Written by: Amar Patel
Disclaimer:
The following story is fictional. The author (myself) is older than 21, anyone who is under the legal age (according to their country, state, or provincial laws) to view erotic material should immediately dissuade themselves from reading further.The story is fictional and similarities to events and persons (living or dead) are purely coincidental and unintentional. If you are offended by homosexual erotica or it is illegal for you to read such material. Please read no further.
Copyright:
The story may not be copied, distributed, in any way, shape or form without consent from the author.
Opinions and Improvements can be sent to my email: patelamar360@gmail.com
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Story Background and Warning:
If you read my first story, then you are aware that I am more of a romantic type of writer; however, this story will be different to my first. I have read several novels, done research, and read guides to improving my writing and to reduce the influx of confusion. This story takes place in the proud nation of Colombia, a nation that struggles with erasing an era dominated by crime and stereotypes about the people. Though crime still remains, the nation has improved itself quite exceptionally. I warn you that this story will contain some degrees of abuse and aspects of the underground drug trade, these are for story purposes and I do not condone such action. The town is fictional in the story.
Prologue
The town of El Milagro was a town separated into two worlds. Crossing a stone bridge or using a boat were the only means of crossing the tributary that served as a border. The northern bank was comprised of European style buildings and narrow cobblestone streets, it looked as though the Spanish never left. A vast plaza stood at the center with open markets and a grand fountain that caught every tourists' eyes. However, the tourist's camera would fall upon a greater beauty known as the Spanish Cathedral. Built in the Gothic style with towers and stained glass windows, it stood like a holy sentinel and symbolized the town. Upper and Middle class homes surrounded it and the townspeople would proudly say that camera snaps are as common as bird-song. To the south of this collection of aesthetics stood the decayed slums, a remnant of a dark era passed. It was known for crime ranging from pick pocketing to murder. A destitute place with run down buildings and dingy alleys, it was the center of fear. The entire town was once under the dominion of crime lords and human traffickers and the people rallied and drove them out in a purge. The slums were now a constant reminder of the era that came before.
A woman had made the northern town her home, she was a curious sight for many. She arrived only with a single suitcase in hand and an infant on her back, and the townspeople had their theories about this sultry beauty. Her long wavy black hair was tied neatly in a bun and her castilian green eyes were alluring. She was fair skinned with arab features and full pink lips; a fantasy from the Arabian peninsula as many men put it. Her name was Rosario, a mother fleeing her past in Bogota. Rosario paid no mind to the gossips or the flirtatious glances of the single men when she arrived . It has been five years since then , now she sat with her feet dangling in the cool water of the fountain. She looked at the four angels and their stone chalice and leaned her head back.
She opened her purse and extracted an old photo, her father and mother beamed up at her. Her father had hailed from Lebanon and her mother fled Cuba. She felt a tear roll down her cheek as she recalled how they left her behind when they perished years earlier. The clock tower then rang and she was pulled from her memories. She donned her shoes and trudged her aching feet to her home. As she approached the front door opened and a young boy stood at the door flashing a white smile with missing teeth. With a sudden burst of strength, Rosario ran and threw her arms around her son.
"Hola mi pajarito (hello my little bird)!"
"Hola mami. I got a good grade in school!" The boy smiled again.
"Mashallah." Rosario felt strange saying her father's words so often.
An old woman poked her head out the door and smiled "Mateo was a sweetheart."
"Thanks for watching him for me. Mateo, say good bye to Mrs.Duarte." Rosario pushed him gently
Mateo ran up to the old woman and embraced her tightly "Bye abuelita (grandma)!"
Mrs.Duarte bent down and hugged him back "Bye pajarito. Bye mija!" the old woman waved as she walked off.
As soon as Mrs.Duarte was out of eyesight, rain began to fall and Rosario led Mateo inside. "Mateo, go get ready for bed and be sure to recite the rosary."
"Okay Mami." Mateo ran up the stairs.
Rosario sat in her favorite chair and opened the drawer near her, she pulled out another photo and looked at it with sad eyes. Mateo's father looked so refined. She had remembered these past five years how he used to smile with those bright white teeth, how he would always have messy black hair, that handsome face and those blue-hazel eyes. He was a foreigner exploring Bogota , so far from his hometown of Milan. Rosario held the photo to her heart, he wanted to take her away and vowed to return. He left giving her a golden band as his promisory note and not knowing she was pregnant. She stood and looked out the window at the pouring rain and looked at Gianluca's photo again and flipping to the back to look at the captions in Italian and in another tongue. A sudden bang on the door made her jump. Someone was trying to break the door down , and she felt her fear come back. She quickly began flipping off all the lights and pulled off her golden band and ran to her room. There was little time and she quickly pulled an envelope and dropped her band in with Mateo's birth certificate. Tearfully she took out a prepared letter and her beloved photos and dropped them in as well.
"Mami, someone is knocking on the door hard." Mateo said running into the room.
Rosario saw the fear in his eyes and she kneeled and put her hands on his shoulders."Mateo, listen to mami carefully. There is a friend of mami who is coming in, and he wants to play hide and go seek. Take this for mami and go hide with it. Be very quiet so he can't find you." Rosario attempted her best smile and saw a nod. Mateo took the envelope and ran to his room.
Rosario heard the door smash open and knew that this day would come. Her son came first and with a resignation to her fate she came eye to eye with two men standing at the front step. One man flipped on the light and Rosario went down the stairs.
"We finally found you Rosario.. after five fucking years." A man said holding her face.
"Don't touch me Garza." Rosario spit on him.
Garza laughed "Always a fighter."
Garza had changed drastically over five years, he was exceptionally handsome and his gangly body had become herculean. He was rugged and could be a model if he truly wanted with his creamy mocha skin and latin features. Rosario knew that he had no interest for such things.
"Why are you here Garza?"
"You asking me? You should know you bitch." Garza smiled and Rosario looked into his cold eyes "Where's the fucking money you owe me? Five years is long enough."
"I don't owe a culo (asshole) anything!" She spouted and Garza's eyes grew furious.
Mateo heard the muffled shouts from his closet, the shouts went to the backroom and ceased with a popping sound. He gasped as he heard footsteps coming up the stairs and into his room. The closet opened and Mateo looked into frigid eyes.
Chapter One
Thirteen years later,
A young man sat upon a stack of fruit crates in a dirty alleyway. He was quite a sight that contrasted heavily with the decayed walls and dingy streets. He was a swarthy youth with unblemished olive skin, his curly jet black hair was in a short crew cut and he stood at 6 feet. He was an example of a fine latin specimen, a body built like a soccer player and roundish almond shaped eyes the color of a blue-hazel. His full reddish lips and long nose gave him an Italian look; both men and women would turn their heads as he passed, just for a slight glance. He sat with his toned arms crossed, his feet dangling over his worn out flip flops, his glance to the sky. A rosary hung at his neck and a golden band rested on his finger, he clutched at the crucifix often as he waited for a customer. Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps caused him to look up at the man approaching from the alleyway. The man looked at the youth and could not help but drool at the firm pecs and visible abs underneath the white wife beater.
"Hey Rafael, you got the hard stuff today?" The man squeezed the firm pecs and the youth slapped his hand.
"Don't touch me... you know Garza doesn't like it." Rafael took out his merchandise.
"Comeon Rafael, can't I look at the "other" stuff?"
"Just give me the 500,000 pesos and you can have your cocaine."
"If I give you another 200,00 maybe I can take a peek at that bubble ass of yours?" The man laughed and handed over the bills.
"Here's your rocks." Rafael put the bag in the man's hand.
"Maybe next time I'll have that extra 200." The man coughed and walked away.
Rafael watched the man walk off and heard the clock tower ring from the northern town, he packed up his things and began walking. Eventually he reached Garza's apartment and unlocked the door, the air smelled of cigars and tequilla and made him wrinkle his nose. Garza sat in a recliner and was stretching his muscular arms, his cold eyes watched Rafael. He stood and opened his arms in embrace.
"There's my pajarito!" the nickname always was familiar. "How much did you make today?"
"1.2 million pesos." Rafael replied and received a slap.
"Address me properly!"
"1.2 million pesos, Mr.Garza sir." Rafael rubbing his cheek.
Garza leaned in and kissed the cheek and licked Rafael's neck "Play nice and you won't end up like your mother. Go do what you want just put the money on the table."
Mother.... the word seemed so foreign to Rafael. He hardly remembered her, her face seemed to fade with each passing day. He knew her name and how she smiled but it was not enough and that haunted him. Rafael put the cash on the table and entered a small bedroom; it was barely large enough for a bed and a small walk in closet, the mattress was worn and the lamp was dimming. Rafael shut his door and opened the closet, he pulled out a white dress shirt and his best pair of slacks, he stripped and put them on. He kneeled and pulled a metal box from the closet and opened it, inside sat two photos and a folded birth certificate. He counted the pesos under the birth certificate and sighed, he barely had enough to pay for half the cost of dress shoes. Garza never gave him money and sneaking it was difficult. Rafael looked at the birth certificate and read the name "Mateo, Vassallo-Bezzani". He folded it and placed it next to a picture of a beaming couple and a picture of a young man, he did not remember who they were but a sense of connection was there. He closed the box and stepped out into the living room where Garza waved him off. As he climbed down the stairs and walked down the street he heard a call.
"Where are you going?"
Rafael turned and felt his breath stifle as it always did when he looked at the man walking towards him. Luis was a man that would be found in the pages of a romance, he had the body of an olympic swimmer and light olive skin. His eyes were a dark brown and held a kindness in them and his black hair was messy but stylish. He was clean shaven and his looks were comparable to male models like Miguel Iglesias that adorned many magazines. An air of security always surrounded him and Rafael trusted him, despite him being close with Garza. Luis spoke only when needed but often had light insightful conversation with Rafael. With a slight flush, Rafael saw Luis smile and felt his heart melt.
"I'm going to the club Mr. Navarro."
"You do not have to lie to me, I know you're going to the cathedral. But wait a minute." Luis had a bag in his hands. "I saw you looking at these the other day." Luis passed the bag and Rafael saw new dress shoes inside.
Rafael blushed "Thank you Luis."
"You're welcome. Here give me your old shoes." Rafael removed them and handed them to Luis and saw Luis take them inside.
Rafael walked for some time through the impoverished neighborhoods and greeted some familiar faces. He reached the dividing bridge and crossed. The transition was almost immediate and he heard whispers as he passed, women turned and smiled at him and men at times looked him up and down. He reached the plaza and saw a group of women gossiping in hushed tones near the fountain.
"I heard the old woman was at it again."
"You mean Mrs.Duarte?" the name sounded familiar to Rafael's ears and he paused to look at the sunglasses on sale.
"Poor thing, she always looks for... him."
"It is no use in telling her that the child died when she doesn't listen."
"I heard she is ill."
"A broken heart cannot be mended."
Rafael watched the women walk away and had an aching feeling in his heart. The name was familiar and he tried hard to recall who it could be. Nothing came and he gave up with frustration. He walked to the cathedral and saw little to no activity. He opened the wrought iron gate and entered into a room filled with elegant vases and pews that stood straight and polished. A tall marble statue of the Virgin Mary stood with her hands clasped. Two curved staircases were on either side and led to the second floor library and another stair case led to the third floor residence of the father. With eagerness, Rafael climbed the staircases and knocked politely on the father's door.
"Is that you Rafael?"
"Yes father."
"Come in."
Turning the elegant door knob, Rafael bounced in and was met by a true rarity. The father had come from Portugal ten years past. He was the fantasy of many local women, he was known as the stud of Lisbon. He had a swarthy olive complexion and the sexy features of a Portuguese Adonis. His full pink lips were darker in tone and his dark brown hair was cut short, his hazel eyes were seductive and his clean shaven face and youthful disposition hid his age of 33. He stood several inches over Rafael's height and his atheltic body led many to swoon over him. The father had given Rafael everything that Garza often disregarded. He had taught Rafael his native tongue of Portuguese to fluency and perfected Rafael's Spanish. Without the father, Rafael would have simply given up on his situation. The father gave him hope, Rafael's love for the father grew with each meeting and he sought to visit the father every chance that came.
"Rafael what happened to your cheek?" The father ran his hand down the soft cheek. "Did he hit you again?"
"Yes father..."
"I told you to call me Heliodoro, are you alright?" His eyes were full of sorrow.
Rafael nodded and Heliodoro embraced him."I am sorry I cannot help you."
"No fa- Heliodoro , you make the pain go."
"What brings you here today?"
"I wanted to see you." Rafael replied . He hid the blush on his face by letting his gaze fall.
"It is your birthday tomorrow isn't it?" Heliodoro smiled and it was as beautiful as an angel in heavenly light.
"Yes it is."
"Turning 18 is ascending to adulthood. I am proud of the man you're becoming."
"Thank you." Rafael flushed even more and shyly looked up at the young face.
"I have a present for you." Heliodoro stood and took out a rectangular box "I know you like sweets and I bought you some chocolate."
Rafael took the elegant box and opened it, inside were at least 36 pieces of fine European chocolates "Thank you so much."
"That is not all, bend your head down." Rafael did as he was told and felt the unique feeling of beads. He looked down and saw Aquamrine rosary beads and a sterling silver crucifix hanging with his mother's rosary.
"This is too much... it looks expensive."
"I want you to have it, it brings out the color of your eyes." Heliodoro smiled.
"Thank you very much."
Heliodoro looked at the clock "You must head back. It seems our meetings become more fleeting, but each minute is like a year. Come visit me soon."
Rafael embraced Heliodoro tightly "Thank you again."
"God be with you."
Rafael smiled and waved good bye; with a brisk pace he went through the door and hurried back to Garza's apartment. Heliodoro watched him depart with worry, he shut the door and kneeled on the ground in prayer.
"Oh Father who watch over us, protect the angel that walks upon this earth. A soul that remains pure in a world of sin and violence. Take him oh Father in your divine guidance and grant him the strength to face those who wish him harm. Amen."
Rafael returned to the apartment and opened the door to see two men along with Garza and Luis. Garza was smoking at a cigar and held cards in his hand. Luis was expressionless and the other two men looked at him with lust.
"Garza you didn't tell me you had such a stud. Looks Italian and Latin combined."
"I'd say there's some Arab by his bubble ass." The second man said.
"Shut up he's mine!" Garza spouted and turned to Rafael "Pajarito why don't you show them what you got?"
"What do you mean Mr. Garza... sir?"
"Take off your clothes little birdie." One man said wolf whistling.
"Yes... sir." Rafael said reluctantly.
As Rafael unbuttoned his shirt, Luis was fixated as the brown nipples and firm pectorals appeared. The skin looked soft and Luis wanted to touch those abs and kiss those full lips. Luis felt his cock grow hard as Rafael hesitantly removed his slacks and underwear, drool formed at Luis' mouth as he looked at the sight before him. The legs and thighs were bare of hair and a neat black bush led to a flaccid cock, Luis thought it was at least 5 inches and the purplish head was just waiting to be sucked. The hairless sack was large and a darker shade than the rest of the body. The boy stood with a blush as the man ooohed and awwed.
"How cute he's blushing!"
"Garza let me tap that ass!"
"He's not broken in yet, you might rip him too much." Garza laughed "Rafael you can go but stay naked, property should be seen for all its quirks."
"The men laughed and Luis took pity on Rafael who gathered his clothes and was teary from humiliation.
Hope you guys enjoyed it, please send me your opinions. I am typing this along with my other story and I plan on finishing both.