Tuscany

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 contribution. This being said, I hope you enjoy the tale.

TUSCANY, part two out of three

by Marin Giustinian

PIENZA, TUSCANY, 2018

Hugh bit his lip, blushed a little, and softly stated, "Marco, I'm not afraid to share your bed with you... please."

Marco looked steadfast into Hugh's eyes.

Hugh didn't lower his.

"Marco, please..."

Marco touched Hugh's cheek, asking, "Are you sure it's not the wine talking?"

Hugh laughed, leaning in on Marco, and replied, "How does the Latin saying go? You know, the one about wine and truth?"

"In vino veritas..."

"Yes, that's it! 'In wine there is truth'... Let's drink to that, Marco!"

They climbed upstairs.

"There's a loo in the studio. I'm going to wash up some. Go ahead and get in bed. I won't take long."

Hugh rushed to the loo and pissed, his heart pounding. He washed his hands and privates in the small sink and returned to the bedroom. The lights had been dimmed and the sheets turned back. Hugh was entranced by the sight of Marco sponging his nude body, glistening as the water and foam slid down his slick chest, dripping from his well proportioned cock. A suave fragrance floated in the warm air.

"Marco, could you lend me something to sleep in?"

"That I don't have, Hugh... Don't you like to sleep nude?"

"I guess so..." giggled Hugh, untying the drawstring of his pants.

His cock, rising with every heartbeat, jumped out as the pants fell. Once stripped, he just stood there with his hands cupping his erection, watching Marco towel down. Marco smiled at Hugh's sudden shyness, came over, and gently took him by the waist. Hugh released his sex and touched Marco's belly. Their now erect cocks slightly pressed together, their foreheads touching.

"You're trembling, Hugh."

"I can't help it. I'm burning inside. I'm a flame, Marco! I'm on fire between your hands..."

"Hugh. I've never held anyone as beautiful as you, as generous as you are. I have to..."

"Please do..." Hugh uttered, trembling even more, his voice, ragged, almost breathless.

"I'm going to light a candle by our bed so I can see you... worship you, help your flame become a gleaming light, a torch, a beacon."

Marco brought the candle close to the bed, turned off the other lights, and slid up to Hugh under the sheets. His face beamed with wide open eyes as Marco hovered an instant over him. Then casting the sheets away, Marco slowly lowered himself, pulling Hugh closer to him. Hugh whimpered tiny, dove-like sounds as Marco kissed his neck, his chest, his nipples, inhaling his spicy fragrance of youthful, yearning abandon.

Hugh writhed, pulled Marco on him, clawing his back, thrusting his cock into Marco's belly. Hugh's fervour became a teenage tempest of lust, no longer refrained. Marco's mouth found Hugh's slender, gleaming cock. He sucked its tip, massaging it with his tongue. Hugh throbbed with increasing eagerness, thrusting ever so lightly.

Then that gracile lad, that lithe young Adonis, unleashing his male instinct, found unknown audacity. Hugh then squirmed around, grasping Marco's cock, nursing it, humming, sucking it with increasing greed. His sudden savage grace excited Marco. Frenzied in a craving for Marco's semen, Hugh bobbed his head, twirling his tongue.

Marco, driven wild by Hugh's recklessness, swallowed Hugh's now throbbing cock deeper and deeper into his throat. Lost in lust, Marco spasmed as his semen churned and spewed. Hugh gagged a little and swallowed over and over as he thrusted faster and faster. Then, clawing Marco's neck, he howled like a banshee, lost in the upheaval of his own erupting orgasm.

Panting, they both collapsed on their backs, squeezing each other's wilting cocks.

"Marco...?"

"Hmmm..."

"Did you see it?"

"What?"

"The heavens opening up and the blinding light and..."

"And?"

"And the scream of joy resounding?"

"The scream was yours. It wasn't the light of heavens opening, but the burst of light from deep within your heart finally exploding."

Hugh remained silent. Marco reached down and pulled Hugh up in a gentle hug. Hugh leaned over and delicately placed his lips on Marco's. They shared the first kiss in all creation.

They took their time as they began again at dawn. They drank once more of love's overflowing spring, then drew a bath for both.They washed each other ever so gently. Hugh giggled a little.

"I've never been so happy in my life, Marco! I can't believe I'm where I am, having done what we've done, being at last who I am... and free to be me, thanks to you. You rescued me in more ways than one."

"I think you're rescuing me too..."

"I don't understand..." simply stated Hugh.

Marco filled the sponge in his hand with water, and squeezed it over his head. As the water flowed over his face, he smiled, stating, "We say that scalded cats are afraid of cold water..."

Then he began bathing Hugh's neck and chest, caressing his cheek, "I was so traumatised after being beaten up by those travestite thugs in Rome that I was afraid I could never find love, so I waited... and then there you were, needing me... when in fact, I needed you. Now I'm no longer hurt, and that's thanks to you! Stand up and let me wash the rest!"

"I understand now," mumbled Hugh, as he knelt, then stood...and then laughing, he exclaimed, "And I'll take care of you after!"

As they were toweling each other, Marco inquired, "Hungry?"

"Starved!"

"We'll go have breakfast at the Casello Café. It's almost next door."

"Wherever you want! Can I wear your linen pants again... with the tunic?"

"Would you accept it if I say they are now yours?"

"Oh! my God, Yes! You don't like them anymore?"

"I like them better on you!"

The heat of the day was rising already. They enjoyed the coolness of the inside shade, savouring a small platter of pastries, fresh orange juice and two brimming cappuccinos. When they had finished, Marco suggested that they take a stroll around the town before the heat became unbearable.

Hugh admired everything he saw. As they were walking side by side, they bumped shoulders from time to time and stupidly smiled at each other.

"Do you like it here, Hugh?"

"Yes, I like it a lot."

"Would you like to stay longer, even after your bike's fixed? I'd love to show you around the area..."

Hugh looked at Marco with big, grateful eyes, beaming, and nodded enthusiastically.

"Great! We can visit Siena away from the tourists. I called my family and told them about you. They want to meet you. You'd be fascinated by the palazzetto, I'm sure. And, if you don't mind, I'd like for you to pose for me. You are so inspiring."

"Of course! What an honour! And if you want, I can give you a massage..."

"Only one?"

"All you want, silly!"

" I sometimes feel only tense instead of intense... Could we start today?"

"Whenever!"

"We'll just wait for Donna Giuseppina to finish cleaning the house and I'll put a closed sign on the gallery. Let's go to the coop and buy some groceries. We can eat in from time to time, if you like. I think it would be fun to prepare things together, don't you?"

"I'm useless in a kitchen..."

"No previous experience needed! Were you experienced in sex before we made love?"

"No..."

"And yet you were fantastic, daring, eager and tender at the same time!"

"Really? Was I that good?" beamed Hugh.

Suddenly less frivolous, Marco softly touched Hugh's smooth cheek and stated with a certain emotion, "More than that, Hugh... much more than that..."

They bought some fruit and sandwich food. Hugh slowed down in front of the wines.

"I've got a cellar full of much better wine than that..." asserted Marco, pulling Hugh away.

"Just looking!"

As they entered the house, Marco put the 'closed today' sign out. Inside, everything was clean as a jewel. Even Hugh's few clothes were folded and neatly stacked on the big table upstairs.

"Does your maid come often?"

"Donna Giusippina comes twice a week and more if I need her. She's a lifesaver and very efficient!"

"I guess it must be nice..."

"It's my little luxury I indulge in, living in this frugal abode!"

"I love your frugal abode. If this is frugality, I'm for it!"

"Where do we go for the massage?"

"If you have a mat or a washable beach towel or something because of the oil, we can do it on the floor right here. We'll just move the low table and push the cushions aside. Can I use the olive oil in the kitchen?"

"Help yourself."

"Is there one particular spot you'd like for me to massage?"

"Yes, all over!"

"That's not complicated!"

"Could you get a towel upstairs while I push the table back and pile up the cushions?"

When Hugh came back down, he found Marco nude, standing by the window. He spread the towel and invited Marco to lay down on his back and relax. Hugh fetched the oil and returned to kneel.

"Hugh, why don't you strip too? I'd feel better not being the only one naked..."

"Of course... how rude of me! Ha!"

A beam of sunlight fell through the small open window. A faint song of someone singing in the distance could be heard. The room was calm. Marco writhed some, stretching his arms. Hugh sat just above Marco's head pinning his arms under his thighs. He kneaded Marco's neck, the muscles of his shoulders, and his pectorals, he felt surges of energy flowing from the depth of his body, guiding his hands, as they poured warmth into Marco's flesh. Then leaning forward, he poured more oil between Marco's tits. He pushed and pulled, to and fro, slightly sliding forward each time, massaging his abdomen, then his pits. Hugh's cock lengthened, sliding beside Marco's ear, his pubic curls mingling with Marco's hair.

Marco hummed his contentment, caressing the silken skin of Hugh's buttocks.

Then slowly Hugh slid back, stood, and walked around to Marco's feet. He massaged each foot and then worked up the length of each leg. He then straddled Marco's thighs. Marco flinched as his leaking cock brushed Hugh's. He firmly sculpted Marco's straining penis, massaging around its base, delicately fondled his balls.

Sunlight bathed Hugh's hands as he pumped the shaft, twisting, squeezing and releasing. He paid special attention to the tip, pulling back the foreskin, revealing the perfect bulb of Marco's glans. He did this over and over. Marco was totally relaxed and yet he began to shiver. Hugh played on Marco's cock with delft fingers, deeply breathing in rhythm with Marco's heaving chest. Marco's toes began to curl, he moaned, his abdomen jerked, and he bucked.

Powerful surges of semen spewed like a fountain in the sunlight, falling in tiny pools, pearling on Marco's belly, in his navel, some oozing down Hugh's sweating chest as well.

Hugh's cock twitched but didn't ejaculate. Then he leaned over and softly kissed Marco's smile, rose and backed away. Marco uttered, "That was unbelievable! Absolutely divine! I felt like you were shaping me, sculpting me, instilling new life in me."

Hugh shyly looked at his feet, touching his very erect cock, and then smiled at Marco.

Marco stood, hugged Hugh, whispering in his ear, "Can I attempt to return the favour?"

"I yearn to feel your hands shaping me as well... But, please take your time. We have time."

"I don't know if I'll be as good as you."

"All you have to do is heed your heart. Your hands will do the rest."

"Hugh, you've just defined what art is all about!"

That afternoon, they organised the following days.

That evening they returned to the trattoria. Seeing Hugh with Marco once more, Livio exclaimed, "Still with us, I see! How do you do it, my Irish beauty? You are even more radiant than last night! Ah! The magic of youth... and you, Maestro, you're not looking too bad either... Hungry?"

"Famished!"

The little waiter ran up with a pitcher of Marco's wine. Livio announced, "I'm going to prepare something special for you... I don't know what yet... But, trust me!" He winked, turned on his heels and disappeared in the kitchen.

A little while later, a double serving of ravioli stuffed with truffles landed on the table. Then came a fabulously tender pheasant saltimbocca, smothered under a succulent layer of mushrooms and diced potatoes, all cooked in red wine.

When Livio walked up to their table, wiping his hands on his apron, he looked down at Marco and Hugh and said with a satisfied smirk on his face, "Allora?"

"Cosa dire? Stupendo, fabulous, a dinner fit for the gods."

"That's what you are my beauties! Gods! And you, my golden prince... How long is Marco going to kidnap you here?"

Hugh immediately replied, "I hope, as long as possible, Sir!"

"Marco! Do you understand what the boy said?"

"More than you can imagine, Livio... Too much more!"

Marco left a nice tip for the little waiter. Livio smiled. Then they both slowly ambled back to the house.

There was a message on the land phone saying that the bicycle was ready, sooner than expected. The following day would be dedicated to picking it up and then posing.

After quenching each other's insatiable thirst, they fell asleep. The song of a distant nightingale lulled them as they entwined together like two love-exhausted angels cuddling in some moonlit cloud.

The weather was perfect, a cool breeze had cleared the sky. A blatant, naked sun beamed in a deep blue sky. While having breakfast at home, Marco suggested that they go fetch the bicycle and then go down to a creek in the natural reserve nearby for Hugh to pose as he sketched.

"I know a shady spot where the light through the trees can hit the water and create a great halo effect. The water's clear. We can pack a basket for lunch, and even take a dip if it gets too hot."

"I'm all for it, Marco... but, can I pose nude there? Aren't there a lot of others around?"

"Very few people know about the place. If somebody finds us and sees you naked and me drawing, they'll understand and leave us alone... As you saw in the museums and even in the parks and gardens, nude men in art are everywhere here. Don't worry. If we're making art, and not in public, we won't get arrested."

The bike was like new. Hugh paid the repairman, complimented his work, and they loaded it in the van. After a short drive through the countryside, they parked near a small path, going downhill. Then they cut across a wooded area, through the underbrush. The rich earth reeked the smell of fertility, the air was laden with scents of pine, thyme and rosemary. The soft, giggling sound of a creek came to their ears. They pushed back a branch, and stepped onto a small stony beach. Indeed the light was unbelievable. Shades of jade shimmered in the gilded ripples of the flowing water.

"This place is incredible. In Ireland we would ask permission of the tiny folk if we could stay..."

"Tiny folk?"

"You know, the fairies..."

"If there are tiny folk here, they're going to love having you with them! Could you undress now?"

"With pleasure."

Marco spread the mat on the pebbles by the water. Hugh reclined and then shouted, "Look! I didn't know dragonflies could have intercourse as they fly! And the butterflies flitting around look like they're laughing at them. This place is crazy!"

"You blend in so well here. Are you sure you're not some kind of fairy yourself?"

Hugh laughed out loud, scaring the dragonflies. He shot a coy glance at Marco, and stated, "Don't you know? We're both fairies, Marco..."

"I don't understand..."

"We are fairies! You know, queers, poofs, homos, gays! Fairy's just another slang word for guys like us and your fathers..."

"I didn't know that. How cute! I definitely agree! Here with you, I feel like Oberon, the king of the fairies..."

"And I'm Puck, your impish ward!"

With that, Hugh struck a comical pose, laying on his side, propped on an arm with the other behind his head.

"Great! Hold that pose!"

They worked for a little more than an hour, took a brief pause, and a dip in the water, just to cool off.

"Can we eat now... I'm starved," pled Hugh splashing himself in the restless water. Marco was dazed at the vision of his fairy prince, gleaming in an array of flying drops, sparkling in an aggressive beam of midday sun.

"Are you always that hungry?"

"For you, yes! And also for food when I'm happy! And with you, I'm always happy... so?" he concluded with a grin and a shrug.

After lunch, they looked at the morning's production. Marco was quite proud of his three drawings. Hugh was clearly stunned.

"Is that how I am in your eyes, Marco? Is this how you see me?"

"Yes, Hugh... I see you, your beauty, and your presence... just like the way you are!"

Tears were swelling in Hugh's eyes when he leaned over and kissed Marco in the neck.

Hugh stuttered, "But I'm beautiful there, Marco... Loving you makes me beautiful... and makes me myself..."

"Did you say you loved me."

"Yes, I love you, Marco. I'm in love for the first time in my life!"

"I think I know how you feel..."

"Do you feel that way too?"

"I'm beginning to, Hugh..." he replied, and then mumbling to himself, he sighed, "and I'm afraid."

Because of the heat, they returned to the house. Marco called a friend who ran a well known art gallery in Montepulciano.

"Hugh, there's a gallerist friend of mine in Montepulciano who's coming over tomorrow morning. I invited him to take a look at our work. I need to have his opinion on this series we made."

"Marco, why do you say, OUR work? It's YOUR work! I'm just the model."

"You are more than a model, Hugh! You're my muse, my inspiration. I feel how much you give yourself in your poses. That's work too! I insist! It's OUR work!"

Marco made his point.

Hugh drank a tall glass of ice water, smiling at Marco.

"Here in the cool of the house, do you have enough energy to pose some more?"

"Always!"

"We'll work upstairs, in my studio."

In the intimacy of the studio, Hugh felt more concentrated than he had been by the creek, less distracted by the details of his surroundings. Marco had him pose on a platform. He put a washcloth and a bucket full of cold water for him to dampen himself from time to time. As Hugh posed, he pondered what Marco had said about giving himself. He felt his energy being absorbed by Marco. He felt Marco's energy bathing him with his eyes. He noticed the tension of his posture as Marco worked. That very subtle but powerful connexion made both of them sweat. Hugh's cock stiffened, humid, tingling as his balls churned a little hanging in their sack.

Marco was also aroused. His hand became a bit feverish as he drew. He stripped off his shirt, saying, "I can't go on like that... I'm too tense! Hugh, could you massage me again, I need to relax."

Hugh replied, "Go stretch out on the bed. I'll fetch the oil."

When he returned upstairs, Marco was laying on his back, nude, his eyes closed, his arms spread.

Hugh crawled up on the bed, straddled Marco's pelvis, and sat. He anointed Marco's chest and began soothing him with caresses, rubbing him gently from the throat to the navel. Then he delicately slid down, sitting on Marco's thighs. Suddenly, overcome with lust, Marco seized Hugh. Hugh yielded as they rolled over. Marco pinned Hugh on the bed, writhing on top of him, devouring him with kisses, licking his perspiration, grabbing his head, smothering his mouth with kisses. Hugh surrendered with joy. In a whirlpool of passion, Marco lifted Hugh's buttocks to his face and buried his tongue in the cleft, licking the twitching anus. His tongue sought its entrance.

Hugh was swept away, totally enthralled by Marco's strength, his savagery. Marco finally forced his tongue into Hugh's dilated hole. Hugh reached around and pulled his buttocks apart, opening himself even more, encouraging Marco's assault, offering himself with joy, revelling in the electric sensations he was experiencing.

"I need to make you mine!" Marco exclaimed as his index finger entered Hugh, rubbing his prostate, making him agonise with delight, moan, beg.

"For God's sake! Take me! Do it now or I'll die!"

With Hugh's legs sprawled on his shoulders, Marco oiled the sphincter. His agile fingers urged Hugh to open even more, with loving insistence. Hugh stared into Marco's burning eyes. He grabbed Marco's head and pulled him into a growling kiss, sucking his tongue, trembling, impatient.

Marco slathered his cock with oil. Hugh grabbed it, pulling it to his hole, then clawing Marco's buttocks, pulled. Marco sunk in, just like that. Hugh gasped, startled, beaming, and began twisting Marco's cock inside him.

Marco pushed, penetrating deeper and deeper into Hugh's vibrant flesh. Hugh's most intimate muscles clamped Marco inside him. Sweat was dripping, mingling, drenching the sheets. Marco hastened his pounding. Hugh screamed, hunching up into every thrust.

And then, that sudden, frozen instant, immobile, eyes bulging, breath held, the eruption. Marco spewed deep into Hugh. Hugh erupted, shook by violent spasms, howling. Over and over, they came, screaming, then whimpering, finally sighing, spent, ecstatic.

After a long moment, Marco's limp cock slipped out of Hugh who still laid there, ravished, his head slightly thrown back, hanging off the edge of the bed.

Overwhelmed by such a vision, Marco devoured Hugh with his eyes, engraving the vison in his brain. His sovereign prince, totally abandoned to his bliss had possessed Marco's soul, having himself been possessed by Marco's bewildering love.

Marco hastened into the studio. He was compelled to seize the vision of Hugh's ecstasy. Coming back to his senses, Hugh tiptoed up behind Marco as he put the last feverish touches on his masterpiece, on their masterpiece...

Hugging Marco from behind, Hugo kissed him in the neck, and uttered, "Both of us in one..."

The following morning Paulo, Marco's friend from Montepulciano met them in the gallery. He was enthused over Marco's new drawings. He immediately asked Marco to frame them and bring them over. He even said he'd love to have more.

"Il tuo amico irlandese mi stupicse di bellezza. Sei fortunato di essere gay!" commented Paulo.

Marco laughed and repeated for Hugh, "He says that you overwhelm him with your beauty and that I'm lucky to be gay!"

"We're both lucky!" replied Hugh.

"Siamo entrambi fortunati!" translated Marco for Paulo.

Paulo sighed, showed a thumbs up, tilting his head.

Marco said they would bring the framed pictures over the next day. They wanted to visit Montepulciano anyway.

"Pranzo al Poliziano! Va bene?"

"Okay!" replied Marco, "He's inviting us to lunch in the best restaurant for miles around!"

"It can't be better than Livio's!"

"You'll see..."

They spent the day framing the drawings. Marco had the material in his storage room. He and Hugh had fun pasting the drawings on plywood, varnishing them and fitting them into their simple wooden frames. The effect was perfect.

That evening they drove over to Sant'Attimo, a convent near Montalcino where the brothers sang a pure Gregorian Chant at Vespers. They sat in the rear of the chapel, holding hands, both with their eyes closed as the voices of the monks made them soar.

Once outside, Hugh was silent. The clouds were ablaze in the setting sun. They both sighed, then looked at each other.

"Ti amo, Hugh. Non devi partir..." simply stated Marco...

"What did you say?"

"I said I love you and that you cannot leave..."

"Oh! Marco, during the ceremony in the chapel, I was praying to stay... But... But... he choked down some tears... That's all so complicated for me!"

"I know it is, Hugh, however, if..."

Hugh's kiss covered Marco's sentence.

Once the kiss was over, Marco whispered, "You're right, my fairy prince... Best not talk about it..."

That night, Hugh took Marco's anal virginity. He revealed himself to be nearly as wild as Marco, but a little less impatient. Luckily, Hugh's slender cock didn't have to force too much to enter, giving Marco the thrill to discover a whole new dimension of being a human male. He was subjugated by the beauty of submissiveness, concentrating on both Hugh's eagerness and his own interior awakening. Hugh undulated on Marco's back, like a dolphin in a rising tide. Their legs writhed together as he bit Marco's neck. Marco pushed up in sync with Hugh's thrusts, their dance flowed, on and on, seemingly endless, hopefully endless. Hugh's rhythm quickened. Marco sensed the forthcoming climax. He clenched his buttocks, clamped his sphincter around Hugh's vibrant cock and the dance accelerated, climbing, soaring. Marco felt as though they were flying, united in a spinning ascension to a cosmic conclusion. Then it happened, in a flash of splendid agony, like a collision of twin stars, their orgasms fused, welding forever their souls into one.

Henceforth, they knew that their destinies were sealed forever. Be it sooner or later, they were now vowed to belong together, come what may.

The following morning they packed their overnight bag, delivered the framed drawings, enjoyed their tour of Montepulciano and the lunch. Hugh said it was good, but not love-food like Livio's. Marco agreed. It was close to two-thirty when they drove off, heading to Siena.

Hugh recognised several places he had seen on the road coming down. They had to park a bit far away from the Palazzo Gabrielli. The maze of little streets in the historical centre of Siena were not designed with automobiles in mind. They took their overnight bags and Marco carried the smaller framed picture of Hugh, the last one, the one of his ravishing -- and ravished prince. They had to walk for about five quick minutes before stopping in front of the tall, imposing door of the town palazzo in its sculpted stone and brick facade. Marco punched in the code and the massive door slowly opened, giving onto a small courtyard. Armando and Douglas were waiting for them on the front steps.

After both had kissed Marco, looking at Hugh, Armando exclaimed, "Veramente bello!"

"Goodness gracious, darling! Yes, he is! You talk about a delicious morsel of gorgeousness, honey! That he is! You must be Hugh! We've heard a lot, and I mean a WHOLE lot about you on the phone and were dying to see for ourselves! Welcome to our modest home!" twittered Douglas, the Charlestonian super queen, twitching around on the steps, fanning himself. "Boys, it ain't been this hot for ages! Come on in."

Hugh was quite impressed by Douglas. Marco chuckled, whispering, "I said they were a bit special... and you haven't met grandmother yet!"

They were ushered inside. Hugh's eyes were everywhere. The staircase was monumental, the chandelier dripped its crystal drops from a ceiling of painted cherubs, rollicking in pink and blue clouds.

"Take your things up to your room, my loves. We're having drinks in the music room with Alma, and hurry up, you adorable pair of rogues!" ordered Douglas, tapping Marco on the rear with his fan.

They climbed the stairs. Hugh was a bit stunned. They went down a hall, Marco opened a mahogany door. The marble floor gleamed in the slanting sun, peeking through the drapes. The fourposter bed throned on one end facing a gigantic chest of drawers on the other.

"Dump your bag on the chair. The bathroom's behind that door, the other door's the closet and dressing room."

"Is this what you grew up in?"

"It's a bit too much, isn't it?"

"Well,... It's really different from your house and totally different from mine... I've only seen places like this on television!"

"Now you can understand why my place is so frugal... Living in this space cluttered my mind! There's too much of everything everywhere! I couldn't create for myself, by myself, on my own. That's why I live were I live. My fathers say they understand me... but I doubt it... You'll see!"

"Whatever you say is fine for me... Just hold me for a minute or two. I feel intimidated!"

"Come here, Prince, just don't pay attention to all the ghosts hanging around in this house! You and I, we belong to the future... and never forget it!"

They hugged a long moment. Then, Marco picked up the picture and they hurried down, hand in hand, crossing one room and then another... to finally enter a moderately small, barocco drawing room with a grand piano.

Walking up to a very stately lady with a gigantic, white chignon on her head, Marco introduced Hugh, "Nonna Alma, ecco Hugh, mi ispiratore,"

His grandmother smiled, gave him a kiss on the forehead and then looking at Hugh stated, "Grande! Proprio grande, amore mio! Vieni qui. Voglio toccarti!"

Hugh looked worried. Marco said, "You don't have to kiss her hand, she just wants to touch you."

Hugh stepped forward. She smiled, caressing his cheek. Hugh blushed.

With that Douglas came storming in, pushing the whiskey cart, followed by Armando, carrying a big fat cat under each arm.

"Alma! Stop trying to seduce that gorgeous creature! He belongs to your grandson!" laughed Douglas.

"Mamma, please do behave!" added Armando.

"Go to hell both of you! He's absolutely delightful!" retorted Countess Alma grabbing Hugh by the waist.

"I told you so..." winked Marco. Hugh just stood there, stupefied.

Then glaring at her son and his partner, acting like an offended lady, Alma readjusted her hairdo, strode across the room and commanded, "Il mio whisketto, raggazzi!"

"She's been sexed up like that ever since she bought those fake leopard skin pants she's wearing, but don't worry, she's better after her drinks... Tell me, what have you been up to lately?" inquired Armando in English to the boys.

"This!" Marco stated, handing the picture to his father.

"Fantastic! That's you isn't it, Hugh?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Call me Armando..."

"And me, call me Douglas, you sweet little love-bird!"

"Don't mind him, Hugh... He's from South Carolina... and is always like that... Aren't you, sweety-pie?" claimed Armando.

"Yes, I am, darling!" he whined, strutting across the room handing Alma her scotch on the rocks, "And what is that adorable friend of yours having to drink, Marco? Jameson Irish whiskey or good old Jack Daniel's Tennessee bourbon?"

"Jameson for me, like Alma, and..." he shot a questioning glance at Hugh.

"I'll have the same. My father drinks Jameson."

"Well, darling, for an Irishman, that seems downright appropriate!"

"But I've never had any to drink myself..."

"Listen, sweetheart, you just sip it a tiny bit at a time and you'll see. Don't do like the Countess! She can outdrink a mule driver!" drawled out Douglas, pouring a small shot over the ice cubes.

"You have made great progress with your art, Marco," spoke up Armando, still studying the drawing.

"I've excellent inspiration, Dad!"

"I agree," snapped back Armando, flashing a gigantic smile at Hugh.

Hugh dared say, "May I ask a question, Sir?"

"Of course, my lad!" replied Armando.

"Who plays the piano?"

"The cats! This tabby cat is Brahms and the other one is Beethoven. Nobody else knows how to play in this house. I tried to have Marco take lessons. It was a disaster! Wasn't it, my boy?"

"Well I didn't like the teacher. I learned how to play only one tune, but it was better than what those horrible cats do!"

"Barely better, honey!" pitched in Douglas, blowing a kiss.

With that, the maid came in and informed the little party that the dinner could be served. Armando opened the lid of the keyboard and the cats hopped up on the ivories. They went out of the room, escorted by the cats' strange sonata. Marco slammed the door behind him leaving Brahms and Beethoven to their meaningless duet.

Hugh couldn't stop giggling as they both staggered a bit, slowly climbing the stairs to retire in their quarters.

"Your family is absolutely adorable! Crazy as bats and adorable. The meal was delicious too. I love your Countess Alma. She must have been a very beautiful lady when she was young," said Hugh, slurring a bit.

"She drove her first husband crazy and my grandfather had a massive heart attack while they were having, as it is said, very rambunctious sex. I'm glad you like them. They're the only family I've got... My grandfather used to say, 'Gentlemen have limits; aristocrats have none' and that's what killed him!"

"Are you sleepy, Marco?"

"Not really..."

As they was undressing, he stated, "Good timing! I'm not sleepy either!"

End of part two out of three