An Italian boy in Camford Pt. 09

By the time that we had finished the Prosecco, it was 2 pm and the doorbell rang. Over the doorphone I asked the deliverer to wait, pulled on jeans and sweater and descended the steps barefoot to collect the box of food. I took it upstairs into the kitchen and opened it. There was a carton of gourmet soup that needed to be heated up in the microwave, a dressed crab with salad, potato salad, hard-boiled egg and bread-sticks, and a trifle dessert, with a bottle of Riesling wine and a box of coffee mints. In spite of our previous snack, we were still ravenous, and we sat up at the table in the small dining room, both still stark naked, and tucked in to the meal. It was one of the best meals I have ever had. As we drank our coffee, Dom showed his enjoyment by farting noisily and said, "Sandro, if you chose that menu, you're a genius!"

"Well, yes, I did, but it was a package. It was described in the brochure as a honeymoon or seduction menu. But it served just as well as a virginity-loss menu! Let's just have ten minutes more of Rustic Lust to give our food a chance to settle and then it's my turn again! I love you SO much, and it's ages since we last spent a day alone together."

My second fuck was much less tense. The knowledge that I could gain admission to the treasure house made me more confident and also my dick was harder. I adopted the missionary position with Dom lying on his back. There was no time wasted in applying lube, except to my condom, and the sight of Dom's wide open legs and the delicious starfish visible through his hairy crack reinforced my desire to get in there and fuck him hard. I lifted his legs onto my shoulders and gently and cautiously began to push my dick into him. The ring opened easily and I was inside him without any apparent discomfort on his part. He smiled encouragingly at me and I bent forward and kissed his sweet face. Since my dick is not particularly long, I knew that I could push it in to its maximum extent so that he would be able to feel my pubic hair against his arse-cheeks. So I got going fucking him reasonably hard and rapidly. He grinned, and said, "That's what I like. No sex education manual tells you how much men like to be fucked! You are doing a brilliant job, Sandro!"

I continued buggering Dom for quite some time, until eventually I came. By then it was my turn to drip sweat and Dom smiled again lovingly. I withdrew from his hole and lay on top of him, belly to belly and began to rub my belly against his erect cock. He responded by pushing his belly upwards and within a couple of minutes he began to wriggle with excitement prior to coming to his climax and squirting his jism all over both our bellies. I lay quietly on top of him for a couple of minutes, and then rolled over to lie beside him on the towel that I had spread out to protect my uncles' silk sheets. He snuggled up beside me and whispered in my ear "Long live buggery! You've given me the delight of my life. That was the best bodily experience I have ever had. Streets ahead of a gourmet meal at a fancy restaurant! I'm yours for life, Sandro Mascagnoli!"

I got out of bed and brought a flannel to clean ourselves up. Then we had a couple of hours sleep until about 6-30, when we showered and went to the Venezia, where we shared a pizza and salad and a bottle of Cortese, before returning home for an early night. Sleeping together during term time was still a great luxury, and we made the most of each other's closeness.

The following day, we eased off on the sex, but stayed in bed quite late enjoying one another's kisses and company. It was sheer coincidence, but it happened to be the anniversary of the incident when my phone was stolen and Dom realized that he loved me. We skipped breakfast, but went to the Sparrowhawk for an early lunch and a couple of pints before returning to the flat, sorting out the bed and generally clearing up. Then we went a short walk, heading back to college and arrived in time for Chapel and dinner.

Chapter Sixty-six: Dom tells us his reactions

After much impatience on my part, finally in mid-February of my second year, Sandro and I finally went the whole way. We both felt that we needed to be sure of each other before consummating our relationship. We needed to feel that total union of our bodies was an act of commitment to a long-term relationship that we both felt should be lifelong. I had been lusting for his submissive body for months, longing to plunge my rampant dick into his mouth-watering arsehole and shag the shit out of him. However the reality proved rather different. My sweet submissive boy wanted to do the same to me! He said that my hairy muscular arse really set him drooling with lust! So there was no one-sided sacrifice of anal virginity. We both wanted to possess the other and to surrender ourselves to him. Clearly this was a situation that required thought and compromise, so that we both had a chance to pop the other's cherry, as the crude expression has it.

My only previous experience of non-oral penetration was with two girls when I was a sixthformer. Neither of them was particularly attractive, but they both came on to me very hard, and as a sex-curious teenager, I was not going to say no! Obviously in the first case I was losing my virginity, but for a man, that just means one's first fuck. I was heavily encouraged and I managed to perform, but I did not really enjoy it. The second time, I found myself wondering why I was doing it, which scarcely suggests that I was being carried away by love, or even lust. For the next three years, gentlemanly relief using porn web sites was enough for me, and I really thought that the joys of sex were grossly exaggerated.

Then I met Sandro, and gradually things began to change. This quiet Italian boy was obviously hot, and he made no secret of wanting me in every way possible. After enjoying his company for a few months, I knew that I was as much in love as he obviously was. I was forced into a declaration by Sandro getting mugged by a street teenager and having his iPhone nicked. He was concussed in the robbery, and as I sat by his bedside as he lay unconscious in the hospital, I realized that he had become precious to me. So in that way we became lovers.

That day in the apartment in Fountain Street was the culmination of our union. By fucking one another, Sandro and I sealed the bond of union between us, strengthened very much by my grandfather's moral support. Our relationship had sparked a family revolution, dragging my historic Ovenden family into the twenty-first century. There had been gay Ovendens before, including the first Marquess, who slept with King James and got his title as reward for playing Pockenello to James's Bolloximian. My grandfather revealed to me that he had always been a closet gay and was currently fucking his chauffeur, but had been pushed by his family into marriage and begetting an heir to the title. He told me that as I had two brothers, male succession to his title was assured, so if I chose to take a male partner, I was in no way letting the family down. "You will be the first openly gay Marquess since James Ovenden, sixth Marquess in the eighteenth century, the Perverted Lord, who created a family scandal by publicly kissing one of his bum-boys as he left the chamber of the House of Lords!" he said. "That made the family politically unacceptable for fifty years afterwards! It's interesting too, that when the Parliament Houses were burnt down in 1834, certain radical preachers said that it was God's judgement on Parliament for the sodomitical behaviour of certain members of the upper house. All this because the poor guy had kissed his boyfriend in public!"

I was given the job of breaking the news to my parents and brothers that there were TWO gays in the family. It only proved hard to convince my father. My mother and brothers were quite happy to have a gay son/brother, especially the second son, my brother Michael, who as heir to the estate, but not the title, would take over running the family estates when my father, who was an academic with no interest in country life, inherited the title. My father's big shock was not his queer son, but his faggot father! But British society has moved on since the nineteen-forties, and to be a practising gay is not only no longer criminal, it is fashionable!

So to my great surprise, I discovered that not only did I enjoy fucking Sandro, but that I enjoyed it when he fucked me. His average-sized tool fitted nicely into my back passage, and it was a delight to submit to his advances.

Later, when I began to learn some Italian, Sandro showed me this quotation from Pietro Aretino's eighth Sonnetto Lussurioso

Finisca in me la mia genealogia!/ Chio vo' fottervi dietro, spesso, spesso,/ Poiché gli é più differente il tondo dal fesso/ che l'acquata dalla malvasia.

My lineage ends in me/ I want to dedicate myself to your arsehole,/ For cunt and ringhole both differ/ As much as water and rich wine.

Although the poet is writing of the contrast between the two female bodily orifices, he definitely prefers the arsehole, even though it means he will never have any children!

After our wonderful virginity-loss festival, we were both totally committed to a gay lifestyle. I admired my grandfather enormously for risking scandalizing his family in order to enjoy in old age the pleasure he had missed during his marriage. I felt grateful too to my father, who by begetting my two brothers had enabled me to be free from any need to do the same! When I thanked him for that, he grinned and shook my hand. He was not a man-kisser, not even of his own sons!

When we next went to the pub with Jennifer, at the end of the evening she said to us (we had all become a bit indiscreet with alcohol), "You guys are different since that weekend away that you had. Sandro is a lot more self-confident. I wonder what you both got up to that weekend."

"You can wonder, but we won't tell you!" I said, "but yes indeed, we are different."

Chapter Sixty-seven: Dom's second Easter vacation

One day, shortly before the end of term, as I was working in the third-year lab, Professor Hinchcliffe, Head of the engineering department, came into the lab and asked me to come to his office for a few minutes. He told me that he had had a very good report about my time at Rail-UK, and that if I got a first, the company was prepared to offer me a studentship for a Ph.D. on a specified topic that they wanted to investigate in collaboration with Dr Philip Ashburton of our Department. The work would involve spending the first year in the department developing the application, which was an important aspect of signalling technology. If that went well, the second year would be spent at the Rail-UK development labs at Oxtedborough, and the third year doing field tests at the Rail-UK test tracks in Nottinghamshire. Along the line, there would be the opportunity to sit professional engineering exams. Sensing that this was a unique opportunity, I at once said that I was interested. The Prof emphasized that the offer was strictly dependent on me getting a first, otherwise it would be offered elsewhere.

At my next tutorial, I asked Dr Clarendon, my tutor, what Dr Ashburton was like. I had not heard any of his lectures, nor had he taught any lab classes. Dr Clarendon, who by now knew me well enough to know that I was gay, said that Ashburton was a brilliant researcher, but that if I worked with him I would have to be careful how I behaved, because he seemed to be a bit homophobic. That did not worry me at the time, I was just strongly attracted by the prospect of useful job-related research and an extra year in Camford. Besides, I knew that working as an engineer would bring much homophobic comment that I just had to learn to live with.

Because of the imminence of my Final Honour Schools exams in week 8, and the fact that lectures continued up to week 6 of the Pentecost term, I decided to spend the whole of the Easter vacation at Ixton or Camford, except for a week over Easter, when I would go home and take Dom with me. Dom would spend most of the Easter vac. at his home, except for a week immediately after the end of term. We spent that week in the flat at Fountain Street and managed a good balance of work and sex. Jon had tactfully gone to Rockwell's Barn. We planned our time carefully, going to bed at 11 pm and getting up at 7 am. We usually had sex before breakfasting about 8-30. Then we had four hours work, with a 15-minute break for coffee about 11. After a one-hour break for lunch, we worked till 4 pm. If it was fine we then went for a walk, if wet, we went to bed for an hour. At 6 pm, we went to the Sparrowhawk to eat, usually with one pint of beer, and watched television or a porn DVD in the evening. We did have one day off, where we spent the morning at the Fitness Centre and the afternoon at the Rialto. After Dom had gone home to Paradise Place, I moved to join Jon at Rockwell's Barn, where I spent the mornings and early afternoons working, then went for a walk, alone or with Jon and returned to eat a meal cooked by Jon.

On the Wednesday of Holy Week, I went by train to London, where I was joined by Dom and we flew from Heathrow to Valerio-Catullo, where we were met by Massimo. My father shook hands with Dom in a friendly fashion, and I saw that he had accepted him as one of the family, even if he did not kiss him. At that stage, the only persons outside Dom's family who knew his identity were David and Jon, and they were both sworn to secrecy.

We had decided that the time had come for us to tell my parents Dom's identity. Good Friday that year was cold, and after lunch we sat indoors drinking coffee. I said, "Mamma e Pappa, there is something I need to tell you. La famiglia di caro Domenico mio è nobile. He will become a nobleman when his father dies. Oggi Dom è Viconte, suo padre è Conte e suo nonno è Marchese. (Today Dom is a Viscount, his father is an Earl and his grandfather a Marquess). Only the Marquess is a nobleman, but Dom will become one eventually. At present, he prefers not to use his title. È molti soldi in sua famiglia (there's a lot of money in his family), but he intends to work for a living. His brother will inherit the estate and country house and eventually the title when Dom dies. His family are happy for him and me to become partners, because the succession to the title is assured by his two brothers. Any children we might adopt cannot inherit the title." You can imagine the sensation that this announcement created.

Dom asked the Mascagnolis not to reveal his secret at present, but to conceal it until we eventually became partners. Massimo and my mother quite understood that Dom wanted to keep his title secret, and Bianca was sworn to secrecy. My mother kissed him in her amazement, and Dom smiled at her warm reception of his news. Massimo seemed bowled over by the revelation. "I would never have thought it!" he said. "Italy is a democratic country. We have hundreds of noblemen with titles acquired from the Papacy, the Italian monarchy, the old kingdoms of Naples, Sicily, Sardinia and Savoy and the old Austrian empire, but I have never met any of them. They do not lead the same kind of lives as ordinary people. In England, it is obviously different."

My grandparents were more religious than my parents, and I knew that it was useless to visit them on Maundy Thursday or Good Friday, but on the Saturday we got up early and took the train to Pisa, where Signor and Signora Mascagnoli lived. I knew that they did not know the secret of my parentage, and I had had five or six years to get used to the deception, so I did not care a shit if they accused me of immorality and sent me out of their house.

My grandfather as a young boy had picked up a lot of English from occupying American soldiers after World War 2, and had continued to learn it at school. His enthusiasm for languages was stimulated when his son married my mother, and by then approaching retirement from his job as a teacher, he got a new stimulus to improve and practise his English. Unfortunately, my grandmother's knowledge of English was about the same level as Dom's Italian, i.e. more or less negligible! We got a bus to their house from the station, and it was with some trepidation that I knocked at the door. The intention was not to drop the bombshell at once, but to introduce Dom as an English friend in the first instance. We felt that they should judge Dom as a person, rather than presenting him as an appendage to me. Due to train times, we knew exactly when we had to leave.

It was mid-morning, and my grandmother offered us coffee. I had always been fond of her and I was very worried that I would upset her. It was difficult to know when to actually break the news to my grandparents. Should we do it at once and risk several cold and frosty hours, or should we leave it until just before we left? I decided that after lunch was the best time. There obviously wasn't going to be much chance for Nonna to get to know Dom, due to the linguistic barrier, but he did try very hard. After lunch, I decided that I would have to tell them in Italian. So I said to them, "Nonno e nonna, I have something to tell you that you may not like. Domenico and I are in love with one another, and we hope in two years time to become civil partners. Si, scusi, siamo busoni." (Sorry, yes, we're gays). They registered different emotions. My grandfather looked shocked, my grandmother merely surprised.

"Have you been teaching my grandson dirty tricks?" my grandfather asked Dom indignantly in English. We had told him that Dom was a couple of years older than me, so naturally he assumed that he had led me 'astray.'

"Now, grandfather," I said. "Don't go blaming Dom. I led him astray! I fell in love with him within a couple of weeks of meeting him for the first time. He is a very honourable, well brought-up person, and his family are very respectable. When they got over the shock, they have accepted us as a couple and welcomed me into their family!"

"And what do your parents think of this relationship?" he asked.

"It took them a while to get used to the idea, but now they have also accepted Dom into our family."

"It won't last, you know! He will find a man or even a woman that he prefers to you and you'll be left in the lurch with a broken heart! Gay relationships never end happily, and I think that it is God's judgement! Try and find a nice Italian girl and get married!"

"Nonno, I'm sorry, but we are going to have to leave. I had no need to tell you about Dom, but because I love my father, I wanted the two of you to know. If you change your mind about me, tell Pappa and we will come and see you again. But there is nothing that you can say that will change things between Dom and me."

As we walked to the bus, I said to Dom, "Dom, I'm sorry that things have turned out this way. Massimo is such a kind and noble person that I expected that his parents would be the same. Obviously I was wrong. My father David had the same problem with his maternal grandfather, who was even more rude. He was a gay-hating and xenophobic Nazi sympathizer, who cut my grandmother out of his will because she married an Englishman."

"What happened?"

"David gave his share of his grandfather's estate to his mother. He didn't want the old man's money, which may have been dishonestly earned. Anyway, to change the subject, when we get into the town, there'll be just time to look at the cathedral and the leaning Campanile before we go for our train."

When we got back home, it was almost time for us to return to England.

Chapter Sixty-eight: Sandro's final undergraduate term

There was not much time to explore the Camford waterways by punt that summer. Dom was busy in both lab and lecture room, I also had classes right up to week 6 of the term, leaving only one week before my exams began. So most of my evenings and Saturdays were spent in intensive revision, and when Dom was not engaged in academic work, he was reading. Occasionally he would go out with Jennifer to a concert or a film, but not often enough to give me any feelings of jealousy. She too had important exams that term.