Date: Wed, 22 Jun 2005 10:51:14 +0200 From: A.K. Subject: Who has to forgive - chapter 5/9 (Young Friends) ---------------------------- WHO HAS TO FORGIVE by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2005 written the 2nd of February, 1993 translated by the author English text kindly revised by David ----------------------------- USUAL DISCLAIMER "WHO HAS TO FORGIVE" 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. ----------------------------- CHAPTER 5 RED ROSES They were lying languidly on the wide bed, their limbs intertwined, gently caressing and kissing each other from time to time. When their eyes met, they exchanged a broad smile. "What time is it? Do you have to be back to the house for supper?" Roberto asked, looking nervously at the clock. "No, I have permission to stay out for supper, but I have to be back at eleven. Would you invite me for supper?" "So we still have more than five hours..." Roberto said happily. "Yes... and even that seems too little to me." "Will you ever be able to spend the night here?" "Unfortunately no I can't. I'm still a minor." "How long is it before you'll be twenty one?" "Three years and nine months. But when I'm eighteen I can look for a home outside there." "So then, in nine months, you could be spending your nights with me..." "That is right." "Nine months... the time it takes for a baby to be born..." "The time it takes for our love to be born." "It is already born!" "No, it has just been conceived. Now it has to grow up, to get stronger, until it can breathe on its own." Antonello lightly played with Roberto's genitals. The young man smiled at him and bent down to kiss him. "Do you feel good about being with me, Antonello?" "Perfectly, up to now. You are better than anything I expected. I think you may really be the man of my dreams." "I'm sure that you are the man of my dreams." "I'm still just a boy..." "But are you my boy?" "I really think so." "Why are you always so cautious?" "In the past I've been deceived a few times." "And yet, in spite of your seventeen years, you are more mature than I am." "No, I've just fucked more than you... it's different. For me, too, what has begun between us is something completely new. I've always dreamed of love, but I've never actually had it. I'm asking myself if at last I've found it. If perhaps I've finally found true love with you." "I really hope so." "So do I, Roberto." They kept silent for a long while, savoring their closeness. Then Roberto suggested: "Let's go fix supper now, so later we'll have more time to be together." "Yes, all right." They got up and Roberto looked for two robes. They put them on and went to the kitchen. Together, they fixed a light supper, simple and fast. While Antonello was managing the stove, Roberto looked at the nape of his neck, thinking that the boy was wonderful even from behind. With his hand he caressed Antonello's neck. The boy quivered. "You are beautiful!" Roberto whispered leaning against him and hugging him from behind. "Even viewed from the back?" "Definitely." Antonello felt Roberto's rod hardening and he pushed his hips back to feel it better, to enjoy it. "You want me again..." he whispered, pleased. "Yes..." "Let's eat first, and then..." "And then?" Roberto pressed, brushing his hardness against the boy's buttocks. "And then I'll do anything you want." "Anything?" "Anything." "Promise?" "Promise." "I would like to stay inside you without Cumming right away like I did the other two times. I would like to stay inside you, hard, for a long time. And take you, take you, take you without Cumming." "That would be great..." the boy murmured. They hurriedly ate their supper and went back to the bed. They started making love again, both of them filled with desire. This time Roberto managed to control himself, to resist longer, much longer to their mutual pleasure. Antonello very much liked feeling him inside him and told him so. Roberto said: "Me, too. I love being inside you like this." "What are you feeling?" "I feel warmth, acceptance, merging of our two souls and great desire from you. I feel that now, but when it's you taking me, we really become a single entity, one flesh. And I also feel a sweet, tender intimacy. And I feel a strong male..." "I too feel strong and male when you are inside me, you know?" the boy lightly said, then added: "And I feel you are mine. And then, the thought that you will leave something of yours inside me makes me feel that a part of you will be with me forever, because it will become a part of me." "That's beautiful..." "Yes, very." While they were softly talking, Roberto continued to move back and forth inside Antonello with calm, strong gentleness. But also with increasing energy that, with the approach of a new orgasm, became vehement. As Roberto was taking him from the front, their eyes were locked on one another. And when Antonello read in them the approach of the critical point, he rapidly masturbated himself to cum, while urging him: "Go on... go on, Roberto... go on... harder... Make me feel it... all of it... Make me feel how much you like it... you like me... Oh, yes, go on... so... sooo... harder... Oh, Roberto, how great... go on, go on... Oh... ooh... Oooh!" and both moaned aloud their pleasure, their orgasm. Roberto collapsed on his friend and they kissed and caressed, relaxing in the sweetness of the post-orgasm. They remained so, intertwined, until their breathing calmed, and Roberto's member, after several minutes, softened and slipped out from the warm receptacle. Then they both sighed. "What time is it?" Antonello asked. "Five past ten." "Thirty minutes more, then I have to get dressed..." "It's a shame. It would be beautiful to fall asleep like this..." "It would be beautiful, yes. Nine months more, then it'll be possible." "Nine long months." "Nine months too long! But they will pass, my lover," Antonello said, caressing his companion. That night both of them woke up often, Roberto in his apartment, Antonello in the room at the "house." And every time they thought of each other. Antonello told his "boy" there in the house that he was free. The boy wasn't happy about it, but there was nothing he could do but accept it. But he asked him: "Do you have someone else?" "Yes." "Here in the house?" "No, outside." "Is he beautiful?" "So very beautiful, to me." "How old is he?" "The right age." "Are you happy?" "So much more than happy." "Good." And their talk ended. Antonello, during the night, often saw one of his mates slipping stealthily into the bed of another. And he thought that he would have liked to be able to go and slip into Roberto's bed, and stay there the whole night. For the first time he felt the burden of having to live there in the "house." He met with Roberto every day, usually between 4 and 7 p.m. And on Thursdays, the day the bar was closed, they spent the whole day together, from 8 a.m. to 11 p.m. Roberto, agreeing with Antonello, decided not to go to the bar any more, as he was sure they couldn't hide their feelings for each other, and they would have been found out. Little by little, they got to know each other better, and the better they knew each other, the better they fit together. They had long talks on the most varied topics. Antonello was curious about everything, he reasoned about everything and Roberto followed him in his reasoning with pleasure. Leo showed up at the bar a couple of times but in the end, faced with the boy's repeated and definite no's, he gave up. One day, Roberto said to his boyfriend: "Antonello, when you're eighteen, will you come and live with me?" "I would like it a lot. But then, what would people say?" "I don't give a shit about what people would say!" "We live in a small town... It could become difficult for both of us. I could lose my job, and I would regret that. I like being a bartender. When I'm older I'd like to have my own bar." Then Roberto said: "I have a small apartment that's still empty on the floor below this. You can live there, at least officially." "People..." "It is directly under this one. We can build an internal stair, a winding staircase. The staircase can be closed off in a cubbyhole, so that even if somebody comes to visit you, they can't see it." "Yes, but the masons would know it, and people gossip..." "If I had it made now, before you're eighteen and you move in..." "Well, yes... it might just work..." The next day, Roberto found a renovation firm on the other end of town, and arranged to have the two apartments connected. The winding staircase went from his photographic laboratory to a closet downstairs. In two weeks the masons broke through the flooring and put in the staircase. Then Roberto said to Antonello: "Now you have to decide how to furnish your new home..." "But I'll always stay here with you, won't I?" "But you will always enter and leave the building from the apartment downstairs. And if you want to invite a friend, somebody..." "I don't have real friends. I won't invite anybody." "No, that's nonsense. Besides, life always presents changes. Listen to me. Besides, it's fun to furnish a home." "I have to wait until I'm of age, to use my money." "I'll give you the money, I have plenty." After Roberto insisted a little longer, Antonello gave in. They went together to choose the furniture for the kitchen, the bedroom and the living room. The boy always chose the less expensive furniture, while Roberto wanted him to choose the finest, so they compromised. In any case, Roberto very much liked the boy's comments and judgment, along with his taste, while they were making their choices. When the apartment was ready, it was just two months before Antonello's eighteenth birthday. "Should we have an official inauguration now?" Roberto proposed. "No, we'll do it on my birthday. And you can guess what my plans are to inaugurate it, can't you?" "No..." Roberto lied. "Well, in that case you'll have to wait two months to find out..." Antonello answered, half seriously. "Can't you give me something in advance?" "No!" the boy dryly answered, but then, afraid his friend might take it seriously and be hurt, gave him a broad smile. He approached his lover and kissed him on the mouth for a long while: "Be satisfied with this, for the time being." "I'm not satisfied at all!" Roberto answered and grabbed him, embraced him, holding him tight against himself, trying to kiss him again. Antonello, laughing, wriggled out of the hold and they started a mock struggle where the boy did his best to escape him, and the young man to hold him fast. Antonello freed himself and Roberto chased him all around the room, tackled him and they fell on the floor. Roberto jumped on top of him and started to open the boy's trousers. Antonello wriggled to free himself, laughing. He struggled and kicked out, but his lover, stronger than he, held him fast and continued to undress him. Little by little he managed to pull off the boy's trousers, and then his shirt. Both of them were aroused. Roberto almost tore away his underpants and sat triumphantly on his lover's hard pole: "You are mine, admit it!" "No, I'm mine!" the boy answered laughing. Roberto managed, with some difficulty, to pull off Antonello's undershirt, too: "You are naked!" "No, I still have my shoes and..." "That can be easily taken care of!" Roberto answered, keeping him still on the floor with his body and one arm, while with his free hand he pulled off his shoes and socks. Again he sat on him, locking his arms at his sides, holding them fast with his knees. They were both panting, sweaty, ruffled. "I'm mine!" Antonello repeated, panting. "Oh, really?" the young man merrily said -- he opened his shirt and pulled it off. Antonello was again wriggling. Roberto pulled off his undershirt and threw it to one side. "To get your trousers off, you have to let me go," Antonello teased him, continuing to struggle to free himself. "Just watch me..." Roberto answered and with a series of maneuvers turned his lover onto his belly, always keeping him between his legs, then with one hand he locked Antonello's wrists together on his back. "Fucking hell, you have hands of steel!" the boy protested. Roberto pulled off his shoes and socks, then also his trousers and briefs with a series of contortions, and little tugs. When finally Roberto was also stark naked, he made the boy lie again on his back. "And now, let's see if you aren't mine!" he said, waving his beautifully erect member at him. Antonello laughed. Roberto turned him on his side and scooped at his back, holding him fast with his arms and legs. Antonello was again struggling with all his might: "No, I'm not yours, I'm mine!" he repeated laughing. "No, you're mine, and now I'll prove it to you," Roberto retorted, holding the boy's chest tight with his arm to keep his arms still, then with the hand that was now free he started to put saliva on the boy's clenched hole. Antonello bucked and kicked with all his strength. With his leg Roberto held the boy's legs firmly. "Say you are mine!" "No, I'm mine!" the boy cheerfully repeated. Roberto put his rod between Antonello's buttocks and pushed. Then, with the help of his free hand, he located the little slippery hole and pushed a little: "Admit you are mine, and I'll let you go." "No, I'm mine," Antonello repeated shuddering with pleasure. Then Roberto gathered all his energies, gave a big thrust and sank himself completely into the hot channel of his lover: "Tell me you are mine!" the young man repeated his voice hoarse with pleasure. "Yes... I'm yours! Don't leave me... God, how beautiful... I'm all yours! Fuck me, Love, go on... make me feel how I belong to you!" The boy panted, pushing himself against his lover's groin and quivering. Roberto began happily hammering into him. "Yes, like that... Oh, Roberto, you are not only hot and sweet, you... you are also strong and beautiful... You are the man of my dreams... I'm yours, all yours... Like that, yes... go on..." Roberto, continuing his strong hip thrusts, was now masturbating Antonello while he ran his other hand all over Antonello's body. The boy tossed against him, rocking, prey to an incredible pleasure. But Roberto wanted them to be face to face. So, still well embedded inside the boy, he turned onto his back pulling the boy on top of him, then made him sit up, always firmly impaled on his burning mace, then had him pivot, hinged on his throbbing peg, until Antonello was facing him. Then Roberto sat up, embracing his boy's torso and holding him tight against his chest and, keeping him always firmly impaled on his rod, he folded his legs under his thighs and slowly he stood up. Antonello encircled his waist with his legs and his neck with his arms to stay close to him. Their mouths were glued together and their tongues played with one another intimately and sensually. Roberto moved several steps into the room and took him to the table, where he laid him on his back. Then he raised the boy's legs, seized him firmly by the waist and resumed pumping into him with manly vigor. Antonello was biting and licking his lips and panted aloud: "Pound me, go on... pound me, Love!" he begged, unnecessarily. "Tell me I'm yours... all yours... only yours!" "Yes, you are mine. You are my wonderful male!" Roberto said hoarsely. Antonello was masturbating rapidly. Roberto gave such strong strokes that the table jumped and moved. "You are mine, Antonello, mine!" "Yes, Love... yours!" "Oh... ooh... Oooh, Antonelloooo!" "Yes, Love, yeeees!" and finally they both came, with strong contractions. They were exhausted. Antonello, still panting, asked him: "How many boys did you rape like that, before you met me?" "No one, you know that." "Yes, I know. But you could do it, you are so strong!" "I'd never do it! Just now we were joking, it's different." "I like your jokes... My head is spinning..." "Mine too..." "Well... I guess that now this apartment has been inaugurated. You won..." "Are you sorry?" "No, on the contrary..." Antonello sweetly said caressing his man's chest. Roberto slowly slipped out of his friend, sat him up on the table and embraced and kissed him: "But your idea... we can still do it for your eighteenth birthday, can't we?" "Of course we can!" "Let's go lie on your bed for a while." "Do you want to inaugurate that, too?" Antonello asked him with a sly smile and walked in front of him. They lay on the new single bed, close to each other. "Do you like it here?" Roberto asked him. "Yes, but I prefer upstairs." "Really? Why?" "Because that's where I first met you. My whole life changed, up there." Antonello said with a dreamlike voice. "Right," Roberto thought, "my life was also turned upside down the moment I first saw you, when I shot my first picture of you. All my priorities changed. You now come before all and everything. My life now has meaning, true meaning. Now I really feel like I am a man, a living being. Living, thanks to you..." But he couldn't find the strength to express these words, these feelings with words. It seemed to him that words were inadequate, that they might trivialize what he was feeling. So he just smiled at Antonello, lightly caressing him, losing himself in his eyes. The boy asked him: "What are you thinking about?" "That I feel good," Roberto answered simply, but his eyes were talking for him, and Antonello read in them, and felt better than he had ever felt before. "Roberto?" "Yes, Love?" "Do you believe in God?" "Yes, I do." "And... what do you think he thinks of us?" "I think he is smiling on us." "Yes, I do too. And that he will smile on us as long as we love each other." "But life... life may not always smile on us." "Life... it is also made up of other people, of misunderstanding, of pain. But together, we are strong. I feel very strong, now that I have you." "I love you, Antonello." "Me too." "No more caution?" "None." Finally the day of Antonello's eighteenth birthday came, so he could ask for, and obtain, authorization to go to live on his own. Being still a minor, he was under the authority of the juvenile court, but no longer of the "house". So he moved into the small apartment on the third floor on Saint Sebastian Lane, although in fact he lived with Roberto on the fourth floor. And at last he could spend whole nights with his lover, and all his free time, too. For his birthday Antonello asked for, and got, a day off from the bar, so he could spend all of it with Roberto. That morning, early, he gathered all his few belongings from his locker in the dormitory, put them all in a military sack, bid goodbye to all his mates, greeted the director who gave him his bank savings account book and, at a quick walk, he went to Roberto's house. When he turned onto Saint Sebastian Lane he greeted with a nod the saint's statue behind the light wrought iron gate (he had seen the photomontage on the wall behind his lover's bed, and now he too considered him his patron saint) and in his mind he thanked him. Then, going up the lane, he looked towards the terrace and was not disappointed -- Roberto was already there, waiting for him. From afar they waved at one another. Those last meters flew. As usual, he climbed the steps two at a time. Roberto was already at the door waiting for him. He took the big military bag from the boy, they entered and embraced. "At last..." Antonello whispered, shuddering and happy in the arms of his man. "We were together just yesterday evening, and yet it seems like an eternity to me. Last night I almost couldn't sleep. Time just wouldn't pass..." Antonello panted, slightly breathless from running. "Are you tired?" Roberto asked. "Not any more. I feel full of strength, here with you." "How much strength?" the young man asked, with a smile full of allusions. "Enough to make love to you all day long if that is your desire." Antonello answered, brushing his face against the neck and shoulder of his man and giving him lot of pecks. "Come into the other room. There is a present for you, for your eighteenth birthday." "Really? What is it?" "Come on..." He led the boy by the hand into the living room. On the table towered a huge cake with eighteen lighted candles. "A cake! How beautiful, thank you!" "My present... is not the cake." "No? Where is it, then?" "It's in the cake." "It's in the cake? You mean inside?" "Yes." "Then... we'll have to eat it all, and fast!" the boy joked. "May I blow them out?" "Sure, but do it in just one try, if you want your wish to come true." Antonello nodded. He went up to the cake, took a breath and blew with all his might. Roberto clapped his hands: "Very good! Happy birthday, my Beloved." They embraced and French kissed. Then Roberto stepped back and handed him a knife: "Cut it..." Antonello started to cut it from the side to the middle, and there he stopped: "There is something... I can feel it with the blade. Will I ruin it if I keep cutting?" Roberto shook his head. Antonello rummaged inside the cake with the tip of the knife and pried it out. From the cake emerged a small box of black plastic. Antonello took it between his thumb and finger, cleaned the crumbs and icing from it, turned it in his hand, then opened it. Inside was a key holder with a key. "What's this?" he asked, taken aback. "A key." "I see that, but... a key for what? This isn't for a door." "No." "It looks... it looks like the key... to a motorbike?" "Didn't you want one?" "Oh yes!" "Now you have one." "Oh, Roberto! And... Where is the bike?" "Downstairs, in the lane. Didn't you see it?" "No, I had no time to look at anything..." "Would you like to go downstairs?" "Yes... is it OK with you?" "Of course." While they were going downstairs, the boy asked: "But... the key holder is gold?" "Yes." "And this little stone on the corner?" "It is a ruby. And we will add one for each year we're together." "There isn't enough room, then." "Forty-two will fit, all together. I measured it." "Like I said, there isn't enough room!" "In that case, we'll buy a second key holder," Roberto answered with a smile. The motorbike, sparkling new, was parked in front of the printer's shop; it was a beautiful flaming red Gilera, the latest model. "It's... its awesome! It's built for two. We can take some nice trips, you and me. Thank you... thank you!" Antonello said and felt an impulse to hug him, but he held back, so as not to put on a show for the passers-by. "Do you want to try it out?" "Later. We'll have plenty of time. Now there are more urgent matters, let's go back upstairs." Roberto nodded, sweetly smiling. While they were on the stairs he asked, "Do you have the keys to the third floor with you?" "Yes, you gave them to me yesterday." "Let's go up through there, all right?" Antonello nodded. He opened the door -- the small apartment was filled with bunches of red roses. "But... you spent a fortune! So many roses! What a beautiful smell! It's almost too much, it makes my head spin." "You make my head spin, beloved." They embraced tightly. "Let's go upstairs..." Antonello invited. Without a word, they went upstairs through the winding staircase, and went into the bedroom. Here, kissing and caressing, they undressed each other. They contemplated each another's nudity, standing face to face, brushing each other's body with long sensual caresses, exciting and filled with promises. "You are so beautiful, beloved! I want to shoot pictures of you naked..." "Yes, Roberto! How about shooting the pictures outside, under the arbor." "Later..." "No, do it now. Now while we're aroused." "But I want you." "I want you also. But that means... you'll capture my desire for you in the pictures, too..." Roberto yielded. He took his camera and the tripod, and they went onto the terrace. The sun at forty five degrees, the autumn sky an intense blue -- perfect. Antonello's body, kissed by the sun, shone and was splendid. Roberto started shooting. He wanted to seize all his contours, to capture all his expressions. He captured him at times sweet and languid, at other times cunning and full of promises, at fleeting times shuddering in his anticipation of someone. Antonello moved with instinctive naturalness, almost like a professional model. His secret was simple, he wasn't thinking about the pictures at all, about the camera, but just about his man, about his desire for Roberto, about Roberto's desire for him. He was not offering his body, his poses, his excitement to a lens, but to his lover. His body thus responded in a spontaneous and sensual way to Roberto's requests, and the young man was delighted. At times he captured his lust, and not only in the throbbing, erect member, in the small firm and hard nipples, but also in his inviting glances, promising him delights. At times he captured his sweet abandon -- his slender sides, his face with the slightly parted lips and the lowered eyes, almost shy, his hands placed lightly on his hips. At times shuddering expectation -- his magnetic eyes, the half open mouth, almost if he were begging, his hands stretched forward to welcome him, his legs slightly flexed almost as if to better sustain the anticipated impact... At times burning desire -- one hand brushing his own nipple, the other caressing his beautiful turgid member on the tip of which shone a precious flickering pearl, his belly tense and flat, his breath held back, his eyes slightly widened almost as if to say: "Come!" And Roberto left his camera and went to pluck that flower that was just waiting to be plucked. They finally joined there, on the luminous terrace, while flights of birds circled high in the sky, almost as if they were unable to part from the scene of the two lovers tied in that marvelous embrace. They joined, giving themselves to each other with enthusiasm. And later, when they parted, sated at last for the moment, Roberto shot more pictures of his beloved, now languidly stretched on the warm tiles, his eyes shining with sweet repletion, a smile suffused with bliss, his member still partially erect, resting on his thigh. Then leaning against the trunk of the wisteria, his body sinuous and smooth, His skin fair and velvety, making a wonderful contrast with the rough, twisted and dark trunk, his eyes filled with grateful love, his beautiful member gently hanging between his shapely thighs. And then in profile, his face immersed in a cluster of wisteria flowers held in his cupped hands, to intoxicate him self with their intense smell, as if to complete the rapture he had just experienced with his lover. ----------------------------- CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 6 ----------------------------- In my home page I've put some 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 English stories please e-mail at andrej@andrejkoymasky.com ---------------------------