My luck is that I graduated in economics and trade, against my will, "inspired" by my mother and following the order of my father, I learned foreign languages very well, for my desire, with the permission of my father and the indifference of my mother, and that I am not married to my decision and against the will of both of my parents.
But let me introduce myself: my name is Daniel Savoldi, I was born in Parma, June 6, 1960, my father is a well-known accountant and my mother has a boutique in the center of Parma, not far from the famous baptistery of the thirteenth century. I am the second of four brothers, my sister Beatrice was born first, then me, Daniel, my brother John followed and last is my sister Silvana.
I attended both Primary and Secondary schools in Parma. In school I was neither particularly good nor too bad. I had my first "girl" when I was in the fourth grade. Her name was Claretta... I do not even remember what she looked like... we exchanged notes, we were often together, each one of us declared that he or she was "engaged" with the other... and that's it.
I had my second girlfriend in junior high. We were classmates. Her name was Minnie (Erminia, in reality, but she hated that name); she was funny, lively, and chubby. Also with her I was her "boyfriend" but the most we did was to give each other some peck in secret... but not enough in secret so that our classmates could see us doing it.
In fact I think both she and I just wanted to prove, both to ourselves and to the others that we were "normal." She in fact was not much sought after by other companions, precisely because she was plump and full of freckles, and as for me, contrary to what all my companions claimed, I was not attracted enough (or horny, as it was said amongst us) by girls.
It was during high school that I gradually realized that what awakened in me something vague (and less vague) was more watching a beautiful male body than a female one.
While still in junior year, a boy in my class, not in the public school, but at the private course of English in which my parents had enrolled me, taught me the classic little games that so often teens do with each other or alone - he taught me to masturbate.
I remember well that his name was Bruno, he was thirteen years old like me but he was a little more developed than me, more precocious. I liked to see him, touch him when we sank our trousers and masturbated each other... I liked seeing the hair that he had around the member, stroke them with my fingertips; I liked to touch his penis already more developed than mine, and let him touch mine. But, apart from masturbating each other, I have not done much more with that Bruno.
The first time I realized quite clearly I was "different" from my companions, was when I attended the first year at the scientific high school. In addition to studying Spanish in school and to continue as a private student the English classes, I was also enrolled in French classes, and attended a gym just behind the railways station, where I was part of the volleyball team.
It was in this gym that it happened. I was lingering in the locker room (I do not quite remember why) in front of my locker. I heard a piece of conversation between two of my teammates that I could not see because they were across the row of metal lockers. More or less what they were saying was something like this:
"... I tell you I'm sure. Every time I take a shower I see that he has a hard-on... That one likes the boys and maybe he would even want to do it with one of us, but he is afraid that we can break his nose... "
"Come on! Shit, even you and me sometimes get a hard-on, right? At our age it just happens to all of us. And we are no faggots, you and I, are we?"
"No, but what does this have to do with it? But you have to see how he looks between our legs when he believes we are not looking... I tell you that he likes the 'bird'..."
I felt myself blush, and I thought, indeed I was sure, they were talking about me.
"So you think he is a faggot?"
"Look, I would put my hand on fire!"
"Well... as long as he doesn't try with me, I do not give a fuck."
"Yeah, of course, well I too do not give a damn, but... I would rather stay away from him" he said chuckling.
"Come on, after all, he is likeable, and also full of money... If Rudy is a faggot or not, I really do not give a damn." retorted the other as they went out together.
Rudy? But then they were not talking about me and I thought with a quiet sigh of relief. In fact I also watched with growing interest between the legs and at the bodies of the most beautiful of my companions; I too got hard-on just looking at them, therefore I was sure they were talking about me.
Rudy was a faggot? A fairy, a fag, a queer? Who would have thought it? I thought, then immediately another thought almost startled me and made me gasp - but then, if Rudy is so... I am so as well!
For the first time I thought about it, I thought about it seriously, and the longer I thought about it, the more I became convinced that I really had to be "different".
Apart from that brief parenthesis with Bruno, I had never done anything with another boy therefore I never thought much about it. But now...
I was not happy with my discovery, or perhaps, at that stage, for this doubt. No boy, I think, is delighted to be different. A little I tried to convince myself that I was not so, a little instead I told myself that I had to be really so, given that girls just did not appealed to me at all, but some of my male friends did...
But the problems for a teenager, who feels different, are many. The first is that he has no models with which to compare, clear roles to follow. The second is that he has no one to confide in, open up with, to ask an opinion or a counsel. All those who have passed through this know well what I am saying. You can not certainly talk with your parents or a brother... even less with a friend or a companion: after all we know how anyone who is "different" is fucked up, ridiculed, persecuted at times.
So everything continued to stir within me, but, unfortunately, in a more and more pressing way. I continually oscillated between the desire and the hope to be like the others, a willingness to be "normal", and the fear of not being able to do anything, to be hopelessly "marked" to be a "sick" person. But a person sick of a shameful disease and, as far as I knew, an incurable one.
The movies and TV, featured models in which I could not recognize myself: flamboyant queens, ridiculous transvestites, ambiguous and tacky poor things... No, I was not so, nor did I want to become one of those that seemed to me, and who were, only caricatures. I did not know that there were already groups, associations, magazines dedicated to those who, as I discovered later, were called gay.
So I spent most of high school in this secret debacle, which sometimes made me feel discouraged, depressed, closed, and sometimes aggressive, angry, which made me mad. My parents probably thought it was just a phase many adolescents pass through, and did not care so much about it. My fellow students judged me a little "strange", but after all, not much more than the average of my peers and they accepted me with all my mood swings. Perhaps they judged me just a little more moody than the others...
Those of you who have been in Parma know that, to the south, there is the complex of the Citadel, with its ancient pentagonal fortifications... One day I went up there by bike just to do some exercise. I stopped and sat on the lawn to make a short stop. It was late May, it was almost to my seventeenth birthday. It was late afternoon.
A guy in a tracksuit was jogging and had passed before me three or four times. I noticed that every time he looked at me. The suit he wore hid his body, but his face was pretty handsome. I too watched him while he passed me and one of the times I threw him a kind of salute. He then stopped in front of me, panting slightly.
"Ugh! Enough for today..." he said and, without asking me, sat down beside me, pulled out of his pocket a small terry cloth towel, thin and large as a handkerchief, and wiped the sweat from his face.
"Tired?" I asked just to say something.
"A little. My name is Claudio, and you?"
"I'm Daniel."
"Come here often?"
"No... I'm just wandering with my bike, just to keep myself fit, but every time in a different part of the city..."
"But you are of Parma, are you not?"
"Yes, I live behind St. John the Evangelist, behind the Benedictine monastery."
"Ah, then we are almost neighbors. I live on Republic Street. You are a student, right?"
"Yes, in the scientific high school. And you? You work?"
"Yes, I am the librarian at the Biblioteca Palatina..."
"Ah, the Palace of Pillotta..."
"Right there. You surely have been there, right?"
"Sometimes, but I never noticed you..."
"Me neither... and I would remember if I had seen you, for sure." Claudio said with a smile.
He was twenty-three years old, lived alone for less than six months, not far from Piazza Garibaldi, in a small apartment that his grandmother had bequeathed to him. He invited me to accompany him to his home, I do not remember with what pretext.
I felt attracted by Claudio, his smile, his calm yet carefree manner of speaking, his warm voice, and penetrating gaze... so I followed him. The small lodging was on the fourth floor; it consisted of an entrance hall, a living room, a kitchen and a bedroom, all furnished with fine antiques, but nevertheless gave the impression of a modern, young, attractive setting.
In fact, all the walls were white, the lights were hidden and disseminated and lit with knobs that controlled the intensity; there were many beautiful green plants here and there, and posters very beautiful on the walls, with naked men: no one showed his genitals but they were all very sensual.
Claudio noted that I looked at them rather interested and asked me: "You like? They are beautiful, right?"
"Where did you find them?" I asked him.
"Traveling, especially in Germany... some also here in Italy. Some I ordered by mail, thanks to catalogs... You like them?" He asked me again.
"Yes, they are very beautiful..."
"Sensuous, aren't they? The male body is a work of art, don't you think?"
"Yes..." I said feeling a strong erection rise between my legs.
Claudio took me in his arms and whispered: "I like you a lot... come in there with me..."
Saying "in there," he clearly meant to say in his bedroom... He wanted to have sex with me... I felt my head spin, I felt confused... I wanted to go there and at the same time I was afraid. Not of Claudio, who seemed nice as well as beautiful, but of sex. I knew that was the litmus test, I realized that he would finally made clear to me if I was really gay or not... and I was afraid.
Claudio felt that I was trembling, "Come on Daniel... come on... " He insisted hugging me and making me feel his erection through our clothes.
"I... I've never done it... I... I..." I almost stammered.
I liked being in his arms, I liked the feel of his erection pressing against me, yet I was really scared, despite the fact that, when I accepted to follow him to his home, my subconscious knew why he had invited me.
He gently pushed me to his bedroom, undressed me and undressed himself, made me lie on the bed and he was beside me, hugging me again.
"Trust me, Daniel..." he whispered.
"I've never done it..." I repeated almost trembling.
"Trust me... you'll see that you'll like..." he insisted.
I was on fire, not just my body, as touching his naked body that seemed almost burning, but also my head that was spinning like a top.
"Let me do it; you'll see that you'll like it." he said again.
I let him lead. That first time he did all. He kissed, caressed, excited me very much; I could feel him everywhere, above me, beside, below, exploring my body, bringing me to quickly feel a pleasure of such an intensity I had never experienced before.
I let him do it until I suddenly came on him, splashing on him all my seed in a series of strong contractions and with low moans. I abandoned myself in his arms, panting, trembling, my eyes closed and my head empty; a pleasant feeling and at the same time a sweet sensation was lingering in me. If I remember correctly, Claudio, that first time, did not come.
"Did you like it?" he asked.
I nodded without opening my eyes.
"So... can we meet again, right?" he asked, stroking my chest.
I nodded again.
When I left his house, he gave me his phone number, telling me to call so we could be together again.
For several days, when I was alone at home, or from a pay phone, I dialed his number then hung up the handset even before it rang or immediately after the first ring. My whole body wanted to meet him again, but my mind and my heart were still scared.
Until finally, one evening after dinner, I let the phone ring.
"Hello?" asked his voice low and warm.
I did not answer - my heart was beating too fast.
"Hello? Who speaks?" Claudio asked again.
"I..." I replied in a strangled whisper.
For a while Claudio said nothing, so that I thought he had hung up. Then he asked: "Daniel? Are you Daniel, right?"
I could not answer.
"Where are you?" said Claudio.
"In Piazza Garibaldi..." I whispered.
"Are you Daniel, right?" he asked again.
"Yes ..." I almost whispered.
"Want to come over?" said Claudio.
I could not speak.
"I'd like..." Claudio insisted.
"No... I do not know..."
"Are you in the phone booth?"
"Yes..."
"Wait, I'm coming down." he said and hung up.
I also hung up, and left the booth; I looked around as if afraid that someone I knew had seen me, and could figure out to whom and why I made that call. I know that it was absurd, but I was really in full confusion. I almost decided to go away, or even to run away, before he arrived, but my feet seemed to not want to move.
I felt someone grab my arm and turned around, frightened, with a start. Claudio was looking at me with a smile. He read in my eyes surprise, fear, and confusion. Maybe even I blushed, I do not know, but certainly I felt my head and body on fire.
"Come, come on..." he invited me.
"I do not know..."
"If you do not want... we do nothing, I promise.... If you'd only talk, we'd just talk, but come over. Come on, Daniel, you know you can trust me, no?" he insisted, with patience, a winning smile on the handsome face.
I did not answer, I did not move. So he pushed me gently and guided me and I moved almost like a robot; I let him lead me to his home.
He sat me on the couch, put on a CD at low volume, lit soft lights, and sat down beside me. His body just touched mine, and yet I felt the heat through the fabric of our jeans and the sleeves of our shirts.
"So, Daniel... I was hoping you'd call me... I'm glad you came back here with me..."
I looked forward, between my knees, my hands clasped and intertwined.
He put his arm around my shoulders, pulled me to him, with two fingers made my face turn towards him, looked into my eyes, and smiled.
"I want to kiss you again..." he said.
I shook my head in a confused denial, but he took my face in his hands and bent over me and pushing my back against the back of the sofa, started kissing me in the mouth.
I let him do it, trembling more and more violently. But then my hands, almost against my will, began to undo his shirt, to caress his almost hairless and beautiful chest, and I felt more and more aroused and ready to do whatever he wanted.
He also gradually opened my clothes, stripped me. I lifted up myself to allow him to remove my jeans and boxers. Shortly after we were both naked. Claudio knelt between my legs, making me spread them, caressed me all over the body until heard me moaning softly, then bent down and began to kiss, lick, and suck my by now hard standing member. I gave up with a kind of sob, relaxing with my head thrown back on the back of the sofa.
I saw him fiddling in his dresser, and then I understood, rather than saw, that he was putting on a condom. Then with two fingers he rubbed something between my buttocks, and when he spotted my hole began to tease, to prepare it. I was shaking, and let him do it. Everything was happening too fast, but I was unable to escape, to make him stop.
He prepared me long enough, then he leaned against me and I felt the tip of his hard and strong tool make the attempt to enter inside me. I stiffened, then relaxed, and then stiffened again. I wanted it inside me and I was afraid. I wanted him to stop and did not want him to stop. I was literally turned upside down, I did not understand, I did not know what I really wanted.
"I like you. You are beautiful." Claudio said, starting to push with increasing energy.
My body reacted in a manner inconsistent with his attempt to enter inside me. There was no longer my will, everything was just happening... and I could do nothing either to accept or to oppose it.
And finally the tip of his strong member did dilate my hole and nestled inside. He pushed, pushed and I felt it overcome my instinctive resistance millimeter by millimeter... I felt it invade me, and it did not hurt, nor did I like it - it was just happening. Claudio stopped pushing.
"The worst is over, the glans is well inside. Now you will get used to it, then... Then I'll put it all inside and you'll see that you'll like it... Does it hurt now?"
I shook my head.
"You like?"
I shook my head again.
"You just have to get used to it. The worst is over. From now on it will be pure pleasure, I assure you... you just have to get used... you'll see that it's nice..." he said, caressing and teasing me in the right places.
My member, that had deflated, began to grow again, to harden. It, by itself - I did not want anything more, neither escape him nor make him take me. I was there, limp, shivering, waiting for what moves Claudio would make. No, I knew what he wanted to do: he wanted to finish to invade me, pushing it all in, then fuck me until climaxing inside me. And I waited...
Claudio, after a while, began again to push and it slid entirely inside me. I felt that it was making me dilate and that it filled me - the feeling was not unpleasant. It was just weird. Then, in his slow and continuous invading me (I remember thinking that it seemed to never end...) his strong member rubbed into me on one point that I did not suspect existed (the prostate, I now know) and I started to feel a strange pleasure.
I instinctively relaxed. And finally Claudio was completely inside me. He stopped again, making only occasionally palpitate his meat rod inside me. My body, in response, made palpitate the walls of my channel, and my dilated sphincter... My body, not me... But the pleasure was increasing.
Claudio then began to move back and forth inside me. My pleasure seemed to grow every movement in my tight hot depths... Instinctively I raised my arms, and caressed his nice chest.
"Open your eyes... look at me..." Claudio said in a soothing tone, continuing to stir inside of me slowly but vigorously.
I opened my eyes and met his gaze: I smiled.
"It's okay, right?" he asked.
I nodded.
"You like..."
I nodded again.
"You are very tight... and hot... and I like you. You were really a virgin, yeah..."
That verb in the past tense was like a revelation for me: yes, I was, I had taken the decisive step, I had let myself be taken by another guy who was fucking me now... and I liked it. It was at that point, I think, I finally agreed I am gay. Yes, what was happening on that bed was what, subconsciously, I had always wanted, and I finally got it.
The muscles of his athletic body rippled with every thrust, and his smile seemed to widen. I was making love with a male... and I liked it. And finally I was able to emit again my voice...
"Do not come right away... go on..." I whispered, blushing.
"I do not know how long I can resist, you are very tight, so hot, and you're giving me too much pleasure... But even if I come too fast... then we'll do it again, if you want..."
"Yes..." I whispered, and I totally relaxed, feeling again master of myself, and of my will.
He was not too quick - in fact, I came first even though neither he nor I had touched my cock. He emptied inside me shortly after and I thought I could feel his splashes inside me, one after another...
Then he relaxed in top of me and kissed me on the mouth...
That was the first of many encounters. Already the second time I went to his home, Claudio asked me to take him, and I liked it very much. And gradually I lost all inhibitions, all restraint.
The interesting thing is that I started again to do well in school, I re-found my good humor, I had no further changes in my mood, and everybody found that I changed for the better, and that I was now a pleasant company...
With Claudio, both before and after each meeting of sex, or even when we just went together to the cinema or dancing, there was talk about many things and he told me lot of details and aspects about the gay life, the first being the existence of that term: He also explained me that it was something "natural" despite everything I had heard so far...
Our relationship continued until I took the degree in high school that is for about two years. We were not lovers, but we were very well together and none of us, for that period, had looked for other adventures.
Claudio had introduced me to his friends, some gay men like us, others not, and also I had introduced him to my family. The official excuse was that we had met in the disco... and then met again at the Pillotta and had thus become friends.
Claudio had a very pleasant character, so he was soon accepted by my friends as I by his, and apart from his gay friends, I believe that no one has ever imagined what was in fact our true relationship. Not even my family - it was not rare that among my friends, as well as some boys of my age, mostly classmates, there were always guys older than me...
Just when my father took me to enroll at the Bocconi University and then I moved to Milan, where he also had found for me a tiny studio apartment, Claudio won a scholarship to Berlin, so our relationship ended, although for many years we stayed in contact by letter.
Even today we exchange e-mail at least for the main recurrences. Now Claudio works at the National Library of Turin, and lives with his lover, a Greek boy named Nikos that he has met in Turin. They are together for seven years and it seems they get on love and harmony.
I never met Nikos, I just saw some of his photos that Claudio has sent me by e-mail: he seems a nice boy, has a beautiful smile. I never met him because life took me elsewhere, first to Milan for the duration of university studies, then in various parts of the world...
The fact that even before graduation, I was able to speak French, English and Spanish, almost like Italian, opened many doors to me and allowed me to have good working positions both in Italy and abroad.