Date: Wed, 17 Feb 2021 20:19:15 +0000 (UTC) From: ropingtop@aol.com Subject: BDSM Italian American Style - installment 1 DISCLAIMER: Any relationship any of the characters in this story have to any living person is completely coincidental. No implications whatsoever are made about anyone who may be suggested by this story. Salvatore ("Sal") and Christofero ("Chris") grew up in the same neighborhood. Their mothers went to Catholic school together, and then to the local Catholic commercial high school. Philomena ("Pindy") Rosso, and Evelina ("Evie") Messina became good friends. After high school, they both got jobs at the local food importing company , where they both met their husbands: Salvatore Sr., and Francesco. It was a time when people didn't leave the blue collar neighborhood, and when women quit their jobs when they married. Pindy and Evie did just that, and settled down to become homemakers and mothers. Pindy had four children, Evie, three. Sal and Chris were their oldest sons (they both had two). Since the mothers were such good friends, the families spent a lot of time together: Sunday dinner at the Rossos one week, at the Messinas the next. There would always be good natured arguing over who's gravy was best, who's salad was fresher, who's house was cleaner. And at every dinner, Sal and Chris would sneak away to play their own games: Batman, Wild West, Laredo, anything the boys had watched on television that week. They attended the same Catholic school: the boys' section of the school their mothers attended. Sal was much more interested in schoolwork than Chris, and he was regarded by his classmates as "the bookworm" "the brain," or what we would call today "the geek" or "the nerd." Schoolwork bored Chris, and he would be the first one out of the classroom when the dismissal bell rang. Still, he always waited for Sal, since Sal almost always had a question for the teacher, or wanted to know something about the next book he should read. "All that learning. It's gonna make your brain explode" Chris would tease, as he'd reach up and put his arm around Sal's shoulders. Sal was 3 inches taller than Chris, a fact that he never let him forget as the years went by. They'd do their homework together - sometimes, Sal would do both sets of homework - and then they'd hang out: maybe a soda, maybe one on one basketball, sometimes wrestling. Chris was the smaller one, but he was stronger: he had a part time job on the weekends, doing construction, and he liked it. It gave him spending money which he was free to share with Sal, usually buying the sodas, or ice cream, or whatever they shared. He loved that Sal would come and meet him at his job site: Chris, covered with dust and crud from construction, and Sal standing there in his "wife beater" , his baggy pants, and his suspenders: the suspenders that would, someday, become his trademark. Chris' job was essentially menial work, but it got more involved once they entered high school. Chris went to the same commercial school as did his mom, but Sal would take the subway every day to go into "The City." His grades had been so high that the principal urged him to apply to academic schools. He did, and got in. "You got the tuition, sweetie? How we gonna pay?" Pindy would ask him. Sal thought she was serious, and at one point, gave up hope of ever going. One night, when he was lying on the floor of the living room, reading a book, his dad came in. "Sallie. Andiamo. Let's go into the kitchen. Your mom and I wanna talk to you." They were going to pay for his tuition, but on ONE condition. He had to get some kind of job on the weekends. They didn't care what, and they didn't care what it paid, but he had to make a contribution. His first thought was to go to Chris. "WHAAAA? You wanna work with us GOONS? Not happening Caro. You're better than us. Get a better job . Let's go visit the library. Maybe Miss Maloney has something for you." Miss. Maloney had worked at the library for in excess of 40 years. She had been the librarian when Pindy and Evie had gone to school. Now, she saw their sons. Or, she saw Sal way more than she saw Chris. Still, she had a thing for Chris: all the women did. He had muscles from his work in construction and a smile that could melt ice cream. He had dark, wavy hair that would make you think of a matinee idol, and he had a way with words that Sal didn't. She liked Sal just fine: she loved finding new books for him, but when she went home, and thought "what if" and her imagination went to marriage, it wasn't Sal she thought of: it was Chris. She wasn't the only one. "HEY Signorina Maloney. Che cosa fai?" Chris used the familiar tense, something Sal would never have done, and Miss Maloney blushed. "Why, Christofero, what a surprise. We don't see you around here that often. " She looked at Sal. "Salvatore, are you trying to get your friend to study more?" "Ha ha. Good one Miss Maloney. Comedy suits you. I was actually thinking, Sal here - he could study more if he had a job at the library. You have anything that he could do?" Miss Maloney thought for a minute: if Sal had come in on his own, she would have turned him down because, truly, she didn't have a position available. But this was Chris asking, and she knew - as did Chris - that she couldn't say No to him. "Why , as a matter of fact I do. Salvatore, it's not much of a job: it's cleaning up the books and getting them back on the shelves, helping me out behind the desk when things get busy, odd jobs like that. Doesn't pay more than minimum wage, but I can use you on Saturdays, and probably a few days during the week. " "Grazie Miss Maloney. I look forward to working with you." Sal held out his hand to shake hers, and when she gave it to him, he kissed it. She giggled. As his head bowed, she could see the start of the bald spot which, eventually, would leave Sal prematurely bald. He got the job, and he got to go to Academic High School in "The City." Four years go by in a flash. Sal excelled at high school and, being a blue collar kid, from an "ethnic" background got him a scholarship to a university far from home. The scholarship didn't cover everything, and he'd have to get help from home. "Absolutely not , Sal. The local college is just fine for folks like us," is what his father told him. "You'll do fine there." Sal was broken hearted. He had set his heart on the university. The night of the afternoon his father told him no, he was hanging out with Chris, when he just put his head into his hands and started to cry. Chris pulled him closer. "HEY. Why you crying? If you went to that fancy schmancy school, you'd probably forget about guys like me. You don't wanna do that, do you ? Going local, we can hang out, anytime we want." Chris was staring right into his face, smiling, his incredibly blue eyes flashing. It was that moment that Sal realized that he had a crush on Chris. A BIG one. Chris had said the one thing that could have made him want to stay: they could hang out and be together. He smiled, as Chris pulled a filthy hanky out of his jeans, and dabbed Sal's eyes. "Fratelli del cuore, brothers of the heart, right Sal?" Sal punched Chris on the shoulder and they began to wrestle , laughing all the while. The years hadn't changed anything. Chris had Sal pinned in minutes and he stared at him. "Promise you're not gonna leave me?" "I promise Chris." "Promise you won't find another bud ?" "I promise. Brothers forever." "Ha ha. THAT's MY MAN. That's my fratellino." Chris was four months older than Sal, so he always called him his little brother. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Halfway through college, Sal realized that his talents were not so much in academics, but design. He'd be bored to death in calculus, or English, and he'd start drawing. He drew clothes mostly, and those clothes were mostly gowns. Women's gowns. He had talent, but no training. One day, he saw something in a magazine, about a scholarship to the design academy. Each applicant had to submit five designs: they had to mix men's and women's fashions. Sal got to work right away. He would cut class, and sit in the nearby park, and draw. He had no trouble designing the men's clothes. He imagined Chris, and how he'd dress him. He designed a dress suit and then a casual outfit. For the gowns, he thought of his two sisters and his mother. No one was more surprised than Sal when he won. "CHRIS. CHRIS..." He went screaming to the new construction site where Chris was working. "I GOT THE SCHOLARSHIP HO VINTO HO VINTO. I WON I WON !!!!" Chris threw his arms around him "COMPLIMENTI FRATELLINO. I'm so proud of you. I'm so proud of you I got you filthy. LOOK AT YOU NOW. What's your mom gonna say? Especially when she finds out you told me before her?" "I'll show her the gown I designed for her. That'll do the trick." "You're gonna go of course?" "I hope so. OH, CHRIS. I want this so bad." "Then go and get it. Learn something from big brother, Sal: go after what you want. I plan to do that." "You do? What's going on? "Tranquillo, caro. Patience dear. I'll let you know when I know." When he got home that day, Pindy took one look at him and wanted to know how he got so filthy. "Mama. MAMA. I went to see Chris because.. I WON A SCHOLARSHIP" "Another one, Mamma Mia. Scholarships will send us to the poorhouse." "No Mama. This is different. This is... well, this is design school. LOOK. Look at my designs." She looked. She recognized herself in the pictures, and her daughters. She recognized Chris too. "Oh, bello. These are amazing. YOU drew them? REALLY?" "I did Mama. I did." She was silent for a minute. "You could make that dress for me?" "I could make all three dresses for you and Gina and Lucy. " He smiled. "If I had a sewing machine." Pindy put her hands on her hips. "I KNEW this was gonna cost me money. Tell ya what. I'm gonna talk to your father. It's gonna take some convincing, but maybe we can get you a machine for your birthday. But Sal... do me a favor. DON'T show him the pictures of Chris." "Ok Mama. But why not?" "She took a breath. Baby, you know who designs clothes? Homos. So there's a hard sell right there. And you didn't design for your father. He's gonna be insulted. But he'll never check if he doesn't see them. So, let me take these three. You take the pictures of Chris. Let me talk to him tonight." "GRAZIE MAMA. GRAZIE! " He hugged her until she began to choke from the hug and the dust. Two weeks later, a large box arrived for Sal. It was his birthday present. A singer sewing machine. "We'll shop for fabric tomorrow, figlio. You're gonna keep your promise." xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Two weeks later, the doorbell rang while the Rossos were eating dinner. Pop went to the door. "HEY CHRISTO. COSA?" Sometimes, Sal's father, who was a loading dock supervisor, now, thought he liked Chris more than Sal. "Hi Mr. Rosso. I wonder if I could speak to Sal? I've got some good news." "Well, Christopher, good news is better if it's shared. Come on in and tell us all. " He whispered "wipe your feet. Mrs. Rosso'll throw a fit if I let you in with dirty soles. "I'll take them off." He put his sneakers in the corner. "HI CHRIS." Lucy almost swooned. Chris had a tight fitting dark blue sweatshirt on over his wife beater, and a baseball jacket. Sal almost did too. "HEY Fratellone. What brings you here?" "Well, I got this letter bud, and since you're so good at reading, I thought you could read it out loud." "Ok. " Sal cleared the piece of Italian bread from his mouth. "Dear Mr. Messina. The New York Police Department is pleased to offer you a place in our Academy class for the year. Please let us know by returning the enclosed card by October 1." Sal looked up. "This was the surprise you told me about a few weeks ago." Chris shook his head, smiling. "UH HUH. UH HUH." "YOU'RE GONNA BE A POLICE OFFICER? OH MY GOD. COMPLIMENTI BRAVO. OH Christofero, I gotta call your mom." "NO MRS ROSSO PLEASE DON'T. I was the first one Sal told, and I wanted to return the favor. I'll tell her when I go home. Sal came over. He knew it was a risk, but he threw his arms around Chris. "I'm so happy for you fratello. SO DAMN HAPPY." "See what I told ya, Sal? We were meant to be together, and we will be." xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Again, years go by in an instant, and so it was. Sal lost more of his hair, and eventually decided to stop fighting it, and had the barber shave him bald. He graduated from design school, got a job at a fashion house about an hour from home, and took a small apartment, not far from the neighborhood. Between his sewing machine, his design mannequin, his furniture and his weights - Sal was trying to work out at home since he couldn't afford a gym yet - the apartment was cramped. He couldn't entertain, which was a good thing because, well, Sal knew by this point that he liked men, but he really only liked ONE man - Chris. They had hung out when they could while they were both in school, and his crush became much more than that. He was in love with Chris, and he couldn't say it. Chris had finished with the academy too. He had been assigned a post in a local precinct. That's why he showed up at Sal's door that night, in full uniform . When Sal opened the door, Chris yelled. "POLICE. UP AGAINST THE WALL AND SPREAD EM." "Is this really happening? Sal thought? He did just that and Chris laughed. "KNOCK IT OFF SAL. You'd make a good perp though. "Chris, I got no food, but, can I pour you a grappa?" The espresso's probably gonna bite you back, but you an mix it. "Grappa straight up, stud. This is a celebration." "He just called me stud," Sal thought. He just called me stud. " He was in his usual outfit: the wife beater, the suspenders, and jeans. Old comfortable ones. He had been working. "You look good in the uniform, Chris. You really do. It's just... isn't it a little baggy." "I know, right? Hides all the muscles. That's how they cut them though." "Are you allowed to alter them, Chris? " "I guess. No one said we couldn't. "How about you get down to skivs. Lemme get to work. " "Nah. I can't let you do that." "CHRIS. If your best bud can't run a quick stitch and take in that shirt and those pants, what kind of person am I? Take me five minutes. And I've seen you in less than that." He had. More than Chris knew. "Ok. Why not? Why deprive the world of all this... MANLINESS? " He began taking off his shirt. "Why indeed?" Sal smiled. He sat down with the shirt. His hands were shaking. He could smell Chris' after shave (Old Spice), and he could see where his pits had sweated through the new shirt. "I could put a liner in the pits too if you want." "YEAH. Make me look like fancy pants with the other guys." It WAS an easy job, and Sal was finished in a few minutes. He turned to the pants. "You know, this is gonna take longer. I don't wanna keep you from your business, so if you wanna bring everything back this weekend I'll do it then. " "YOU SURE?" "OF COURSE I'M SURE. Gotta do it before Sunday dinner at home, but it'll be easy. And it'll be fun to see you as if we were cutting Sunday mass again." Chris began to laugh. "You remember when we used to do that? What was the rule? No sin if we stayed until after the sermon." "Yeah, and when Logato was preaching. ..." "Oh shit... we could be there until Monday night." They were laughing like old friends. Maybe it was the grappa. Maybe it was Chris' scent. Maybe it was holding his clothes. Who knew? Sal certainly didn't, as he thought about it afterward. He handed Chris his shirt, and after Chris had it buttoned, Sal came up from behind, and kissed him on the ear. Chris whirled around in a second. "WHOA. WHOA. WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?" Sal blanched white. He had just lost his best friend, and was probably about to get a beating, just to kiss him on the ear. "I'm sorry Chris. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I ... I must be a little drunk and... and I missed you and...." "Do it again Sal. Only do it right this time." Chris came up to him and pointed his face up to Sal's. Sal kissed him. "NO. DO IT RIGHT. PUSH MY LIPS OPENED BUD" Sal did. "Now gimme your tongue," Chris whispered. "MMMMM. MMMMMM. " They kissed for ten minutes. "How long have you been wanting to do that Sal?" "Since high school." He blushed. Chris blushed too. "Same with me. I was waiting for when you were gonna make your move." "You were waiting for ME?" "Uh huh. I wanted you so bad Sal. SO FUCKING BAD. And I was so happy when you didn't go away to school. I figured... something could happen. And when it didn't, I thought "oh well, he found someone else. I waited too long. I thought you were too good for me." "Too good for you? ME? Chris, you're probably the reason I'm still alive. Let me show you something." Sal went over to a pile of papers. "I kept these. They were part of my application to design school." Chris looked at them, while Sal put his hand on Chris' shoulder. "That's me, isn't it?" "Sure is." "I dunno about the suit, but the other outfit.. you gonna make it for me?" Sal laughed. "Probably need more material these days." "YOU FUCK." He pulled Sal into a headlock and then pulled him down on the floor. I oughta tickle the shit outta you, but no. No. I want more of this." While they were kissing, Chris rolled Sal on top of him. "OH SHIT. That feels better than I thought it would. " Sal didn't realize it, but he had begun to grind against Chris. "Yeah baby. Keep doing it. Come on. Shoot that load. Shoot that fucking big pepperoni for brother Chris. DO IT." Sal would have to do laundry the next day. "You can't shoot on your uniform Chris. Let me get you a cloth. " By the time he got back, it was too late. Chris smiled . "Couldn't help myself. I held that load for more than ten years. I got more uniform pants at home. "You bring them this weekend. I'm gonna fix them all so they show off your hot ass." Chris smiled. "Nothing could do that work of art justice." "I'll do the best I can." Chris was getting up to leave. "To be continued?" He looked at Sal. "You bet."