By Chris Z.
The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or
publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it has
been posted, without the consent of the author.
This story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to person's
or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental.
Moreover, none of the actions of the characters in this story is meant to
condone, approve, or sanction their behavior.
All comments are welcome and if you wish to contact me, please feel
free to email me at firstname.lastname@example.org
I would like to give thanks, to all the fans that have expressed
their opinions and whose words, have provided inspiration and encouragement.
"You can't let praise or criticism get to you. It's a weakness to get caught up in either one."
-- John Wooden --
On the drive over, my father was quiet and said very little in the form of conversation. He would give the occasional nod or grumble something, and this was the time when I knew better than to bother him. I felt that something was on his mind and it was obvious that it had to do with the man, with whom he had just had a brief but intense altercation. Fabrizio, on the other hand was being his cheerful, lively and sweet-self. I think he sensed that, whatever was bothering my father, had in turn been spilled onto me.
In order to get my mind in other matters and dismiss the brief episode that had occurred earlier, Fabrizio then started a conversation with me. This was one of those occasions when I got to see another side of him, where he was more than my father's friend, where he was part of the family. He would listen to your problems and did his best at trying to help you overcome any dilemma.
"So Dante, your father was telling me that he was going to teach you to swim."
"Are you, excited about getting into the pool again?." and he had one hand on the steering wheel and with the other one, he playfully messed up my hair.
"Yeah, I guess... so.", I said to him and turned my head around and looked at my father, who was staring out of the window and then gave me a playful smile and winked.
"Well, you don't sound too happy about going to the pool, why is that?", he was really trying to get to the root of the problem.
"Are you afraid of the water?.", he asked.
When I avoided the question and didn't answer him, he then threw a look in the rear view mirror, and I'm sure he was looking at my father.
"You know, when I about your age, I wasn't lucky enough to get swimming lessons. My brothers were the ones that taught me to swim.", I looked at him with deep curiosity and stared at those beautiful green eyes.
"I remember that we would walk to this little lake in the outskirts of our village, and I thought we were just going fishing. When we got there, they saw this small little row boat and then decided to borrow it, although .....it was more like stealing." He gave a wide smile and chuckled.
"Well, I didn't make anything of it, so we got in and started to row to the deepest part of the lake. Once we got there, they started to undress and put their fishing rods aside and jumped in the lake. At first, I didn't mind because I thought they just wanted to swim for a bit, but when they didn't resurface, I panicked.", He kept gazing in the rear view mirror, I guess to see if my father was paying attention to the story.
" I was looking all over the place and was calling out their names, but I couldn't see them anywhere. I wasn't afraid of the water so much, but I was terrified of leeches.", He then shook his body, in a way that made me laugh and from the back of the car I also heard my father give a small chuckle.
"I hate those ugly, slimey things." he shook his head and continued.
"See, once my eldest brother came home from swimming in the lake, and had 4 leeches attached to his legs. I was so scared and believed that if I went swimming in the lake, that these horrible creatures would attach all over me and suck my blood.", he looked at me and made a loud sucking sound and that made me laugh very hard and we also heard my father give a snicker in the background.
"So what happened to your brothers?.", I looked at him.
"Well, they were good swimmers and were holding their breath underneath the boat. So when I couldn't see them, I jumped in and started to look around and then they resurfaced and told me that this was one way to overcome my fears." He shook his head and rolled his eyes.
"In some way, they were right. It felt great to be in the water, I was paddling and even forgot that I couldn't swim and the fear of the leeches ........well, wasn't that bad anymore."
"And as the weeks when on, there wasn't a day that I was not at the lake.", He had a wide smile while he was telling his story, so it must have been pleasant memories.
"Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. As for the leeches......well, we'll leave that story for another day."
"OH, please tell it, c'on..... !", I asked him.
"Can't you stay over for dinner, Fabrizio?. You can tell the story at the dinner table." I pleaded to him
Fabrizio, gave a hard laugh and said," Little Dante, that's not a story I can tell at the dinner table, trust me!" and winked
"Well Gentlemen, your driver has arrived at it's destination!. Thank-you for flying Castelli Airlines!" and I realized that we had arrived at our driveway already.
"You sure you can't stay?. You know they will be expecting you for dinner." My father spoke from the back seat.
"No, sorry Tony. I have other plans.", he said
Fabrizio, then helped me with my seatbelt and rustled my hair and said, "Take care, little Dante."
As I was getting out of the car, I waved to Fabrizio and started to make my way to the front door. My father then took his gym bag out of the back seat, closed the door and then waved to Fabrizio and said "Ciao."
I saw my father walk to the garage, with gym bag in hand, lifted the door and walked in. This is where the family car was kept, well not exactly the family car. My father owned a 1980 Red Fiat Spider, this was my father's car and his other baby. The Fiat spider is arguably Italy's most successful sportscar ever made .
This was one of the main reasons, I was not allowed to go into the garage and from the long stories he told, the man had spent years saving to buy the sports car. As for the car that was used mostly by my mother and on occasions father was the Fiat Panda, which was a pretty ugly car but got us from point A to point B. The other reason, why I wasn't allowed to go into the garage, was because of all the dangerous gardening tools, paints, etc, that were kept in there. Penalty of being caught in the garage was a long lecture, that would be given by my mother, grand-mother and eventually father and that was just as bad as getting spanked.
As I went into the house and made my way into the kitchen, I found my mother heating up the food. She looked at me and said....
"Dante, it's about time you guys made it home. Where is your father and Fabrizio.?"
"Dad, is in the garage and Fabrizio couldn't stay for dinner." I told her.
"Oh? and I made their favorite, Chicken Scarpariello.", she shook her head and took the food into the dining room.
Ahh,......the scandilizing aroma of the lemon-garlic scent of this dish as it is carried across the dining room never failed to make me hungry. By then my father, had made his way into the kitchen and was standing by the sink and also smelling the great aroma.
"Fabrizio, couldn't stay?.", she asked him.
"Nope, he said that he had something to do. That smells wonderful, I'm starving!."
"What was so important, that he couldn't stay for a few bites?, she asked again
"I don't know and I didn't ask him.", he said
Then we all made our way to the table and sat down. My mother then told me to say grace and as we were about to devour our meal, she asked if we had washed our hands. My father looked at me and vice versa, and there was no point in arguing, so we got up and went to wash at the kitchen sink. My father then pulled a chair for me to reach the sink and turned on the faucet, he grabbed the soap and lathered his hands and then mine, he playfullly splashed water on me and I did the same. We then heard my mother yell out.
"Are you two taking another shower in there?, the food is getting cold!", she was beginning to get that upset tone in her voice. My father then rolled his bright nice hazel eyes and said,
"Let's go before we get into more trouble.", he then grabbed a towel, dried my hands, then his and carried me to the table.
After the banquet, my mother started to talk to my father about the game and I heard my grand-mother say,
"Dante, it's time for you to go over your school lessons." and looked my way.
I asked if I could stay up a little while longer but my mother interrupted,
"No, Dante. I want you to go over your reading lessons." and continued talking to my father.
I grumbled and gave an icy stare at my grand-mother and made my way past the stairs. As I was going up the stairs, I looked at the window and saw dark clouds aproaching the bay and in the distance I heard the faintest sound of thunder.
"Now that he's gone up, I wanted to talk to you about his birthday that is coming up. I was thinking of throwing him a surprise birthday party at school and wanted to get some clowns and balloons."
"He hates clowns.", my father said and made a face.
"YOU hate clowns, Dante loves them. Besides, the kids at school will love it"
"You'll have to speak to Father Sposito and arrange it with him.", he said
"As for his birthday present, I think it's a wonderful idea to get him a bicycle. His been asking for one for months." she said
"I think, I'll get him the Carrera or the De Rosa brand, no better yet, I think I'll go with the Pinarello. The frame of the bike is made of magnesium, which is good because of the combination of lightness and durability crushes......", my mother then grabbed his arm and said,
"Antonio, his going to be 8 years old. His not running for the Gold Cup, in the Milan-San Remo Race.", and rolled her eyes.
"I want you to pick a safe, durable bike and with a helmet and pads. Please!, don't make this too complicated." and got up and went to the kitchen.
As I was sitting on my desk and reading my comic book, I got an urge and burning sensation of going to the garage and looking for my father's gym bag. I just couldn't concentrate for a single second, the exciment of finding the bag and going-over his clothes and pressing my face and smelling his jock, it was seriously driving me mad. So, I went to my bed and took a small battery-powered lamp that I kept under my pillow, strictly for emergency purposes(storms, occasional black-out and monsters that lurked in the shadows), and sneaked out of my room and into the hallway.
I went to see if my grandmother was watching her soap opera in her bedroom and as I carefully approached her door, I could hear the tv. Every evening at seven, she was not to be disturbed because she went into a trance watching her favorite soaps. I had to move fast, before anyone came to check up on me. So I stood by the railing and heard my mother doing the dishes in the kitchen, my father was most likely watching the news or sports. I carefully went down the stairs and would have to pass the living room and out the front door, so I had to be extra sneaky and quiet. My father was sitting on his favorite chair watching the tv and had the volume pretty high, so I grabbed the garage key from the key rack and slipped out.
Once I stepped outside the door, I could feel the air, which was quite dry and crisp, a clear sign that a storm was brewing. When I got to the garage, my heart was thumping and I had to muster all the strenght to lift the garage door, without looking suspicious or being too loud. Once I was in, I turned my little lamp on and had to do my best to look for the bag, it was so dark in the garage, with the exception of some light coming in from the street lamp. I was a kid possesed and felt like a bloudhound on the hunt, very much determined in finding the gym bag and the treasure it contained. I went around the car, touching and feeling my way and then when I got to the front of the garage, I hit my leg on something.
It was quite big and kinda looked like an old crate, with an adrenelin rush and full of curiosity, I wondered what was in it and opened it. Once, I had managed to lift the top there was a familiar smell inside, the kinda smell that had filled my nostril when I was in the player's change room. Moving things in the dark, I found two boxing gloves, newspaper articles, some boxing gear and alot of trophies. When I checked the name they all read "Antonio A. Martinello", then it hit me, these crate belonged to my father and these were his tropies, then all of the sudden the garage door was opened, a light switch was turned on and a gust of wind came into the garage.
"Dante?......is that you?.", I heard my father's voice
Then, in the commotion, I dropped everything into the crate and the top of the trunk slipped and gaught my fingers. It was so painful, that I yelled out.
"Merda!"(Shit!) and looked at the garage door and there stood my father, with a puzzled look on his face.
"Dante, what on earth are you doing here at this time of the night?.", and started walking towards me.
Now........I had basically broken like a million rules. First on the list was, swearing, then getting caught in the garage, sneaking out of the house, not studying, etc, etc, etc. So, I could either plead insanity, lie, cry, lie or basically just the the honourable manly thing and lie my way out of this horrendous situation.
My father walked up to me, kneeled and said, "Your fingers, are they o.k?." and took my bruised hand.
I nodded and said, "Yeah, hurts just a little", I wanted to be tough and say as less as possible.
"Dante, what is it that you were looking for?.", he was rubbing my hand and staring right at my eyes, when he said that.
"Um......I,...", I had to think fast and like a bolt of lighting, it hit me!. My birthday was coming up, so I could say that I was looking for my present!....Yeah, that could work.!
"I was looking for my birthday present. I thought that Mom, might have hidden it in here, well......since I'm not allowed to come in here." and gave him the saddest, heart warming and puppy dog face, that I could manage.
"And yet, here you are." and he had no facial expression whatsoever. So much for my award winning performance.
"Yeah, sorry Sir." and just lowered my gaze to the floor.
"Well, c'on before your mother and grand-mother, notice that you're gone", and we started to make our way out.
I kept telling myself that I had been so close, but in the end had been caught and I was in for some serious punishment. As we were going into the house, I would occasionally look up to my father, who......mmmm....I don't know was probably trying to figure out my story. Although, it seems to me that it was a pretty good one at that.
As soon as we walked to the door, my mother was going up the stairs and when she saw me, said.
"Dante, I thought you were in your room?." and looked at my father with confusion and then said,
"What were you doing outside?, you were supposed to be going over your lessons." and was giving me one of those looks that I get when I don't want to do my homework or forget to do my chores.
As I was about to answer her, my father spoke out.
"He was with me. We were looking at the storm clouds and fireflies that are outside.", then he motioned to her and said,
"C'on, love! Come and see them." and took a step forward and pulled her to the door.
They went hand in hand, and I stared at them and saw that they held each other, with greatest affection. My father was kissing her on the cheek and whispering things to her, that I couldn't quite make out. They looked very much in love and it brought a warm feeling in me, so I joined them in the front lawn. We were there for a few minutes, then the thunder was beginning to get louder and the wind picked up.
My mother then said it was time for me to be getting to bed and brush my teeth. As my father, had his huge arms around the waist of my mother, he looked at me and winked. This was my queue to leave and make my way to my room, I walked towards them and gave each one a kiss on the cheek and as I was leaving, my father gave me a small pat on my butt and said.
"I'll be seeing you in a bit, Sport." and continued talking and laughing with my mother.
I knew, that it wasn't going to be this easy to get out of my punishment. Even if he had covered for me, for some unknown reason that I was still buffled by. So, I walked to the house and as I was going up the stairs, my fingers were killing me, I was going into my room and could hear that my grandmother was still busy with her soaps or had fallen asleep watching them. So I went to my room and went to look at the window and could still see my father and mother watching the sky, so I started to undress and put my pyjamas.
As I was going to the washroom to brush my teeth, I heard the front door close and both of my parents talking downstairs. I brushed my teeth and put my fingers under the cold water and they didn't look that bad, a little bruised but no big deal. As I was heading back, I was surprised to see my father sitting on the bed and he had a towel in his hands.
"I brought you some ice for your hand. How is it?, let me see." and motioned me to go over to him.
He sat on the bed and put the cold towel on my hand and while looking at my hand said,
"I didn't say anything to your mother, about you being in the garage", he then looked at me
"Your birthday is coming up and there's no point in getting punished so close to your birthday and you know how strict your mother is." and gave me a stern look.
I could only nod and pray for the best in this situation.
"As for swearing, Dante. You're too young to be saying those words and I want you to be careful and think, before anything comes out of your mouth. Is that clearly understood?" he looked very serious, when he said this.
I cleared my throat and very clearly said, "Yes, Sir." and looked down at the carpet.
Then with his big hand, he lifted my face and said.
"Is the ice helping your hand?." and his face had changed to a warm and caring look.
"Yeah, it feels alot better, and thanks Dad." and smiled at him.
He then told me to get in bed and he tucked me in. He went to the window and asked me if I wanted the curtains opened or closed. I told him that I preferred them opened, then he walked over to the bed and gave me a small kiss on the forehead, as he turned off the light and walked out into the hallway, I asked him.
"Dad, what were those trophies in the crate for?", and I looked at him.
He then turned around very slowly and said,
"I'll tell you another time. Go to sleep", and closed the door.
He didn't sound quite so lively and I wondered what that mystery was about. I fell asleep quite fast and when I woke up it was because of the loud thunder that awoke me from my sleep. The rain was falling heavily on the window pane and the gusts of wind were rustling the branches of the trees in our yard, I jumped when I heard how ferocious the thunder was and I was scared of the bolts of lighting that threw colours in my room. I then heard my door open and saw a figure stand by the door, my heart froze and I wanted my flashlight on my hands, but I remembered that I dropped it inside the crate in the garage.
I then heard a familiar voice, amidst the heavy rain and thunder,
"Dante?, Son.... are you allright?.", it was my father checking up on me and I was glad that he had.
"Yeah, I'm o.k.", but I didn't sound so confident and on the other hand I didn't want to sound like a baby to him, either.
"Do you want me to stay with you for a little while?.", he asked.
"A little while,........please.", I said
He then he walked over to the window and closed the curtains a little bit and then came to my bed.
"Move over, let's see if we can squeeze together", he smiled and said.
As my father climbed into the bed, I could feel the warmth of his body and realized that he was shirtless and only wearing his favorite, worn out soccer shorts. My mother had tried in vain many times to get rid of the shorts, even as far as to leave them in bleach to desintegrate, but my father still wore them. With the room getting humid, his body felt warm and I could smell a faint trace of cologne and his breath was minty and fresh. He layed back, put his left arm under his head and used it as a pillow, I then rested my head on his elbow and felt his strong muscles, which were hard as granite. I turned to face him, and even though the room was quite dark, I would get a glimpse of his attractive face when an occasional bolt of lighting would light up the room. I was in deep fascination, while looking at this athletic and handsome man, that was lying down on my bed.
I snuggled my way under his armpit and could smell a nice and soft scent of deodorant. I turned to face him and placed my hand on his hairy muscular chest and felt the pulse of his body. He then yawned and looked very tired and I don't blame him, after all he had played a very rigorous soccer game just a few hours ago.
The storm was getting stronger and showed no signs of calming down. The gusts of wind were quite loud and somewhere in the street, garbage cans were being thrown all over the street and the dogs in the neighbourhood were barking. I placed my head on his chest and looked at him and asked.
"Dad, what is a thunderstorm?.", he had his eyes closed and then barely opened them,
"Dante, we should be going to sleep, I'm very tired." and yawned
"Please, tell me!.", I begged......and that usually helps.
"Well, Dante. A key ingredient is lighting and since lightning
creates thunder, a storm with lightning is called a thunderstorm.
Lightning always comes before thunder, because lightning causes it.", he continued to yawn and went on.
"See, when a streak of lighting flashes across the sky, you hear a crack of thunder, and this is heard several seconds later." He then cleared his throat,
" You know that bolt of lighting that you see for a split second? Well, that bolt is so hot that it creates shockwaves and these become the noise that travels through the air and then hear. Thunder happens because lightning heats the air, causing the air to expand and as this air cools, it begins to contract, then we hear the thunder. And this is how thunder is produced."
We both listened quietly, while we heard a blast of thunder in the background. I then asked him,
"Dad, can people die, if they get hit by lighting?.", and I watched for lighting to light up his face.
"Well, Sport. The chances of being struck by lighting are 1 in 700,000, and they do kill a number of people a year. Just remember, thunder travels about a mile in five seconds so lighting closer than three miles is a warning to take shelter immediately." and then pointed to the window.
"If you see thunderstorms, keep an eye out for clouds building into thunderstorms and head for shelter at the first crack of thunder or lighting flash. The best shelter from lighting is a building, even a car with metal rooof is safe, but don't touch any metal surfaces. It's also best to stay away from windows when lighting is close and I've read about people been killed while they were talking on the phone, taking a bath or near something electrical." He then grabbed my nose and said,
"Now, Dante. It's time to go to sleep.", and grabbed me by the waist and kissed my forehead.
I fell asleep while clinging onto him and I placed my leg over his hard stomach. We, then both went off into a deep slumber and it was almost euphoric with the sound or rain and thunder in the distant background. It was quite late when I woke up and I was covered in perspiration and quite thirsty, my father on the other hand was very much sound asleep. I got up and carefully got out of bed, I then opened my door and walked into the hallway and went to the bathroom. I turned on the tap and drank a small glass of water and made my way back. Once in my room again, I carefully closed the door behind me and could see a faint streak of light, coming into my room and hitting the bed, I then walked over to the bed and was able to see my father's magnificent body.
He looked so peaceful, as if he was in a heavy dream. Being such a tall man, he looked like a giant in my little bed and it reminded me about a children's story, that he told me once and I think it was called "The Three Bears". His body looked perfect, tough and well built, with a trail of hair that covered his chest and worked it's way south towards his belly and dissapeared underneath the shorts. Plainly put, he looked so damm masculine and even in the dark, you could see the prominent mound that was visible in his shorts and I could trace his fat, thick and impressive cock and also outline where the two oversized hairy balls, rested on his leg.
My desire and yearning to touch my father was driving me delirious, I felt that my body was getting warmer and sweat droplets were forming in my forehead. I inched my way closer and when I stood right next to him, I could see small signs of perspiration on his chest and stomach. I extended my hand and very carefully and quietly touched his chest and moved my finger over the mass of hair and it felt soft to the touch and felt my heart was racing , as if it was going to jump out and land on the bed. I then pulled my finger back and felt my father's sweat on it and in some involuntary act, I placed it in my mouth and tasted it.
To be continued!