On the phone to Mike.
After what I had done I had to talk to Mike, my long time friend and business partner. I had to talk to him and let him know. What time was it in London? Five hours latter. Fuck, it is too late. I will have to call tomorrow. I'll call him first thing in the morning, even if I am flying back to London that evening. I hope I have not fucked up too much. I was grinning to myself: We did fuck and was it fun. I enjoyed it and so did he ... so what the big deal? Ok he happens to be our client, not very professional ... neither were I! What a great lay though, a prime piece of ass!
- Hi Mike, how are you today? Is this a good time to talk? - Yee sure go ahead - Now... don't get mad at me. I know you are going to ... but hear me out. - Bad omen ... go ahead... - You remember I told you I thought Jimmy was cute and I thought he had the hots for me? - Who's Jimmy? - Jim, Betty's chief of staff. - Fuck you did know fuck him did you? - I did and Christ was it fun! - Are you totally out of your mind? - Calm down now. He has been chasing me non stop for two weeks... What was I to do? It would have been bad for business to turn him down. Plus I fancied him. - You are totally crazy mate. What were you thinking of? This is so unprofessional. - LOL you know I have got a one track mind! - But come on mate not with the clients... - Anyway, I had a great time. I fucked him senseless and he kept on asking for more. Can't be bad for business. You know what; he has the smallest of dicks, like a 10 year old. I guess the only thing he can use for getting off is his pussy, and let me tell you he knows how!
At that point I did get a little carried away. But Mike and I had always shared our experiences... - He has such a beautiful skin, totally waxed, not one single wisp of hair ... apart for his armpits, they are just clipped ... a full body sun tan... a little orange may be... And god! Such a sweet pussy! I did him three times in one night. He left with a smile! - Well I am glad you fucked up in such a big way - Give me a break ... what do you mean? - No really I am glad. I am afraid in turn I have bad news for you. - What is it? - I can't tell you over the phone. I'll tell you when I see you tomorrow. - Ok see you tomorrow then.
What bad news could this be? I had to admit Mike got me slightly worried
Back in Town.
I had been away from home a long time. My latest mission had taken me most of the month to New York, Chicago and San Francisco. I loved the travelling. I specially enjoyed that feeling of being on top of the world, flying across it, shrinking it to a dimension I felt I could fully apprehend. I did not mind living out of a suitcase. I stayed in fashionable hotels, meeting exciting and creative people. Of course some aspect of my life needed careful management. Meeting friends was probably the most difficult one. I also had to think about watching my diet and keep my exercise routine. In the end I was not doing too bad a job. My social life was full and at 33 I was in much better shape than at any previous point in my life: still very lean, my big boned frame had filled-up nicely with well proportioned muscles. I now found that most clothes fitted me well...You see I fancy my self-a little... Well let say those years of awkward doubt and questioning were long gone.
Despite my liking for being on the road, returning to London was always a joy. I love the City. It had become such an exciting place to be, so many people of different cultures and taste, so many ideas, so much money to be made and spend. As soon as I landed at Heathrow I could feel the chaos of the place pulsing, reaching me and causing adrenaline to pump through my whole system.
Well it was not just being at the airport that got me excited, but rather the sight of Renzo waiting for me on the other side of Her Majesty's Customs. That did certainly cause my groin to stir. I had to readjust myself as I could not help but stare at him with a lewd grin on my face. He stood there, so demure, so beautiful. His face lit up when he finally saw me approaching. So strange to think he had been so cocky when I first met him almost two month ago now, full of the assurance of the pretty boy. Here he was a little shy, almost coy! I kept staring. He is in so many ways the opposite of me. I am all Saxon, he is all Mediterranean, I blond tall and fair, he brunet, light olive skinned and petite, my eyes emerald green, his blue grey. Dressed with continental charm in a tight pair of jeans, black turtle neck and a sport jacket, he had obviously spent time on his grooming, hair recently cut, clean shaven and skin glowing. I imagined I looked rather rough after a full day of work in NYC and 7 hours flight. I had taken time to brush my teeth but not to shave and I had felt rather rough stubbles when spraying my face with fresh water.
I dropped my bags as he walk the last 50 meters towards me. I realised my starring and silence made him uncomfortable. I smiled at him but enjoyed his embarrassment too much to say anything. He tried as much as possible to control himself, extending a manly hand in an attempt to shake mine. His eyes betrayed excitement and slight confusion at my lack of response. Finally I pulled his arm and took hold of him sliding one arm around his waist and my hand under the belt of his trousers, with the other I steadied his head and gave him that long awaited kiss, taking full control of his mouth, his breath and his heart beat. We may have caused a bit of the stir but in the end the crowd moved on. When I let go of him, he tried to regain composure after letting escape in a sigh "Ooh Ian", a tear at the corner of his grey eye. He rushed to help me with my luggage and we search for my car service.
Renzo (actually his name is Lorenzo, and he does not like this diminutive which ^Ö of course - I enjoy calling him by) had insisted to come and meet me at the airport despite the fact that my air fare included a limousine service home. In the car we did not speak much, I too engrossed in feeling up every square inch of his velvety skin, He unusually silent and stern. I had to admit I did not know much about him. I had a hard time seducing him into my bed. His boy friend Luigi had recently broken up with him. On the rebound, he did not want to get involved. That suited me fine, I do not get involved.
I had met him at the gym I use in Covent Garden. Despite very different time tables we ended up working out at the same 3 to 5 slot every other day. The first week he was with his Italian crowd, three other guys studying with him for a post grade degree at LSE. I do not think he is totally out to them (he more or less told me so). I did not miss noticing him and made sure he got o full frontal of me in the showers. I wonder how his mates failed to notice what a cruising ground those showers are. That is Italians for you, so physically comfortable, so macho, so happy to show-off their bodies and touching each other that there are in great danger of getting into unwanted situations, or are they? He certainly was not! As soon as he had lost his friends and was working out by himself he returned my smiles, which led me to offer him a drink, and after a couple of dates at fine restaurants I took him back to my place. I am not usually such a romantic, enjoying much more the rough and tumble. Well, I did as soon as we got to my place despite a little subdued action. Somehow sex had not been especially steamy in the couple of weeks we had known each other. I felt he was always on the defensive, always trying to remain in control at least of himself if not of the situation: I can be pretty aggressive. In the end I felt he needed time and space and thought it may be worthwhile giving it to him. So I took it easy on him, I surprised myself spending time with him, not necessarily talking much, having vanilla sex, but some how feeling very comfortable. He proved himself a very gifted cook and quite domesticated, so when I had to go to the States I offered him to flat sit for me. I found out more about him through the trans-Atlantic phone conversation we've had since.
He was the single child of an upper middle class northern Italian family. His parents had both high expectations and a low opinion of him. His sexuality made his position towards them even more complicated. They expect grand-children. After graduation he felt he had to make a break for himself and chose London to have a go at it. The other advantage being that he has put a safe distance between him and his somewhat invasive parents. On the down side his boy-friend refused to follow him. In the long run I believe he would admit this was not a great lose but Luigi had been his only sexual experience before me. From what I gathered Luigi was a little princess expecting to be taken care of by her catch.
Just before the Limo reached Kings Cross my mobile rang. - Hi Ian, good flight? - Hi Mike. Yes all went fine, and I had the nice surprise of Renzo picking me up at the airport. Can we talk latter, we are just getting home and to be honest I have other things on my mind if you get my drift. - Humm, I do get your drift... one track mind. Actually what I wanted to talk to you about, my piece of bad news is personal. - What do you mean personal?
Next to me I could feel Renzo getting tensed .....
- Listen I really can not explain over the phone. Do you feel up for a drink tonight? - Yes sure, Shall we meet at your drinking hole? - That would be great, 7pm?
At that point Renzo interrupted: - I have prepared diner for you Ian; can't we spend the evening together? - Hi mate let say we meet at 6 .... - 6 it is then. See you latter. Mike hanged up. - Come on Renzo Babe (that one really pissed him off!), just for an hour we will be back in time for diner ... and desert... - Did Mike ask me around? - He did not say, but you are coming. - I don't know ... - Come on Babe, I have just landed and already you'd rather be by yourself - No I'd rather be just with you. - Mike is my best mate; he needs to talk to me. I am going and you are coming with me.
At that point the car was pulling off, we had just reached home.