Date: Thu, 02 Feb 2006 09:02:39 +0100 From: A.K. Subject: The Odd Couple 11/14 (m+m - Beginnings) ---------------------------- THE ODD COUPLE by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2005 written on September 28th 1993 translated by the author English text kindly revised by Dave ----------------------------- USUAL DISCLAIMER "THE ODD COUPLE" 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 11 - Attempt Stefano kept asking himself if he had done right to say yes to sex with Maurizio. For sure, he himself wanted it badly - just once or twice - what harm could that do? He was feeling strong enough to avoid getting into an impossible relationship with the boy. They found the bungalow easily - a low, one-story building on the lakeshore, surrounded by trees - simple but nice - two bedrooms with king-size beds, one looking out on the lake. The ample living room also faced the lake and had a fireplace. Just off the living room was a drawing room with a TV set. At the rear of the cottage were a wide kitchen and the bathroom with an over-sized tub and shower stall. Pigg" had explained to Stefano how the central heating system worked and now the man fussed with it until he got it started. "It should warm up in a couple of hours. For now, we should keep our coats on," Stefano said as he sat in a soft armchair in the drawing room. "Okay, sure," Maurizio answered from the kitchen where he was inspecting. He returned to the drawing room. "Should I put your suitcase in th' lake room or th' other'n?" "In the other one," Stefano answered, thinking that Maurizio would enjoy looking at the lake before falling asleep or when waking up. "Good. Then I'll take th' one by th' lake." Stefano was pleased to hear that the boy didn't intend to install himself in his bed - he kept to their agreement. That night they would share the same bed, sure, but the boy respected what they had agreed. After placing the suitcases, Maurizio returned. "I'll make a fast tour o' th' village t' buy sm supplies, and then be right back. It'll be better if ya don' go outside, so as not t' catch cold." "All right." Stefano answered. Maurizio was being protective of him and this pleased Stefano. His bodyguard, he thought, feeling an agreeable warmth in himself. In about an hour Maurizio returned and fixed lunch, which they ate in the kitchen. Then the boy said, "I'll wash all th' dishes together after supper. Let's go into th' living room. I saw some wood outside for th' fireplace. I'd like t' light a fire, but I never done that. Do y' know how?" "Sure. I'll teach you." Maurizio smiled happily, like an excited child learning a new game. He went out to split the wood and after a while came back with a basket filled with sticks. Stefano laid the fire showing the boy how to set the wood. He crumpled sheets of newspaper into pellets and on the first try a fire flared up in the fireplace. The draft was good. Maurizio sat beside the man, fascinated by the flames. "It's great, isn't it?" Stefano asked touching the boy's arm. "Fucking shit, it is! Really great! All houses should have fireplaces." Maurizio concluded in a dreamlike voice, the reflection of the flames dancing in his eyes. Then he turned towards Stefano, put his hands on the man's shoulders and looked luminously into the man's eyes. "I love you, Stefano. There, I said it! I love you Stefano. Yeah, I really love you!" and kissed him softly on his lips, with an excited, little-boy air. Stefano didn't object. Instead he asked himself, "Just what do you love, Maurizio - me or your happiness?" Then he answered himself, "His happiness of this moment. New, beautiful experiences he never had in his childhood. Let him enjoy them and deceive himself, thinking that he loves me. Sooner or later he will understand this as well." Maurizio was again gazing at the flames. "When it gets dark, it'll be even more beautiful." he murmured. "We'll let it burn until bed time." Stefano replied condescending. "Good Lord! I feel wonderful here - th' fire, being near you, on holiday. God, all this is so good. This is a real holiday - and tonight - at last, once again with you. Renato couldn't even guess that life could be s' wonderful!" Stefano felt some irritation on hearing Renato's name. He wondered if this was not jealousy. No, it was just distaste. Renato was Maurizio's bad conscience. But he, Stefano - was he then perhaps Maurizio's good conscience? He shook his head as if to chase away these reflections. "I'd like t' stay here with ya forever..." Maurizio murmured settling himself more comfortably, relaxed and serene. When they decided go to bed and went into the bedroom, Maurizio noticed an electric wire coming from the bed. "What's that?" he asked, half-worried and half-amazed. "The electric blanket." "What? Electric? What for? Isn't it dangerous?" "No, it just keeps the bed slightly warm. In winter it's more comfortable." "Fucking hell, they really think of everythin'. It must be good, then..." " You'll experience it in a little while." Stefano said with a smile. Maurizio really was like a child - simple things could still amaze him. And Stefano felt again as though he was tiptoeing through a treacherous minefield. But it was so terribly fascinating. Was he being crazy to venture into this strange territory; was he foolhardy? What would he find? Would it be worthwhile? "Why are ya lookin' at me like that?" asked Maurizio, looking up at Stefano with a questioning glance from where he had stooped to pull off his shoes. "What's th' matter?" "Nothing, Maurizio." Stefano answered as he started to undress. "How was I looking at you?" "I don' know. You made me feel... well... like I was doing somethin' wrong," the boy answered hesitantly. "No, that's just your imagination, Maurizio. Everything's okay." "Sh'd I sleep in th' other room? Did ya change your mind?" "No!" the man answered so suddenly that he amazed himself, "No... I want you here with me, at least for tonight." Maurizio smiled serenely and continued to undress. Stefano admired the boy's beautiful form that gradually emerged and felt frissons of anticipation and pleasure shoot through his skin. That boy was truly beautiful, like a statue of a Grecian athlete. So manly, so virile, and yes so sweet. Soon he would caress that silky skin, his muscles both hard as steel and at the same time soft and flexible, darting and tender... God, how he loved that body! They climbed almost as one onto the bed and sat near each other. "Lie down, Maurizio..." the man said gently pushing the boy by his shoulders. The boy let himself lie back, but seized Stefano by the arms pulling the man on top of him, then took his face between his hands and kissed him on the mouth deep and long. Then Stefano gently freed himself from the boy's hold and lowered himself to kiss and lick his neck and chest, suckling the broad, dark nipples with their hard little teats. Maurizio started to caress Stefano's back and sides as the man slowly went down, happy to feel that wonderful body quivering under him, responding to every touch, happy to hear him moan with such intense pleasure. Yes, for once he could renounce even his own pleasure so as to give to that perfect body that was offering itself to him, hot and shuddering. At last he reached the boy's erect organ. The man took it in his hands, fragile and precious, and bent down to take it gently between his lips. He lowered his head to let it slip slowly and completely to the back of his throat, skillfully whirling his tongue around the imprisoned column of firm flesh, gently fingering the full testicles, filling his nostrils with the sweet musky scent of the boy's groin. Maurizio sat up and resumed caressing the man's back and sides, while the other hand roamed his chest, lingering to tease the nipples then going down to his penis. At first he caressed it almost shyly, then more assuredly, and finally took it with his full hand and started to masturbate Stefano. The boy leaned against the man's body and his warm and sweet lips went to his back, and kissed him. Stefano quivered. It was the first time that the boy didn't remain almost completely inert to let the man service him. So, Stefano devoted himself to the boy with all his energy, all his art, all his lust. As Maurizio reached the point of no return, he tensed his whole body in an effort to hold off his orgasm, to prolong those last beautiful moments, so intense, so upsetting. But he struggled in vain. His lengthy abstinence from sex had charged him too much to be able now to restrain himself any more, so he unloaded into Stefano's mouth with a long moan of pleasure, shuddering, seized by his strong orgasm. And Stefano, soon after, came into the boy's hand. When they lay down on the warm mattress, sated and exhausted, Maurizio reached for his briefs, which he used to wipe the man's seed from his chest. Then he sniffed the underwear, looking thoughtful. Stefano observed these maneuvers silently. Maurizio, dropping the garment to the floor, turned towards the man. "It smells odd." "Good? Bad?" "No, just odd." "Different from yours?" "I don' know. I never tried t' smell mine. But every body has its own smell, so..." Stefano caressed the boy's arm. Maurizio curled against him. "Good night, Maurizio." "May I sleep here, just tonight?" "Yes, it's all right." "Afterwards... it is hard to leave and stay alone. It happened like that with the girls who got dressed right away and nearly ran away. I like to feel your warmth afterwards. Don't you?" "I like it too. But now let's sleep..." "Okay..." Stefano felt the boy slip into sleep in a few minutes - quiet, sated, serene. Stefano looked at him with a mixture of tenderness and detachment - so close and yet so alien. So absurd... But suddenly a thought occurred to him. "Who do you presume to be, to judge this boy? Today he touched you, tried to give you some pleasure, how he was able to... how could he..." The next day, after spending a serene day with Maurizio, when the boy bid him goodnight with a light of hope in his eyes, Stefano pretended not to understand the boy's silent prayer. Maurizio gave him a light kiss then went into his room and closed the door. The man felt at once slightly guilty, but also much relieved. "It's strange" he thought, "this contrast of feelings." He slipped into his bed and thought it was too wide, too empty... And he thought that possibly in the other room Maurizio was experiencing the same feelings. Yes, because these were almost primeval emotions, not complex ones. Maurizio lived not with complex emotions, but simple ones. He was not a refined, civilized man, a man of our times as Stefano was. He could have led this exact same life one hundred, two hundred, five hundred years earlier, even more. Thus thought Stefano as he fell asleep in his warm bed, whose warmth came not from a desired body, but rather from a simple electric device. And slipping into sleep, he thought that it was weird that he was comparing the civilized warmth of a modern device to the primitive warmth of a body - animal or machine? he asked himself in confusion, and slept. The next morning he woke up slightly dazed. Instinctively he felt for a body next to him, then remembered that he himself didn't want it to be near him. But how could he accept a so perfect body, with a soul so... So, how? He asked himself. What did he know about the soul of that boy? He felt confused, really confused. He went to the bathroom and he was about to close the door behind him when he heard Maurizio cry, "Wait!" He opened the door to the boy - his hair ruffled, eyes still sleepy, radiant in his complete nakedness. Maurizio asked him, "Do ya feel like taking a bath with me, in that huge tub?" "But just a bath, understand?" Stefano answered, with the air of someone admonishing a child to behave. Maurizio smiled and answered gently, with a hint of sincere amazement, "Do ya always think about that?" Stefano felt that he had blundered. "No... I think it's rather you who think of that." "Why, if I was thinking that, I'd just say it." Maurizio answered with an obvious tone as he came into the bathroom with Stefano. "Oh, really? And what would you have said, in that case?" "I'd just ask ya if ya want t' have sex with me in th' tub, wouldn' I?" Stefano nodded and thought he deserved the boy's rebuke. They slipped into the wide tub of warm water. Maurizio seemed as happy as a kid. Stefano almost felt ashamed when he noticed that he had gotten a hard-on, but Maurizio had not. The boy, even if he had noticed it, ignored it. "Do you always think about that?" the boy had asked... Could he possibly be right? With his simplicity, the boy was more transparent than the man in all his refined complexity. The myth of Rousseau's "good savage?" Stefano asked himself. No, the good savage didn't take advantage of little girls. That day, after Maurizio made sure that Stefano was well-covered and warm, they took a mid-afternoon walk in the frozen wood bordering the lake. The luminous winter sun melted the icicles that festooned the tree branches. Maurizio looked around, fascinated. He took a big icicle and licked it like a lollipop. He chatted merrily of the thousand small details he was noticing. Stefano had brought his camera so they shot pictures of each other. "If we would just meet somebody, we could have a shot taken together." The boy said suddenly. But they didn't meet a living soul. They returned to the cottage and Maurizio lighted a fire. Stefano lay down in front of it, on the bear rug, while the boy went to fix their supper. After eating, they watched TV for a while. At one point, while they were absorbed in the revolutions of two dancers on ice, Maurizio turned towards the man. "Stefano?" "Yes?" the man answered, turning toward him. "May I tell you again? I love you, Stefano." Not trusting his voice, Stefano shrugged and lifted the palms of his hands in resignation. "Do you want to come into the other room with me?" the boy asked hopefully. "In the other room? To bed?" "No, in th' living room, on th' fur carpet. I'll put down sm cushions from th' sofa so we'll be comfortable. I have a surprise for ya. Will ya come?" he asked, putting his arm around Stefano's waist. Stefano nodded and they stood up. As they reached the living room, Stefano suddenly started to suspect what Maurizio might have in mind. A brief flash of worry, nothing more than a spark (like a spark in the fireplace) rose in his mind and he felt vaguely uneasy. But he did nothing. "Here. There are no more cushions... let's undress, now..." Maurizio, already naked, knelt in the center of the bear fur waiting for Stefano to get undressed. Then he made him lie down in front of him, towards the fire. Next, he crouched beside the man and he whispered with shining eyes, "Tonight, my Stef, I'll give you all that you've given me those other times. Is that all right?" "Maurizio," Stefano answered trying to quell the fear that gripped him, "what about when you said that you would never do anything like this as long as you live? What's different now?" He knew he must avoid what was about to happen, but his curiosity and his desire mounted together to block his reason completely. "I want ya t' be happy, tonight, as happy as I am..." the big boy answered sweetly, "... and I think this is th' way." "Is that the only reason?" Stefano asked, hoping for an answer that would not come - he knew that it could not come. "I think so." Maurizio answered honestly, "I'll make ya happy, okay Stef?" "Yes..." lied the man, hating himself for what he was allowing Maurizio to do. What if this was the start of homosexuality for the boy? No, absurd! Nobody can become homosexual, and Maurizio was for sure straight from head to toe! Kinsey would have classified him very close to the 100% heterosexual side of his table, he thought as he tried to relax. Maurizio started to caress Stefano's body and said hesitantly, "It may be that... I'm not s' good, this first time. " Stefano heard his own voice answering lightly, "One should not expect an apprentice to be an expert, Maurizio. " "Fucking hell, ya know, you're really somethin' special?" the boy whispered as he embraced the man with tender vigor and kissed him. But Stefano took no joy in what Maurizio was trying to do. First, he was highly critical of himself. He was proud that he had never initiated anybody, never pushed or lured someone into gay sex. Whenever he gave or received pleasure with a man, the partner's desire must at least equal his own. Indeed, his self-esteem relied heavily on this value. Stefano sometimes noticed that other gay people needed to deflower a virgin or take advantage of someone's lack of sexual experience. He had always seen these needs as selfish... immature... dominating... traits that he deeply despised. To him, good sex was like good food - both were to be created by artists and enjoyed by connoisseurs as devoted to the creation as the enjoyment. Stefano disliked cheap wine, badly cooked meat, unripe fruit, and reluctant partners. Yet here he was allowing Maurizio to try to please him, something he condemned in other men. And, he knew it. Second, Stefano was expert at making love to another man, and especially the use of his mouth. He knew that oral sex was one of the most difficult things to learn to do well. One needed a perfect knowledge of the penis and its magically sensitive spots that could come only with years of experience. It needed perfect control of breathing, of lips, of tongue, of the pressure and rhythm that only instinct and experience can bring. And, Stefano knew above all else that one must love the act itself to perform it with art. Maurizio had not even one of all these elements. How could the boy do anything but fail? It was absurd to let him do it. And yet he could not explain all of that to Maurizio. Even if he tried to do so, the boy would not understand... Maurizio's brain was just too simple to grasp such complexities. Stefano had once told him that it would have been good if the other was able to give back what he received; so now the boy wanted to do that. Maurizio wanted Stefano to accept him, and was doing whatever he could to achieve it. Despite all his reasoning, Stefano was beginning to respond to Maurizio's stimulation. At first, Maurizio had kissed him with some passion, some desire. But even as the boy began to lick his way down the man's body, it was obvious that he was only mechanically repeating what Stefano had done to him before. He could not understand the spirit of these moves that he had memorized by rote. To him the male body was totally alien. He moved awkwardly, not from desire, but forced - lacking the right rhythm of light or firm touch that would communicate his passion, stir an answering passion in the other so that the other would feel desired and loved. Maurizio did not love his body, his sexuality - he could only repeat the gestures he had experienced in the illusion that it was the gesture that itself had value. At last, Stefano changed his position so as to reciprocate with art and participation what the boy thought he was giving to him. Once giving and receiving overlapped, Maurizio could relax a little and the situation became less burdensome for Stefano, who managed to shorten that weird union by bringing himself and the boy to unload at the same time, one in the other's mouth, in a strangely unfeeling orgasm. But even at this peak of pleasure there was no satisfaction. Poor Maurizio's stomach was no more prepared for this climax than the rest of his body. He gagged and rushed to the bathroom, hands pressed on his mouth, face red, eyes popping out - his body nearly doubled over. Stefano heard him retch once, then again. The toilet flushed. The sink tap ran. He felt the impulse to go to assist, but told himself that it would be better to leave the boy alone. Maurizio came back into the bedroom drooping, pale, his cheeks wet with tears of shame. He crouched near the man on his heels. They looked at each other in empty silence for a few moments. "Christ, Stef... I spoiled everything... everything... I'm sorry... so sorry. " "It couldn't have worked, Maurizio," Stefano answered, now hurting and sad, though he didn't know whether it was for himself or for the boy. "But it had to work! I wanted to make you happy. " "You tried. It just didn't work. It's only logical." "But why?" "Because you are not gay." "What does that matter?" the boy murmured, then added hesitantly, hopefully, "Maybe next time it will go better. " "There will not be a next time, Maurizio." Stefano said gently taking the boy's hand and kissing it. "Why not?" "Because you hate doing it, it's obvious." "But you want me t' give ya pleasure, so I'll give it to ya!" Maurizio stated with determination, with solemn seriousness, "It won't be s' bad for me, if ya want it from me." "Thank you, Maurizio. You are really nice to say that. I think I am beginning to understand that you really do love me. " "I'd do anything for ya, you know it." "Yes, I know that now. That's why I cannot ask you, even allow you to do something that disgusts you so much. You would never ask me to do something for you I hate, right?" "But you... you need somebody t' care for your pleasure, don't ya?" Maurizio asked perplexed. Stefano felt his heart fill with tenderness for that big boy who was so near him, still upset at his failure. "I'll manage, one way or another, as I always have." Stefano answered. "But..." "But, what, Maurizio?" "I don't like it at all when ya take someone from th' pub up t' yer place. I feel hurt when you do that. I want it t' be only with me, you and me..." Maurizio murmured while new tears flew on his cheeks. "Oh, Maurizio!" Stefano said sadly, "You ask too much - both of me and of yourself." "So I'm not enough for ya? I don't deserve ya? I'm no value at all t' ya, right?" the boy moaned. "Hey, hey, hey!" Stefano whispered, "That's not true, it's just..." "You don't believe that I love ya, right? You said once that I w'd never be able t' love, right?" the boy said, desperate, his eyes filled with pain. "Yes, Maurizio, I believe you, yes. It is just that you love only the way I give you pleasure, and perhaps also my company - but not my body, my male body. You love what my mouth and my hands give you, but not the rest of me - not my cock. You are not gay, as I am, Maurizio - my sweet Maurizio. If you want my friendship, I will never deny it to you, on the contrary... But we can't have sex again; you need to know that." Maurizio exhaled a short, deep sob. Stefano pulled the boy to him and embraced him, wrapping and cuddling him, like the boy once did with him. The days of convalescence passed. Maurizio was quiet, calm, attentive as always, but there was no more joy in his eyes. Stefano felt sorry for that, but told himself that it would pass. Then the boy would go back with women - and not with girls. Of that he was sure. Then he would regain his good humor. "May I come upstairs with ya?" Maurizio asked hesitantly at his house, "And stay th' night?" "No, Maurizio. Tomorrow morning you have to go to work. Go back home now." "Can I come t' see ya, sometime?" "To the pub, any time you want. I'll always be happy to see you at the pub." ----------------------------- CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 12 ----------------------------- In my home page I've put some more 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 stories in English please e-mail at andrej@andrejkoymasky.com ---------------------------