SCATTERED STONES 3
USUAL DISCLAIMER
"SCATTERED STONES" 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.
SCATTERED STONES
by Andrej Koymasky © 2020
finished writing 24 March 2003
translated into English by the author
text kindly reviewed by Nick A.
CHAPTER 3
Amari e non esser amadu est tempus ingannadu
To love and not to be loved, is a waste of time
Early Sunday morning Martina went to Mass at the sanctuary. Damianu instead took Renzino to the high mass at eleven. For the occasion he wore his beautiful traditional costume, which he took out only on days of great celebration.
The sanctuary was surrounded by a vast courtyard, right and left there were two long sheds behind which were little rooms where the villagers and the pilgrims who came from the neighbourhood gathered for the feast. They were strong and tall men, like the rocks of their mountains, wearing their costumes in which black, red and white formed a nice contrast; mostly shepherds but also some farmers, some fishermen, shopkeepers and a few of the few noblemen of the region. They all crowded in front of the stalls where the liquors of myrtle were sold, walnuts or other herbs, the bread called "music paper," juicy slices of roast lamb, fruits and other foods and beverages were also sold.
The women, in their most beautiful costumes, went to pray or simply to be envied by the neighbours, and to be admired by the men. Damianu gazed absently at the happy confusion that reigned in every corner of the vast courtyard, and advanced holding hands with Renzino.
"My Dad! My Dad is there!" shouted excited the child tugging Damianu.
The boy then saw Ettore standing outside the church where he was talking with the priest Portolu. Damianu very rarely went to church and if by chance he came across the priest, he looked away. The last time he went to confession, a few years before, the priest made him uncomfortable asking him if he had sex and how. Damianu had not said anything about him and Ettore, had told him that he did nothing, in any way. It had seemed to him that the priest had not believed it.
Therefore he went straight ahead dragging behind him the child and went, almost in a hurry, into the sanctuary.
After Mass, Damianu found Ettore by the door waiting for them. The man picked up his son, then turned to Damianu: "Priest Portolu is angry with you, he said that you are seen too little in church and that it is like a century since you have made confession."
"He wants me to tell him things I do not want to say," replied the boy frowning and watching Ettore's eyes.
The man, realizing what his boyfriend was referring to, nodded, "I have excused you. I said that now that we no longer have servants, you have too much to do. He is not bad, priest Portolu, far from it. He has promised that today he will come and visit us and will talk with Donna Tana. Try to be gentle with the priest. If he cannot move Donna Tana, as I fear, in a few days I will go to see my friend Marcus Laconi. He promised to introduce me to an acquaintance, who has a lot of money and that maybe she would lend to me. "
While going back to the houses of the village, down the road, from time to time Ettore and Damianu threw themselves short but intense glances. For the two, the other's eyes spoke more clearly than the priest during the sermon. "You're mine, you're all mine!" Ettore eyes said. "I love you more than my life!" responded those of Damianu. "I want you, I want you." declared the man's eyes. "When will you make me again yours?" asked the young man's eyes, full of desire.
Those glances, short but full of fire, would have gone unnoticed to all. Only Matteo, for his special sensitivity and for the attraction he felt towards Damianu, was able to catch them and interpret them correctly.
Renzino, sitting astride his father's strong shoulders, twittered happily, pointing here and there things that intrigued him or that looked fine. The father answered him in monosyllables, on the one hand giving him some attention, but on the other immersed in his own thoughts.
Also Damianu was shut away in his own thoughts: "If I were a woman," he thought, "maybe Ettore could take me as his wife and I could stay in his bed waiting for him, to be his even in front of the world." It's not if not for this that Damianu really wanted to be a girl. For the rest he was glad to be born a man. But he thought that he would like to go around arm in arm with Ettore, to share the bed with him, instead of having to meet in secret and in haste.
Just being so close to Ettore, as was now in the street, put upon him a stirring, excited him, made him feel a keen desire that burned his flesh. To read the desire in the eyes of his man was both a comfort and a torment - he wanted to respond to that desire at any time, and not having to hide.
Damianu took care with his affection and devotion to Renzino; also, for the love he felt towards his man - he knew how the boy, with the head too big and the blond hair too sparse, was important to Ettore. Dealing with him was for Damianu like taking care of Ettore.
Back home, while Ettore was playing with his son in the backyard, Damianu helped Donna Martina to cook. But he never lost sight of his man, and now he wanted to be there on the lawn to enjoy Ettore in the place of Renzino...
Matteo came and went; he finished cleaning and tidying the rooms. The boy watched Damianu, and thought with some regret that it was a pity he was so taken by Ettore. He liked Damianu a lot and not just physically. Sometimes Matteo thought that if he could get with Damianu, he would gladly stop going with the others, also because he understood that Damianu did not deserve to be betrayed, neglected.
Matteo felt, besides the desire, to also increase his affection for the boy with whom he had practically grown up, and that was only two years younger than he. He would not yet call it "love" because men rarely admit to loving a woman, let alone another man. Yet this was precisely the sentiment that was growing inside him.
After lunch, in the early afternoon, priest Portolu went to visit the Dore. Damianu, who opened the door, greeted him with a big smile, to make Ettore happy. "Sit down, sit down priest Portolu! You are welcome in Dore House," he told him as he made to enter the hall.
"And where are the others? How are you, Donna Tana?" greeted the priest.
"Don Antonio and Ziu Santo went out for a walk. Donna Martina with Renzino is in the vegetable garden. If you want I can go call them. But sit down, take a chair, priest Portolu." Damianu said, quickly moving away and leaving the priest alone with the old sick woman.
The priest approached the woman's bed and saw that the old Donna Tana looked at him suspiciously. "What's that? You came to give me the last sacrament, priest Portolu? I am more dead than alive, but I have no intention of leaving, not yet! "
"No way, Donna Gaetana. But as I know that you would come to the feast of Sant'Efisio, if you could, but you are not able to come, I thought I'd come and greet you," replied the priest kindly. "I came to bring you a bit of consolation in this life, because we are here today and gone tomorrow. This life, long or short, matters very little if we do not prepare well for the life that will be."
"Well, when the time comes, the will of the Lord will be done," growled the old woman sounding a bit annoyed.
"But the will of the Lord must be done from now, here on earth, Donna Gaetana. It is no use to say it only when it's too late. We must get to that point well prepared."
"What! I have never killed, never stolen, nor ever did those sins that men and women commit with each other far too often. What sins do you think I can have on my conscience? Eh? Tell me," she said, raising her voice a bit, almost angry.
"It is not enough, not enough, my dear Donna Gaetana! No, not enough. Does not the Lord perhaps say that you must love your neighbour as yourself? That you must not do unto others what you do not want to be done unto you? Doesn't the Lord say that it is a sin to make money your god, putting it in His place? Does He not invite us to generosity? And you think He commands us to be greedy and stingy, and attached to money?" said the priest in a very decided tone.
"Ah, here! Here! Just because I have a little money aside, my money, that others would squander! This is why you came! Yes, yes, now I understand, now I understand!"
"No, you did not understand anything at all!" thundered the priest. "Nothing at all! You are stuck to your money more than to your own life. Keep it well hidden... and what do you do when the Lord calls you? What do you do, eh? Tell me, what do you make of it? Give it to the Lord to let you into his kingdom? But God cannot be bought, you know? He will ask you why you have not given it to those who held out their hand asking for help, who begged you, to those who need it more than you! "
"Ah, I understood, yes, I understand, instead. But do not presume to scare me with your chatter. First take care to convert those who drink it and eat it and maybe even waste the money in homes of persons of ill repute! Convert those, first, priest Portolu, and then we'll talk, " yelled Donna Tana with a voice so hoarse to seem more that of an old man than that of a woman.
"With you the charity of an advice is wasted effort. It is like washing the head of a donkey - a waste of water and of soap!"
"So do not waste your water, do not waste your time and efforts and leave me in peace, priest Portolu! God! You come to speak of God, but what did He for me? He nailed me on this bed, that's what he did for me. God is unfair; he gives health to those who don't deserve it and not to me. He is unfair, your God, " gasped the woman.
"Do not swear, at least, Donna Gaetana!" The priest replied grimly.
"It is you who make me swear, with your talk! Go away, go confess the sins of those who make them, not to me."
"Yes, saint Gaetana!" The priest replied sarcastically and left the house, red-faced.
Damianu had heard, from behind the door of the vestibule, the clash between the priest and the old woman and was furious with priest Portolu for having irritated the woman, rather than flatter her.
A few days later, Ettore decided to visit his friend Marcus Laconi who said he could introduce him to a rich woman that he claimed to know. The night before leaving, he managed once again to withdraw with Damianu. They met beside the old shed, as always. The man took the boy in his arms and pressed him against his excitement, kissing him with his usual ardour.
"This time I feel that I will find the solution to our problems, I feel that I will return with the money, my Damianu! Yes, and I swear, I will not come back home if I do not have the money with me. Rather, I'll kill myself!"
Damianu gasped: "Do not say that bad word, I forbid it!" he said with a boldness that amazed even him. "Yes, I forbid you. You should not think such bad things. Rather I will go to work somewhere like a mule, maybe on the continent, and I will send you the money. But you must not even think about such bad things! You must not! "
Ettore laughed bitterly: "And what can you do, boy? Even if you worked like a slave forty-eight hours a day. What could you send us, the loose change to buy tobacco for my grandfather Antonio? No. You can give me just one thing... and you know what I want from you. "
"And that thing is yours. You've taken that thing up there at the grave of the giant, and you know that I will always give it to you, as it is yours. You know it. I gave you everything I had, all myself, Ettore, you know it," replied the boy looking at him with sad but proud eyes.
"And then... give it to me once again, that thing, my Damianuzzo. Do not you feel how much I want it right now?" the man said with an excited voice.
"Of course I feel it..." replied the boy trembling, excited, so full of desire to give himself to his man, suddenly forgetting the reason for their argument.
He felt the man's hands open his clothes and his gentle hands ran feverishly to open the trousers of his Ettore. He felt a fever, hurry, and an urgency that was renewed at every opportunity they had and that in fact seemed to strengthen with each of their encounters. Soon, the bottom parts of their bodies were gently caressed by the evening air and by the strong hands of the man and the warm and soft hands of the boy.
Ettore kissed him again, with strong desire, almost taking away the breath of the boy with so much passion. Damianu felt terribly weak, but ready to give him his soul and body. The man turned him over and Damianu leaned against the tree as always, holding out his little and smooth ass towards the strong rod of the man, offering himself to his man's desire. And when he felt his man take him in a single thrust, gave a little sigh of contentment.
Ettore kissed him again with strong desire, almost taking away the breath of the boy; he was so passionate. Damianu felt terribly weak, but ready to give him his soul and body. The man turned him over and Damianu leaned against the tree as always, holding out his little and smooth ass towards the rod the strong man, offering himself to his desire. And when he felt him take in a single thrust, gave a little sigh of contentment.
The next day, Ettore took the horse and set off. Damianu followed him with his eyes until he reached the road that curved down to the left and the man disappeared to his look full of love. The boy suddenly felt alone, felt the emptiness around him and went meekly in the yard, closing the gate as if it were the door of a prison cell that locked him in the wilderness, and he felt like a convict, after an unjust verdict, who must serve sentence for an offense that he knew he did not deserve.
Matteo came home that same morning - he had been away for a few days. He had found a temporary job - he went to detach the cork bark from the big trees that were in the land of Ziu Spizi. He put aside the little money he earned with that job, with the blessing of Don Antonio, who believed that the boy would save it to find some day a wife and settle down. Matteo kept the money he earned in a tin box that he had hidden in a crevice of the wall, which divided the courtyard from the orchard.
Arrived at the cork oak, the boy was introduced to Ziu Spizi, who told him where to start and gave him the tools. Matteo went cheerfully to the point that had been indicated to him. Along the path he had greeted the other workers - he knew them all. When he came to his tree, he began to work hard, humming. He was pulling out the slabs of cork from the second tree trunk when he heard somebody call him. He turned and opened in a bright smile.
"Oy, Melchiorre! You too up here to work!"
"Oy, Matteo! How's life?"
"Life is good! It is I who do not do too well," laughed the boy.
"And why do you tell me that you do not do well, handsome and happy as I see you?" asked the friend approaching him.
"I'll leave it to your imagination. When you go hungry, you have to seem happy to not show it." Matteo said, making him a wink.
"That kind of hunger? How much is that..."
"Too much, too much always. And you, how's it going with your Kallina?"
"Finished. All over for more than a month."
"Did she dump you?"
"No, I dumped her. I got fed up with her. She's a boiled potato."
"But she's pretty, has a nice face and also a beautiful body."
"Yes, but... this no, not that, I do not like that either. A Dutiful Daughter does not do such things... She had been able to make me miss what you and I did."
"What is this, are you making me a proposal?" Matteo asked him merrily, wiping the sweat and, ceasing to work, looked at him quizzically and somewhat provocatively.
"It may well be if you... if you're free and you feel like doing it," the friend replied softly, slightly embarrassed.
"Yes, free, I am free, because the only person I really like is already with another. But now we have to work... unfortunately." Matteo said, watching him from head to foot with appreciation and with a teasing look.
Melchiorre was a great guy, especially now that a veil of beard made his face manlier. His body was slender but strong and, Matteo knew, a fine jewel was hidden between his legs, under his trousers. They were the same age, and as children for two years had gone to school together and their friendship dated from that time.
Then, when they were fifteen, they had met again, because Melchiorre was a friend of Paulu, who had talked about one to the other. So one day they had gone together to put traps in the forest, Melchiorre took him by the arm and, looking straight into his eyes, told him that he wanted to do it with him. While lying on the moss, they had begun to explore each other's bodies, until the urge had melted with the last hesitations and they joined in all possible ways as two teenagers in heat can do.
After that time they had met and had done it together several times, with mutual pleasure, because, even though they both liked more to fuck than to be fucked, each of the two boys let his friend take him and then took the other in his turn. They continued their secret meetings, until Melchiorre had started to cruise the beautiful Kallina.
And now here he is, Matteo thought, and still wants to do it. The fact that he had said that he preferred him to Kallina, gave the beautiful Matteo a sense of pride.
"Later, perhaps after dinner, we could find a quiet place." Melchiorre suggested hesitantly.
"With all the others around, we need to go too far." Matteo said to him, more to tease him than to refuse. He, too, in fact, at the very idea of doing it again with Melchiorre, was already getting a very pleasant erection.
"But I know a good place, and not too far away," the friend persisted.
"And where would this place be?" Matteo asked, pretending to be rather uninterested.
"You know the pylon of Saint Antioco?" asked the young man.
"There? It would be like doing it in front of everybody." Matteo countered.
"No. From there, if you take the narrow path that goes to the river and down the village on the other side, there are the ruins of the old mill. You can climb up to the attic, the part that still stands. The boards are still strong, and are covered with dry leaves, and there nobody can see us. "
"You've already explored the place?" asked Matteo, a little surprised.
"I went there with Kallina, even though, as I told you, we didn't do so much, she and I..."
"And what would you do with me there?" the boy asked with a sly smile, already determined to go there.
"The usual stuff - you do it to me and I do it to you. Like in the old days, right? You can go through the narrow road. I know another way, so nobody can see us leave the house together, after we have dinner. Maybe I'll go first and wait for you there. " Melchiorre insisted with a light of hope in his eyes, the beautiful colour of ripe wheat.
"It could be done..." Matteo said, pretending to be uncertain. He liked to play so with his friend to see him insist, to see the light shining in his eyes clear with desire.
"Come on, Matteo. We'll have fun, you know it. Did I ever disappoint you?"
"No, never, it is true." Matteo admitted, condescendingly.
"So then? Are you coming?"
"But yes, after all we are friends, you and me."
"You do not make me wait all night, right?" asked the boy with a shy smile.
"No. If I tell you that I come, I come. But like you said, not right away. You will wait a bit."
"I'll wait. Course I'll wait." Melchiorre said with a grateful smile. "I wish we could go now already ."
"And, please, do not start without me." Matteo said mischievously, "I want you full of desire, if we are to do it."
"Of course not, I'll wait, I told you. Then it's done?"
"It's done!" Matteo said, and went back to work at a good pace, glad for the perspective.
Throughout the day, from time to time, Matteo thought about the evening - he knew it would be nice. And he really needed it. Of course, if instead of Melchiorre there were Damianu, Matteo would have been even happier.
At last evening came. The air smelled of grass and of the odour of the forest. A mild and pleasant breeze at times swept the lawn in front of the house. The sky was clear and vivid stars that embroidered the black velvet were like tiny diamonds. The waning moon was still large enough to illuminate the path.
After dinner, while around the long table men and boys chatted and sang in the big common room where later they would spread their bedding, Melchiorre rose and, launched an eloquent look at Matteo, left through the back door, the one that led to the barn.
Matteo stood still for a while with the companions, joking and laughing with them. When he thought that enough time had passed, he got up and without saying anything, walked out the front door, the one that gave out on the yard. Nobody seemed to notice him. Outside, he inhaled deeply the good air that smelled of spring, and went, at step not too fast or too slow, towards the pylon. Hence he took the path leading down to the old mill.
There was enough light to see where he walked. As he approached the ruins, he felt the excitement and the desire awaken in him and become stronger with each step. Arriving in sight of the dark silhouette of the partially collapsed building, which made one think of a few crooked and bad teeth that protruded from the gums of a giant, Matteo called softly.
"Melchiorre?"
He saw the face of his friend lean out from a corner on the top, clear under the rays of the moon. "I'm here. Come up. The right wall is firm and is almost like a ladder. You see?" said the friend.
"Yes." Matteo said, and climbed nimbly, without any difficulty.
When he arrived at the ancient pavement of the first floor he saw the silhouette of his friend, in the shadow holding out a hand. Without taking it, Matteo made a long step and found himself on the plank floor. It remained only an irregular triangle, with two walls still standing and the third side that opened in the void. The angle of the two walls still held up a stretch of the roof, so that the whole formed as a low recess in which one could barely stand.
"Come here, I bundled up the leaves, so we'll be comfortable." whispered the friend.
Matteo came to him and put his hand between his legs feeling it: "It's already nicely hard. You didn't play with it waiting for me, right?"
"No, I promised you. Come here; let's sit down now. Let's strip away."
"You strip me and I you, like we did before ."
"Yes."
In short time they were both naked and fully excited. Then Matteo bent between his friend's legs and began to lick, suck and nibble his friend's member with growing pleasure. Melchiorre shuddered and muttered under his breath, happyily. Then in turn leaned on the crotch of his friend to give him the same attention. While lying on their sides, the slender bodies of the two boys formed a perfect ring of pleasure, simultaneously giving and receiving real pleasure. In the silence of the night could be heard only the faint rustle of their bodies on the dry leaves, and occasionally the sound of their sucking mouths or their low moans muffled by the firm flesh that moved incessantly, back and forth, within their mouths. After a while, Matteo pulled away by his friend and had him move away, "Sit down, sit with crossed legs." He suggested. Then sat in the lap of his friend, facing him, and girded his waist with his strong, bare legs. He then went down to be penetrated. The friend kept his member straight up with one hand, in order to make it creep without problems into the compliant hole of Matteo.
When he felt it well stuck inside him, and fully pushed in, Matteo put his arms around the shoulders and neck Melchiorre and by making leverage, helped by his friend who held him vigorously at the waist, began to bounce up and down.
"Do you like this, Melchiorre?"
"Yes, Matteo... finally... I really wanted it, I really needed it."
"Rub my nipples, come on," said Matteo.
"The nipples? You're not a woman." asked the astonished friend.
"Even a boy can enjoy to have them teased, not just women." explained the boy.
Melchiorre tried. Matteo had to tell him how to do it, more or less strong as appropriate, how to pinch or rub but without hurting him, until the friend understood how it was to be done.
"Like to a girl... Do you like?" whispered the friend.
"Yes, yes. Later I'll do it to you as well, and you'll see that you will like it too."
"How did you learn?" asked the friend.
"I just tried. If girls like it, I do not see why also a boy can not like it, I thought."
"But it is really good? Do you really like it?" his friend asked, a little surprised.
"After I'll make you feel, when I'll fuck you." Matteo replied.
"Go on, now... go on, Matteo, stronger, faster... I'm coming..." his friend urged him.
"Am I or am I not better than Kallina?" Matteo asked, hammering with his ass in the lap of his friend with more force and speed and making his anus throb.
"With her we just touched... she never wanted to do... anything serious."
"And you like, with me?" Matteo insisted.
"Yes I like... and at least I do not have to pull out at the last minute not to get you pregnant!" the friend chuckled and began to push up with increasing vigour as he felt the orgasm approaching. "Here I am... I am... I am going to come..." he gasped suddenly, then, with a long "Aaaaghhh..." he discharged into him hugging him with vigour and pushing up strongly with all his stake to pour all his manly load as deep as possible.
For a while they remained still. Melchiorre at times trembled and panted slightly.
"Lord, I needed it!" he sighed, while his breathing slowly calmed down. "Thanks, Matteuzzo. Now it's up to you. How to do you want me? Like so or in the doggie style?"
"No, you do not remember ? I like you to lie on your back and put your legs on my shoulders, right?"
"Yes, that's right. Get out, now. But... use a lot of saliva as is a long time since I have taken it there anymore."
"Do not worry." Matteo said, anticipating the next penetration.
He prepared his friend, leaned against him, and calmly and skilfully, he pushed it all inside his friend, "Okay, Melchiorre?" he asked, stopping for a while.
"Yes." whispered the friend.
Matteo started to move back and forth. Then he began to rub his friend's nipples with artistry. Melchiorre groaned.
"You're right... it's really good!" murmured the boy, pleased.
CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 4
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