In the following story, all of the characters are totally fictive and the setting is real. For whomever it would be illegal, immoral or prohibited for any other reason whatsoever to read a story about love between two young men is kindly requested to refrain from continuing. A free picture album illustrating this story (pdf) is available upon request at maringiustinian@gmail.com. Please remember to help Nifty stay online by sending your contributions. This being said, I hope you enjoy the tale.
SAMOTHRACE AWAKENING
by Marin Giustinian
Ireland, northeastern Greece, and Venice, Italy, 2018
For Dara Cavanah's graduation from Dublin's Belvedere Jesuit high school for boys, his parents granted him a two weeks holiday trip to visit northeastern Greece and see the homeland of his historical hero, Alexander the Great.
Just for memory, Alexander the Great was born in 356 BC and died at the age of 32. This outstanding young king of Macedon conquered an empire stretching from Athens to Afghanistan. He was raised in his father's palace in Pella and, until the age of sixteen, was the pupil of the famous philosopher, Aristotle.
So getting back to Dara, on July 9, 2018, the robust eighteen year old graduate, boarded the direct flight out of Dublin International Airpot, destination Athens! His plump lips had never smiled so much in a very long time, making his round, smooth face radiate. As they flew, Dara gazed out the window, hardly believing that Great Britain, then France, followed by the Italian Alps and the parade of islands down the Adriatic coast were there beneath him. They landed on time. Dara took the bus into the city and checked in at the Pagrati Youth hostel. He spent two days visiting the Acropolis and the museums. Then he flew over to Thessaloniki, found a bunk in the Crossroads Hostel and continued visiting museums there. Two days later he took the bus to the small town of Pella, the birthplace of his idol, Alexander.
He found an inexpensive hotel room, explored the small museum and discovered countless legends about Alexander's youth, about his coronation at the age of twenty, after his father, King Philip, had been stabbed by one of his guards. Now king himself and threatened, Alexander immediately took things in hand and had all of his rivals immediately killed. He also quashed several small rebellions that were popping up throughout the kingdom. Once his power was established, accompanied by his companion and lover, Hephaestion, they set out to conquer as much of Greece as possible, then Persia and beyond. The relationship between Alexander and Hephaestion intrigued Dara. In the very Catholic private school where he had studied, the homoerotic dimension of ancient Greek culture was simply condemned by his teachers as being a pagan sickness.
After thoroughly visiting Pella, Dara took the bus to the city of Alexandroupoli. He arrived the afternoon of July 15 and checked in at the Vergina Hotel on the port. From his room, he had a view of Samothrace floating on the horizon. He was immediately captivated.
Dara recalled what the two Danish fellows he met in Thessaloniki told him about the island of Samothrace. They said they were returning for the second time. They told him that it was a kind of hot-spot for the new-age, esoteric, post-hippy young people. There, the nature was wild, the waterfalls were abundant, the forests were dense, and the deserted remote beach of Vatos was great for anybody who wanted to swim and camp in the nude. To top it off, they said that there was a very special energetic vibration inside the ruins of the famous Sanctuary of the Great Gods, stipulating that strange initiation rites used to be held there, drawing people from all over the Roman Empire.
In the hotel lobby, there was a free brochure about Samothrace. By simple curiosity, he picked it up and took it to his room. In the brochure he found the timetable of the Soas Ferry going there. There was no airport on Samothrace, therefore few tourists. The ferry was the only link to the mainland. He discovered that there was a small hostel in the town of Therma, restaurants, busses, and of course, the Sanctuary of the Great Gods.
That evening, he decided he could skip the museum in Alexandroupoli and spend the days he had left on Samothrace. He could leave on the 8 AM ferry the following day. His non-exchangeable flight out of Alexandroupoli left only the following Monday. He was going to give himself five days of unprecedented, unplanned freedom -- for the first time in his life!
The following morning, arriving at the ferry landing, Dara noticed a slim young man, with shaggy dirty blond hair like his. He watched the lad as he rolled up a sleeping bag. Obviously he had spent the night under the stars on a bench. Dara noticed that even though he wore only a pair of very short shots and a sleeveless T-shirt, he was quite refined, even distinguised. Dara almost felt like a country bumpkin, admiring the fellow. Dara was used to sizing up other boys having spent all of his schooling in a boys only boarding school. As he went into the ticket office, he uttered to himself, "I'd have been scared to death to sleep outdoors. Not only is the guy good looking, but he's got balls to boot!"
Dara's spirits were high, the weather was perfect. A few vaporous clouds clung to the mountain top of Samothrace, visible in all of its mysterious morning splendour.
As the ship pulled away from the quay, Dara felt a rush of mixed emotions. A kind of a slightly erotic tingle warmed his crotch, accompanied by total surrender as he faced the wind, completely aware of his present existence. Instead of it being him going to the island, he felt as if the island was coming to him, calling him.
The passengers were noisily filling up the stairwell to disembark as the ferry eased into the harbour of Kamariotissa, Samothracki's port town. The ship bumped into the stone quay making Dara and a few others trip or lose balance. With his rucksack on his back, Dara slightly fell on the rucksack of the young man in front of him.
"Sorry!"
The fellow turned his head saying, "No problem."
Dara recognised the lad he had seen earlier, rolling up his sleeping bag. They exchanged a smile. Dara had never seen such an open fair face and big blue eyes like that.
Once ashore, Dara rushed over to the tourist office. The same young man was queueing up there too. He smiled, saying, "You again! Hi, my name's Andrea, Andrea Loredan. I'm Italian -- from Venice, and you?"
Dara beamed, blushed a little and replied, "Dara Cavanah, Irish, from Kilcock, near Dublin. Pleased to meet you."
"I'm going to try to book a bunk in the hostel over in Therma. I heard it's decent and the bus service is rather regular," stated Andrea.
"Me too!" exclaimed Dara, showing Andrea the photo of the hostel in the brochure he had.
"Nice, looks okay... I hope there's space for us a night or two."
"Excuse me, but for an Italian, your English is fantastic!"
Andrea smiled, "My mum's from Windsor. My father's Venetian -- he's very busy handling the family's real estate. I don't live exactly in Venice. Our home is on Torcello Island, north of the city, in the laguna and there's always English kin to my mother staying over. I guess I've spoken nearly as much English as I have Italian and Venetian. Normal for us..."
"I should speak Gaelic, however in Dubin nobody speaks it. My dad's a master distiller for Irish whiskey but I don't drink!" laughed Dara.
They were able to book their bunks in a room for six, take a timetable, and go outside to find the bus stop.
"Do you plan to visit the Sanctuary of the Great Gods while you're here?" asked Andrea.
"Yes, it's on my list."
"You have a list?" exclaimed Andrea, surprised.
"I hadn't planned to come over, but some Danes in Thessaloniki told me about Samothrace, so when I found this brochure at the hotel in Alexandroupoli, I decided to come. After reading the brochure, I made a list. I like lists. I like to prepare things as much as possible."
"Interesting... I never make lists. I take what comes. Look, Dara, I see that if we stop over at the Sanctuary, we could have two hours between busses to visit the site. We've paid our reservations for tonight, so there's no rush to get to the hostel. I'm going to visit it now. Do you want to come with me and cross it off your list?"
Dara felt good in Andrea's company.
"Thanks, Andrea. That's a good idea!"
Andrea patted him on the shoulder. The bus pulled up. The passengers scrambled out and Andrea asked the driver if they could wait inside the bus until departure time. The driver nodded and they climbed aboard.
They left their sacks on the baggage rack behind the driver's seat and took place in the first seats.
Andrea then asked, "What made you come all the way to Greece by yourself?"
"I graduated from high school three weeks ago. My parents wanted to give me a gift and said that they could either buy me a new computer or pay for a trip. I chose the trip. I was a boarder in school, all the time with guys around. I needed some time on my own. I'm trying to figure out what I really want to do later on..."
"Cool," politely replied Andrea.
Dara continued, in a more impersonal way,
"I'm fascinated by ancient history, and especially by Alexander the Great. I wanted to see the land he came from."
Dara talked about his stopovers in Athens, then in Thessaloniki, Pella, and when he arrived in Alexandroupoli ahead of schedule, he decided on Samothrace for his last remaining days.
"My return ticket leaves from Alexandroupoli on July 23. And you, how did you get here?"
"For people like me who live in Venice, summer is atrocious. The place is overflowing with tourists milling everywhere, clogging the streets, leaving their trash as they wander, getting lost all the time. They even find their way to Torcello! My mum said she didn't need me hanging around and wanted me to go anywhere to rest up after two years full time in Milano -- I studied perfumery in Milano, but now I've got my diploma -- so she gave me a credit card and told me get away somewhere, breathe fresh air, and have fun. So I chose to come here. I heard about Vatos beach on Samothrace from friends in Milano. No cars can get there, there's fresh water flowing down from the mountain, and there's a boat that can leave you there if the weather permits... So I decided to try Vatos, sleep in my little tent, and tan my rear during the day, and I wouldn't refuse to make new friends..."
"The Danish guys told me that things could get really wild here."
"I've heard that too, but I'm not into drugs, and electro is not my kind of music. They say Vatos isn't like that. It's a cool nudist hot-spot so to speak. Ha!"
"When do you go there?"
"Day after tomorrow. I want to buy my food, go to a good 'taverna' for some decent meals, and then leave for Vatos. Why don't you come with me? My tent's big enough for two!"
"Wow! That's really sudden. Are you always spontaneous like that?"
"When I feel like it, yes!"
"I've never been to a clothes optional place before..."
"When I was a teen -- I'm twenty by the way -- with some schoolmates, we'd row over to Cura Island, pitch our tents, fuck around and live in the nude as long as the mosquitoes didn't swarm us. You'll see. It's great to forget you're ball free in the breeze!"
"I suppose so", uttered Dara, thinking, and then exclaimed, "We only live once, don't we! Andrea, I'd be thrilled to discover Vatos with you!"
The bus pulled off, next stop, the Sanctuary.
The Sanctuary was indeed very impressive. A hush of sacredness reigned over the ruins. A small museum welcomed the visitors, giving them a better idea of where they were, what made the site so famous, and several suppositions as to what actually happened there. The rituals were secret. There are very few approximate descriptions remaining.
The several acres of ruins attested the presence of a very large temple complex capable of receiving a great number of pilgrims. Worship in the sanctuary began around the eighth century before Christ and ended in the fourth century after Christ.
The complex was never converted to Christian worship. In spite of the fact that Saint Paul had stopped there during his second voyage, obviously the power of the pagan presence, still lingering in the air today, rendered such a change impossible.
Amongst the other pieces of sculpture unearthed in the site, there was the famous Winged Victory of Samothrace, now in the Louvre Museum of Paris. The others were in Athens, and their copies on exhibit in the small museum in the Sanctuary itself.
Dara and Andrea were lucky. A temporary exhibit on the theme of Initiation had opened only two weeks before their visit. They decided to visit it after roaming around on the grounds of the Sanctuary.
There were few vestiges still standing, several columns, a platform here and there, a stone circle. Nonetheless, the atmosphere was there. Andrea and Dara stayed close, as if they were drawn together. However they barely spoke. Often they would glance at each other, smile, and continue their contemplative discovery of the ruins.
"Dara, if we want to see the temporary exhibit, we must go now."
"I could wander here for hours. It's not like anyplace else I've seen. Do you feel the power of this place?"
"Yes, it's overwhelming. Let's go to the exhibit".
There were few objects on display, however some were astounding. Two in particular seized their attention. There was the stylised head of a very beautiful youth sculpted in bluish stone. The serenity of his expression, the delicate portrayal of the lips, the eyes, the nostrils made both lads stare in admiration.
Dara glanced at Andrea, then back at the head, and stated, "Andrea, this face is almost as beautiful as yours..."
Andrea smiled; Dara blushed, suddenly realising what he had just said.
"Your looks are not like his. They're even better!" exclaimed Andrea, nudging Dara on the shoulder.
Dara blushed even more.
The second object that made them stop was a painting on a ceramic disc of an initiatic scene of sodomy. Two bearded men, nude and erect, held a youth in the air, one by the legs, placing them over his shoulders, and the other held the smiling intiate by his chest and armpit. The youth, equally erect, looked impatient to be penetrated by the man lifting his thighs. With one arm he held on to the neck of the other, and with his free hand, he fondled the man's very erect cock. The painting was calmly erotic, not stressful, nor violent. What they were going to do seemed to be quite peaceful as they were on their way to enjoy very intense pleasure. Obviously the men were welcoming the youth into manhood, initiating him in a way that the ancient Greeks considered natural.
Andrea commented, "Lucky fellow. They look really cool fucking and getting fucked."
Dara nearly gasped realising what he was looking at. Andrea's calm statement shook him even more to the extent that he uttered, almost shocked, "That's so sinful... It's sick... It's against nature!"
Andrea laughed out loud and quipped back, "Man! That IS nature!"
"But..."
Andrea interrupted, "I know what you're going to say! You must have been in a Catholic boarding school for boys weren't you?"
Dara nodded, still upset.
"I know about how Christian religions treat sex. That's what's sick, man! It's sinfully sick. Not the sex. Sex is nature in the flesh and everything in nature is natural!"
"But... but I was told that sex should only be done by a man and a woman in the sacred bonds of marriage."
"Bullshit!"
"Do you have sex, Andrea?"
"Sure! I've had sex with girls, boys, men. I mostly like sex with guys my age. Girls are a bore and the men I've been with are mostly perverts. And you? Be honest!"
Andrea took a deep breath, looked at the painting and whispered, "A priest made me suck his dick when I was thirteen. I was flattered but a bit disgusted, confused... I mean... I don't know what I mean."
"I understand..." softly replied Andrea, "and girls?"
"Girls don't interest me at all. I'm sorry, Andrea but I'm still a virgin!"
"Why are you sorry? If you want sex, you do it. If you don't want sex, you don't do. Let's hurry or we'll miss the bus."
Nothing more was said about sex.
They claimed their reservations and were given each a bunk in a room with four other boys, three French and Chuck, an American college student travelling alone. With Chuck they went out to find a taverna for dinner. After having enjoyed fish and a tall pitcher of retsina wine, Chuck, a bit drunk, asked, "You two, are you together, I mean like really together?"
Andrea glanced at Dara and answered with very open smile, "Not yet..."
Dara choked on his wine. Chuck laughed, replying, "Cool! That's so Greek... you know like in frat houses and stuff... I'm leaving tomorrow. Hope you guys have fun."
Andrea replied, "Thanks, Chuck!" and then looked with questioning eyes at Dara.
"When I said 'Not yet' did I shock you?"
Dara shrugged, smiled, and winked, "Not really..."
The following morning they showered and shaved together discreetly checking each other out. As they were dressing, Andrea dowsed himself with a very spicy fragrance.
"That smells heavenly, Andrea!"
"Want some? I made it myself."
"You mean you actually made that?"
"Don't you remember? I told you that perfumery's going to be my job."
"That's right... I'd really like to see how it feels to wear some on myself. My brothers reek of Aqua Velva. Your cologne smells so elegant."
"It's not cologne nor after shave, Dara. It's 'profumo per uomo', perfume for men. I know, my mum told me, that in the British Isles and even in America, perfume is a female thing. For us, it's a civilised thing. I guess it's just a question of who's the most refined..."
Dara felt like a prince as Andrea rubbed some of his 'profumo' in the nook of his neck.
They both were stunningly handsome as they went into town and bought provisions. They stopped by the harbour and were assured that the boat was leaving the following day, taking tourists around the island. The captain said they always made a stop at Vatos.
Dara and Andrea finished the morning in the same 'taverna' enjoying a very copious lunch. They then decided to take a stroll into the woods, along the stream leading up to several small waterfalls and pools.
They found a secluded shady spot by the water and sat down side by side.
"I'm really enjoying doing what we're doing together, you and I, Andrea," calmly stated Dara, looking at his feet.
"Me too... I guess it's in our destiny somewhere to be here together. It's rather improbable when I think about it. An Irish virgin with a Venetian homo finding each other on a Greek island and enjoying being together," declared Andrea.
"Shut up about me being a virgin!" giggled Dara.
"And you say nothing about me being a cocksucking bum-fucker?"
"I don't mind cocksuckers, Andrea. I used to be one myself. Remember?"
"That's right... Let's cool off in the water. Want to join me?"
Dara didn't answer. He simply stood and began stripping, beaming from ear to ear.
In a flash they were stark naked ball deep in the crystalline pool. Dara exclaimed, "I've got an idea!" He waded over to the little waterfall. Andrea watched.
Dara faced the waterfall and straddled the flow. He fell a bit forward, catching himself with his hands on the rocks, and let his semi-hard cock dangle in the rushing water. Andrea laughed and joined him. They laughed like mad as they leaned, side against side together with their rock hard cocks dancing up and down, enjoying a very intimate hydro-massage.
"You have the weirdest ideas, Dara! This is fabulous! Our cocks have never been cleaner!"
"I know!" giggled Dara, winking at Andrea.
As they waded back to where they had left their clothes, Dara asked, "Do you think we can stay naked for a while, you know, just by ourselves?"
"I don't think there's any problem..."
"Andrea?" asked, looking at the water.
"What?"
Still looking at the water, he stated, "I want to suck your cock."
"Will you let me suck yours too?"
Dara, smiled at Andrea, softly saying, "With pleasure!"
The scene they reenacted could have illustrated a bucolic Greek poem of the past: Two handsome ephebes, lying side by side head to tail in the fresh grass beside a glittering stream, joyfully sucking each other's cock. As they drooled, sucking, blowing each other's perfect cocks, they hummed, clawing buttocks, gently writhing. They became more impatient, sucking harder, coaxing their rewards. Then flowed the creamy offerings their bodies and souls gave to each other, quenching that very special kind of thirst.
"Wow, that was good!" sighed Dara, rolling over on his back, licking his lips.
Andrea hummed, "Your cum, Dara, is delicious."
Dara, replied, "And yours is like chantilly and honey."
"Better than what the priest shot into your mouth?" teased Andrea.
"Bastard!" barked back Dara, grabbing Andrea, and mercilessly tickling him as they rolled together back into the stream.
Sitting in the water, Andrea and Dara were still giggling when they heard applause coming from the path above. Three ladies, hiking together were clapping, their faces illuminated with smiles. Without the slightest gesture to cover their cocks, the boys stood, held hands, and gracefully bowed, both glittering wet, ankle deep in the sunbeams.
That evening they picnicked on the beach. Dara asked Andrea to tell him about the art of perfumery. As Andrea described in detail the process of distilling essences, sampling, combining their fragrances, Dara listened, fascinated.
"Andrea, remember that my father is a master distiller of Irish whiskey. I know how stills work."
"You know how to run one?"
"More or less... "
"Let's go turn in. The first one awake wakes the other."
"Before we go, just one question."
"I'm listening," replied Andrea, touching Dara's cheek.
"Am I still a virgin?"
"A little less!" exclaimed Andrea laughing, "We've still got a lot to learn from each other."
Amongst the tourists boarding the converted fishing boat for day cruises, Andrea and Dara were the only ones with rucksacks on their backs. They left the port behind and headed east. The forest on the northern side became stone cliffs as they rounded the cape. Turning south, there was no longer a road. The barren, scarcely wooded side of Samothrace glowed in the noonday sun. After about two hours of slow navigation, the boat eased up on Vatos Beach. There were several people gathered with their backpacks. Others, completely naked, were laying on the beach, swimming, or angling, standing in the shallows. Smoke was rising from the trees a further bit inland. A tiny stream of freshwater fed a pool dammed by the pebbles and stones forming a small seawall behind the strand.
The captain installed a narrow gangway from the bow. Dara and Andrea went ashore. Six or seven campers ashore boarded the boat. The captain then delivered several boxes of food to the naked boys and girls waiting at the foot of the gangway. They handed him money and food lists for the following day. Once the gangway was up, they backed off the beach to continue the tour.
Dara and Andrea looked around, hardly believing where they were. Following the stream of fresh water tumbling down from the mountains towering above, they entered a kind of oasis where small trees scattered here and there offered shade. They chose a place under a low tree. It had been recently abandoned. The stone fire ring was clean, the ground was flat.
"Would this place suit you for our little home, Dara?"
"Perfectly! Secluded enough for our privacy and close enough to the water too."
Andrea and Dara pitched the tent, stashed their sacks and supplies, stripped, and smeared sun screen all over each other's body. Then they headed for the beach, holding hands. Several of the other campers smiled, some shouted their greetings. The afternoon flew by swimming, sunbathing, chatting with several other girls and boys. Dara was impressed over how easy it was for Andrea to talk with people. He spoke in Italian, in French, and even knew a few phrases in German. All in all, the population of Vatos was about twenty to twenty-five. There were a few adults, more or less in their thirties, most of the others were young people with a majority of males in various states of arousal.
Dara and Andrea rapidly became used to enjoying their nudity, feeling free with themselves, admiring each other as well. They glowed, and judging from the smiles they received, their joy was quite obvious.
Towards the end of the afternoon, the sun went down behind the mountain. The temperature dropped a little. Andrea hugged Dara and whispered, "I'm hungry."
"Me too, let's go eat."
On their way to the tent, they rinsed off in the fresh water pool. Back at their camp, they spread a duvet at the foot of the tree, sat, and dined on goat cheese, bread, and grapes. The bottle of wine was enjoyed also.
They stretched out on the cover side by side, their shoulders touching, their feet playing together.
"I'm afraid I'm dreaming, Andrea! All of this is almost too beautiful."
"You're almost too beautiful yourself, and we are not dreaming. Look, there's a big fat moon rising over the water and it's not even dark. Soon there's going to be a shiny road of moonlight for our hearts to dance on. Let's go watch."
They jogged back down to the beach, found a good place to sit, leaning in on each other facing the majestic sight of the silvery moon climbing into the warm twilight.
The urge to kiss became irresistible. Andrea nibbled Dara's neck. Dara giggled, turned his head and pressed his plump lips on Andrea's opening mouth. As they kissed, they fell back on the sand, and enlaced their legs as their erections softly pressed together, moving ever so gently.
"Let's go back to the tent, Andrea," stuttered Dara, his voice hoarse with lust.
Andrea simply rose, and took Dara by the hand. Once again they rinsed the sand off in the pool, and with their cocks and balls bobbing, they ran and crawled into the tent laughing. They rolled and rollicked, grabbing each other's sex, licking and kissing mouths, pits, tits and navels. Then Dara pinned Andrea under him and beamed, saying, "Can we do what the initiates were doing in the painting we saw in the Sanctuary museum?"
"Do you really want that?"
"I need to know! You said we've got a lot to learn. Now is the time! If I asked it's because I'm sure! Can we do it?"
"Which way? You in me or me in you?"
"You in me! I want you to lose yourself and shoot your cum deep inside me, make me yours!"
"Okay, but promise that when I'm done, you'll fuck me too."
"Promise!" exclaimed Dara, splaying his legs.
Andrea sucked his index finger and began caressing Dara's winking sphincter. Then he licked it. Dara moaned. As Dara's anus began to dilate, Andrea inserted his finger, leaning over kissing Dara. As Andrea massaged the prostate gland, Dara whimpered, gasped, breathless, "Good God! Good God! Deeper!"
Andrea inserted a second finger into Dara. He panted, "Fuck me! Good God, fuck me!"
Andrea seized the sunscreen and slathered his cock. He then squirted some into Dara. With Dara's knees draped over his shoulders, Andrea placed the tip of his glans, ready to enter. Dara was writhing so much that Andrea had to hold him steady as he pushed, entering little by little. Dara no longer moved.
"Relax, Dara, let me in."
Suddenly Andrea's glans popped in. Dara gasped, grabbed Andrea's buttocks and pulled.
"Yessssss!" hissed Dara, staring wide-eyed at Andrea, his mouth agape.
Dara began to rock his arse to and fro. Andrea in and out. Their rhythm was perfectly synchronised together. They began to accelerate. Dara was squealing, laughing, panting. Andrea hummed, grunted. Both were sweating. When Dara grabbed Andrea's head and pulled him into a savage kiss, thrusting his tongue, Andrea gave a final thrust, emptying his semen, gush after gush. Dara's anus muscles spasmed, squeezing harder than ever.
Dara hugged Andrea with all his might. As his magic cock softened, slowly slipping out, he finally collapsed, burying his face in the nook of Dara's neck. They laid like that, enlaced, lost in bliss, each not really understanding that something sacred had happened.
After a long moment, Dara whispered, "Can we go outside and cool off some?"
A shooting star streaked across the moonlit sky.
"Wow! Andrea did you see that?" exclaimed Dara.
"Impressive!" replied Andrea.
"God it's great to no longer be a virgin!"
"That's how I felt orgasming in you! Now you have to orgasm in me too. That way you'll really no longer be a virgin."
"Let's crawl back in the tent! I want to become a shooting star right now."
"And I want to be your night sky!"
Morning came a bit later than usual. After a rich night of relentless sex, Andrea and Dara lazily crawled out of the tent. The temperature had climbed. The lovers were still sweaty, even sticky, and needed to cool off. They ambled down to the beach, smiling back at the smiles of their fellow campers. They swam around some, then went back up to the pool to rinse off the salt. Dripping along the way to the tent, Andrea crawled back in and pulled out the food box for breakfast while Dara gathered twigs and sticks for the fire. The small Italian coffee pot immediately begin to simmer on Dara's campfire. Andrea cut a few slices of brown bread, anointing them with a dribble of olive oil, adding a bit of honey. They enjoyed their breakfast, sitting shoulder to shoulder. From time to time, they leaned head to head rubbing their hair together, humming.
"Look, honey's leaked on your navel," remarked Dara, leaning over to lick.
"Mmm, that's sexy. It's a pity it didn't leak a bit lower," giggled Andrea.
Looking up with smiling eyes, Dara replied, "I don't need honey!"
"Are you still hungry?"
"For you, I am."
"If that's the case..."
Andrea disappeared into the tent and dragged a duvet out in one hand and his bottle of 'profumo' in the other
"Let's go spread it in the shade of a secluded little clearing a bit further upstream."
Dara laid back down. As Andrea sat, he showed Dara the bottle, saying, "I thought it would be fun to perfume our pubes."
"You are so refined, Andrea. Here, let me do it!" replied Dara, taking the bottle out of Andrea's hand.
Andrea laid back. Dara rubbed a few drops of the precious scent into Andrea's abundant curls. Then Andrea did the same thing to Dara. Useless to say that precum glistened on the moist tip of their glans. A minute later they were slowly sucking each other, slurping, twirling their tongues, swallowing as deep as they could, totally oblivious to the rest of the world.
The scent inebriated them, made them tremble as their semen began to rise. As their thirst became wilder, they clawed each other's neck. Their cocks, on the verge of eruption, thrusted in their mouths, urging their throats to open. Then out it came! They both grunted, spewing cum into each other's throat, over and over.
They sucked to the very last drop. Satiated, they sat, and shared a feverish, sticky kiss.
"Andrea, your 'profumo' works magic! Wow!'
"Here, take the bottle. I want it to be gift, an offering to your beauty, to your delicious semen... and to us, together."
Dara's eyes brimmed tears of joy as he simply replied, "Thank you. All of this is so wonderful, it must be a sin!"
"Bullshit! What's that nonsense? A sin? Dara, it's a miracle!"
"Sorry... just a former reaction I've not yet corrected. You're right... an unbelievable miracle."
"Listen, Dara... I read something interesting lately about why some civilisations or cultures condemn homosexuality and others couldn't care less. Are you interested?"
"More than you can imagine!"
"Lay your head on my lap."
Dara complied, gazing up at Andrea's face. He caressed Dara's hair as he spoke.
"This is what I understood. It's about religion and domination. Religions that want to conquer, claiming that they are the True Faith and that their God is the only true God need power to do so. So on one hand, they tell people what they can do and not do. In other words, what's sinful and what's not. They also need that their believers reproduce in great number. So they claim that cum is only for making babies. It's a sin to waste it. Jerking off, swallowing it or shooting it up an arse is not productive. It's also forbidden to use condoms or abort undesired pregnancies..."
"I'm starting to see where you're heading."
"In pagan civilisations, where the gods and their worshipers all enjoy sex, no matter with whom nor how, it just so happens that they're not out to conquer the people's beliefs. They only conquer bodies by war, plundering, enslaving, etc. That was enough for them. They didn't have to make people worship, nor convert, repent and all that kind of crap," asserted Andrea, looking down at Dara.
"So?"
"So that way gay men and boys were just as natural as anybody else. Here in Greece it was like that."
"But the Catholics make war, dominate, and are violent too!"
"But they do it to SAVE people from being born as sinners! They even kill to save! Crazy, no?"
Dara's mind was sparkling with new understanding.
"In Venice, our civilisation didn't need to obey being Catholic. We had changed Catholicism into a paganism really early in our history. Saints replaced the gods, angels became pleasure boys, etc. The Pope even turned our Republic into a Patriarchate. That way he gave up on saving our souls. We could do what we wanted. All Rome wanted was for us to send the money! Venice is a miracle, a splendour built in the middle of a swamp. Venice invented the greatest masterworks of western culture, music, art, theatre, banks, secret police, free sex, and above all, elegance in all things."
"And you're a Venetian..."
"No, I'm a halfbreed, my father's Count Maurizio Loredan. His family produced many Doges to preside over the Republic. More Venetian than that is impossible. On my mother's side, she's English and more eccentric than that is impossible too... As for me. I'm just me, and I really like you a lot."
Dara giggled, turned his head and kissed Andrea's cock, saying, "I like you too, mate!"
For the rest of the day they swam, waded, and strolled on the beach, drawing attention amongst the others. Girls blew them kisses. Boys often looked at them with envy. Andrea and Dara were oblivious to all that. They were in their own world and their own world was wonderful.
As the sun was setting, a group of lads lit a bonfire on the beach. A full moon was rising, and several boys started to sing Greek folksongs, with drums and a fife. As if drawn by the flames, Andrea and Dara joined the group. Wine was flowing. Couples were making out, laughing, coming and going as the twilight became night. At one point, a girl in a semi transparent cotton dress rose and began to dance. A shirtless, suntanned boy hopped in and danced along with her. With that others entered the dance. Andrea and Dara were among them, dancing together like mad. At the end everybody clapped. Some left to drink more wine. The musicians began playing a sensual kind of Greek saraband, drumming a slow syncopated rhythm. The chanting melody was hypnotic.
Dara and Andrea remained in the space and began to improvise an extremely sexy dance together. The others opened the circle, giving the lovers space. They watched, fascinated, smiling. At one point someone began clapping the rhythm. Others followed. The tempo accelerated little by little. Dara and Andrea, naked to the waist, gleamed in the firelight, their bodies lasciviously undulating one against the other, their arms in the air, their glowing faces tilted. Droplets of sweat glistened in their pits and the beat throbbed on, faster and faster. Dara provocatively rubbed his bulge against Andrea's. Andrea responded by grabbing Dara by the waist, and they spun, cock to cock, sweat flew, firelight danced on their gleaming skin. Then suddenly they stopped, lost in a sudden, uncontrolable kiss. The musicians were suddenly silent. An explosion of applause, wolf-whistling, shouting rose from the group. The drummers ran up, followed by several other boys, lifting Dara and Andrea into the night sky like love offerings to the moon.
Once back on the ground, others rushed up, touching them, kissing them, congratulating them in different tongues. There reigned a moment of exhilarating peace, filled with laughter, and the music soared once more, echoing into the night.
Dara and Andrea escaped back to their tent. They tore off their shorts and crawled in giggling, elated, oozing with lust. They sucked, drinking each other, and then fucked late into the night as the distant drums pounded their magic heartbeat.
The next day was devoted to being lazy. They climbed some up the slope to look down on Vatos.
"Do you see our tent?" asked Andrea.
"Yes, I see it. I want to live the rest of my life in it with you! I love this place -- with you, Andrea."
Andrea didn't reply. They climbed a bit higher and sat in the shade of a boulder. Andrea damped Dara's face with the trickle of water in the stream.
"Thank you," Dara uttered, shivering a bit.
For the rest of the day, they met up with a group of three Spaniards, camping with their girlfriends. They were complimented for their dance and were invited to play a bit of beach volley with them. Most of them spoke enough continental English to hold a conversation with Andrea and Dara. That night they put their food together and enjoyed a team picnic, talking and laughing late into the night.
Another wonderful day was over. Dara and Andrea said good night, kissed everybody, and retired to the tent.
As they snuggled up, Dara softly mentioned, "Back at school, the guys I befriended would never be able to sit around with their girlfriends and accept a pair of boyfriends in their circle like those did with us. It was for them natural that we cuddle up like they did with their girlfriends while we talked. that I'm only realising now that it actually happened. I'm so proud that we're not odd after all."
"It must be Vatos, us, the stars... who knows."
Another loving night slipped into tender dawn. As they surrendered to the deepest depths of their desire, instinct now guided them to what pleased the other the most. Usually it was the same kind of kiss on the same places, the same kind of penetration, the same time between orgasms. When they began, neither knew who would give and who would receive. They both loved it both ways.
Neither sought to dominate. Even in the wildest moments of erotic frenzy, they were always attentive to each other's pleasure. That too was a kind of miracle and neither really realised it. It just happened that way.
The following day was like the others. But it wasn't exactly the same. They were a bit less playful. There were more silences between them. It was the last day and night for Dara.
They had never dared mention the moment of saying good-bye. The future didn't exist. That afternoon, when another guy in the camp asked Dara what he was going to study in college, he mentioned that he wanted to study ancient history and theology. Andrea listened. And to the same question, Andrea replied that he wanted to look for work in a perfumery, maybe in Santa Maria Novella in Florence.
Suddenly Andrea realised that they were headed in very different directions. Nothing had been said to each other about how they wanted their relationship together to evolve or dissolve.
That omission was like a denial of the future. Vatos was out of time, unchangeable, belonging only to the eternally present moment, carefree forever.
There was a party on the beach again that evening but they didn't go. Both silently dreaded Dara's departure with the next boat the following day, but mentioning it was impossible. That night their love making was almost solemn, as they desperately strived to convey their unspoken love. Their orgasms were close to sublime as they flowed in and out of each other, just on the brink of drowning in their own desperate confusion.
The next morning, Dara slowly packed his bag in silence. They sat together in front of the tent trying to postpone those very stupid minutes that precede all possibly definite separations.
"So I guess that's it, Andrea, I think I'm ready," stated Dara, holding back his tears.
"Yes, I guess the party's over..."
"At least for me..."
Then Dara broke down sobbing, "Andrea! I can't face leaving you. I want to stay with you, whatever! Please say I can stay? Tell me you want me to stay! Please ask me to stay, Andrea!"
Andrea remained excruciatingly silent before responding. Dara waited, hoping, praying.
"Of course, I'd like for you to stay. I've become very fond of you, and I'm willing to even try living with you... but above all, I want you to be sure that your desire to stay with me is because of me and not because you dread returning to your family."
Dara was submerged in distress.
Andrea continued, insisting.
"Even if it's going to hurt me really hard, I think you must to go back and decide for yourself in Kilcock, if you want to come and live with me in Venice. I cannot live elsewhere. I want you to be sure that you want us to live in love together, and realise that it's not just the backlash of your breaking free and having real sex for the first time."
Dara was trembling, shaking his head, refusing to realise what he was hearing.
Andrea tried to be calmer. In reality, he sounded even colder, almost distant.
"We've both lived an awakening. I've discovered with you what I believe to be love. I've realised that fucking is not just for the fun. It's something deeper. I love you and I know you love me, even if we've never said it out loud."
"But, I'm screaming it now! I want to commit myself to you, Andrea! Don't you understand what I'm saying?"
"Yes, I understand... but if we are separated only for a short while, we'll both measure the true depth of our relationship. Either we'll grieve and do anything to be together, or our flame will simply dwindle, eclipsed by other loves, other lives... Do you understand that too?"
Suddenly Dara's Irish temper took control of him. He paced up and down, his fists clenched, his jaw trembling. Then he let go.
"Andrea! Here is what I understand! Good God, I know I'm going to regret saying what I'm going to say, but I have to say it! You're a bastard! In the past few minutes, you've revealed to me that you're just a sophisticated Venetian fag. You used me as your holiday sex toy! That's what you did! Fuck you, Andrea Loredan! You can mark me up as your latest conquest if you want. I don't give a damn! You never said you loved me and you knew I was starving to hear it!"
"You never said it either!" screamed back Andrea, standing, on the verge of slapping Dara across the face.
Dara didn't back up. He continued, "I know you think I've fallen in love because you took my virginity."
"You begged me!"
"So what! My virginity, I don't give a damn! I asked you to fuck me because my heart throbbed for you all-the-way. Do you hear me? I'm not a wishy-washy wimp like you! I'm radical. I wanted you in me because I loved you from the start, and not just for the fucking experience! When you say that it's best for me to go back to Dublin and see what we feel being separated, that's just a sly, sick way to GET ME OUT of your life!"
Dara wept, red with despisal -- then spat, "I'm leaving you now Mr. Loredan. I'm going to wait for the boat by myself. So long! It was fun."
"Wait!" screamed Andrea, standing there as if stunned, at a total loss, incapable to say anything. He was dumbfounded, dazed. All he could do was hold out his arms. Dara saw Andrea for the first time distraught, helpless. He hesitated, then surrendered to Andrea's hug.
"I love you, Dara," whispered Andrea.
"It's a bit too late, Andrea. Have fun. I'll give you my news from time to time. If we can't be lovers, we can at least be friends, can't we?"
"Of course... anything you want, Dara... anything..."
Dara never looked back. He ran down to the boat. Andrea staggered over to the tent and crawled in. Dara's scent still lingered in the duvet. Andrea wadded it, burying his face in it, sobbing his guts out.
Slowly he gathered his senses and just laid there in silence. The sound of the boat faded into silence leaving behind only the laughter of the new arrivals on Vatos Beach.
Dara was like a zombie. He wasn't hungry. Once back in the hostel, he slept, groggy, his nerves shattered. The ferry back to Alexandroupoli brought him back to civilisation. He bought a sandwich and a bottle of water, found a bus to take him to the airport, and decided to spend the night there outside under the shelter of the facade. He was sorry about the way he had acted, about what had happened because of him. But it did happen. He wanted to call Andrea. He knew there was no cell phone connections to paradise, but at least he could leave a message. His battery was flat.
His sleep was feverish.
His plane left at dawn. He went through the boarding formalities. Once he was buckled up in his seat, he felt a bit relieved. Maybe Andrea was right after all. Things had gone so fast... too fast. So much had happened. Deep down inside, Dara knew that if he never saw Andrea again, at least his Samothrace awakening and Andea's scent, smile, and lust would always be in him. That's the curse of true love denied. The motors roared, then screamed. Once they were airborne, the plane swerved. Dara saw Samothrace slowly disappear, his eyes blurred with bitter tears.
Andrea felt empty, nauseated, and exhausted. He had tried to have some fun, but nothing worked. He had swam for hours. A very sexy Swiss fellow kept on looking at him with lust gleaming in his eyes. Andrea never looked back.
Vatos had become a living hell. Everything reminded him of Dara. He tried to understand what had happened during that horrible half hour before Dara ran off. He thought about what Dara had said concerning radicality, and Venetian fags. He regretted having been honest, to not having said STAY, and come what may! And at the same time he knew it would have never worked. They couldn't live on Vatos for the rest of their lives and after cold reflexion, he realised that committing himself with Dara scared him! Dara was right!
Suddenly it dawned on him that he had no way to contact Dara. Dara had his phone number, including his email and postal address in Venice. Why didn't he ask Dara for his in Ireland? He felt like shit! The following day, he packed up and left, arriving like a ghost two days later at home on Torcello.
Dara's parents were waiting for him upon arrival at the Dublin International Airport. He looked like a disaster: filthy, tired, and exhausted. He told them that after a long shower and changing into fresh clothes he would feel better and tell them everything.
Dara scrubbed, trying to rid himself of all trace of Samothrace. He shampooed his hair twice, paid special attention to cleanse his arse and cock, but he smiled as he dowsed himself with Andrea's 'profumo'.
He plugged his phone in and downloaded his photos onto his computer, putting the ones he took on Samothrace in a separate file, sealed with a password. He wanted to call Andrea again, and decided best not to. He had to take control of himself and leave Andrea alone, at least until he had something positive to say.
That being done, he was now prepared to face the family. His favourite brother, Sean, was there. They hugged. There were his two older unmarried sisters there too. His mother had prepared dinner, bland as usual. He gave very boring details about the museums he had visited, preferring not to say anything about Samothrace. He simply said he had met new friends and even went on an excursion to an island before flying back.
Dara's father asked, "And where did you buy the fancy cologne you're wearing?"
Dara stuttered, the image of Andrea flashed in his mind. He lied saying, "Duty free in Athens... really inexpensive."
Dara's mother said, "It fits you so well, my dear boy. Excellent choice."
After dinner, Dara excused himself saying he was dead tired and retired to his room. He turned on his computer and opened the Samothrace file to take just a glance at the picture of Andrea smiling, playful, loving, carefree. Tears began to swell again. He shut off the computer. It was too cruel to go on hurting himself like that.
He fell asleep murmuring, "Something positive, damn it, something fucking POSITIVE!..."
Andrea immediately told his parents about Dara. He said he had finally found love and because of trying to be reasonable, he had made a horrible blunder.
"Dara was hurt, angry even, when I said he should go back to Dublin and see if he still wanted us to live together. Then he became very angry, cursing at me, and left," confessed Andrea, adding, "Papa, I was lost. I thought I was going mad! Oh, Dad! Mi go perso tutto! I've lost everything!"
Maurizio took his confused boy in his arms, and simply whispered, "My dearest Andrea, we all have to learn sometimes. Did you really understand and accept how Dara felt, and probably still feels about you, or were you simply scared to death about getting involved?"
Andrea shrugged, still clinging on to his father.
That's when Hillary, his mother, spoke up, "Do you have his number, his email, something?"
"No"
"Does he have yours?"
"Yes"
"So, if I understand, you downright took him for granted!"
Andrea barked back, "That doesn't help me, Mum!"
"Do you want me to help you?"
Andrea looked at his mother with pleading eyes.
"Then I hope that this will help. Listen to me you little spoiled brat! Only you can decide how to pull yourself out of the mess you got yourself in. When your lover asked for help, pleading you to give him the courage to stay, you probably said something stupid like 'distance will help us know if our love is solid' or some other middle class bullshit. Didn't you say something like that to Dara when he he begged you to accept him into your little selfish life?"
Andrea was shaken. He uttered, "Not exactly..."
"But almost! Be honest!" she demanded.
Andrea sheepishly nodded.
"Listen to me! I hope you realise that you've behaved like an ass and a coward and that you've terribly hurt a wonderful young man who surrendered himself to you. You seduced him!"
"We seduced each other!"
"Fair enough. Did you have fun?"
"That's not the point!"
"Granted. Now listen to your mother! If you can't feel the difference between having a fuck buddy and loving someone, then you've still got a lot of growing to do, and neither I nor your father, can do that FOR you. Now you've got to grow ON YOUR OWN. At twenty, it's about time!"
Andrea pulled away from his father's embrace. He was deeply affected by his mother's blunt words.
Maurizio looked at Hillary nodding his approval and then asked, "Son, do you think he'll call?"
"Good God! I live for that! Vivo per questo, Papa!"
"Well, you must be patient and wait. Don't give up. Have faith in Dara. Nothing else can be done. You must take it from there. Now go and try to sleep. Tomorrow I want to talk business with you."
Andrea rose, faintly smiled, and mumbled, "Good night, Mum. Buona notte, Papa. You're both damn hard on me, but I guess I needed that."
"Stop being foolish and go to bed!" quipped back Hillary, tapping her darling son on his lovely young arse.
When they met the following day, Maurizio proposed his son to create a little perfumery of his own.
"Son, amongst our properties in Venice, we have one on the Calle del Bastion in Dorsoduro. The present tenant is retiring and moving out of the city. It will be free August 24. I want it to be yours. You can live in the flat over the shop and set up your perfumery on the ground floor. You'll have to furnish and fix it up according to your tastes and needs."
Andrea was again a bit dumbfounded. Was he being put out of the house, or was he receiving a proof of love?
Maurizio assured him, "I'll back you until you get things running. You'll choose the equipment you need for your creations, decorate your shop, and begin to make a life for yourself. I can help you with the administrative formalities. Don't worry about the money. I'll back you, and I hope a possible partner as long as needed. It'll be up to you to play and win!"
Andrea immediately took the water-bus to Venice-Centre. He checked out the address he was going to own. It was perfect!
Andrea stayed busy looking looked for pot-stills on the internet. He didn't feel like looking up some of his friends. He spent hours on end, rowing in the channels of the blooming marshlands north of Torcello. He began a collection of fragrant plants, grasses, and flowers that grew in the laguna. He wanted to create a fragrance with the natural essences of his beloved Venice.
He kept his phone open day and night. Still no Dara!
"What in the hell is he waiting for!" Andrea shouted into the wind, angrily rowing alone in the heat.
Late one morning, Andrea was working on his computer when his mother rushed up, threw open his door, and waved a letter under his nose.
"The postman just gave me this for you. It's from Ireland!" exclaimed Hillary, adding as she closed the door, "Good Luck!"
Andrea didn't just rip it open. He held it between his fingers almost afraid to discover what was inside. His heart was pounding so hard that he felt it in his wrists and groin. He stood, went to the window, and looked out over the water. He then slowly opened the envelop, trying not to tremble. He unfolded the letter. The elegant, precise handwriting impressed him. He took a deep breath and read:
Dublin, August 14, 2018
Dearest Andrea,
I thought I could call, or send an email, but finally I decided to write you this letter -- because my hand is caressing the paper you will touch.
I'll try to be brief.
In fact, you were right. I had to come back in order to better leave! I never spoke to my parents about what we lived. I've spoken to nobody but God in my prayers. I've done a lot of what my mother calls 'soul searching'. I didn't have to search long. My soul's still on Samothrace, if not on Torcello with you. It's not lost. It's just waiting.
So, I'll get to the point. I'll be landing in Roma-Ciampino airport on the Ryanair flight from Dublin on August 21. If you still want to see me, I plan to stay at the pension of the Irish Pontifical College, Via dei SS. Quattro, 1, 00184 Roma for a week to see if it's the college I want to attend, maybe in view of becoming a Jesuit priest.
I would be thrilled to see you again! I'll ring you up once I'm fixed with my agenda.
I still love you,
Dara
Andrea fell on his bed, kissing the letter, tossing and turning in total bliss! He galloped down the stairs, two by two, shouting, "Mum! Dara's coming to Rome. He's coming to Rome! I'm going to kidnap him!"
"Really! Kidnap him, you say? Bravo, my dear! Excellent initiative."
Andrea ran back up and got on his computer. He saw that Ryanair arrived from Dublin at 10:40 AM. He immediately booked the earliest flight to Rome for August 21. He could be at Ciampino by 9:00 AM. Since he couldn't call, he would give Dara the surprise of seeing him at the arrival gate. Trusting his plan to abduct his lover, he also reserved two one way tickets on the 12:35 PM Red Arrow high speed train out of Rome to Venice and a motoscafo, or taxi boat, to hasten them directly to Torcello. At the same time, he reserved another speed boat to pick him up on Torcello at five in the morning and take him directly to the airport for his flight to Rome. He said to himself that he would have time to book a taxi at Ciampino for their rush to the train station as fast as possible.
All was planned. He was excited as a flea on a dog's back. He studied his plan with his father to see if everything seemed feasible. Maurizio congratulated him and advised him to be blindly determined until they were underway in the train.
"Give Dara no escape possible! We'll book a table at the Villa 600 to celebrate all the four of us the evening of your arrival. Tell him he has an important invitation to dinner! Do you think he'd make a good business partner with you in the perfumery?"
"First things first, Dad!"
"You're right."
Long before sunrise on August 21, Andrea, dressed in his best, waited at the boat stop for the motoscafo to arrive.
Everything worked like in a happy film. Andrea's flight left and arrived on time. The flight from Dublin was on time too. Andrea paced up and down in the arrival hall of Ciampino International Airport, sweating, trying to stay halfway calm waiting for Dara to walk through the gate.
At five to eleven, Andrea gasped! THERE HE WAS! Dara was there! There for real!
Expecting no one to be there waiting for him, Dara didn't immediately see Andrea as he jumped up and down waving -- but when he did, he froze, stuttered, trying to say something, and nothing came out.
Andrea ran and grabbed him, dancing and clinging on to each other in the flow of the other passengers.
"My God, Andrea, what in the hell are you doing here? I nearly had a heart attack!"
"I came to kidnap you, Dara. You are invited to dine tonight with me and my parents. It's very important! Now ask no questions and follow me!" ordered Andrea grabbing Dara's bag.
"But... I have an appointment at the college... I've made my plans to..."
"Forget your plans, tear up your list, Dara, and listen to me! I'm not going to let you get away this time. Now that you're back, I'm taking you home, to OUR home. Now get moving! We've got a train to catch in just an hour from now. I've got your ticket, and there's our taxi," exclaimed Andrea dragging Dara by the arm.
"Andrea, please! Good God, EXPLAIN!"
The taxi driver took the bag while Andrea shoved Dara into the cab.
"Okay, Dara, here's the first thing I have to explain!" throwing himself on Dara with the most passionate kiss that ever existed.
The driver smiled as he glanced in the rear view mirror, speeding away.
Dara surrendered, starry eyed, he listened to Andrea's explanations. He told him about THEIR house in Venice, THEIR perfumery, and how he definitely needed to live in love with him.
"That's fabulous. I couldn't dream of anything better... but I don't have money of my own. How can I..."
"No problem! Until we're able to earn our living together, my dad's financing us, you and me. He even said that if my kidnapping worked he wanted you to become my partner."
"And what did you reply?"
"Dimwit! I replied YES! Am I right?"
"Dimwit yourself! I definitely agree to be your partner in business and in life! You are totally unbelievable, Andrea Loredan!"
They arrived in the station just in time, found their train, and settled down in their reserved seats.
"There! We made it. Now, I think you should call your Jesuits."
"I'll pee first and then call! I still can't believe it!"
Dara returned. He was radiant. He simply stated, "Missions accomplished," and flopped down in his seat. Then he looked over at Andrea, and they both broke out laughing. Dara leaned over, squeezed Andrea's thigh and clearly stated, in Italian, "Ti amo, amore mio." (I love you, my love.)
"Where did you learn that?" inquired Andrea, touching Dara's soft cheek.
"Since I was planning on going to college in Rome, I thought I should start by learning some useful phrases."
"And that's a 'useful' phrase?"
"I just used it, didn't I?"
Andrea gazed at Dara with emotion and gently said, "Anch'io, ti amo." (Me too, I love you)
They both blushed.
"Let's go eat something. I'm starved. Aren't you starved too, Dara!"
"Absolutely," giggled Dara.
They made their way to the cafeteria coach, enjoyed sandwiches and beer, and then returned to their seats.
"Tell me, Dara, what's that business about becoming a Jesuit?"
Dara shrugged and replied, "I thought a lot about our discussion on pagans and Catholics and Venetian Catholic pagans. I then remembered the lecture given to our philosophy class last year by a visiting Jesuit father. It was about general theology, and not only the Catholic version of God -- and the gods. When I was back in Dublin, I went to see him and asked him a mass of questions, you know, about the soul, sex, different ways of worship, different outlooks on divinity. He said the way I criticised Catholic dogma on sexuality, on the variety of ways nature expresses its own desire through human desire, all kinds of human desires, was intelligent, pertinent, and well thought out. He said I had a keen mind and a true calling. He was quite persuasive and even suggested that I consider studying in their college in Rome. The idea appealed to me, especially because Rome was closer to Venice than Dublin. I talked to my parents. My mother was thrilled to think I might become a Jesuit myself, which I had not yet excluded. My father looked at the tuition and fees and said it wasn't overly expensive. So I came to see... As for the calling, heaven revised all that in the airport a little while ago."
"How's that?"
"Andrea, God's call from heaven is YOU. It's obvious that the force of our love was what brought me here. When I saw you standing at the gate, in a flash, my mind was made! I felt that you were there for me because you were sure. You didn't need you to kidnap me!"
"I had to kidnap you, Dara. It was my way to admit to myself that I needed you, that I love you, and that I wanted to share my life with you, a life in love with you and only you!"
"You sound like a lover in an Irish TV series, Andrea!"
"I don't give a damn. That's what I feel, so that's how I say it."
"I wasn't criticising! I like it!" quipped back Dara beaming, holding Andrea's hand tight in his.
Andrea smiled, chiding Dara, "You're just an adorable imp!" then he asked, "And what are you going to tell your parents?"
"I'm going to write to them, like I wrote to you. I'll tell them EVERYTHING. I'll tell them how much I love you, how we have sex together, how I'm going to live in Italy with you. They'll probably choke reading the letter and then kick me out on the street... which is going to be a rather difficult task, since I won't be there. Ha!"
Their train eased into the Santa Lucia train station. The motoscafo sped them across the laguna and tied up at the Villa Loredan's private landing. They ran into the house through the back door.
"We'll meet mum and dad in the garden for drinks before going out to dinner. Come on up to my room. We'll shower, and change. It's been an eventful day for us both."
"Whatever you say, I'm your hostage!"
"A happy hostage?"
"Absolutely delighted! Andrea, is there room for two in your shower?"
"Of course! If the pool wasn't visible from the walkway, we'd strip for a dip. We can do that later tonight, before turning in."
"You know, Andea, I'm really not THAT tired..."
"Who said anything about sleeping?"
They had fun lathering each other, scrubbing, and jerking each other's rampant cock, giving it the much needed relief to calm down before appearing in the garden.
Two very elegant young gentlemen walked up hand in hand to be be greeted by Andrea's equally elegant parents.
Maurizio said, "Son, I'm glad to see you succeeded in kidnapping this handsome young man! Happy to meet you, Dara. My name's Maurizio and this is my wife, Hillary."
Dara nodded a very polite bow as Hillary exclaimed, "My God, Andrea, your lover is absolutely gorgeous. That's rather unusual for an Irishman."
"And I dare say, Madame, that for an English lady, you're rather stunning yourself," quipped back Dara flashing a heart melting smile.
"Gorgeous and witty as well! Wonderful! My dear Dara, welcome to our home -- and into our family. Andrea has told us all about you, telling us that you were the one enabling him to experience real love. Ever since your letter, he's been the happiest I've ever seen him!"
"Our happiness is totally shared, M'am."
"Be polite, Dara, and call me Hillary! Prosecco or whiskey?"
Dara looked at Andrea.
"I think we'll have prosecco, Mum..."
"How silly of me! Of course, you'll have to be in shape for tonight," Hillary said, smiling as she added, "I'm sure you two have a lot of lost time to catch up on, don't you?"
Dara blushed crimson. So did Andrea.
"Look, Maurizio! Aren't they adorable together?"
Both the aperitif in the garden and the dinner at Villa 600 were delightful. Spirits were high and the conversation, sincere yet light. Later, after a refreshing dip in the pool, clothes in hand, Dara and Andrea dashed up to their room. Indeed, they slept very little, catching up on lost time.
The following morning, Dara wrote to his parents.
Dear Mother, Dear Father,
I'm not in the Irish Pontifical College in Rome. I'm in Venice with Andrea Loredan, the twenty year old mate I met on the island of Samothrace at the end of my trip. He and I fell in love and enjoyed the pleasures of mutual fellation and the joys of sodomy.
I now want you to know that when I was thirteen, Father Brian made me suck his penis until he climaxed in my mouth and forced me to swallow. This happened once a week until he found another boy to satisfy his needs. So what I'm saying is not really new.
Father Brian made me vomit. Andrea gave me the purest happiness I've ever known.
I was devastated when I had to come back to you, and your depressing piety. You noticed how gloomy I was. Just before I had to leave Andrea, I told him that I wanted to stay. He said I should return to Dublin just to test our love and then decide. I understood that he wasn't sure he loved me enough for us to live together. I thought he wanted to rebuke me and I lost my temper. We did not separate on good terms. One of my reasons to come to study in Rome was to try and see him again. I sent him a letter giving him my dates in Rome.
He was waiting for me at the airport and swept me away. I have never been so elated as I am today. I'm writing from his palatial home on a gorgeous Venetian island. His parents are elegant, gracious, and love me as their son-in-love with their only son.
Andrea learned the skill of creating fragrances and perfumes. He crafted the one you complimented me on. His father is financing us to set up a perfumery in the historical centre of Venice. We shall have our own home, our laboratory, and our shop. Count Maurizio Loredan, Andrea's father is arranging all the administrative matters concerning my staying in Venice. I shall have health insurance and a resident's permit. Don't worry for me. I no longer need your money. You can repudiate me as much as you want. I couldn't care less.
Your very happy gay son,
Dara
Dara gave the letter to Andrea to read, then he called his closest older brother, Sean, to tell him about the letter their parents were going to receive. He read the contents aloud. Sean listened and then wished Dara the best. He said he was happy for him and that he would always love him.
This was a great relief for Dara -- and for Andrea as well. The following days, their love making was intense. They were both giddy with joy. Andrea showed him the marvels of Torcello, then they visited Burano. Andrea taught Dara how to row the Venetian way, standing, facing the bow. He caught on fast.
Once their property in Venice was empty, Andrea and Dara went to inspect everything and begin making plans. It needed to be entirely furnished and neither one wanted hand-me-down antiques.
On the top floor, one of the two bedrooms could become an office. The bathroom wasn't luxurious, but it could do. Beneath would be their living room, with a sofa bed for future overnight guests. The kitchen and dining area was adequate.
"I'm useless in a kitchen, Dara. We'll eat out most of the time."
Dara frowned, "I cook! I like to grocery shop too."
"Really... will you teach me?"
"Sure, no problem"
"We'll go to the restaurant anyway... just to get ideas."
The ground floor shop was perfect, not too big, and in the back there was space galore for their laboratory.
"Andrea, I'd really like to handle the decoration and design of our home. I've always loved decorating, drawing, and things like that. Of course, we'll decide together but..."
"I need you to do all you can to give me time and leisure to do the nose work. I trust your taste as long as it remains minimalist. I can introduce you to a young glass worker on Murano if you want to work with her creating a stylish bottle for each fragrance. Also, I'd love for you to come up with ideas concerning the communication, you know, posters, packaging, boxes and stuff like that. I can put you in touch with an excellent young painter if you need one. He does great male nudes."
"I'll haunt all the museums and art galleries in this town to fill my mind. You're giving me a very inspiring responsibility!"
Sean called Dara.
"Hello brother. How's life?"
"Never been better... Tell me everything!"
"Dad received the letter. He was furious. He said you were a liar about being forced to give a blow job to Father Brian. He's persuaded that you're a drug addict too. Also, he threatened to come to save you from the den of iniquity in which you have fallen with those depraved Venetians."
"Good God! Is he really going to come?" exclaimed Dara panicking.
"Keep calm, little brother. I talked him out of it. He concluded that your letter didn't deserve an answer. As for Mum, she's still the meek shadow of her husband. I think both of them were relieved when you said that you didn't need their money. They'll leave you and Andrea alone."
"Are they hurt?"
"I don't know... That's not your problem... However, would it be a problem if I came for a visit when you're settled down?"
Dara had turned the speaker on so that Andrea could hear their conversation.
"Give me the phone!" exclaimed Andrea.
"Hi, I'm Andrea. You'll always be welcome, Sean! I've never had a brother, but I know that a brother's love is very, very important. We'll be waiting for you. Now I'll pass Dara back to you."
"Sean, you're a wonderful brother -- and a fabulous friend! I love you so much. I love you and can't thank you enough... Call soon! Promise?"
"Promise"
Four months later, "Loredan & Cavanah, perfumers for men, Venice" put their first creation on the market. It was a limited edition they named Dara, of course!
Dara Cavanah did a great job working, learning Italian, and adapting to the Venetian lifestyle. Andrea helped him choose his new clothes and shoes. Both he and Andrea were quite popular in the neighbourhood and with Andrea's former schoolmates. They made good friends also amongst their younger clientele. They decided to not design a website. Grapevine publicity was the best! They would keep their prices high and their volume of production low, however the word immediately spread to the more fashionable men's shops and boutiques around Saint Marc's bringing them lucrative mature clients as well.
June was already there. Maurizio and Hillary came to pick up Sean at the shop and take him sightseeing in downtown Venice, while the boys finished their day's work. They met up for dinner at Montin's. Sean was totally under their charm. At the end of the meal, Hillary said, "Sean, do you want to know how things work between your brother and my son with their successful business?"
Sean grinned.
"Well, it goes like this: Andrea is the nose, Dara, the hand and their creation, the result of what goes on in their bed! Don't you think it's strange that their fragrance for men enhances women even more? Ha!"
"Seeing the way they love each other, what they do is above the ordinary male or female classifications. I raise my glass to them. I'm proud to love them both!" stated Sean, looking tenderly at his brother and his lover.
"And I raise my glass to the Cavanah brothers," added Maurizio.
And Hillary concluded, like in an Italian TV series, "And I raise my glass to us all! LONG LIVE LOVE! VIVA L'AMORE!"
The people dining at the neighbouring table applauded!
Marin Giustinian Venice, Italy, 2021