12/24/1990, Wednesday
Christmas Eve
I got a message from Gianni on my answer machine, apologizing for the long silence (and what about me, who hasn't called him either?) and he said we had to meet. He gave me his greetings for Christmas and the New Year then passed the phone to Orlando who simply said his greetings for the holidays. It is evident that Orlando doesn't want others to know about us. When there are other people with him, he is laconic, completely different from when we are alone. Heaven knows!
12/29/1990, Monday
Saint Thomas
At three o'clock exactly, Livio called to ask me if he could come and meet me. I was somewhat surprised, but I told him yes. He arrived at 3:38. When I opened the door, he had his usual smile on his lips and that sensual look which immediately made me feel a strong desire towards him. I showed him in and we sat in my living room. He gave me a small parcel and said it was just a small thing, a New Year's Day present. We chatted about art for a while then I showed him a book about art reproductions to illustrate to him some of the techniques we were talking about. I was bending over him, and I started to caress his neck almost without thinking. After a while, he leaned his cheek against my chest and turned his face upwards towards me. I bent more to kiss him and he started to play his tongue against mine. I was terribly excited. I caressed his chest, and he leaned more closely against me. Our kiss became deep, and I lowered my hand to caress the bulge between his legs. Through the fabric of his trousers, I fingered and outlined the powerful erection he had. He was letting me do it, but I was expecting him to stop me like the last time in the classroom.
On the contrary, he lay down on the sofa, pulling me on top of himself, and continued to play with my tongue. I opened his belt then unbuttoned his fly. Through his pearl-gray underpants that clearly showed his turgid member, I started to caress it with my fingertips. He let me do it. I caressed it with more vigor, and he started to pant heavily with his eyes closed, especially when I started to tease his nipples, slipping my other hand under his sweater and shirt. Then I freed his member from its last layer of protection and held it tightly in my hand. He emitted a moan and shuddered. I then bent down and started to give him head. He emitted a long moan and pushed his pelvis towards me while caressing my back.
I almost couldn't believe what was happening. While continuing to suck and caress him, I gradually undressed him then undressed myself. When he felt my naked body on top of his own, he jolted but he caressed my sides and my back with both his hands. He was trembling. I slipped my member between his legs and pushed under his swollen testicles, trying slowly to gain access to his firm and small ass.
"No, not there..." he murmured. "I desire you, Livio," I said, not withdrawing. "I never did it with a man. Please, not there." He insisted. So, I stopped trying to take him. We squeezed against each other until we both came, and he was moaning and jolting. We remained in this way until our breathing was back to normal.
He cleaned up and got dressed without a word, and I followed suit. "Do you want coffee?" I asked him, trying to break the embarrassment that I felt in the air. "Yes, thank you," he said.
After a short while, he became talkative and cheerful again, nice and gentle like usual, but it was clear that he didn't want to talk about what just happened.
He stayed for one more hour, and finally he repeated his New Year's greetings with a broad smile and left. "We will meet again at the school after the holidays, professor."
Was he just curious to try with a man once? Was he attracted to me? Did he come here with that idea on his mind, or he just let himself get carried away with my caresses? Will this experience ever happen again? I would have liked so much to take him, but I can understand his reluctance. We will see...
1/10/1991, Saturday
Saint Aldus
Orlando hasn't called.
Nuccio couldn't come last week. His parents were mad at him because he spent three days at home with his boyfriend and didn't ask his parents beforehand. He was to come today at five.
He came at ten past five and he looked crushed. He was coming from the home of his boyfriend, who had just broken up with him. He was depressed. He had stomach ache, and he felt very bad. He told me that he really didn't feel like taking more drawing lessons for the time being. He apologized, embraced me, gave me a peck, and then said that as soon as he feels better, he would call me to meet again. He left just a few minutes later (he didn't even take off his coat).
He made me feel so much tenderness. It hurts me to see him so down, and in so much pain. I should be happy since Nuccio is free now, but I can't because I am really sorry to see him so depressed and hurt. I don't know why he broke up with his boyfriend. I didn't feel like asking him and he probably wouldn't feel like telling me. Maybe he can tell me when he feels a little better. I didn't like his boyfriend at all that time I saw him. Nuccio is such a nice, sweet, gentle, caring, and cheerful boy, but that man seemed like a person who doesn't give a damn, and I am not saying so just because he was my rival.
Even today, Nuccio was nice. He even seemed younger than he really is, almost like a fifteen-year-old boy, lost, broken-hearted. Poor Nuccio. I would like to be able to do something for him, but unfortunately I can only wait for him to feel better.
At 8 p.m., Orlando called me. He thanked me for the New Year's greeting card. He said he didn't expect to receive any card since he didn't give his address to anyone. Thus mine had been the only one, and it gave him a great deal of joy. He apologized for not having sent me a card, but he didn't have my address. We talked for a while and he said that he was doing some major cleanings and therefore he was tired. We chatted about this and that, then I asked him when he would want to start studying French with me. He said he had wanted to ask me about that but was embarrassed. So I asked him again when he would want to start. He said tomorrow evening, but I already have another lesson. So, we decided to meet next Saturday -- I'll go to his place at 7 p.m.
On the phone, he was nice and sweet as usual. If we start having lessons, I'll meet him once a week, more or less. But maybe Mik will also be there? I didn't ask him. Anyway, even if Mik is there, just the fact of seeing him more often is something that pleases me very much. Then, we will see -- "one thing can lead to another," it is said. In any case, I know he likes me. I sure like him a lot.
So again, I find myself with my foot in two different shoes, or more exactly, in three.
In a sense, Dad was happy that all three boys wanted to make love with him in one way or another. He felt desirable and desired, I think, and this pleased him. But at the same time, he wished that one of the three boys would tell him "I want to be your boy." He would have given himself, body and soul, to that boy. But which one of them?
Once he told me that he felt almost like "an antique being sold at an auction. If somebody offered even just a thousand liras, he would take it, since there isn't much interest..." The term "antique" was referring to his age, with a sense of self-mocking. He never felt like an old man, and yet he knew he was regarded so by many. And he said he was like being sold at an auction because he was waiting for one of the three boys to say "I love you" and to give himself to him.
I smiled at his analogy and told him that anybody could win the bid at the auction, and then he would discover what a real treasure he had found.
He said to me in a low voice, "Stop it..." but he smiled. "It's you who started it," I answered him. And I was aware that he was moved.
1/13/1991, Tuesday
Saint Hilarion
Yesterday evening (actually this morning) at 12:15, Orlando called. After a few pleasantries, he told me he needed ask me something. "What?" I asked him. But he immediately said "no, it was a selfish thing. It's better to forget it." I had some idea what he was talking about, so I insisted that he ask me. So he finally said that Mik called to say that he wouldn't be back tonight, therefore he was alone, and he would have liked for me to go to his place...
I got dressed quickly, then took a taxi and arrived at his apartment at 12:45 with my usual choux a la crème. He was already in his bed waiting for me. We embraced, kissed, and I undressed and joined him. We started to make love at once. I like him so madly, but I had two problems yesterday evening -- the first was that I just masturbated in the evening (however I was rather aroused); the second was that like other times, although he absolutely desired to be taken by me ("Fuck me," he whispered to me, filled with desire), in reality he could feel pain and this would make me cool down. So in the end, I made him cum by giving him head and I didn't cum. But I was happy all the same, just for the fact of being in bed with him.
Then we slept, naked, with our limbs intertwined and embraced. I didn't sleep so well because I woke up often, but just feeling him near me was a splendid sensation. It was the first time for me to spend a whole night with him. He curled against me while sleeping.
We woke up around seven o'clock this morning. We both were aroused, so we started to make love again. This time I was more excited, so I took him, with intense reciprocal pleasure. It was a joy to look at his smiling, satisfied face while I was thrusting inside him! We came almost at the same time, moaning aloud our pleasure. Then we ate the choux. I showered and then he went to take a shower as well.
When he came out from the shower, he curled on the bed against me and we gradually resumed making love. He came again masturbating himself, while I took him again and he tossed underneath me. He was so excited to be deeply penetrated. He gently bit my nipple and I suddenly unloaded inside him while he was moaning "Oh yes... yes... fill me up!"
I like him so very much, even though I would have liked for him to caress and touch me more than he does when I take him -- that would arouse me even more. Nevertheless, I love him a great deal. He is sweet, passionate, and very nice. Afterwards we made love, we cuddled each other. He caressed me and smiled at me blissfully, and caressed me between my legs and I was getting aroused again.
But we had to stop because he needed to go to his work. So we dressed (I saw him with a suit and a tie for the first time -- he was sexy even when dressed in a suit) and at 9:15 we went out and took the bus together. While on the bus, he told me that we need to go to the movies or for a walk together some time. That pleased me very much. Then he got off one stop before I did, after thanking me with his usual beautiful smile, half sweet and half cunning.
Ah, Orlando, Orlando! This morning I repeated to him that I love him. He said nothing. It is clear that he likes me, but perhaps he still doesn't love me. Who knows? Mik said I have to let him take his time, but for how long? I would like it so much if he becomes my lover, and not just to make love with him from time to time when he feels the yearning. Anyway, up to now, he has always been the one who took the initiative to make love, therefore he must desire it, and desire me.
1/17/1991, Saturday
Saint Anthony
I went to Orlando's place for the first French lesson. We just had the lesson because a friend of him came to borrow a video when we just got started, and stayed there the whole time when we had the lesson. Orlando thanked me a great deal afterwards, and we made a date for next Sunday.
As usual, just being near him is already a wonderful pleasure.
1/25/1991, Sunday
Saint Paul's Conversion
Nuccio still hasn't shown up.
I went to give the French lesson to Orlando. There was also a girl there, Orlando's friend. And Mik was sleeping in the other room. So again, we just had the lesson. Heavens knows! Nonetheless, I'm glad to see him, even just to give him lessons. Who knows how it will end? Orlando attracts me more and more, although Raffaele, who met him at the "Garibaldi" last Saturday, said he didn't like him so much. Anyway, my birthday card and my two squirrels are evident enough!
We will see. I continue to desire him and be in love with him.
It was true that I didn't like Orlando, probably because from Dad's descriptions, I was expecting Orlando to be... I don't know ... special. We just said hello. Orlando was with a boy I knew, and he introduced us. I don't know if Orlando knew that I am the son of the man with whom he was making love. In reality, it's not that I disliked him. He just made a less interesting or attractive impression on me than I had expected.
I felt he was an ... uninteresting boy. And yet, if Dad was so fond of him, he must be a special boy. As I said to Dad then, maybe I should have gotten to know him better. I really don't believe what made Dad so enthusiastic about him was just Orlando's sensuality in bed. I would have liked to get to know Orlando better, but that was the only occasion we met.
2/7/1991, Saturday
Saint Theodore
Livio came to me after school and causally said, "I'm going to eat out at a restaurant since there is nobody at my home today." So I invited him to come to my place and have lunch with me. He accepted it immediately.
On the way here, I studied him and was asking myself whether he had wanted to be invited, and if he wanted to repeat what happened last time. I felt my desires arousing powerfully inside me, and I thought that if by chance it was really so, I must make it so that he wouldn't say no to me this time -- he knew what I desired to do with him.
After arriving home, I heated up some lunch and we went to sit at the table. Livio chatted merrily as usual. His smiling eyes and the sweet expression on his face attracted me more and more. To make things simpler, I poured him some rose wine, which could have the desired effect even if it's quite delicate. In fact, he became more cheerful and boastful. I didn't want him to get drunk; I wanted him fully conscious and consenting. I just hoped he would slacken his self-control a little.
After lunch, we chatted on the sofa, and I put my hand on his thigh, caressing him lightly. He leaned back with a broader smile, and I understood he was ready...
In a short while, he was naked between my arms and fully excited. So I told him to come into my bedroom and get on the bed. He quietly followed me. We lay down and embraced, and I made him become very aroused. Then I took some gel, smeared it on my finger and started to tease him between his butt cheeks. He didn't try to get away. While lightly biting his nipples, I rimmed his hole, still without penetrating it. He let me do it and was moaning with pleasure. I wanted to bring him to a state of maximum arousal so that he wouldn't withdraw...
I went on slowly, in a crescendo of caresses and kisses, while paying close attention to his reactions. I was terribly excited, and he was too, more and more. He was trying to masturbate, but I pushed his hands away, stopping him. Then, while bending over to suck him, I slipped my finger inside his hole to massage its interior. He trembled and emitted a long moan of pleasure.
Finally, I took the position to penetrate him and replaced my finger with my member. He felt it. "No..." he murmured, without trying to escape. "Yes..." I whispered, and kissed him deeply in his mouth, keeping his wrists blocked at the his sides and started to push. He broke the French-kiss and murmured softly again, "no..." "I want you," I said, pushing with more determination and forcing my member into his virgin hole.
"It will hurt..." Livio said shuddering and weakly tossing, "Yes, it probably will, but it will also give you pleasure. And I want you, you always know it. That's why you came here, isn't it?" I said self-assuredly. "No..." Livio said in a moan, feeling me starting to enter into him, but without doing anything to escape me. And now his hole was yielding and I was starting to sink inside him. Livio closed his eyes, but soon he relaxed completely. I French-kissed him again, and he returned my kiss, almost eagerly, while I continued to invade his tight and hot channel.
I started to slowly pump inside him, and Livio was accepting me, completely relaxed, his eyes still closed, his mouth open in a silent cry, and his hands, now free, were lightly brushing on my hips, almost accompanying my thrusts. I soon reached an intense orgasm inside him, and relaxed on top of him, embracing him tightly. Then, slowly slipping out from him, I told him I wanted him to cum inside my mouth. Livio opened his eyes and softly said he didn't care to cum. He'd rather we went back to the living room. He didn't have an angry expression and was smiling as usual, but he asked me to get dressed with gentle determination.
He stayed with me for a couple more hours, but when I tried to talk to him about what we did, he said determinedly, but still with his sweet smile, that he preferred not to talk of it.
He just left now. He said goodbye to me with his usual kindness, saying we would meet at school. I like Livio very much... I never felt such deep, intense emotions as when I was inside him... Maybe it was the awareness of being his first man because I took his virginity? Or it was because, in some ways, I bent him to my desires? And yet, I never found pleasure in forcing someone else before... What is happening to me?
Dad didn't tell me about this encounter with Livio. Perhaps he was somewhat ashamed (making Livio drink abundant wine, having insisted even when Livio was repeating "no", having "bent him" to his desires...) Dad did not always tell me everything, especially about his way of making love, because he had a strong sense of modesty. For instance, before reading this diary, I never knew if Dad was a top, or bottom, or both, or what he liked to do in bed.
It's not that it was important anyway.
Sure thing is that the fact that Dad resorted to petty tricks like serving abundant wine to reach his goal, in some ways made him more likeable to me, more human, less perfect, I don't know... It gave me a strong feeling of tenderness while I was reading these last lines, exactly because it was not his usual way, and yet he did it. And he didn't try to justify himself in his diary. He just wrote how things happened and what he felt and thought, before, during and after.