Nunc Dimittis

Published on Nov 4, 2022

Gay

NUNC DIMITTIS 9

USUAL DISCLAIMER

"NUNC DIMITTIS" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest.

NUNC DIMITTIS

by Andrej Koymasky © 2019
Witten on May 8th 1985
Translated by the Author
English text kindly revised by Antonio

CHAPTER 9


Of all the Italian cities, Florence seemed to have been the least affected by the war, mentally, at least, if not materially. The air you breathed there was more serene, more normal. I was immediately captivated.

In this beautiful city I met the owner of a local newspaper. Knowing I was a journalist on The Times (and I must admit, a highly-regarded one), the man started to discuss with me the problems of organising the editing and editorial staff of his newspaper. As I revealed my points of view to him, he became enthusiastic. So, after we had known each other for not even a month, he made me an offer - to move to Florence and become the Director of his newspaper. I declined his offer at first, but he was insistent and offered me very good financial terms.

So, in May 1948, after much humming and hawing, I finally accepted his offer. I resigned from The Times and joined the newspaper in Florence. At this point I decided to apply for Italian citizenship again, but without having to give up those of Britain and Qatar, as was possible under Italian law. The papers and procedures were not too long-winded, partly because I was helped by my new employer's influential friends. To some extent my record and titles were known within my own milieu, so I was soon being received in the best circles of Florence; it was the start of a golden period in my life.

Financially too, I was more than comfortable. So I left the Baglioni Hotel and moved into a nice apartment I bought in Cimatori Street.

I gradually learned the various places in Florence where it was easy to meet people who, like me, were looking for adventures - from the Lungarnos del Tempio, delle Grazie, Acciaioli, Corsini and Vespucci, to the parks of the Cascine, to Ognisanti, Signoria and Repubblica Squares (under the colonnade in the latter), not to mention the Ponte Vecchio...

There were plenty of places and often just a glance, a smile or a trivial request for the time or a light was enough to pick up both Florentines and foreigners. So, when I couldn't resist any longer, I just went out for a stroll, and very often I was able to return home with a handsome man as hungry for sex as I was.

One evening that September, I went out in search of an enjoyable adventure, and started strolling around on the lookout. But I only seemed to encounter types who didn't appeal to me, or else, when I did feel attracted, who seemed unable, or perhaps unwilling, to understand my discreet signals...

It was late when I noticed a boy of about twenty, wearing black trousers, a white shirt and a black waistcoat open at the front. He was sitting on the parapet of Lungarno degli Acciaioli, an unlit cigarette in his mouth. He was really beautiful, doe-eyed, with the air of a lost puppy. He was looking around, so I passed in front of him, looking at him. I liked him very much and felt strongly attracted to him at once.

When I got near him, he asked: "Excuse me, would you have a light?"

"Sorry, I don't smoke..."

"Ah, shame."

>From the way he was looking at me I realised he was interested in me, so I decided not to let the chance slip away.

"Are you... waiting for somebody?" I asked him.

"No... you?"

"No. I just like going for a stroll of an evening... Sometimes you can meet interesting people."

"Interesting... in what way?"

"Well, people whom you are glad to chat with and spend some time in pleasant company."

"Ah, I see. And do you find me... interesting?" he asked, a smile flickering on the last word.

I looked him up and down and said: "I reckon so. Can I get you a drink?"

"In a bar or... at your place?"

"Whichever you prefer."

"At your place then. Do you live far from here?"

"No. Coming?"

"Yes, gladly."

"My name is Andrea..."

"How d'you do. I'm Bruno."

I led him to my home. My apartment had two entrances, the main one and a service door on a parallel street, opening onto another stairway. To be on the safe side, I always took my occasional conquests to the service door, which led to a small servant's flat that I set up as if it was my bachelor's home. There was just a bedroom, a small lounge and the bathroom. Sitting in the lounge, I offered him a drink. He asked for a beer, which I gave him and asked: "Have you got the time to stay for a bit?"

"To do... what?" he asked.

"We could have a bit of fun, if you feel like it. I like you very much..."

"Yes, all right, but..."

"But?"

"Well, you see... I do it for money." he said in a low voice, and blushed to the tips of his ears. I was rather disappointed.

"Well, then... sorry, Bruno, nothing doing. I don't like making love in exchange for money, only with people who come here because they like me."

"But I do like you. Even if I do it for money, I really do like you. It's just, you see, I really need the money..."

"Can't you find yourself a job?" I asked him rather sternly.

He lowered his eyes and blushed again: "I... I've run away from home and I can't... I'm under age, and if I looked for a job, the law might find me and send me back home... and I don't want that..."

"Why did you run away from home?"

"It's... it's a long story..."

"Tonight I'm in no hurry..."

So Bruno told me his story.

He was the son of a farmer in the province of Caserta. His family owned a great deal of land and were quite wealthy. He was the third of five brothers. When he was thirteen, the zone had been occupied by the Germans. One German soldier had laid eyes on him and taken a fancy to him. So, once when he met Bruno alone, the young man buttonholed him and after a while touched him, explicitly suggesting having sex. Bruno accepted out of curiosity, and very much enjoyed making love with the handsome young man. They met often, until the regiment was moved further north. Bruno missed the handsome soldier, but didn't know how to go about meeting other companions.

When he was fifteen, a seventeen-year-old boy came to work for them as a farmhand. Bruno immediately felt attracted to the strong, handsome lad. So he started following him around, spying on him, hoping for he knew not what. He didn't dare to make the first move, and the lad didn't seem to feel anything for Bruno, more than the normal comradeship that can arise between two boys of almost the same age. But one very hot summer day, soon after lunch Bruno climbed up to the hayloft and stretched out in the hay to take a nap. Suddenly he was awoken by the creaking of the barn door. Fearing that it was one of his brothers coming to look for him with some chore to be done, he stayed out of sight and spied to see who was.

He was really amazed when he saw it was the farmhand who climbed up. He proceeded to lower his trousers to his hips, tucked his shirt up under his chin and, caressing his chest and belly with one hand, started slowly masturbating with the other. Bruno was immediately aroused, so he opened his trousers and started masturbating too, enjoying watching the lad. But in so doing, he lost all sense of caution and moved, making a board creak. The farm-hand turned and saw him. For a while they both remained still, embarrassed, each of them with his hand still on his turgid penis. Then the farm-hand smiled at him and came closer... and in a while they were lying on the hay passionately making love. After that first time they got together quite often, as they liked each other and got on well together. They made love for almost two years.

But one day they were caught having sex by Bruno's older brother. There was a huge scandal. Bruno's father was furious - the farmhand was sacked on the spot, and was forced to leave the village as well. Bruno boldly told his father that he liked doing these things, and that he would find someone else with whom to do them again. His father gave him a thrashing with his belt, then locked him in the cupboard under the stairs. Bruno persisted in saying that he would start all over again as soon as he was free, and his life of beatings, insults and hardly any food, shut in the dark, lasted a full month, until one day the second brother unlocked the cupboard, gave him some money and helped him to run away. So Bruno had travelled north, and had been in Florence now for ten days.

As he ended his story, I did a few sums then, astonished, asked him: "But... how old are you?"

"Over seventeen."

"So you would have to stay hidden four more years..."

"Almost."

"And how are you going to live in the meantime?"

"Hustling..." he answered with embarrassment.

"But... do you like doing it?"

"Well luckily, up till now I've managed to survive by going just with people I've liked. I just have to be careful the police don't catch me..."

"I see. So you can't look for a proper job, or stay in an hotel or lodgings?"

"That's right."

"But where do you sleep? Where do you spend the night?"

"If I'm lucky, with a... client. If not, at least while the weather is fine, I sleep rough."

"But Winter is on the way..."

"We'll just have to wait and see."

"And... you have no things with you?"

"Like what?"

"Like... a change of clothes, for instance."

"No. I left with nothing. And the money I earn is barely enough for food."

I looked at him more carefully and saw that he was a bit grubby. So I suggested: "Listen, Bruno, you could have a nice bath now, while I find you a change of clothes. We're more or less the same size; you're just a bit shorter than me. Then, if you want, we can go out somewhere and get something to eat..."

"That would be great... thank you."

So Bruno took his bath then changed his clothes. I caught a glimpse of his body and saw it was beautiful, the body of a person used to hard, outdoor work. We went out and I bought him supper. Then I gave him some money.

"If you want, we can meet again tomorrow, and I'll get you some more clothes." I said.

"Thank you. But aren't we going back to your place now to make love?"

"No, I told you, I don't like doing it for money."

"Just as you like..." he said hesitantly, "So ciao, then." he added.

"Ciao. Where can I meet you tomorrow?"

"Same place as today... what time will you come?"

"About eight o'clock"

"All right. I'll be there."

We parted. I thought about Bruno almost all night long. I wanted to help him - he aroused feelings of tenderness in me. So the following day I went and bought a strong ex-army holdall, and filled it with underwear and clothes, then a towel, soap, a comb, toothbrush and toothpaste, a razor... At eight p.m. I went to meet him.

"Let's go and eat." I suggested.

"Thank you." he said simply.

During supper, we chatted. Then I gave him the bag: "Take this, it's for you."

He opened it and looked at the contents, then asked, wide-eyed: "All this? For me? It's all mine?"

"Certainly."

"Thank you. But... but I've nowhere to keep it... Couldn't you... keep it for me?"

"Well... that might be possible. Do you feel like going for a little walk?"

We set off. At a certain point he asked me: "But, aren't you going to take me to your place?"

"What for?"

"Don't you want to make love with me?"

"No."

"Am I not your type?"

"Sure you are. I like you."

"So then?"

"I don't want you to make love to me just out of gratitude, just because I give you presents. I don't want to buy you. I want to give you a hand, and I'm doing it willingly, but not in exchange for sex."

He said nothing.

We started meeting almost every day. Sometimes I took him back to my bachelor apartment for him to have a bath. He didn't bring up the subject of sex for several days. In the meantime, I was looking for a place where he could sleep without the need to show any papers. It wasn't that easy, but in the end I found an elderly widow who let rooms without a licence. I paid her a month in advance, then took Bruno there with his bag. Then we went for supper.

During supper I asked him: "If you were able to find yourself a job, would you stop hustling?"

"Sure. But I can't find anything."

"I might be able to. It won't be anything much, but..."

"Anything at all would be fine for me." he answered with genuine enthusiasm.

I had known him for about three weeks when I told him: "I've found you a job, for a while at least..."

"Really? What is it?" he asked, his eyes aglow.

"There is a small firm that needs a labourer."

"That's great! When can I start?"

"Tomorrow, if you want."

"Tomorrow, sure!"

"Don't you want to know what the pay is?"

"No, any amount is fine."

"They don't pay all that much, but you can earn a living. It's all I could find illegally, like you need."

Bruno embraced me and said: "But Andrea, I... I would like to make love with you."

"Bruno! I've already explained to you..."

He interrupted me, shouting angrily: "Fucking shit, then! It would have been better if you hadn't paid for my lodgings and all the rest! If you didn't give me anything, at least then we could make love! I don't give a shit for your money! What a fucking shit I've been, not hustling all this time and contenting myself with the food you bought me once a day! For you!" He lowered his voice and continued, still upset: "Because I like you so much... and you say you like me too, and then you know, I've noticed the way you look at me when I undress at your place to take a bath! Why must you be so stubborn? I want to make love with you, and if you refuse me again... if you refuse me, I'll leave that damned room, and give you back all your fucking clothes, and I'll start hustling again!"

I looked at him astounded and asked: "You really would do that?"

"Yes I fucking would! I'm not joking. I like you and I want you! Shit, Andrea, stop refusing me! Take me home, to your bed. Please?"

I gave in. "All right... as you wish..."

"Oh, at last! You'll see, you won't regret it. And if things work out between you and me, I promise you I won't look at anybody else, and will be yours alone!"

"Now don't let's rush into things..." I said with a laugh, "let's take it one step at a time. Are you coming?"

He followed me, happy as a child. In fact he was just like a little kid, though he had a splendidly developed body that could easily pass for a twenty-year-old. Once we got home, he asked first if he might have a bath. He entered the room where I lay waiting for him on the bed wearing just a towel round his loins. He stopped at the door and gazed at my body that he was seeing naked for the first time. His eyes glided up and down, and I asked myself if he was perhaps disappointed; but the throbbing slowly rising between his legs under the towel convinced me I was wrong.

In fact he drew nearer and exclaimed in a warm, low voice: "Wow, what a dream of a man you are! I guessed you might have a nice body, but..."

He started to brush all over my body with his fingertips, and his eyes shone. I reached out my hand and pulled away the towel from him, revealing all of his nudity. He bent to kiss and lick me... he was really skilled! He knew how to give me the utmost pleasure. I caressed him in his most sensitive spots, and Bruno started to moan aloud, and to take care of me with increased energy and passion. I could clearly see his intent, engrossed expression. He licked his lips and shuddered at the care I was lavishing upon him.

After a while I too started to moan, until: "I'm... close to... cumming..." I moaned.

He hurriedly pulled away from me. I looked at him stupefied: "Why?" I complained.

"You mustn't cum yet. I want to make you die with pleasure first. Leave it to me. You'll see, you'll be happy..."

He started to suck on my nipples, then to lick and lap my belly, my sides... he made me turn and licked all down my back, my spine, then all over my body. Then I turned again and pulled him onto the bed, made him lie beside me and gave him the same treatment. Bruno seemed troubled by the intensity of his pleasure. He thrashed about like a madman, moaning louder and louder. We French kissed while he spread and lifted his legs, caressing my back and buttocks and pulling me firmly towards him, and offered himself to me unrestrainedly. I sank slowly inside him with extreme, mutual pleasure. He rocked under me, accompanying my thrusts, in a delirium of sensations. His satisfied smile in receiving me was so wonderful... But again he interrupted me on the verge of my explosion, before I could reach my orgasm. Again I sucked his nice rod, while he kissed, licked and caressed me for a long while.

We continued in this way, often changing position, travelling all over the double bed, bringing our excitement to the brink of explosion, then holding back, to start again and again... For just seventeen, he was incredibly good and skilled; his sexuality was unrestrained, but at the same time he was always in control of the situation. He was one of Nature's little, wild elements! From time to time he'd bite, nibble, lick, caress, suck and lap me... awakening intense pleasure all over my body, using the whole of his body in a splendid way.

When we were finally unable to restrain ourselves any longer, we allowed ourselves to be seized by our orgasms, cumming in unison, me embedded deep in his love channel, and him crushed between our bellies. Then, I abandoned myself on the bed, exhausted, and embraced him.

He curled up against me like a purring, contented puppy and asked me: "Are you happy?"

"Yes, that was fantastic."

"I promised you... So now you won't make such a fuss any more? Will you let me make love with you again?"

"If you want to, with great pleasure."

"Andrea, I don't just want to, I desire you! I enjoyed it so much with you and... I never want to leave this bed. You are not like the other men, you didn't just let me service you, you took me to paradise..."

I caressed him tenderly - he was so sweet!

Later, when he was about to leave, he took my hand and kissed it lightly, saying: "Thank you!" He went down two or three steps, then turned and said: "Shall we see each other tomorrow?"

"Sure."

"At eight o'clock?"

"Earlier, if you like."

"Really? What time, then?"

"Eight in the morning. That way I can take you to work. How's that suit you?"

"Sure. Where?"

"At the Olimpia Bar?"

"I'll be there, on the dot!" he shouted, turning and running down the stairs.

I went indoors feeling happy. He was so dear, Bruno, that I was really moved. I had been so lucky to meet him, and that he liked me.

We met again, and I gradually became more and more fond of him. And he was affectionate towards me too. It was really pleasant spending time with him, and not just in bed. He invaded all my erotic fantasies, as well as all my thoughts. He wasn't all that educated, but had a great desire to learn. He always asked thousands of questions and listened attentively to my explanations.

One day he told me: "I would so much like to go back to school; I only went to primary school. I've heard they have evening classes for adults too; but until I am of age, I can't get into a state school without my father's signature..."

"If you want, I can help you. You could start studying now, so that when you're twenty-one, you'll just have the exams to sit..."

"That would be great... but do you really feel like helping me?"

"Yes, or else I wouldn't have suggested it!"

"Can we start right away?" he asked with bright eyes.

"No, tomorrow. Right now we'll go and buy your books and copybooks, alright?"

We started. At first he found it hard, mainly because he'd got out of the habit of studying. But with his determination and natural intelligence, he overcame the difficulties. He was a quick-witted boy. I also had to teach him to write properly again and to do arithmetic. But I never needed to push him.

He spent the night at my place more and more often, until one day I proposed: "Would you like to come and live here with me?"

He looked at me astonished: "But... you don't know me all that well yet."

"I know you well enough to think that we could get on alright together, and to want to do it."

"It's easy to get on well together when it's for just a few hours... Living together is more difficult. I wouldn't like to let you down."

"I know what you mean, but I think it's worth a try..."

"All right. Let's give it a try, then. A month's trial." he said, with a serious expression.

So, he left his lodgings and moved in with me. It was December. Starting from the very first day, he was fantastic. Not only did he share the household chores with me, but he was really tidy, clean and always helpful. He was also very discreet, he never touched my things, never pried around. I noticed he liked music, so I started to explain it to him, and taking him to some concerts too.

One day he came home with fine new clothes: "Do you like them, Andrea?" he asked me proudly.

"Yes, sure, but you must have spent a lot of money!"

"All my savings... and I knocked them down a bit!"

"But you didn't really need them..."

"I don't want you to be ashamed when you go around with me."

"I've never felt ashamed to be seen around with you!"

"Yes, I know. But I notice the way your friends look at me. And I've been thinking... what must they think, seeing us always together?"

"I don't know, and I don't care."

"No, not you... but perhaps it would be better if you introduced me as... what could we say?... your nephew, who's staying with you?... You have got a sister, haven't you?"

"But there's no need..."

"If people think I'm your nephew, we can be arm in arm, or you can give me a caress if you want to, without people thinking any the worse of it... And that would really please me."

I smiled - Bruno really was sweet. Embracing him, I felt really affectionate towards him, and told him so.

He brightened and said tenderly: "I feel very affectionate towards you to, you know"

The day of my birthday arrived. He secretly asked for a half-day off, to prepare a special dinner for me, with a cake and candles too.

1949 came. Bruno was applying himself very much to his job, our home and to his studies. I watched him change, little by little, from a country lad into a refined youth. But thank heavens, he didn't lose the freshness and spontaneity that were so peculiarly his. He was naturally curious, he was interested in everything and wanted me to explain everything for him. He also adopted the habit of reading a great deal. From time to time he would come and ask me to explain a difficult term or a new concept. I did my best to be useful to him.

The agreed month elapsed. It was Bruno who drew it to my attention.

"That's true. So, are you going to stay here with me?"

"Are you still sure you want me to?"

"More than ever. I'm getting fonder and fonder of you. Would you like to be my boyfriend?"

"Aren't I already?"

"Sure you are, but I've never asked you explicitly. You see, I'd like you to be not just a boy I take to bed. What I mean is, I don't only want to have sex with you, but affection, love... as well"

"I like to think that I mean something more than just fun to you too. But I don't honestly know if I can say I'm in love with you. I do love you, I feel great around you, very much so, but... I don't know..."

"What's the problem, Bruno?"

"Well, you see, I am not eighteen yet... how can I make a serious commitment, for the rest of my life? Perhaps now I might be happy to say that I'm your boyfriend, that I love you, that I want to be with you forever, but... but later? What if one day I should change my mind? I'm not mature enough yet, can you understand? Then again, I don't want you to kid yourself, and then perhaps one day have to suffer because of me..."

"Yes, I understand. So what you're saying is that we should consider ourselves as just close friends."

"Yes, more or less, if that works for you. Special friends, at any rate."

"But, do you feel like staying here, living with me?"

"Oh yes, I feel so good with you! You are the most exceptional person I have ever met. I'm really happy to be with you!"

I felt that, in some ways, Bruno needed to feel free. This meant that one day he might perhaps fall in love with someone else. It was a risk. But on the other hand, the same risk could exist even if he was in love with me now. A smaller risk, perhaps; but real all the same. So my acceptance made no difference. For my part, I was already in love with him, so I could only accept his conditions and take that risk. While appreciating Bruno's sincerity.

So, he stayed with me. He continued working as a labourer with no employment card. I would have liked to have found him a better job, but in spite of my many friends and acquaintances, it was not easy, mainly because there was always the risk the law might catch up with him and send him back to his family. I also wanted to take him to England with me, but he could not leave the country; so at Easter I took him to Venice. He loved the city and I was happy to see his rapture when faced with the city's many beautiful sights. Bruno was indefatigable. He seemed to put all his energy into whatever he was doing, yet he was always fresh and ready for more.

The first of May we celebrated his eighteenth birthday. I gave him the Treccani Encyclopedia in 54 volumes - Bruno was bursting with joy.

On the fifth of May, the plane bringing the Toro soccer team back from Madrid crashed into Superga Hill. A fan of the team, Bruno was deeply shaken. I took him to Turin for the funerals and I saw him cry for the first time. But, with his strength of character, he soon got over it.

In July I had to leave him for a few days, as a congress of all the Directors of the National Press was being held in Naples. Just seeing Bruno's happiness when I got home, I realised he'd missed me, and this filled me with joy. He claimed he was not in love with me, yet was continually giving me proof to the contrary. And all his efforts to improve himself were undoubtedly for himself, but most of all they were to please me too, not to show me up in front of other people, so I could be proud of him - and I really was proud of him!

Not that he was one to give in all the time. He had a well defined character, and I liked him because of that too. Another aspect I loved in him was that, despite the passage of time, when we made love he was still as passionate as our very first time. And last but not least, the fact that the house was no longer empty when I came home from work gave me a great sense of pleasure, completeness, safety, and added zest to that same work, to everything I did every day.

One evening in October '49, I found him at home gloomy and frowning. As soon as he saw me, he came up and said: "Andrea, I have to change my job, as soon as possible!"

"What's up? Don't you feel alright there?" I asked in surprise.

"It's not that. There's this colleague, a young chap, who keeps chasing me..."

"And does that bother you so much?"

"Yes, because... I like him. I feel attracted to him. And I don't know how long I can pretend I'm not, how long can I resist his overtures."

"But... do you want to resist him?" I asked, emphasising the "want".

He looked at me in amazement: "But... of course! I'm with you, aren't I?"

"But you told me that you're not in love with me. So, you are absolutely free to..."

"Are you pushing me into having sex with him?" he asked belligerently.

"No... I simply mean... it's up to you, I have no rights over you."

Bruno looked at me thoughtfully for a while, then said: "You're right, neither of us has rights over the other. But... if I went to bed with him, I might even enjoy it, but afterwards I would feel uncomfortable with you. It would feel as if I'd cheated on you, and I don't want that. So I have to leave that place, I want to leave it."

"But have you made it clear to him that you don't want to have sex with him?"

"Sure I have. But he knows he turns me on, so he keeps insisting."

"We can try to find another job, but you know it's not that easy."

Bruno embraced me tightly and said: "Help me, Andrea. Don't leave me alone."

I embraced him back and whispered: "I don't want to lose you, Bruno, that's for sure. But apart from the fact of being in love with you, I don't know how to help you. I certainly can't keep you locked up at home!"

"But you can keep telling me you love me, let me feel it more..."

"I would've done that, but I didn't want to oppress you. Sometimes, when only one of two people is in love, without intending to, he can oppress the other with his love."

"I've never felt oppressed by you. You respect me and leave me free... perhaps even too much."

"Respect can never be too much."

"When two people marry, the very fact of being married helps them stay together."

"Not always. But you didn't want to be bound to me. I'm not reproaching you, try to understand that. That's just the way it is. Anyway, two men can't get married."

"But do you still want me as your boyfriend?"

"Yes, certainly, more and more."

Bruno thought for a while, then asked me: "Could we do a trial, then?"

"A trial? Of what?"

"Regarding ourselves as... as married."

"Well, then... do you want to be my boy, Bruno?"

"Yes, I do. And do you want to be my man, Andrea?"

"Yes, I certainly do."

We embraced and kissed. We were soon both aroused and started to make love.

Afterwards, in a whisper, his eyes luminous, he asked me: "So then... am I your boy?"

"Yes, Love, you are."

"Good." he said and gave a little sigh.

The next day I went to order two gold rings, similar to wedding rings, and had our two names engraved inside them. The rings were ready in about ten days, and I took them home and showed Bruno.

"Aren't they beautiful! It really is like... like being married, isn't it?"

"Yes, a bit."

"So you must put it on my finger, and I on yours."

We exchanged rings and kissed happily.

A few days later Bruno told me: "It works, you know"

"What? What works?"

"It's lot easier now for me to keep my distance with my colleague. Mind you, it would probably still be better if I could change my job."

"Bruno, I love you, and I hope you will stay with me forever... I... I really need you so much."

"Me too, Andrea... I need you too and... and I love you too. Now I feel certain of it, you know?"

"Are you... are you really sure?" I asked with emotion.

"If I'm saying it now, it's because I do feel certain. It's taken me a year to realise it, but now I know - I'm in love with you, Andrea. And I want you, I want you now, right now. Let's go to our bedroom, come on..."

"To the bedroom? To do what?" I joked, but with a straight face.

Bruno looked at me with wild and staring eyes: "But... to fuck!"

"Young man, what language!" I said, continuing my game.

"But, for Heaven's sake, do you want me or not?"

"Of course I want you, silly boy! I was kidding."

He smiled, sighed in relief then, taking my hand, propelled me into the bedroom.

"Do you know, Andrea, I keep asking myself why I didn't come to this decision before. It is such a wonderful feeling knowing that I'm really yours, and you are mine. A feeling of safety so huge that it feels like I'm walking on air. I know that in practical terms nothing will change, yet I feel so much better now that I was really stupid not to have accepted your proposal sooner. I'm just so young still... I hope I never let you down, Andrea. You really don't deserve such a thing."

"So far, that has never happened."

"I love you Andrea, I know it now, I feel it... it's great feeling in love... I would like so much to be a girl, to be able to marry you..."

I laughed: "That would be the end! If you were a girl, it would be my not wanting to marry you, nor wanting you with me, you know that. Fortunately, you are a boy - and luckily for me, not even slightly effeminate."

"Yes, I know, but... I would like to be able to marry you, before the whole world."

"It's rather like we were married - we've exchanged our vows of love and our rings."

"I am a silly boy, aren't I?"

"No, you're an adorable one!"

CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 10


Please, donate to keep alive Nidty site, that allows you to read these pages, Thank you - Andrej


In my home page I've put some more of my stories. If someone wants to read them, the URL is

http://andrejkoymasky.com

If you want to send me feed-back, or desire to help me revising my translation into English of another of my stories, send me an e-mail at

[andrej@andrejkoymasky.com](mailto:andrej@andrejkoymasky.com?subject=Your Stories)

(I can read only English, French, Italian... Andrej)

Next: Chapter 10


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