his cock as it began to soften inside his warm mouth.
He eventually let Rocco loose and the two of them laid side by side breathing hard and touching each other.
"What just happened? Asked Rocco.
"You just shot a load of cock cream into my mouth."...and, don't fuckin say `sorry."
"I won't. - Did you like it?" Asked Rocco
"I swallowed it, didn't I? - Of course, I liked it and I will always like it. It is you."
"Fuck me Carlo."
"We're both tops brother. I may hurt you."
"You use to fuck me years ago." Said Rocco.
"That's because, I was a wise ass bully, and treated you like a slut. But it's different now."
"What's different?"
"I understand more than I did in those days. Rocco, you are a step above class and should be treated so. Definitely my opinion. I've screwed a lot of women, in my time, but none, including Sophia, could compare with you. I am the happiest just being with you. Inside or outside your body, it doesn't matter, because it is you. Does that make any sense? Carlo asked.
"Yes, I think it does."
Rocco pulled Carlo close to him and placed Carlo's hand on his butt. He knew this would please him, and that was what he wanted to do. "Fuck me bro," said Rocco.
It was like looking into the eyes of an angel. Rocco cried and instinctively threw his arms around his man's neck to hang on for the ride. Rocco whimpered as Carlo's entire cock was slowly push into his bottom. It hurt like hell at first, but Rocco wanted it. There was something special about it. This was more than just getting fucked and Rocco knew it.
Carlo began to breathe heavily as the steady pace of the fucking continued along with the shock waves that kept getting stronger and stronger going through Rocco's masculine frame.
"You like my cock in your butt don't you?" Carlo asked.
"Yes! - Fuck me -Fuck me!" Rocco wailed.
"Okay, My precious fuck! Oh yeah!" Carlo exclaimed, and began to pound Rocco's butt so hard that his groin was smacking his butt cheeks and his whole muscular body was shaking with every thrust.
Getting fucked was no longer painful for Rocco. His tight butt hole held on to Carlo's cock giving him a magnificent ride. Carlo rolled Rocco on his side and continued to fuck his hard ass. Then, he grabbed hold of him, and pulled him off of the bed, and draped him over the arm of the stuffed chair in the bedroom.
He continued to fuck Rocco "doggie style" again, shaking his head from side to side and wailing at the ceiling like a man ready to explode. There was no way he could stop fucking now. He was so wrapped up being inside his mate that he stopped thinking and just fucked the hell out of him.
It wasn't long before Carlo flooded Rocco's butt with life giving cream from his heavy balls that Rocco worshipped and adored. He was wet with love juice and wanted to hold Carlo's cum inside him for as long as possible.
"Okay, Rock. We each have cum inside us now. I think we are connected."
"I think so," answered Rocco.
They held each other tightly and licked their chest like two pussy cats after a rainstorm. Carlo nibbled on Rocco's nose and sucked his ear. It was comical to watch this macho stud acting like a teen age girl. He was so attached to Rocco and would do almost anything to please him. Rocco felt the very same way and told that to Carlo. They clicked like it was impossible to do.
The sex was loving and more deliberate than it ever had been before. They spent the entire evening making love, and trying things that they wanted to do to each other.
On Saturday morning, Rocco told Carlo that he was returning to Manhattan with Jeremy. Walt was home now and being rehabilitated, after having his stroke. He was doing well and that was good.
"You can't leave me, Rock" – Carlo pleaded
"You could always come back with us," Rocco said.
"I can't leave my business. And besides, what would I do in New York. I'm a Jersey boy, and so are you Rocco."
"Stay with me Rock. We are good for each other."
"I will come back. I am not leaving you. But I owe it to Jeremy to go back with him. We are like brothers and we have been there for one another all of our lives." Please understand. Begged Rocco
"I do.- okay, go – go" exclaimed Carlo, waving his hand, like an Italian mother shooing the children out of the kitchen.
Later that day, Rocco and Jeremy returned to Manhattan. It was a short distance from the station, to the apartment, so they walked.
It felt good being back in New York, but Rocco's heart was aching for Carlo. He could think of nothing else.
"I'm going back." Rocco told Jeremy
"You should. He loves you."
"He never told me that." Replied Rocco.
"Maybe, he assumed that you just knew it. You know how Italian men can be. Jeremy commented.
"I do. I am that way myself." Rocco answered.
"So there. Cheer the fuck up."
Rocco's feelings for Carlo were too intense and by far the most amazing that he had ever had. If he were destine to be with Carlo, then he knew this was surely his addiction. Though it started as a simple hook up and friendship, it had turned into something much deeper. Who knows, perhaps for the rest of his life. Rocco, with all his intelligence, was terribly confused.
They arrived back at the apartment and Jeremy brewed some coffee. He was about to make sandwiches, when a knock came to the door.
"Just what I don't need", said Jeremy. "I think it's Ray and I have no time for him right now.
"I'll get it." Rocco shouted.
Rocco opened the door, expecting to see Ray. But instead, Carlo was standing there.
"I love you." said Carlo
"Carlo, how did you get here?" Asked Rocco.
"I love you." Carlo said repeating himself. – "I love you."
He reached for Rocco and kissed him feverishly standing in the doorway. They clung to each other like wounded soldiers. Carlo wiped a tear away from Rocco's eye and held him close.
"You're mine – all mine" Carlo said over and over again to Rocco.
"Yes - Yes, replied Rocco. I cannot think straight. I love you more than anyone could." "I love you – I really love you."
Carlo came into the apartment and the three of them, Jeremy, Rocco and Carlo, sat together talking, eating sandwiches and drinking coffee.
I took the same train when you left Hoboken, and followed you. A guy named Ray let me into the building downstairs. Carlo told them.
"You know, I love this guy Rocco so much, that I hurt inside when I cannot be with him" Carlo said to Jeremy.
"For sure, the gorgeous fucker, I love him too". Jeremy blurted out -. Rocco is such a beautiful man, and you mates belong together."
"I know." Answered Carlo. "That's what I told him."
"Rocco is so lucky to have you Carlo. I'm jealous." Said Jeremy
"Why's that?"
"Phew, what a hunk you are. Gays are just not that lucky to love somebody like you. Holy shit – talk about special." - "Who wouldn't be jealous?" said Jeremy.
"Thanks, but I look at it the other way around." Carlo answered.
"Well, all I can say is that `beauty goes to beauty.' end of story." blurted out Jeremy.
The following morning Rocco left New York City with Carlo. His wandering days had come to an end. They boarded the train for Hoboken, with a rainbow of light surrounding them. At long last, Rocco was in love and he was going home.
As they grew older, sex was still amazing but more relaxed, and less frantic than the earlier times had been. It wasn't a matter of getting off, as much as it was just being together. These were the times that Carlo and Rocco treasured the most.
The End
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