Date: Sat, 13 Jan 2024 18:14:39 +0000 (UTC)
From: Harry Broom <harry.broom@yahoo.com>
Subject: Becoming a philospher 6       Gay/College

This is fiction and for adults. Don't read it if it is illegal to read it
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Becoming a Philosopher 6

The news from Sweden was that Sven was making good progress in Karlstad and
that he would soon return home. He was more positive, and the psychiatrist
was happy with progress. I had not heard directly from him and was keen to
speak to him.

I was in the middle of my final Philosophy I course at the time, which was
an introduction to ethics, and was probably the most popular course, as
many students from other disciplines joined as part of their course
requirements.

An advert for a person to share an apartment caught my eye as I walked past
the department noticeboard. It somehow felt like a Wonka Golden Ticket. I
tore off the bottom tag with the name Carlo and a number on it. Was this
the same Carlo that Matt and I had met on a scout camp in the Drakensberg
years ago?

I met with Carlo at the Student Union and immediately saw that this was not
the Drakensberg Carlo. There were similarities between them: they were both
Italian, had long brown hair, and brown eyes and their fathers worked for
the Italian Consulate. I found out that Carlo Rossi had met the other Carlo
a while back and that his family had since returned to Italy.

Carlo spoke good English with a strong Italian accent; he was in his second
year of architecture and was returning to Italy for Christmas. Carlo and I
connected immediately, and he offered me an incredible deal. The Italian
government paid the rent, and I would merely need to cover the utilities of
the apartment. We shook on it, and I bought him a cup of coffee and I
agreed to move in January when he returned.

I dreamt of the Drakensberg Carlo in December. The first dream was so
vivid. I had made my bed between Matt and Carlo and then we stripped naked
and spent a few moments admiring the qualities of each other's erect cocks
in the dim light. Carlo's dick was certainly the biggest and he kissed me
and Matt and told us how he had looked forward to some fun. Carlo had
fooled around in Italy with guys but hadn't done anything in South Africa
yet. He went down and sucked my cock first and then switched to Matt. He
was good at it and knew how to do it well, but I did have to get him to be
a bit quieter.

I couldn't wait to get his fat bulbous head into my mouth. He tasted good
and was oozing loads of precum. Matt had my cock in his mouth, and I was so
worked up I could have shot then. Carlo was a good kisser, and he took
turns to kiss Matt and me. Carlo organised us into a daisy chain and we all
sucked each other happily `til we came. Carlo shot off a huge load and I
swallowed it. It tasted slightly different from Matt's maybe just a little
sweeter, but most of all I enjoyed feeling his cock against my back as I
fell asleep.

On Christmas Eve I had another dream of Carlo, Matt and I in the
Drakensberg. After a tough day filled with activities, we were back in the
tent. Outside the cicada beetles hummed away under the starlight canopy. We
were all in our birthday suits and Carlo wanted us to try the poppers that
he brought with him. Matt and I were a little nervous, but we were keen to
try. My body became more sensitive to touch and I was very aware of the now
and my hearing even seemed sharper. Matt giggled as Carlo rubbed his bare
chest and stomach, and I covered his mouth to keep him quiet. Carlo moved
down my body kissing and licking parts that had never been explored before.

Carlo worked his fingers into my hole, and it felt marvellous, while Matt
sucked my nipples. It was not long before Carlo inserted his dick into my
hole. He pressed his pre-cum-lubricated cock into me. I felt my muscles
relax as he entered me, and he began to push back and forth. Matt waited a
few moments and then he guided his fat spongy and bulbous head towards
Carlos' waiting hole. Once inside, Matt gave Carlo time to adjust before
continuing. When Matt was comfortably embedded in him, we moved
together. Slowly at first, we were all making satisfying quiet noises of
pleasure and pain before we shot our loads.

Carlo Rossi called me from Verona on Christmas day to wish me Happy
Christmas and he told me that he was looking forward to sharing the
apartment with me and that he hoped that we could do some hiking around
Cape Town. I called Sven who had been discharged and was at home with his
family. He sounded happy and told me that he was taking a break from
studying for a while, the weather in Sweden was dismal, and wished he was
back in South Africa.

I picked up Carlo at the airport and drove him to the apartment, which was
close to the university in an old building. The rooms were huge, and Carlo
showed me the room I would have. It had a wonderful view towards
Stellenbosch, and I immediately knew that it would be a great space to live
in. Carlo gave me a key and told me a bit about the neighbours. He had
already stripped down to his boxers to keep cool in the unbearable heatwave
Cape Town was going through. I got a chance to look at his well-developed
body. His tousled, chestnut-brown hair framed his face adorned with warm,
expressive hazel eyes that reflected both curiosity and a zest for
life. Carlo's olive-toned skin carried the sun-kissed glow of his
Mediterranean heritage, radiating vitality.

Carlo's movements were graceful, hinting at a natural athleticism, and he
had a presence that drew people towards him.

I moved my stuff in the next day. There was a bookshelf and a single bed in
the room already, and I brought a table, a desk lamp, bedding, towels, and
a comfortable chair. I had to share a single bathroom across the hallway
that Carlo kept very clean. The kitchen was well-equipped and even had a
dishwasher.

We soon found our rhythm in the apartment, and we took turns making
supper. We didn't have many spoken rules, but we kept the bathroom and
kitchen clean and respected each other's space. Once a week we went on a
long walk on a beach or on a trail together where we would catch up and
speak about world affairs. I was attracted to Carlo, but with Matt's death
and Sven's breakdown, I kept things cool. Carlo had spoken about a
girlfriend he had in Italy, so I wasn't exactly sure if he was bi or gay,
but I did get a sense that he liked me. Now and then he would put his hand
on my shoulder or touch my hand and he once touched my thigh.

I may have studied the stoics but wasn't one of them. Sex was, in Stoic
philosophy indifferent; however, according to Seneca, sex was a locus
particularly susceptible to passional corruption. We had learned that
Seneca displayed the same traditional prejudices against sex workers and
their procurers found among Zeno and Chrysippus. I was a twenty-year-old,
and I had intense feelings for my roommate. I would fantasise about being
with Carlo when I masturbated in the shower, and some nights I would lie
awake fondling my dick thinking of him.

One evening Carlo and I walked among the mix of modern and historic
buildings on campus, which reflected the university's rich history. We
spoke about the privilege of being on such a beautiful campus with its
well-equipped classrooms, laboratories, and libraries. We loved the
community at UCT which was known for its cultural diversity, every day we
met students from different backgrounds and nationalities, and we felt
proud that the university was committed to social justice. We stopped at
the top of the campus (located on the slopes of Table Mountain) and enjoyed
the stunning views of the city and the surrounding landscape.

Things changed one night. We had enjoyed an evening at the Wine Society
where one of the local wine estates had brought a range of their new wines
to taste. We were fortunate that the young winemaker accompanied the
tasting team to his old university. Carlo commented:

"Isn't he simply stunning, I wouldn't mind going home with him tonight."

He was gorgeous and incredibly charismatic, and Carlo made sure he got to
introduce himself and told Wynand about his relative's wine farm back in
Italy. I had never noticed Carlo flirt before, but he went a little
overboard. After a couple of glasses of wine, Carlo and I walked back to
our apartment. We were both a little under the weather, but that didn't
stop me from being on edge when we passed near the place where Matt was
stabbed to death. I was glad to get home in one piece.

We chilled in the lounge for a while and Carlo took out a bottle of
limoncello which he had brought back from Italy. We sat together drinking
on the couch and I could see the tent in his pants, I was hard too, and I
felt a kind of energy between us, maybe a bit more of the Wonka
magic. After three months of restraint, I leaned over and kissed Carlo and
tasted the stickiness left by the limoncello. Carlo moved closer wrapped
his arms around me and held me tight. I ran my hands over his muscular
chest. We stripped, and I finally got a close-up view of his dick. He was
hard, not too long but he had good girth. I couldn't restrain myself any
longer and took his sweaty dick into my mouth. He tasted good and I eagerly
moved up and down his shaft playing with his head and foreskin. He pushed
me off and began to suck me. His mouth was warm, and he was an expert. I
soon stopped him, as I didn't want to cum too quickly.

Carlo took me by the hand, and we went to shower together, kissing and
wanking and sucking. I don't think that shower had ever experienced so much
sensuality before. Carlo and I swallowed each other's cum, and I think we
both knew that things would be different in our relationship from then on.

The next day Carlo got a call from Wynand, the young winemaker, inviting us
to his cellar on the weekend and we were quite excited about going. It was
overcast when we left, and I wondered what Carlo's expectations were. He
had flirted so much with him at the tasting. As we left the city, a drizzle
began to fall incessantly. The vineyards looked greener against the dark
sky. Wynand came out to welcome us when arrived and ushered us into his
home where his wife had made fresh scones. Carlo found it hard to hide his
disappointment when he met Marisa, and his expectations changed.

It was fantastic to see the cellars where Wynand worked and to be given a
tour of his lab. We were fortunate to have met such a talented person and
to gain insight into this highly scientific world. Once the rain had
stopped, the grapes were looking good, especially with the water droplets
on them, it wasn't much longer until harvest. Carlo and Wynand walked ahead
and I stayed back to take some photos. I noticed Wynand put his hand on
Carlo's arse when they went around another row of vines. I also saw Carlo
hold his hand for a second when he thought he was out of sight.

So many thoughts were going through my mind. The invite to visit the farm
happened quickly, and it seemed that Wynand couldn't keep his eyes off
Carlo. The signals in the vineyard were obvious to me. I was pleased that I
had kept a distance and hadn't become too involved with Carlo.

Wynand asked us to stay for dinner and I joined Marisa in the kitchen, and
we prepared a green salad and a potato salad. Wynand and Carlo made a fire
outside for the barbecue and spiced some steaks. I heard Wynand and Carlo
talking about Italy and the opportunities there for winemaking. The dinner
was delicious, and Wyand's Shiraz went down well.

I wasn't jealous, as I wasn't committed to Carlo, but I was concerned that
Wynand had only recently gotten married and could foresee the possibility
of things becoming complicated. Marisa was a lovely person and had moved
from her criminology job in Pretoria, and she was still finding her feet in
the Western Cape, she told me that Wynand and her were thinking of starting
a family.

Carlo was quiet in the car as we made our way back to the city. I told him
how much I had enjoyed the afternoon and how great it was to get first-hand
insight into winemaking I wanted to confront Carlo about Wynand, but I
didn't know how to do it. I thought of saying something like: "Did you know
that Wynand and Marisa were talking about starting a family?" But I
didn't. When we arrived home, I said goodnight to Carlo, and I went
straight to my room to change.

There was a knock at my door. I was reading my obligatory novel and Carlo
came in and sat on my bed.

"I like Wynand, there is a vibe between us. When we were next to the
barbeque at sunset, he kissed me.'

I couldn't keep quiet and had to say something. I didn't want to sound like
a prude or too moralistic.

"Open your eyes, Carlo. This can become very complicated and messy. Wynand
and Maris are newly married and are talking about starting a family. Do you
want to come between all of that? Besides you don't even know him, you've
only met him twice. My friend Matt had such good ways of putting things, he
would say: `When the little head gets hard, the big head gets soft.' I
suggest you take a step back and think about things."

Carlo wanted to get into bed with me and I said to him: "Not tonight."