Date: Thu, 12 Apr 2007 11:20:44 -0700
From: Michael Gleich <mgleich@earthlink.net>
Subject: Chronicles of a Cocksucker, entry eight

	I just left the coffee shop while on my lunch break when I passed a
travel agency next to the cafe. On display in their window were posters of
vacation spots in sunny Italy. One had the most beautiful man relaxing on a
pristine beach. Another group of guys were laughing and clowning behind
him. They were practically naked with bathing suits slightly larger than a
thong. They looked so carefree and natural with their arms around each
other, their slim waists, and gorgeous tans making their perfect white
teeth seem to almost sparkle in the sunlight. 'Italy, the other Rivera',
the caption read beneath the poster. I went in and grabbed some brochures.
	The next morning while sitting near the front window overlooking
the park in my apartment, I studied the pamphlets while having tea. Each
picture called to me, and Bill had said I should take a vacation, since I
had not done so since working with the firm. The money was no object and
the sex with Dan, Paul, and Bull had my body in fine shape. The definition
of my muscles gave me the look of a gymnast, no wonder, being tossed back
and forth by the three hunks. I called the number of the travel agency and
made an appointment to charter a vacation. Gary, the man I talked to on the
phone remembered seeing me the day I came in to pick up the brochures. He
said he would take special care of my needs.
	I'm glad I met Gary, we both were on the same page, and he told me
how fabulous Italy was and how much I would love it. He practically walked
me through all the steps of getting my passport and seeing to all my travel
needs. He said he wanted me to have a vacation worth remembering.
	He was right. My first visit to Italy was something I will always
remember.
	My first city scheduled was in Genoa, a very busy port city where
my hotel room overlooked fishing boats and part of the city. After I
unpacked, I decided to put on a pair of shorts and shirt I bought
especially for the trip. Made of hemp, the cloth hung just right on my
lithe body.
	I was walking down a cobbled street with shops of all kinds and
people going in and out carrying packages or bags with groceries and
sundries. It was a beautiful day, the sun was out, and the sky clear and
blue, when I heard a toot-toot from a horn. I turned my head toward the
street where a boy who looked near my age, sat on a yellow motor scooter.
	"You American. Yes?" his smile was just like the ones I saw on the
poster back home and he was built like me only he had darker skin and
beautiful black wavy hair. His smile sparkled with laughter and the lashes
of his eyes were long, giving him an almost child like look.
	"Yes, American."
	"Come, I show you the city."
	"How much?"
	He parked his bike and got off, and then walked over to me. "For
you, a kiss before we go," he then held my shoulders and gave me the
tenderest kiss on the lips right there on the busy sidewalk.
	I looked around, a bit sheepish after the kiss, but no one seemed
to notice or care.
	"It's okay. This is Italia. We kiss all the time," he said and took
my hand leading me back to his motor scooter.
	"Wait a minute, I don't know you."
	"We just kissed. Remember? I'm Alberto. You?"
	"Mike or Mikie That's what my friends back home call me."
	"Mikie-Alberto. Alberto-Mikie. Good match! Come get on, we go."
	I did, but before we left he turned around and kissed me again,
"For the road, as Americans say."
	I wrapped my arms around his thin waist and we took off, zipping in
and out of traffic until we came to a small street where we went up and up
along the side of a mountain. I held on and could feel the heat of his
body, the tightness of his stomach as we took the curves. It looked so
beautiful, the sea and the city beneath us as we climbed the road barely
the width of a car.
	Before I could blink, we turned unto a gated drive. There were
chickens pecking along side the driveway, and a meticulous garden of
flowers, grapes and vegetables. Lemons and orange trees shaded the path to
the front of a beautiful house. A villa they call it in Italy.
	"Mama," Alberto yelled when he parked in front. "Come meet my new
friend Mikie. Mama!" I got off in the middle of paradise. The city far
below and the sky billowing with clouds reflected on the blue ocean.
	"Alberto what is it?" A plump woman in a polka dotted dress and
white apron said as she came out of the house. Her hair was pinned neatly
in a bun, and she had flour on her hands.
	"This is Mama," he said to me.
	"Hello, I'm glad to meet you."
	"Che' Bella. Oh Alberto, he is beautiful. No?"
	"Mama we're hungry."
	"Yes. You go wash up, I make something special," then Mama grabbed
me and kissed me on the cheeks and lips several times, "You and my Alberto
look like twins. You must be brothers. Go wash up, we eat."
	"Come. I show you my room." Alberto put his arm around me as we
walked together, him kissing my cheek between saying how glad he was to
meet me.
	It was an incredible house. Made of stone and marble, the floors
were a beautiful dark and blue marble, and the walls were a light red
marble. Statues and paintings adorned each room. Huge vases were filled
with fresh cut flowers of every kind and doors opened to a fresh breeze,
scented by the sea.
	We went upstairs and into a room with a canopy bed. It had a
balcony facing the sea with the doors open and the drapes flowing in the
wind.
	"Come, I run the bath," He walked into another room and I followed.
	A beautiful bathroom with a marble sunken tub big enough for four
took up one side. Alberto turned the tails of golden fish and water began
to boil out from a large fish mouth between the handles. He reached over to
light candles and then graced the pool with rose petals from a basket and
poured rose water into the pool.
	"Take your clothes off," he said practically jumping out of his.
	I watched him disrobe and saw how beautiful he was. Much like me,
with a boy's body and face. Only he had a darker complexion, where I was
fair. "We look like salt and pepper," I said taking off my shirt.
	"Salt and pepper?"
	"Yes, we're the same but your skin and hair are dark, and mine are
light."
	"Oh, Mikie you're funny. I tell mama we are salt and pepper," he
came over and took hold of my dick when I removed my shorts and
underwear. "Even our pricks, are the same, but mine has a hood," he said.
	I took hold of his rigid dick and felt how hard and hot it was in
my hand.  "They are, aren't they."
	Alberto went down on my cock. He did it so naturally while the
water filled the tub and I watched the rose petals float in the swirl of
water from the fish's mouth while he engulfed my dick. His tongue rubbed
against the shaft as he sucked.
	My hands ran through his silky black hair. It curled around my
fingers. I felt his soft checks, and where his lips puckered around my
dick.
	"Alberto. I'm going to spill."
	He grabbed my butt with both hands and kneaded my ass cheeks for a
moment before pulling away to stand and kiss me. It was so wonderful-his
kiss, like butterfly wings against my lips.
	My hands roamed over his arms and chest. I felt the soft cushiony
feel of his ass and ran my hands over his cock and balls before I knelt and
took him in my mouth, savoring its delicious taste and texture. The hood
pulled back and I sucked to work my tongue around the hood and then down to
his soft pubes until my nose crushed against him.
	He held my head and moaned, gyrating his hips while I sucked on his
dick at the root. I looked up to see him smiling. His lithe body quivered
in rapture at my ability to please him.
	"Oh, Mikie, that's so good." He said before pulling away. "Lets get
in the water and then we'll lie down and make love."
	"What about your mom and the food she is making?"
	"Oh, she will call. Besides, it won't be ready for a long time." He
kissed me and took my hand, guiding me to the pool of rose scented water.
	How wonderful to walk down into a sunken tub of marble. The petals
felt so luxurious as we lay down in the pool. He came over, getting behind
so that I could lie against him and rest my head on his shoulder. His arms
wrapped around the front of me and with a large sea sponge, he gently
washed my face and neck. Then, with loving strokes, he caressed my chest,
stomach, and arms while kissing me.
	I felt his cock underneath me, rubbing against the cheeks of my
ass, and for the first time, thought if anybody would take my cherry it
would be Alberto. It was just the right size and felt so good rubbing
against my ass.
	I felt as if in a dream, not some twenty-four hours ago I was
flying halfway around the world in a dizzying whirl of planes and taxis
only to end up here, in this haven far from home.
	I asked, "Alberto, do you do this all the time to boys you pick
up?" while the sponge rubbed my cock and balls, he then squeezed it over
us.
	"Only pretty American boys," he said, sliding down and jutting
across from me with a splash to wash my feet and legs.
	"And you? You come to Italy for... what?" he bent to kiss my foot
in his hand.
	"For pretty Italian boys," I said splashing him and then taking his
foot, dragging him back to sit between my legs. My cock rubbed his crack
and he settled right in, when suddenly, my dick went in his rosebud as if
it was made too.
	"Oh, that feels so good, Mikie," he said squirming around on my
pole. I could feel his small ass-cheeks rub against my groin as he tried to
fit the base of my dick in his hot hole.
	"I could fuck you all day, Alberto,"
	"We would be Siamese twins. Joined with your dick in my butt,"
Alberto moaned and licked my ear.
	I pushed up and made him bounce on my cock a few times before
pulling out.  "I'll shoot too soon, you feel so good."
	He grabbed for my dick, "I want you too, Mikie. I want you."
	I pushed him down and laid on top of him kissing him with my tongue
deep in his mouth, feeling his little butt and the tiny rosebud I just had
my dick in. It was still tight and took my finger without so much as a
flinch from him.  We sponged each other and toweled ourselves with very
large bath towels. He then took my hand and we laid on silk sheets the
color of a summer peach on his big canopy bed. Our skin was soft from the
bath and slightly scented from the rose petals. The breeze at the open
doors blew gently across our lazy bodies.
	We laid there holding each other, gazing into each other's eyes
until we began to kiss and fondle. He turned to take my cock and presented
me with his. Its velvet head was pulled back and his prick was rigid as
bone. I licked at his hairless balls and smelled the fresh scent of his
little butt as he sucked my dick. We soon were blowing each other, each of
us taking our time sucking the others cock.
	We rolled entwined in our lovemaking; I could feel his tongue brush
across my butt-hole and then back again to sucking my cock. I did the same,
each of us pleasuring the other beneath the canopy of his bed. The breeze
blew over us as gentle as a breath of air. I could hear birds singing and
the whisper of pines just beyond the balcony.
	My lust for him grew and with one long deep suck, with my lips
fastened at the base of his cock, I shot my load and he into me. We laid
there in rapture, our throats full of each other's cock, savoring and
sucking until we parted and slept, holding each other.
	When I woke, the sun was just setting; I got up from the bed and
watched little Alberto. His dark lashes fluttered in his sleep. I kissed
him and then walked to the balcony and stepped out. There beneath me the
golden sun had lit the evening sky as it dipped into the water, changing
the sky to vibrant gold hues. The aroma of a home cooked meal floated up
and filled me with hunger.  I felt Alberto's hands encircle my waist and
his soft kisses on my neck. His prick was playing against my butt cheeks.
	"It's so beautiful here, Alberto. You must be very happy."
	"With you, I am happy."
	"Alberto? Mikie? It's almost time for supper," a voice outside the
room said.
	"That's Mama, we should get ready soon. But first let me show you
something."
	I followed him back into his room. His little butt so perfectly
shaped, bouncing on slender legs. He pulled out a large photo album from an
ornate chest of drawers and opened it on the bed.
	He showed me the photos and memorabilia on each page of the history
of his family. He had pictures of him as a small boy and child and of his
parents, and their parents, until there weren't any photos but small
paintings and writings in Latin.
	"How far back does your family go?" I asked.
	"We have the blood of emperors and popes in our family. We have
always been Roman." Then he pulled a small velvet bag out from a flap in
the large book and showed me gold coins with the impression of an emperor.
	"They have been passed down through the centuries in my family," he
said while I looked at them.
	"Wow, Alberto, you must be very proud of your family."
	He stood next to me at attention and placed his hands on his small
hips.  "Someday I will be Emperor of Rome."
	I knelt in front of him looking up at his small frame, his dick
becoming stiff in front of me.
	"And I will be your loyal subject," and then moved forward taking
his cock in my mouth.
	I reached around and held his butt cheeks while I sucked his dick,
and he soon put his hands in my hair guiding me on his cock. His body
shivered and then he came in my mouth and I swallowed it all.
	"Now I have seed from the royal family of Alberto."
	"I shall make you my husband when I am emperor," he giggled and
then ran to the bath and jumped in.
	"Isn't the water cold?" I asked.
	"It feels good though, come in, we'll be fresh for supper."
	I did as he asked and the water did feel cool and inviting. The
smell of roses still scented the bath and after we toweled each other,
Alberto gave me a pair of shorts and shirt to wear.
	"Since we're the same size, you can wear all my clothes, and I can
wear yours," he said.
	We looked in the mirror at each other and giggled, then Alberto
walked to the door and I followed him down the stairs and across the
house. As we neared the kitchen, the aroma of something wonderful grew with
each step.
	When we walked into the kitchen, all done in bright tiles, there
was a young woman helping Alberto's mother.
	"Oh Alberto, everyone is waiting outside," she said holding a big
bowl of pasta and walking to the kitchen's backdoor.
	Alberto took my hand and we walked out into a courtyard where a
long table was set up. There were fifteen or twenty people all around the
table. Alberto walked to the end where an older man sat at the head of the
table. Two chairs were next to him and that's where Alberto guided me.
	All along as we walked, people were calling out asking about
Alberto's boyfriend and what a nice couple we made. My friend introduced me
to his father.
	"Papa, this is Mikie, from America."
	"Mikie, please sit here," he said gesturing to a seat next to
Alberto, " My son is making you feel. Home?"
	"At home, Papa," Alberto corrected.
	"At home, come sit. Have some wine," he poured me a water glass of
wine from a large plain bottle. "We make our own wine, Mikie. You like?"  I
tasted the wine; it was a deep red and velvety with a dry almost plum
taste.  "Very good... Signore," I said.
	"Call me, Papa. And that is Mama," he said pointing down the long
table to Alberto's mother who was passing a large bowl of fettuccini.  I
turned to Alberto and asked if all these people were his family. He said
yes and some were people who worked for their family for generations. Some,
he pointed to a young man, go back to when they had slaves and his family
was one of the elite of Rome.  I looked at the youth at table, who had
beautiful dark eyes and a sturdy frame, and caught him taking a glimpse of
Alberto and me, but he averted his gaze instantly before I could show him
my smile.  "What does he do for your family?" I asked.  "His family has
always taken care of our gardens, all around you is the work of his
family's hands."  "He is very shy, and good looking," I said.  "He thinks
of himself as a slave. We played together as children and he would do
anything I asked."  "Anything?"  "Yes, but that's boring, playing with
someone who deliberately losses so you win."  "Maybe he loves you."
"Donatello is very strange, Mikie," Alberto said and passed me a plate of
grilled, baby artichokes drizzled with olive oil. "Have some?" he asked.
"Are these from your garden too?"  "And the olive oil," he answered.  There
was much banter going on at the table and mostly in Italian, but when
anyone talked to me, it was always in English and they made sure if someone
told something funny, that I understood the joke.  Plates of food passed
back and forth and the evening grew dark while the meal continued. The
patio however, had lights strung across where we sat, and the garden's
discreet illumination here and there, made the villa splendid in the
evening.  "Tomorrow, I'll have somebody get your things from the
hotel. Would you like that?" Alberto asked.  "Yes, but I don't want to
impose on your family."  "Impose?"  "Take advantage," Alberto took my hand
and looked into my eyes, "Oh! No, no. If you want, stay here. I would love
that."  "Great!"  "Mikie, I know a beach we can go to and swim. Some of my
friends go there. Would you like to?"  "Tomorrow?"
	"Yes, tomorrow."  "Sure."  He put his arm around me and asked me to
raise my glass in a toast to our friendship. We did and the whole family
joined in the toast.  That night, after a stroll in the garden and some
passionate kissing in a grove of olive trees, we went back to his room
where candles were lit for our arrival and fresh linen placed on the bed.
Outside I could see the moon rising over the water and smelled jasmine
wafting in the air. We made love on the canopied bed. I fucked his little
butt over and over, and before each fucking, I sucked him off so his
butt-hole would be nice and tight. When we were at last spent, we held each
other and drifted off to sleep.  In the morning, Alberto was up and running
the bath. I heard birds chirping outside and went out on the balcony to
look around. It was a beautiful day, the sky had a few clouds floating in a
blue heaven, and a warm breeze blew in from the sea.  Looking down, I saw
Donatello working in an attractive flowerbed. He was carefully weeding
around the delicate blooms of flowers.  "Good morning, Donatello," I
yelled, loud enough for him to hear.  I must of startled him, he rose
suddenly and looked around, seemingly not sure where my voice came
from. "Up here," I said waving to him.  He looked up at me waving and
looked surprised, "Sorry to disturb, Mikie," he said.  "You didn't disturb
us. Nice day isn't it?"  "Yes, nice day. Pardon, Mikie, I must go," and
with that he fled around the side of the house.  Alberto must be right, he
is a little strange, but before I could say anything to Alberto, he came
and grabbed me for our bath.  "I want you to meet some of my friends,"
Alberto said as he laid out some clothes and two very skimpy bathing suits.
"I have clothes at the hotel," I said.  "When we get back, all your things
will be put away here. I cleaned out these drawers for you," he said as he
pointed to a large ornate dresser.  I walked over to him and put my arms
around, bringing him close to me. "You are so sweet Alberto," I said before
pressing my lips to his.  We had a long series of kisses and almost ended
up on the bed, but Alberto said we have to get ready; his friends would be
waiting for us.  "I saw Donatello working in the flower garden below your
balcony," I said, as I buttoned the small shorts that just hid my ass
checks.  "Mama said he planted it for me, so that I could look at flowers
first thing in the morning."  "You didn't go out on the balcony this
morning."  "No, and I won't. I don't like him," he said looking in the
mirror to see if his cap was placed the way he liked it. "Come, let's
go. It will be hard enough getting past mama without her wanting us to stay
another hour to eat something." He turned to face me and took my
hand. "We'll have espresso and pastry in town Mikie."  "Great," I said,
hoping we would go to town, I've been in Italy for one day and before I
could see anything, whisked away by a beautiful Italian boy.  We walked
downstairs where maids were busy cleaning and polishing, and as we went by,
they all said hello in Italian and smiled. Alberto tried to get passed his
mother but before we got to the front door, we heard her call.  Alberto
looked at me and then the ceiling before answering, "Si, Mama."  Off we
went to the kitchen where Mama wanted us to eat before going, and wanted to
know where we were going.  "Mama, I'm a big boy now. Mikie and me are
eating with friends at a cafe in town and then to the beach with my friend
Drago.  "I don't like him Alberto. You be careful and take care of Mikie,"
with that she gave us a big sloppy kiss before we ran off to his scooter
parked outside.  As I waved goodbye, I noticed Donatello watching us while
working with his father nearby. He stood looking very sad and I couldn't
help but feel guilty, because he was the same age as us, and he wasn't
included in the fun.  Alberto whisked us to the cafe through traffic and
around carts and buses. It was exciting and at the same time frightening
the way he drove, and me clutching to his thin waist. The quickness of the
scooter was almost as thrilling as how my cock seemed to find Alberto's
crack. It was as if dick was made to fit between his ass cheeks. His little
buns would jiggle on the scooter and his crack seemed to open for my prick
to fit, snuggled in his ass checks.  He smiled as we went around a corner
as my dick dug deeper in, making him giggle, as well as me.  We pulled into
a side street and Alberto parked the scooter. The cafe was on a street
nearby. A group of boys was at a table that we walked up to.  "Who is your
new friend?" they asked, while I tried to hide the boner in my shorts by
standing behind Alberto.  "Mikie. He is from California," Alberto said
pulling me around to face them.  "Ahh, Alberto where have you been hiding
him?" they asked.  "I just met him yesterday at the Piazza. He is staying
with me."  "Oh, how nice of you to show him the delights of our town," they
said giggling.  "Mikie, sit down here," one of the boys said patting a
chair at the table.  It was a wonderful cafe. Baskets of flowers hung from
windows above, and the French doors to the cafe opened to the tables near
the sidewalk. An old iron chain held in place by the mouths of metal
horse-heads separated the tables from the pedestrian traffic with planters
that overflowed in flowers.  We sat down at the table. Alberto told one of
the boys to move so he could sit next to me. A waiter came over and Alberto
ordered us strawberries with an espresso and a croissant.  "So Mikie, do
you speak Italian?" one of the boys asked.  "I'm afraid I don't. Maybe you
could teach me?"  "It would be a pleasure,' he said.  I noticed all the
boys seemed well to do. They had stylish clothes on well-framed bodies. All
of them pretty, not masculine, but pretty with small features.  "I will
teach him all the Italian he needs to know," Alberto said.
	"And perhaps a few things more," one of the boys said, starting
them all to laugh.
	"Alberto, what are your plans today," one of them asked.
	"We are going to the beach. Want to go?" Alberto said.
	"With Drago?" someone asked.
	"Yes, he is the best swimmer."
	They looked at each other, for a moment and then one of them said,
"You should be careful, Alberto. Drago can't be trusted."
	"You are a bunch of silly girls. Just because Drago likes me and
not you."
	"He is mean, everyone knows that," one of them said.
	The waiter then came with our order and placed a bowl of
strawberries floating in cream in front of us along with a golden-crusted
croissant and a small cup of espresso.
	"He is not mean, and don't scare Mikie," Alberto turned to me and
said, "They like to dress up and prance in front of the tourist. Drago
dives for a living, selling shellfish to the markets. He is older than us,
but not by much."
	We sat there and laughed while the boys told stories of the tourist
they met. One of the boys was still in love with a boy from Scotland, whose
skin was milky white and dotted with freckles. A thick mane of curly red
hair on his head entranced the boy.
	"His skin was so white Mikie, that milk would have color compared
to him," he said.
	"You liked his dickie," one of them said.
	"No, he liked his creampuff butt," another said.
	"Come over tomorrow, we will have a party at my house," Alberto
said to the group as he stood and pulled some money out of his pocket and
put it on the table.
	"Oh, that would be nice, Alberto, can we bring a friend?" someone
asked.
	"If you have any," Alberto said, messing the boy's hair as we
walked back to his scooter.
	"Ciao Mikie, see you at the party."
	"They are jealous of Drago because he is so good looking," Alberto
said while we mounted the scooter.
	We drove out of the city and along the ocean, sometimes going up
the side of a cliff before descending the other side, along a road that
barely hugged the edge. Alberto turned off at a junction where a small
village sat in a cove. He drove past the fishing village and parked near an
outcropping of rocks that went out into the sea.
	I could see men fishing nearby in the bay in small boats, casting
nets, and near where the rocks made a natural pier, was someone waving to
us.
	Alberto waved back and took my hand as we walked out on the
outcropping of rocks. When we were near enough, the young man that was
waving looked like a Grecian God. Tall, well over six feet and slender with
thick black curly hair that glistened in the sunlight from its salty
bath. He had broad shoulders with a chest that made his waist look even
smaller then it was with six-pack abs that you could actually count. His
arms were a work of art, big biceps, and muscular forearms that held strong
hands, rough from prying shellfish from their anchored homes. His small
waist held a pair of swim briefs that clung to his butt and groin, and
beautiful legs that came from countless dives in the ocean. He was rock
solid and definitely eye candy for any sex. Even from where we were, you
could see he was well equip, the bulge stood out with him facing us.
	"Alberto!" the god said.
	"Drago, my new friend, Mikie."
	He scowled a bit before saying, "I told you not to bring your
friends here."
	"He is from America," Alberto answered as we neared enough to shake
hands.
	I held my hand out to greet him, but Drago declined the offer and
after a brief awkward moment, I withdrew my hand.
	Drago looked at me quickly, sizing me up I suppose. He then turned
to Alberto, "I told you not to bring anyone here."
	Alberto took Drago's hand and said, "He is not like the others,
it's okay."
	Near Drago was a burlap sack, and it looked as if a good catch lay
inside, "What did you catch?" I asked.
	"Shellfish and some lobsters," he said matter of fact.
	"We came to swim, I promise not to bother you," Alberto said with
some disappointment in his voice.
	"Go ahead, I have work to do before going to market."
	After that he picked up some goggles near the sack and dove back
into the sea, the flippers on his feet splashed us when he disappeared into
the water.
	"He is a little moody today," Alberto said, when he turned to me.
	Trying to sound convincing that the rude treatment I received by
his friend didn't bother me, I said, "He's busy working. I understand."
Alberto shrugged and took off his shorts and shirt, "What are you waiting
for? Let's go for a swim."
	"Won't we get in the way of Drago?"
	"He is far down, if you can swim that far down you might, but I
just swim on the top. I think he likes to watch me from below," he said
with a giggle.
	I wasn't too sure it would be a good idea, having someone like
Drago hovering around who was already ticked off about me being there
didn't sound appealing.
	"Is it safe?" I asked.
	Alberto pointed to a flat area near the edge and said, "Dive from
here," he then pointed to where a ledge below us that was near sea
level. "And you get out there."
	With that, Alberto walked over to the diving point and jumped
in. He swam like a fish, splashing water at me. For myself, I never did
anything like this but it seemed so exciting and I didn't want to look like
I was afraid, even though I was.
	Taking off my shirt and shorts, I slipped out of my sandals and
dove where he did. In no time at all I was swimming around too. The
seawater made the buoyancy of my body much better than in the pool at
school, and soon I was following Alberto exploring the rocky outcropping
and its splendor.
	Every once in while I spied Drago, he would glance over at us but
kept to his work diving and putting lobsters and shellfish in his
sack. Before he dove, he would splash seawater on the burlap to keep it
cold and wet.
	We had climbed out of the water and were sunning ourselves on the
rock when Drago walked over and stood above us. His body was magnificent
after his workout and his crotch didn't seem to shrink from the cold water
either. He said he needed to take his catch to the local fishmonger before
the man left to sell the day's catch in the city.
	"We'll wait for you," Alberto said.
	"Fine, wait then," he said without much fuss.
	When Drago climbed off the rock and headed toward the village, I
asked Alberto if he thought Drago was mad that he brought me here.
	"He's moody Mikie, that's all. He will be fine when he gets
back. He has no parents and this is how he makes his living, by diving for
the restaurants in the city.
	We sat there looking out at the sea. The sun warmed the rock we
were perched on and ourselves, and after our swim and the excitement of the
day, I felt very drowsy. We lay together, snuggled up and tired. I'm not
sure how much time passed but I heard someone clearing their throat and
looked up to see Drago standing over us. He was smiling, for a change.
	"Mikie? Do you speak Italian?" he asked.
	"I'm afraid my only language is English," I answered.
	"Someone in the village wants to know about California. Is it true
that California has the oldest trees in the world?"
	"Yes, it's true. The Bristel cone."
	"Ahh, is that the tall trees?"
	"Those are redwoods and they are old too and very tall," I said.
	"Could you talk to the man, he speaks very little English, but I
will help."
	Thinking I might break the ice with Drago, I agreed. Alberto lay
asleep next to me and Drago told me we would be right back.  "I'm sorry if
I sounded harsh," Drago said as we walked along the beach to the
village. "My only way to make money is to dive for fish."
	"I understand," I said and couldn't help notice how powerful and
beautiful he was. So natural with his body as we walked along, and I
thought, he isn't aware of how gorgeous he is. He could make a lot more
money doing other things than diving-with his looks.
	Drago walked very close to me, our bodies touching at moments, and
he gave off a heat and an aura of a very sexual nature. I couldn't help
notice the bulge in his briefs, now that the sun had dried and warmed him;
his package was unmistakably big and gave me a hard-on. I think he noticed
this and it didn't seem to bother him. He is probably used to people
getting sexually aroused around him, being so extremely good looking, I
thought.
	In the village, we went to a bar where men were sitting at tables
outside. One group, who looked like aged seamen, their skin tough and brown
with gray in their beards, and heavy wrinkles in their faces, greeted us.
	One of the men gestured for me to come over. "You American?" he
asked.
	"Yes," I answered.
	"Is it true, about the trees?" he asked.
	"Yes, as far as I know."
	"Sit here," he gestured toward a vacant chair next to him at the
table.
	"Wine?" he asked.
	Not wanting to seem impolite, I took him up on his offer. He poured
some wine into a drinking glass and offered a toast. I held my glass up
along with the other men and then answered their questions as best I
could. Drago would translate when the communication became difficult.
	It soon began to get very boring, they wanted to know about
California women and movie stars, and I was tired of trying to answer their
foolish questions. Finally, I told Drago I wanted to go back, and bid Drago
and the men farewell.
	I walked back by myself, the Vespa motor scooter was still parked
on the street and I followed our trail along the rocky outcropping to where
we played and sunned, but I didn't see Alberto. Looking around, I couldn't
find anything of ours to identify that we were there. I'm sure it was the
same group of rocks. I noticed the ledge we dove from and where we climbed
back out of the sea, but there wasn't a hint of Alberto, so I began to call
his name and look along the shoreline. I saw no one. Panic began to set in,
and now I didn't know what to do. At least his Vespa was still here so he I
knew he would come back and went back to sit by the scooter.
	When I got to where the scooter was parked, it was no longer there,
and I started to panic. My wallet, passport, everything was back at
Alberto's home, and I had no idea how to contact the authorities.
	What was I going to do? I thought. I don't even know the name of
the village I'm in, or what I should do next. It was now getting late in
the day. The only thing I could think of was to stay where the scooter was
last and hope that Alberto would come along tooting his horn and this
growing nightmare would be over.


The story will continue in the next chapter. If you enjoyed the adventures
of Mikie, I would like to hear from you. Please e-mail me at
mgleich@earthlink.net