By Chris Z.
email: zaldanachris@hotmail.com

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 living
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 zaldanachris@hotmail.com

I would like to give thanks, to all the fans that have expressed their opinions and whose words, have provided inspiration and encouragement.

"It wasn't the reward that mattered or the recognition you might harvest.  It was your depth of commitment, your quality of service, the product of your devotion -- these were the things that counted in a life.  When you gave purely, the honor came in the giving, and that was honor enough. "

--Scott O'Grady, U.S. Air Force Officer and Aviator --
 

As I helped my grandmother and took the gifts into the house, I couldn't help but feel that Fabrizio was trying to read my thoughts.  He just stood there, kept silent and with thoughts, twirling around in his head, watched us both, like a hawk.  I had made the mistake to mention the "gloves" in his presence and  it was too late, when I had realized that what my father had whispered in my ear, had been meant to be kept just between the two of us.

My grandmother went to the kitchen to prepare her masterpiece and Fabrizio, volunteered to help out with the meal.  She, suggested that we should have dinner in the patio, with candles and wine, since this was such a special day.  Without being told what to do, I took an old cloth and went outside to clean the table and the chairs.  As I was scrubbing the chairs, my father appeared and quietly said.

"Listen Sport.  You shouldn't say anything, about the boxing gloves that I gave you.  You see, your mother and grandmother are definitely, going to kill me if they ever find out, that I'm teaching you, how to box.", he looked quite serious and almost sad, as he said it.

My father, kept glancing over his shoulder and I followed his eyes, we saw that Fabrizio was having an intense conversation with my grandmother about french cuisine.  Fabrizio, was talking to her in perfect and flawless french, he actually spoke four languages, his native Italian, followed by german, french and english.  My father, had brought another cloth and was pretending to scrub the table, while we talked.  We both waved and smiled, as Fabrizio, while talking to my grandmother, stared at the both of us and you could tell that by his watchful gaze, he was studying us.

My father, then told me that he was going to go and pick up my mother at the hospital, he then patted me on the butt, went inside and said.

"Allright, Head Chef and assistant cook, I'm going to go and pick up Adrienne at the hospital.", he gave a very low bow, grabbed his coat, car keys and left.

By the wonderful aromas, that were coming from the kitchen, I knew that this was going to be some culinary dish.  My grandmother was creating a dish, known as Anatra all' Arancia (Orange-flavoured-Duck).  It's not all the time that we eat duck and this particular way in which my grandmother makes it, it's just plain mouthwatering.

Many people think, that this is a recipe from France.  It's not true, Catherine de' Medici, born in Florence in 1519, was a woman of the Renaissance, a disciple of Machiavelli and bride of Henry II de Valois.  Mother of three French kings, Francis II, Henry III and Charles IX, she introduced this haute cuisine Italian dish, into the court of France and among many of her recipes, this was one of her favourites.

I was getting more famished, by the second.  The aroma of olive oil, in combination with the white wine, butter, onion, tomatoes, chopped garlic and grated lemon, filled my nostrils with such a force that made my head swirl and mouth water.
I went inside and sat on a the kitchen stool and watched as Fabrizio, prepared a salad, while my grandmother, poured lemon juice and herbs over the duck and in another pot, was preparing the rice.

In a few minutes my parents walked in, and I ran to give my mom a big hug.

"Here's my birthday boy!.  Sweetheart, did you like the clowns?.......what about the cake?, did the kids like the gift bags?, did grandma, take lots of photos?.", she was just as excited as I was.

My father, made a face, when my mother mentioned the clowns and said.

"Hmmph........clowns.  I don't find them at all funny.", and he kinda mumbled something barely audible, like"they're creepy!."

I then looked at my father, laughed at the face he made, grabbed my mom by the hand, and showed her the cool gifts that I got.  Well at least.......some of the cool gifts.

"The clowns were hilarious, they did all sort of tricks, like balloon animals, juggling, they told stories and everyone loved the cake, it was delicious and they really loved the loot bags.", and gave her another hug.

My mother, then went over the gifts, carefully inspected them and very casually asked me, who had given what.  I think, that she did this, to see how much the parents had spent on my birthday gift.  My father, just stood by Fabrizio and watched her
in silence, he then took a sniff in the air and said.

"Mmmm, that smells wonderful.", he headed for the kitchen and gave Fabrizio, a pat on the back and said.

"So what have the chefs prepared?.", and he was poking around in the kitchen.

My mother, then walked to the kitchen and said.

"Maman, est-ce que ce canard, que vous cuisiner?. Quelle arôme, c'est  merveilleuse!"(Mom, is that duck, that you're cooking?.  The aroma, it smells wonderful!.)

I then walked to my father and asked him.

"Dad, when can I open the rest of the presents?", and tugged at his shirt sleeve.

"I don't see, why you can't do that now.  But before you do that, do you mind going outside and getting  my keys, please.  I think, that I left them in the car.", he said and smiled.

I sighed and mumbled..........."Yeah, fine", and dragged myself to the door.

As I stepped out the door, at first,... I was speechless and then yelled.

"WOW!,.........Mom, Dad!", I couldn't believe my eyes, this was just too awesome for words.  There on the front lawn,  wrapped in a gold ribbon and balloons, stood the most radical bike, that I had ever seen.

It was a Pinarello Bike.  I knew that by heart, I had circled the same bike, months ago, from a bike catalogue.  The bike, was metallic blue in colour and hanging from the handle bar, there was a blue Ghisallo helmet and a three-piece pad set protector, for the knees, elbows and hands, also set in the same metallic blue colour.  I tried on the the helmet, and it felt light, comfortable and padded, a perfect marriage of art and science and quite the beauty to behold.

With all my exciment, I hadn't even realized that my parents, grandmother and Fabrizio, had now joined me in the front yard.  My mother, was a woman possesed and took photos, from all angles.  I ran to give my parents a hug and then my father carried me on his shoulders, walked over to the bike and he gave a complete detail of the bike.

"So,... I take it you like the bike, Sport?  It's a Pinarello 7000, with aluminum frame and Vela carbon fork, in metallic blue colour.", he sat me on the seat and as he put on my helmet and helped me with the pads, I heard Fabrizio, give an exaggerated sigh and said.

"Oh God, here he goes. Tony, you don't even know what Vela....whatever, means." and winked at my mother and grandmother.

My father payed no attention to them and continued explaining the technicality of the bike.

" Ignore them, Sport.  The bike has a sturdy tensile steel frame and fork feature and has a low stand-over height made right for kids.  It has single-speed, one-piece crank with chainguard and a rear hand brake, that is backed up with a rear coaster brake to help you learn to use hand brakes safely.  The alloy rims will not rust, even if you leave the bike out in the rain, the knobby tires provide great traction in the dirt and includes a set of heavy-duty training wheels to get you started."

My mother, came over to the bike, took a very close inspection of the bike and said.

"Tony, you picked a great bike, I trust you.  Now let's head inside and have dinner.", she gave me a kiss on the cheek and took off, the helmet.  I was so thrilled and excited, that I didn't even feel like eating.

As I carried the helmet and pads, my mother looked at me and said.

"Dante, when you're on the bike, I want you to be in full protection gear.  That means, gloves, pads and helmet, is that crystal clear?", she was very serious, when she said that.

I nodded in agreement and said.

"Yes, in full protection gear and it's crystal clear.", I knew that I had to agree to all of her terms or there would be no bike.

As, my father and Fabrizio, headed to the patio, my mother and grandmother went into the kitchen.  I ran up to my bedroom, got the rest of the presents, rushed downstairs and joined the family in the patio.  I sat on my chair, opened Fabrizio's other gift first, inside there was a Phantom metal lunch box and a white Umbro soccer jersey, with the Italian flag set in an embroidered emblem and in the back, in black, the number 8, as well as my last name, Martinello.

"Wow,.....Fabrizio, these are awesome!.", I gave him a big hug and kissed him on the cheek.  As I got close to him, I could detect a nice and cool fresh scent of cologne.

"You're very much welcome, Dante.  Now, I think that you're collection of The Phantom, is almost complete.  You've got shirts, comic books, backpack, plush animal, action figures, ........phew......that'squite a collection you got going.", and as he smiled, he showed a perfect set of pearly white teeth.

My mother, then mentioned the Armani, olive green suit to Fabrizio and I dreaded what was coming.

"Dante, sweetheart.  Why don't you try on the suit?", and she looked at me with eagerness in her eyes.  My father, once again, came to my rescue and said.

" He can try the suit later.  I'm starving now,... mangiamo! "(let's eat!), and dove into the banquet.

We had Italian Prosecco wine, that goes perfectly with the Orange-flavoured-Duck. The succulent, mouthwatering dish, was a topic of conversation, as was my day at school and how everyone had enjoyed the entertainment.  This was one birthday, that I was to remember forever.

Even though the duck, was simply superb, my grandmother told us to leave room for dessert.  She got up and went into the kitchen and brough out, a Chocolate Truffle Tart.  The tart, had eight candles on the top and this elegant treasure was created with cocoa, grinded walnuts, powdered sugar, fresh raspberries, butter, chocolate morsels, raspberry jam and whipping cream.  This was definitely a luscious, rich dessert and to savour the taste, we had a PouillyFuissé, wine, from France.  This Chardonnay, is a brilliant pale straw yellow with elegant aromas of flowers and white peaches and an underlying taste of mint.  The wine is light in structure, well balanced, that leaves your palate with a lingering floral finish.

It was certainly a great day, and the happiness and mood of everyone, made the evening feel even more special.  Fireflies, were dancing, all over the backyard and the cool night air, engulfed us, with the fragrant perfume of my mother's prize winning roses.  I walked over to my father and sat on his lap, I rested my head on his rock hard chest and while they were discussing the upcoming, "San Remo Flower Festival", I began to doze off.

I looked up, into the night's sky and the fullmoon was shinning a radiant soft light in the clouds.  I felt, my father's heart beat
and felt closer to him, safe, comfortable, his body's warmth, was a soothing lullaby that is beyond words.

Just as I was getting comfortable, I barely heard my father say in a whisper.

"The little cub, has fallen asleep.  I'll take him upstairs and put him to bed.", he carefully got up and carried me to my room.

When we got to my room, my father sat me on the bed and started to undress me.  I was groggy and felt so tired, that I didn't put any resistance in going to bed.  He took off my shoes, uniform and left me in my underwear, he then went to the washroom and came back with a warm, wet towel and as he was about to scrub off, the face painting, I pulled away and said.

"Dad......leave it on, please!.", I pleaded.

My father laughed, looked at me with curiosity and said.

"You want to sleep like that?", he then caressed my left cheek and smiled.

I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer, I yawned and said.

"Yeah....I'm a Tiger!",  and I fell back on my pillow.

My father, then laughed, leaned over, gave me a kiss on my forehead and said.

"I'm glad that you've enjoyed this day.  Pleasant dreams,tiger", he then turned off the light and walked out the door.

Over the next couple of days, the surprise birthday party at school, was the only thing the kids in my classroom talked about.  They had loved the toys in the gift bags, the clowns, the cake and they thought that my parents were the coolest ever, even Sister Daniela Filomena, told me that she had never tasted such a delicious cake and that she was very glad that I had had a great time, and that I should give thanks for having such great parents.

Every evening and right after dinner, my father and I would go on our bikes, for a ride around the neighborhood.  We rode, around the beautiful neighborhood, of Via Bocca Di Leone.  This is an expensive suburb, of San Remo, that has beautiful homes, well kept and manicured gardens and lawns, tree-lined streets, composed of giant oaks, sycamores and gorgeous flowers everywhere.

This upscale community, was built in the late 60's and early 70's.  My parents, had searched high and low for the best neighborhood to raise their family and were among the first to purchase one of these exquisite, hillside homes that overlooked the ocean.  The 5 bedroom home, was roughly, 3100 sq. ft., with a beautiful brick/ceramic entrance, 2 hand made, Murano Venetian chandeliers, plush designer carpeting, designer flooring throughout the home and a huge living room with heavy white beamed vaulted ceiling and a spacious formal dining room, overlooking the rose/flower garden.

The kitchen was perfect for our family, especially, since my parents, love to cook.  It had a huge gourmet kitchen, completely with center broiler & griddle, spacious pantry space, marble countertops, custom pull-out deep drawers, oak cabinetry and huge side windows, that allows view of the entire back yard.

The master bedroom suite, has a white heavy beamed ceiling, big walk-in closet(which my mother, adored) due to the part,
that she has an immense clothing collection and about a million shoes. My father's favorite, the master bathroom, is a brilliant white, with matching white cabinetry, a large and beautiful marble bathtub, double sinks and a laundry chute that goes to the laundry room.  My father, prefers to take long showers, so he has a separate private room with a crystal clear shower stall, completed entirely with designer white ceramic tile.

My grandmother and I share a bathroom that is located in the hallway, between her room and mine.  The other two rooms, one is the guest room and the other one used to be the nursery, but because of obvious reasons, my father, quickly converted it
into a sowing room for my mother and grandmother.

As we made our way, through the neigborhood, both men and women, would stop and say "hello" or have a short conversation with my father.  This was a very tight-knit community and people were quite friendly, with each other.  These were the times, when I noticed just how popular and favoured, my father really was.

It was particularly funny, how the women behaved around him, even the older and bored housewives, acted all giddy and flustered, when they were in his presence.  The women would flirt, tease or act very coquettish and would nearly "eat"
him up.  Now that I look back, I think that my father, was oozing with testosterone charm and when he would introduce
me as "his son", they would hunger for him, even more.  Women, in plural.....whether married, divorced or widowed, showed very clearly in their speech, eye contact and body language, that they thirsted for my father.

My father, had probably learned long ago that people went weak-kneed when they were around him.  If this was true, it could be that pheromones had to be involved, although animals have long been known to secrete pheromones, the typical function is to attract sex, and it has only been speculated in humans.

Whatever my father did to get this kind of attention, it didn't just affect women, men were also drawn into his charms.
Men, were also very much, delighted, enraptured and fascinated in anything that he did or say.  Most would first ask him, about his soccer games and/or, how well the team was doing, followed by family life and his job, at the plant.  The last thing that they would mention or bring up as a topic, would be for an "invitation", into their house and making it very clear, that the "wife/ kids" were not home.  He would always, and very politely decline the invitation.

Now, maybe.....just maybe, I am reading more into this but when you get "that feeling" in your gut, you know that something is just "not quite right" and that's what I felt.  I know, that my father is a very handsome man and that he's also charming, honest, strong, intelligent, skillful, athletic and has a wholesome and trustworthy look, that permeates from deep within.  Other men are lenses through which we read our own minds and each man seeks those of different quality from his own
yet, in the end, all these qualities are a source of  power.

I look up to my dad, as a role model and as a source for inspiration, aside from being my father, he is also my best friend,
we share jokes and secrets and there are parts of me, that only he knows and understands.  I personally feel, that only a man can successfully mold another man.  As for the relationship with my father, I can't tell where my love begins or ends.

As saturday rolled around, I woke up around 8:00 a.m, got out of bed and went to brush my teeth.  As I headed to my parents bedroom, I noticed that my father, wasn't in bed or in the bathroom, I thought that it was pretty odd and headed downstairs for breakfast.  I could smell the delicious scent that came from the kitchen, of  the hot and freshly brewed coffee and my mother was having some orange juice and cereal, while reading the morning paper.

"Good morning mom, where's dad?", and went to give her a kiss.

"Morning, sweetheart.  Your father, went for his morning jog, he left about two hours ago.", and got up to pour herself a cup of  coffee.

"Oh and by the way, sweetie.  Your father, mentioned that he was going to take you to the sports center, this afternoon.", and she took a sip of the scandalizing coffee.

At that moment, I felt something stir inside of me.  It was a mix feeling of exciment, enthusiasm and just plain eagerness.  I ate quickly, wolfed down my breakfast and kept glancing at the kitchen clock.  My grandmother, then descended down the stairs and greeted us both.

" Bon matin, mes aimés"(Good morning, my loved ones.), and she gave me a kiss on the cheek.

 "Bon matin, grand-mère"(Good morning, grandma), and gave her a hug.

" Bon matin, maman"(Good morning, mom), my mother, then served her a cup of coffee.

I picked up my cereal bowl and took it to the sink and headed upstairs.  My mother, was shocked that I was done with breakfast and said.

"Dante, for heaven's sake.  Are you only having half a bowl of cereal?", and gave me a surprised look.

"Yeah, I'm not that hungry." and ran up the stairs.  I then heard my mother, yell out from the dining room.

"Dante Alessandro, how many times do I have to tell you,...No Running on the stairs!", she sounded ticked off, but at the moment, I didn't care.

I wanted my father to come home, I kept wondering, as to what time we were going to leave for the sports center.  I ran to the bathroom, brushed my teeth and jumped into the shower, I wanted to be dressed and ready, by the time my father got home,
so that we didn't lose anytime.

When I got out of the shower, I could hear my father talking to my mother downstairs.  I went into my bedroom and decided to wear Fabrizio's birthday gift, the Umbro jersey, with my black soccer shorts and brown leather sandals.  As I was leaving my room, I ran into my father and it felt like I had hit a brick wall.

"Whoa, Sport.  Where's the fire?", he grabbed my shoulders and messed up my hair.

"Dad, you're back!.  Mom said that you're taking me to the sports center, when are we leaving?", and gave him a lively smile.

"Sport, it's only 10:30 a.m and we won't be leaving, until well after lunch", he stroked my left cheek and headed into his bedroom.

"Well, I'm ready!, what should I take?", I looked at him curiously.

We walked together into his bedroom and as he walked over to his dresser, he then took out, a clean white t-shirt, white underwear, white socks and told me to close the bedroom door.

"Sport, please close the door, I'm going to undress.", and with his head, motioned to close the door.  He then, gave me a look over and said.

"Yeah, look at you.  You look very nice.!", he then started to undress, kneeled to my eye level and whispered in my ear.

"Listen, Sport. Go to your room and get the black, sports bag that I got you last summer and don't let your mother or grandmother see you and put the boxing gloves, at the bottom of the bag.", he then motioned me to go and as I was out the door, he said.

"Sport, Shhhh!", and put a finger between his lips and winked at me.

I ran to my room and went to my closet, to look for the black Umbro, sports bag.  I knew, that it was in there somewhere, amid the cluster of toys and clothes.  As I was digging around, I made a mental note, that one of these days, I would have to clean up this mess, before my mother takes a look into the closet.

I had the boxing gloves in one hand and with the other one, I was throwing toys and shirts, left and right.  I knew, that I had seen that bag, in here at somepoint, then out of nowhere, I heard my mother's voice behind me, say.

"Dante, sweetheart.  What are you looking for?", I had my back to her, so I didn't know if she could see the boxing gloves, in my right hand.  I froze, and said.

"Ahh,.... just looking for the Umbro bag, that dad got me last summer.", and shoved the gloves, under the hill of toys.

she walked over to me and as she got near the closet, she sighed and said.

"Oh Dante.  Really, son....look at that closet, no wonder you can't find anything in there.  Here, let me help you out.", she kneeled and started to pick off the toys from the floor.  I then panicked and said.

"Mom.........that's o.k, I'll do it!", I rolled my eyes and with my hands, I motioned her to go away.

She then gave an exaggerated sigh and said.

"Cleanliness is next to godliness, Dante.",she gave me a smile and then got up.

"Yeah.....yeah. You're right, I'll clean this now.", I was in no mood to argue with her and didn't want to hear any of her annoying proverbs.

As she walked towards the door, she said.

"Well, let me know if you need any help.", and walked out the door.

I was just about to give up, looking for the bag, when I remembered to check under the bed.  Sure enough, there it was, covered in toys and dust.  I quickly took the gloves from the closet and dumped them in the bag.  I left the bag by my desk and headed to my parents bedroom, when I got there, my mother was standing outside of the bathroom, talking to my father.

"And please, don't let him out of your sight, Antonio!.", she had her arms crossed and had a very serious look on her face.  I then, heard my father's voice and he said.

"Don't worry, he'll be attached to me, like a siamese twin, love." and he gave an almost audible laughter.  My mother, made a sour face and said.

"That's not funny, Antonio.  I'm being serious, please look after Dante.", and then, she realized that I was standing by the door and smiled at me.  At that moment, my father came out of the shower, with a towel around his waist and gave her a kiss on the lips and said.

"I will look after our son, don't worry.  Now,.... what are we having for lunch, I'm starving!" and gave her a pat on the butt.  My mother, just made a face and said.

"Argh....that's all you men, think about!", and she walked to the door.  My father, sat on the bed, grinned and said.

"That's not all we think about!", and winked at me.  My mother, glared at him and I think she called him idiot, in french and something else, that I quite didn't get.

When she was gone, my father, motioned me to come over to the bed and asked me.

"So, did you put the gloves in the bag?", and he took off his towel.  I nodded to him but my eyes wanted to look at his oversized and thick cock.

He smiled, approvingly and gave me his wet towel and told me to hang it on the towel rail.  He then, stood up and I was able to see, the magnificent and gigantically, fat organ and lemon sized balls, being stuffed into a classic white, low rise brief.  He went to his dresser and put on some Old Spice Lime deodorant, I loved the scent that the deodorant, left in the air and especially on my father.  Aside from being long lasting, it had a refreshing, sexy scent of lime, that mixed very well with his own body scent.  Even though, Old Spice Lime, deodorant  is no longer made, it  brings me back to my youth, when my dad used to wear it.  It had a clean, manly man sort of scent.

My father's preference for cologne, is quite distinct.  He prefers a masculine scent, not too strong, sweet or too flowery.
Three cologne bottles, adorned his dresser, one was the frosted black bottle, with the bold packaging, a masculine, rich ebony with a spatter of red.  My mother, bought him this cologne, and would be his signature fragrance, it was sophisticated and thought-provoking, to the senses. This popular cologne was launched in the `80s, it was Drakkar Noir by Guy Laroche.

Launched in Europe, in 1981, this chypre scent took the name of Viking ships to emphasize masculinity.  It's a blend of brisk, tangy top notes of verbena and lemon rind, a sensuous, herbal heart of coriander, lavender and juniper berries, and a woody base of patchouli, sandalwood and fir balsam. The result was a product that was undeniably masculine, one that any man could purchase proudly. Although not launched in the U.S. until 1984, it quickly became one of the leaders in men's scents, and was an instant success in Europe and continues to be a leading seller, and you never forget that smell, it is instantly recognisable.

The second bottle is one that my father used, since he was in his early teens and that was, Old Spice by Procter & Gamble.  It still has a fresh and manly smell to me, that is at once distinctly robust but not overpowering or sweet.  To this day, I could easily pick out that memorable aroma in a room of other sashaying fragrances.  The Old Spice fragrance remains attractive after all these years, going head-to-head in blind tests with any designer cologne you care to mention and has retained its identity as a refreshing, invigorating part of the morning routine.

My father wears this cologne, when he's at home.  I remember, that he told me once, that a cologne, should clean and condition the skin leaving it moisturised and this particular fragrance, lasts much longer that other after shave lotions.  To me, it didn't matter what he wore, he always smelled so nice and when he wore, the unmistakably masculine scent of Old Spice, he had a cool, crisp, clean and outdoorsy, manly scent.

It was my mother, that guided my father by the hand and gently guided him into the world of fragrances.  As the years progressed, his third cologne would be, Armani by Giorgio Armani. Launched by the design house of Giorgio Armani
in 1984, Armani is classified as a luxurious, fruity fragrance.  This masculine scent possesses a blend of citrusy top notes of
lemons, oranges and bergamot combined with middle and lower tones of clove, coriander, nutmeg and aromatic wood.

As I came back into reality, he utterly, looked so damm sexy, with those low rise briefs.  The fabric was very tight fitting and at his back the thin fabric clung so tightly to his buttocks, that you could see his taut, well-rounded ass-cheeks rising and flexing, with every step he took.  In the front, the white flexible material clearly outlined his huge, bull balls and the thick shaft of his cock, sneaking down to the left in a meaty arch.

He took the Drakkar Noir, cologne and splashed some on his face, sprinkled some on his powerful, muscular hairy chest and also on his huge, iron-strong arms.  He then, motioned me to come over and with his giant hand, gently rubbed the leftover of cologne on my face and neck.  He gave me a warm smile, winked and gave me a playful pat the butt, he went to his closet and took out a pair of well worn, blue jeans.

He simply looked amazing and quite breathtaking.  As he put on the white t-shirt, he flexed his heavy-weight pectorals and I was in awe of the flatness of his stomach and the precision and clearly discernable shape of his strongly well developed abs.  The shirt, clung to his broad shoulders, his clearly-defined massive pecs, across his broad chest and down to the ridges of his
well-defined abdomen.  His tight jeans bulged with his strongly muscled thighs and the impressive, big bulge, that tented the blue fabric at his crotch.

He sat on the bed and grabbed a pair of white socks, put some talcum powder on his feet and then, put on his white running shoes.  Now that he was formally and fully dressed, and washe was certainly alluring to look at.  His magnificently strong and muscular body looked innocent, luring, and magnetic.  In the final presentation, he was displayed as if someone had carefully arranged this scene to present him in the most captivating, seductive and provocative way imaginable.

Looking up at him from below, made the massiveness of his physique even more dominant.  He smiled at me and said.

"Well, we're ready.  Let's head downstairs and have lunch!.", he lifted me up on his shoulders and made our way downstairs.

My mother and grandmother were setting up the meal on the dining room and whatever, they had prepared, simply smelled delicious.  My mother, smiled at the both of us and said.

"Lunch is ready, guys.  We're having Penne Primavera, with Cucumber Salad.", and started to serve the appetizing pasta, on the plates.

This was certainly a savory dish.  This particular dish, my mother prepared it in a vegetarian style.  With red onions, garlic cloves, red bell pepper, asparagus, sugar snap peas, zucchini squash, yellow squash, plum tomatoes, fava beans, fresh basil, red pepper flakes, vegetable stock, arrowroot and black pepper.

I enjoyed having this pasta and the cucumber salad, it's a perfect accompaniment, for this dish.  I had only one serving of pasta, mostly due to the exciment and second, because I didn't want to have a full stomach.  Once, the whole family, was done with the meal, my father and I, headed upstairs and went to brush our teeth.

 He came out of his bedroom, with his sports bag in hand, smiled, stroked my cheek and said.

"Allright, Sport. Ready to go?", and he gently stroked my left cheek.

"Yeah.......I'm ready!", and ran into my room and grabbed my sports bag.

As we headed downstairs, my mother was waiting for us both and once again, reminded my father, not to let me out of his sight.  He nodded, reassured her and gave her a long kiss on the lips.  Then it was my turn and as she gave me a kiss on the cheek, she said.

"Dante, stay close to your father and don't wonder around.  The two fo you, behave!", and she walked with us to the front porch.

As we walked into the front yard, the weather was quite warm, breezy and very sunny.  My father, looked at his watch and
told my mother, that we should be back around 7:00 p.m., the latest.

My father, walked to the Fiat, opened the back seat and put our sports bags in there.  I sat on the front, adjusted my seat belt and waved to my mom and grandmother.  My father, then put on his seat belt, turned on the radio and we were, finally on our way.  We drove north-west of the city, the sports center was located on the highest hillside in San Remo, amidst a  gorgeous forest of oaks, pines and sycamores.

Via Montenapoleone, was full of twists and turns, with beautiful giant trees, that gave plenty of shade.  The higher we went, the more amazing the view was, one could see the bay, ships and the splendid ocean, the view was panoramic.  There was a deer sign up ahead and my father pointed to the right and sure enough, I saw 5 deer jump into the bushes, as we got closer to the top of the hill.  There were buses that were coming and going, the public transit system made frequent trips to the sports center.

As we were driving, my father, made it clear to me that the sports center, was a very big building and that I was to stay with him at all times.  He saw the exciment in my eyes, smiled and said.

"We're going to go swimming first, Sport.  Then, I'll give you a tour of the place.", he playfully messed up my hair and smiled.

As we got to the parking lot of the sports center, I realized that my father was not joking, when he had said, that it was a
"very big building".  That was certainly an understatement, this place was colossal in size and quite an impressive building.
My father, then parked in the shade and when we got out of the car, even from afar, this building was certainly intimidating,
parts of the building date back to the early 1700's and there have been many additions and restorations over the centuries.

As I got closer to the entrance, I saw two huge and beautiful marble statues at the top of the steps.  I asked my father as to who they were and he said one was the Roman God, Jupiter and his beloved son Hercules.  My heart was beating so fast, that I grabbed my father's hand and looked up at him for comfort and safety.  I smiled at those alluring hazel eyes and the warmth in his eyes, was very conforting, he then gave me a sweet smile and we walked, hand in hand, up the limestone steps and past the huge marble columns.

To be continued!