Date: Sat, 03 Sep 2005 09:16:09 +0200
From: A.K. <andrej@andrejkoymasky.com>
Subject: Italian Brothers 2 - Tano & Maso - 05/11 (historical)

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ITALIAN BROTHERS 2
TANO & MASO
by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2005
written September 2nd, 1993
translated by the author
English text kindly revised
by Matt & Dave

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USUAL DISCLAIMER

"ITALIAN BROTHERS 2 - TANO & MASO" 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.

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CHAPTER 5. With Felice

Gaetano and Felice ate their supper together, in silence.

After they ate, the sky was almost dark. Felice said to him, "I'll go
get my cloak. We will be comfortable in it..."

Gaetano understood and nodded, and recalled that first night with the
Moor there on the ship. It seemed like such a long time ago. They had
something in common, Felice and the Moor -- a kind of rough gentleness
that gleamed through their eyes. The Moor was perhaps more handsome than
Felice, but the bandit shared his sorrow with him, and Gaetano felt this
was something rare, important, precious. Yes, he would give himself to
Felice quite willingly, as anyway, now what did it matter...

The man came back with his wide, round shaped thick cloth cloak, and
spread it on the ground, folded in half, "Come here, let's lie on it,
then we will fold the other half on top of us. The nights are quite cool
now, up here, but we will be warm, with two layers under us and two on
top," he explained.

They took off their shoes and settled themselves. Felice girded the boy
with his arm and pulled him to himself.

The boy asked him, "Do you want me to take off my breeches?"

"No not tonight. Let's just stay like this, close, to comfort each other
of our sorrow..."

Gaetano felt grateful for that, and he curled against the man to make
him understand it. Felice caressed him for a long while. The man was not
handsome, but Gaetano didn't care about that at all. He could feel he
was a good man, notwithstanding he was a bandit, a killer. He wondered
how the man's life would have been if he could remain near his Riccardo.
Possibly happy, he thought. Then he wondered what would become of him.
Would he become a bandit too? But he had nothing and nobody to revenge.
He was nothing but a drifting twig. But Felice was also like a branch
going adrift. They both had lost the joy of living.

The warmth of the man's body, almost wrapping him, and his light
caresses, at last infused in him a sensation of quietness that although
couldn't subdue his pain, at least made him feel less lonely in the
world. He felt tenderness for that man who at first made him so scared;
for that man who took him as his booty, to "make it pass" using him, but
then freed him and not only now was respecting his sorrow, but was
sharing it; for that man who, like him, loved another boy, and so
dramatically lost him. And gradually he slipped in sleep.

When he woke up, Felice was no longer there. He was still wrapped in the
man's cloak. Rubbing his eyes, he stood up and stretched his muscles. He
looked around with his eyes for the man and saw him downhill not too far
away. He was bare-chested and was vigorously washing himself in a
stream. So, without putting on his shoes, he went down near him and
Felice saw him.

"Hey little finch, wash yourself too, go on!"

Gaetano followed suit. He also washed, bare-chested. Then saw the man
taking out two sharp scabbards and for a short moment he felt scared,
but Felice, sitting on a stone, using the blade of one of them like a
mirror, used the other to shave himself. The boy was looking at him
absorbedly. The man had a nice chest, wide, strong, well shaped. With
his beard shaved, Felice looked less frightening, and rather agreeable.
He also seemed younger.

Then the man carefully picked some green leaves, gathered a handful and
gave half of them to the boy, "Brush them briskly on your teeth, one at
a time, like this... If you keep your teeth clean, they will still be
healthy when you became an old man."

Gaetano nodded and did the same thing. The leaves were rough but
flexible, and left a little bitter aftertaste in the mouth, which was
rather good. They put on their shirts and went up to the place where
they slept. Felice shook his cloak and carefully folded it and rolled it
up.

"Come, I'll show you to the others. Then you'll fix us some food while
we clean and look after our weapons."

Gaetano followed him. The other four men already lit a fire.

"Here is Tano," the man simply said, "and this is Gerzo, this is
'Gourd', this is Martino and he is Gabriello. Go with him and he'll tell
you what to cook."

The men looked at the boy without saying a word, without hostility or
curiosity. Gabriello explained to Gaetano what he had to do and the boy
started his work at once. Meanwhile he quietly observed the men.

"Gourd", in spite of his nickname, was probably the most handsome. He
was somewhere in his thirties. He had fine features, almost chiseled,
made just somewhat harder by a frowning expression. His hair was almost
blond, tightly curled, voluminous, and he had gray-aquamarine eyes. He
had a lean body, possibly even more so than Felice, but in it you could
definitely see remarkable strength and nimbleness. He had long and
tapered hands with which he was sharpening a scabbard, with slow and
exact movements -- they seemed like the hands of an artist.

Martino was perhaps the oldest among them. He was probably around
forty-five years old. He was tall, powerful. He had thick, black
eyebrows that almost connected in the center, making his glances look
grim, black hair, a little bald at his temples, a strong jaw, a straight
mouth with thin lips, hands as big as shovels, and a deep glance with a
cold light on it that made one think that the man could be dangerous.

Gerzo on the contrary was stocky. He made you think of a bull. He had
lively and wily eyes, contrasting with a somewhat button nose. His hair
was stringy, of a clear brown color, and was rather thin in the center
of his head, which almost looked like the tonsure of a friar. He was
cleaning the barrel of his firelock with almost loving care but his eyes
darted continually at his mates, almost as if he was studying them one
after the other. From time to time, he had a darting light in his eyes,
almost as if he was about to sneer at everything and everyone.

Gabriello had to be around thirty-five years old. His slightly irregular
facial features, barely marked by a prickly beard of a dark brown color,
made him look interesting. He was the tallest among the five men, mainly
because his legs seemed to be longer than normal. He was carving
something with his knife on a piece of wood, handling the blade with
incredible skill and precision. Gabriello watched what Gaetano was
doing, and from time to time, he intervened with some concise advice.

When the food was ready, they ate. "Gourd" groaned a half appreciation
for the boy's work. After eating, Gabriello, Felice and "Gourd" went to
hunt some game for their lunch. Martino went to watch their den and
Gerzo remained near the fire with the boy. He pulled out a small cane
flute and started to play it.

Then, looking at Gaetano with his wily eyes, he said, "So, you now are
Felice's boy."

"Yes."

"Did he break in your ass? What did you two do last night?"

"Ask him, not me," the boy answered quietly.

The man burst into laughter, "A very good answer. You told me to mind my
own business without actually saying it. I like you, boy. Where are you
from?"

"I am from Civitanova."

"Oh a Marche's boy. But you don't talk like one."

"No, I was born in the north."

"Doesn't that place have a name?"

"Yes, it's Costa."

"Costa? Where is it?"

"In Venice territory."

"I see, under the Austrians, then."

"That is right."

They kept silent for a while, then Gerzo asked, "Do you like Felice?"

"I'm his boy," Gaetano answered.

Gerzo again laughed, nodding in approbation, then said, "Go to gather
some firewood for our lunch, we have to prepare the embers, if our mates
are lucky."

Gaetano complied. He was walking around to gather dry wood, and suddenly
he found himself in front of Martino.

"What are you doing here?" the man asked sharply.

"Looking for firewood..."

"Go in that direction and don't come back to these parts, understood?"

Gaetano nodded. He guessed he must be near the hideout.

He was about to go away, when the man called him, "Stop. Come here. Put
down your firewood."

The boy obeyed and looked at the man, asking himself what he could want
from him. The man looked at him up and down for a long while, in
silence. The boy wondered about the reason for that examination.

The man said, "Come closer."

Gaetano went near him. The man tested his biceps, then his belly
muscles, then his legs. The boy feared he wanted his "company" and asked
himself what he could do.

But the man said, "You are strong, used to hard work. Yes, you can be
able to live with us. Take your wood back, now."

Inside himself, Gaetano drew a relief sigh, took up his load again and
went away.

The embers were almost ready when the three men came back. They caught
two hares and a little boar.

"We have brought back lunch and supper!" Gabriello announced with pride,
"And without firing a single shot -- my traps worked nicely."

He called Gaetano and taught him how to skin the animals and then how to
roast them. A short while later a delicious smell seemed to fill the
bandits' camp. They called Martino, who arrived with a full wineskin.

Gaetano never ate such good food in his entire life. And he also drank
with the men, who passed the wineskin to him. When the meal was over,
possibly because of the wine, the boy felt light and slightly merry.
Felice took the bundle of his cloak from a corner and gestured to
Gaetano, who readily followed him.

They went far from the camp, climbing uphill, to a small grassy clearing
with trees and bushes on one side and a ravine on the other side.

"Here. Here it's good." Felice only said, spreading his cloak.

The boy understood and started to take off his wide shirt, then took off
his shoes and went on the cloak. The man looked at him in silence.
Gaetano untied his breeches and let them slip down to his ankles, got
out of them and kicked them aside with his foot. He stood up there,
naked under the sun, looking quietly at Felice. The man nodded with a
satisfied expression, and with an instinctive and mechanical gesture, he
licked his lips with his tongue. And he also started to undress himself.

Gaetano looked at the body that was gradually unveiled and thought that
the man was not bad at all. He first saw his chest, covered by thick
clear hair, where his small firm nipples stood out clearly, his muscled
and strong arms, his slender sides, and his flat and tense belly. Then
his firm hips, and his already erect, vigorous member, jutting out from
a bush of curled brown hair, between his powerful and shapely legs. Now
the boy also started to get aroused, and the man, noticing it, smiled
contentedly and went near him.

"You are well developed, to be only eighteen. Yes, you are handsome, I
like you," he said and seized him by his sides, pulled him to himself,
almost raising him from the cloak and kissed him on the mouth, making
him tilt back his head.

Gaetano had to close his eyes because the sun was directly in his eyes,
and savored the agreeable taste of that deep kiss, and his member
palpitated against the man's belly. Felice excited, still holding him
tightly against himself, slowly knelt on his cloak between the boy's
legs and leaned down towards him on the cloth, lying on top of him.

"Am I heavy, little finch?"

"No..."

Felice kissed him again, caressing his sides. Gaetano caressed the nape
of man's neck with one of his hands, and the man's wide and powerful
back with the other hand.

"Are you ready?" Felice asked him, shivering with desire.

"Yes, I am..."

The man raised himself a little and knelt again, between the spread legs
of the boy.

"Do I have to turn over on my belly?"

"No."

"No?"

"No, I'll take you like this, I like it better."

"Like this?"

"Sure, you have never done it like this?"

"No... Never..."

"I like this way the best, with some one I like. So I can look at his
eyes... and kiss him. And I like you, little finch."

"Don't you want me to I take it in my mouth first?"

"I don't need that, it's already hard enough. Another time perhaps it is
possible. If you like doing it, we will do it that way."

Felice took the boy's legs and put them on his shoulders, then wet his
finger with his spit and slipped it between the boy's buns, finding his
hole at once. At that intimate touch, the boy quivered and relaxed.
Felice lingered there with his finger for a long while, massaging the
hole, inside and out, and all around. Gaetano was all a shudder.

"Are you really ready, little finch?"

"Yes..."

"Good," the man said, and took him.

He penetrated him with a long and steady pressure, without strokes, and
the boy opened under it, welcoming it with grateful pleasure. He could
feel it slipping inside him, taking possession of him, and felt filled
by the quivering virility of the man, and he liked it. When Felice was
completely inside, he started to move back and forth with calm and
measured movements, not violent, but skilled, provoking an intense
pleasure inside the boy.

Their eyes didn't leave each other for a single moment and Gaetano felt
that Felice was right, that it was better to do it like that. He
observed the passion in the man's eyes, like in a dream, waves on waves
of emotions, at times intense, at times sweet, strong or tender, and
even a melting sadness in some moments. But for the most part, he read
in them the intense joy with which life manifested itself. Gaetano
lightly brushed the man's nipples, and Felice moaned, and while
continuing to take him, he bent down to kiss him. Their eyes shone of an
inner light for the joy of that deep union. And finally they both
reached the heights of pleasure and abandoned themselves to the orgasm,
both shuddering because of the pleasure.

While they were lying down, for the moment sated, still panting, still
united in a half-embrace, Felice rose on his elbow and said, looking
straight in his eyes, "It is beautiful in this way, all naked, under the
sun, isn't it?"

Gaetano nodded and his eyes became wet, and two large teardrops rolled
down his cheeks.

"What's up? Are you crying now? What happened?"

"Nothing." the boy answered in a whisper.

"It is nothing? And then why these tears?"

"I... once we were naked, bathing in the river, Maso said to me he
wanted to do it under the sun..."

"And... did you?"

"Yes. But I can't do it with him any more."

Felice embraced him, holding him tight against his naked chest and
cuddled him, without saying a word. When he felt that the boy had
recovered a little, he said, "Let's get dressed now. Or else, who could
stand my mates' comments and jokes!"

While they were putting on their clothes, Gaetano told Felice about
Gerzo and Martino.

Felice smiled, "Good, you put Gerzo in his place. But you don't have to
fear Martino, he would never touch you. Nobody will. They know that you
are my boy now." Gaetano nodded, and then seized Felice's hand,
squeezing it between his own hands with affection.

"What's up?" the man asked him.

"It is nothing. Let's go," the boy answered with a smile, and they went
back to the camp, serene, in spite of the pain that hadn't left their
hearts.

During the day, they stayed with the others, but at night, they withdrew
to have their intimacy. They didn't make love every night, but quite
often anyway. And it was not rare that it was Gaetano who started it --
he liked being taken by Felice, and they always slept embracing each
other.

"The Passerby" and the other men came back with the news that the Pope
sent his soldiers to find him up the Tevere River. Therefore they had to
move away at once. He told Felice that he could take his boy with him.
They took all their weapons, ammunitions and provisions from the
hideout, and started their way.

Gaetano was treated like a member of the band. And nobody ever tried to
put his hands on the boy, or asked him to have sex with them -- it was
clear to all of them that he was Felice's boy.

One evening one of the bandits said, to everybody and to nobody, "But it
is not fair that Felice can have his company every night, and we
cannot."

At that, "the Passerby" answered with a sneer, "Nobody is stopping you
from having your own boy."

"Yeah, and then who would be able to stand my sweet Giuseppa? That one
would geld me, if I just tried." Everybody laughed.

They had been marching for several days, always avoiding the towns, but
often sending some men in a scouting party to gather news. Gaetano
didn't dislike at all the life among woods and forests, among those
strong and determined men. They followed a self-imposed iron discipline.
Felice found more suitable clothes for Gaetano for that kind of life,
including a cloak, and at this point it was not possible to distinguish
the boy from the rest of the band, but only for his young age. The next
youngest one was eight years older than him.

Now that the band was complete, Gaetano had a lot of work to do as a
cook, while their women moved on safe roads from village to village. But
at night, he was always at Felice's side. When they were alone, wrapped
in both of their cloaks, they talked for long periods of time, in a very
low voice. Mostly, Felice liked to tell him about himself, his life,
both when he was a kid and then later with "the Passerby". Felice had a
great deal of admiration for his chief.

"Do you know why he is known as the 'Courteous Passerby'?"

"No, why?"

"Because he never acts cruelly towards anybody, and in particular with
women, he is more of a cavalier than a cavalier. And with me, in jail,
he had been a father, a brother, a friend."

"Were you... were his boy?"

"Are you kidding? He is not interested in boys. Moreover, my heart was
full of my Riccardo. I still hoped he was alive and waiting for me."

"But did he know about you and Riccardo?"

"Sure. I told him everything. It's he who silenced those who joked or
even mocked me, when I joined the band. And he said to all the men that
they should not try with me, because I was one of them, you see?"

Their march lasted several days. During these days, the bandits also
made two assaults, earning a good booty. During the first assault,
besides the booty, they also took prisoner a boy. His name was Bruno. He
was twenty years old, the son of a miller. They had to hold him fast
while the men without their women, and also some of the others, fucked
him. At first, Gaetano felt pity for him, hearing him scream.

"Why are they forcing him, raping him?" he asked to Felice.

"Because the men haven't had a woman for too long, and they need to give
vent to their urges. We are bandits, aren't we? We take what we need. I
also did it, at times."

"Did you do it with this boy too?"

"No, did not do it with him. I have you now."

"But I pity him..."

"He only had to say yes, as so many other boys normally do. Also the son
of Marquis Pallavicino, while waiting for his ransom to arrive went with
any man that asked him, without raising any fuss. He just understood it
was better that way. When the ransom arrived, Martino, who accompanied
him down to the valley, at one point stopped and asked the boy to do it
one last time, and the boy said yes at once, even if at that point he
could have said no."

"Well, possibly that boy liked it. But Bruno doesn't."

"No, he never did it before, and even if he was only nineteen years old,
he was already married. First, he understood it was better to accept
everything, and that nobody would die from one fuck... or a hundred
fucks, really. And then, with Martino... he could have just thought that
one more time didn't make any difference..."

"Anyway, I wouldn't like to be in Bruno's shoes."

"And you are not," Felice said, caressing his cheek.

After they put his breeches on the prisoner and tied him up again,
Gaetano went near him and convinced him to eat something.

"It would be better if you don't make such a fuss. Why don't you just
chose one of them and tell him you want to be his boy? At least... it
will be just one of the men to take you."

The prisoner stared at him with a grim look, then said with an angry
voice, "I, in the ass... I only put mine in my father's mill boys.
Nobody ever did it to me before. I am a male!"

"You did it to the mill boys? Did you force them?"

"No. Either they let me fuck them, or I'd convince my father to sack
them."

"Well, then, if you fucked those boys before, against their will, it is
now your turn."

"But I was the master! I had all the right to screw those boys' asses
when I was turned on!"

"Yes, I understand, but now the masters are them, you can put it in this
way. Now they have the right."

"I'll make them pay for that."

"I don't think it would be so simple."

"From whom do you take it in your ass, tell me!" the big boy asked with
a sneer.

Gaetano smiled, "From somebody who is worth ten times more than you," he
answered and left him, and decided it was not worth worrying for that
one.

Another attack earned them more precious and valuable booty, even though
it cost them the loss of Gerzo, who was killed by a pistol shot.

During the two assaults Felice gave order to Gaetano to remain at the
camp and the boy waited for his return with his heart in his mouth.
Seeing him come back safe and sound both times, he felt really, greatly
relieved.

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CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 6

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In my home page I've put some more of my stories. If someone wants to
read them, the URL is
http://andrejkoymasky.com
If you want to send me feed-back, or desire to help revising my English
translations, so that I can put on-line more of my  stories in English
please e-mail at
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