Date: Mon, 09 Jan 2006 14:47:42 +0100 From: A.K. Subject: The Odd Couple 03/14 (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 3 - The kiss It was eleven p.m. Stefano looked at the sated boy lying next to him. Maurizio smiled back. "Another beer?" the man offered. "Thanks." the youth said, rising to sit on the mattress. "You feel better?" Stefano asked. "Yeah, a lot better." "And the bruises?" "You're a good healer. They don' hardly hurt no more - only when I move." Stefano looked at the boy's body, but then looked away so as not to be too captivated. "I could call you a taxi so you can go back home." he offered. "I don't feel like goin' home. Fridays and Saturdays, I never go back home. I sleep in Renato's garage - after a good fuck." "You can give the taxi your friend's address." "No, that'd just piss him off now." "Well, you are welcome to sleep here, but there is just this one bed..." "Then I'd jus' bother you. Shit, maybe I sh'd go home." "As you wish. Unfortunately I don't have two beds." "I know. I brought up your furniture." Maurizio said quietly, then continued, "I always slept with my brother, th' youngest one, in my bed. And it was smaller th'n this one." "Yes, I slept with Carlo in this bed..." the man said sadly. The youth put his arm around Stefano's shoulders. "It really hurts ya t' remember him. I c'n see that." he affirmed. "Yes, very much." "Then I'll stay here tonight. Ya won't feel s' lonely." "As you wish. Let's unpack the sheets and make up the bed. Can you sit on the chair, meanwhile?" "I c'n help you. We c'd do it faster 'n' better together." "But if you move, it hurts..." "I c'n take it." He got out of bed barefoot, onto the polished brick flooring. "It will be better if you cover up. It's chilly in here." "Nah, I'm okay. I'd jus' have t' undress again." "Do you sleep naked?" "At home I can't. At the garage, I always do. You?" "When I was with Carlo." "Don't think of him now." "That isn't so easy..." Stefano opened some boxes and pulled out the pillows and the bed linen. Then they made up the bed. Maurizio slipped in immediately, laying on one side to leave room for Stefano. He didn't think to ask his host where he preferred to sleep; he had never had to think about that problem before. Stefano undressed, feeling warm and grateful for the boy's presence - simple, clean, naive. Naked, he joined Maurizio under the blankets. They lay on their backs, their arms touching at the elbow. "Ya never been with a woman?" the boy asked. "Three times: when I was fifteen, seventeen, and the last at eighteen." "An' that's all?" "That's all." "It didn' do anything for ya?" "Some, but never so much as with boys." "I see. I never, uh, tried it with boys before. You're th' first man I, uh, ever had sex with." "Never? Not even to jerk off with other boys?" "No, never. Well, okay, yeah. But with each jerkin' his self. Like at times with Renato. "And when you were in the army?" "I wasn't called. I'm th' oldest sonuva widowed mother, so I'm th' only support for th' family - that kind o' shit. I missed it a little. My brothers, they went into th' army." "And so you fuck minors..." "You think it's wrong that Renato and I like doin' it with minors, right?" "With minors, I think it is. But it's just my opinion - and, it's also the law." "You... they say that fag... that gays do it with little boys, in exchange for a gift." "I've never done that. I think it is wrong. I would never do it with a minor. I need to be able to understand what someone wants." Maurizio chuckled. "Th' girls - they sure know what they want - a nice hard cock t' be pistoned by or t' suck! They might not be as good as you are, but they act like they're starving. Tell me, though, why d' ya think it's wrong with a minor, besides bein' against th' law?" he asked as though he really wanted to understand. "It's, well, complicated. A minor doesn't have the wisdom to choose what's right from what's wrong, what's dangerous or safe, what's good or evil. Do you think your sister was right to make love so young?" "Well, they were both jus' kids..." "What would you think if Renato or someone like him fucked your sister when she was sixteen and then passed her on to his friends?" Maurizio looked at him in amazement, than said, "Hell, no... For sure, no!" "So, why do you do that with other boys' sisters?" "I... I never thought about it that way. Renato, he says it's okay..." "Is Renato always right?" "I think so." "And according to Renato, is it right for a boy to be in bed with a man, getting head from him?" Maurizio chuckled. "Hell, no! He hates fa... gays. Once one tried to do it with him, and he beat th' shit outa him." "But here you are with me, and you didn't beat me..." "Beat you? That's crazy! You're different. You're all right." "But I'm gay, right?" "Yeah, but you didn't come on to me. I asked you..." "Well, if I'd come on to you, would you have beaten me then?" "Maybe... If I didn't know you, I probably would've. But now... You can try it with me whenever you want, no problems - promise!" The elementary logic of the youth enchanted the man. But he said, "Listen, Maurizio, you're a good kid. I know you like sex; we all do. But sex has to be an exchange, not just one-sided. It's especially one-sided with a minor. Besides that, you risk going to jail because of your circle of underage girls. Is it worth it? Think about it, Maurizio, is it really worth it? For one thing, a guy as young and handsome as you would have a bad time in jail. You'd become everybody's punk in there. Is it worth all that pain just to amuse yourself? I can be gay, or fag, queer, pervert, homo, as you like to say. But what I do isn't against the law. I don't ensnare or seduce children. And I'm sad that a good, clean kid like you would do that." "You're... sad?" Maurizio asked, astounded. "Of course I am, now that I know you. I would hate to read in the newspaper some day that you've been arrested and would have to pay for this rash behavior. Listen; look for a girl your own age. She wouldn't have to be too old, just eighteen." "But Renato always looks for th' kids - sometimes even fourteen if they got nice tits..." "Maurizio, you're really handsome, much more so than your friend. Many eighteen- year-old girls would be glad to do it with you!" "Yeah... that could be. But Renato, he knows what t' say t' girls, how t' hook 'em. I don't." "You don't need him. You don't need him to pass his girls to you after he fucks them. You can have your own choice. But don't do it with minors, Maurizio!" Maurizio murmured thoughtfully, "Sometimes ya do things jus' because ya think there ain't no other choice." Then he asked, "You think I'm a prick 'cuz I fuck kids?" "No, Maurizio, I feel sorry for you." Maurizio thought about all of this for a while, knitting his brows. "What you're sayin'... I never seen it that way, but it kinda makes sense. But before my old man died, he said to me, 'Enjoy life, Mauri. Take all you can in life and enjoy it'." "Yes, but not something that's wrong. A man has to be able to choose, don't you think? What your father said, would that mean you could steal?" "No, not that, of course. He wouldn't have said that. But you're th' first one ever t' say this t' me. I gotta think about it. You might be right," he said, and was quiet. Then, "You felt okay with your man?" "Very much." "Twenty years... no problems?" "Well sure, we had some problems, but we got over them." "Did you ever beat each other?" "What? No, never ever!" "Pa 'n' Mum did. But then they'd make up." "Were you beaten?" Maurizio chuckled. "Yeah, a lot! But just by Pa. Mum never did. When he was drunk, he'd beat the shit outa me for some bullshit thing. When he was sober, he wouldn't beat me even if I'd done somethin' wrong. So when he thrashed me for no reason, I'd think I was gettin' it for th' other times..." "Did you love your father?" "Of course. Mum, too. Only when they quarreled did I feel really bad. I used t' think it woulda been better if they'd thrashed me instead o' each other. But after a fight, it was always Mum who'd comfort Pa when he was cryin'. Yeah, 'cause first he'd beat mum, but then he'd cry 'cause he was sorry. So Mum would take him and wrap him all..." "How did she wrap him? With blankets?" Stefano asked in surprise. "No, not that!" Maurizio chuckled. "She'd do it like this, look..." he said. The boy uncovered himself then spread his arms and legs. "Here, get on top of me... like so..." he said and embraced Stefano, holding him lightly with his arms, and legs and cuddling him. "She would do this and whisper to him: my man... my man... and stroke his hair... that way..." Stefano could feel himself becoming aroused, and he felt the boy under him swelling, as well. He gently freed himself and lying again on his side, covered himself with the blankets. Maurizio was serene. "How'd you meet your man?" "I was twenty five and he was twenty seven. I was in a gallery looking at a painting when I saw him..." "Wuz he handsome?" "So beautiful..." "So ya spoke t' him." "No, I didn't dare." "Yeah, I understand. I'm that way with girls, too. I c'd have a hard-on, but if they don't take th' first step... So what did he say t' ya?" "Nothing, at first. But I could see him looking at me in the reflection of the painting's glass cover. And when I moved to another painting, he would move, too. For three more times we moved together, and in the end we were not looking at the paintings, but at each other's reflections. The third painting showed a naked boy, the work of a classical artist." "Buck naked? Could you see, um, everything?" "No. It was a youth sitting on a shore, embracing his legs, with his forehead on his knees. And then Carlo said to me, 'Beautiful isn't it?'" "Wuz it beautiful?" asked Maurizio. "Oh, yes. It could have been a picture of you." Maurizio nodded quietly as Stefano continued. "I answered, 'Yes, really beautiful.' And he said he had a problem. I was surprised and asked him what it was. He smiled at me and said, 'I would ask you home for a beer. And if you accept, I'll try to make love with you. But perhaps you won't. So, what do you say? Should I invite you or not?'" "No shit! He said that? He propositioned you that way, right out in public?" "Nobody could hear us..." "So whadja say?" "That I couldn't resist such a kind invitation from so beautiful a man." "And you went t' his house?" "Yes." "And had sex with him." "Sure." "And then what happened after that?" "We saw each other for three years and fell in love. But his parents caught us once, and then tried every way they could to split us up. So we decided to move and we went together to Bologna. I found work in a high school. He opened a massage parlor. And we lived together. For twenty years." "Like husband and wife, no, I mean... as a married couple." "Yes." "But now you're alone. That's why you left Bologna 'n' came back here." "Right. Bologna has too many memories." "It hurts ya t' talk about it?" "Yes." "Would ya like t' talk about somethin' else?" "Yes." "Okay. What'll we talk about now?" "Perhaps what you want for breakfast tomorrow?" "Whatever you have." Maurizio said, and under the blankets reached for Stefano's hand and held it between his own. "Why are you holding my hand?" the man asked softly. "To, um, hear... I would like... I want you to feel that... I want you to be happy and not so... so sad. I think." Maurizio murmured in confusion. Then continued, apparently changing subject. "Once," he said and closed his eyes, "my father kissed me. He must've really been drunk. A little before he died. It was th' only time he ever did that... I'm... sorry t' say." he gulped, choking back a sob. "I never told anybody about it, except you." Stefano smiled and shook his head in compassion. He struggled only a little before leaning over the boy, and slowly, lightly kissing him on the forehead. Immediately Maurizio embraced Stefano and held the man against him. He opened his eyes and murmured in a quivery voice, "It's like my old man did that time... I like it. But he kissed me on my lips, well, almost..." Stefano, now ablaze with desire, his throat tight, held the boy's face in his hands and kissed him fully on the mouth - lightly at first, and then with the thirst of one lost in a desert. Maurizio returned his kiss. Stefano could feel the boy grow rigid under him as he kissed Maurizio again and again, now all over his body, pleasuring that splendid young man for a third time that day. And as he thus dedicated himself, he silently cried out all his sorrow, all his loneliness, all his desperation. ----------------------------- CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 4 ----------------------------- 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 ---------------------------