Dom and Sandro Ch. 01

Chapter V Jennifer: Jennifer finds a boyfriend

Two days before the beginning of the Martinmas term, I got off the train in Camford station with suitcase and backpack and joined the queue for a cab to take me to college. I had chosen a nice single room in the third quad for my second year, with en-suite bathroom. I left my suitcase at the porter's lodge and took the backpack to my new room. I was disappointed that Dom Overton had elected to live out of college, though I could understand his desire for the unlimited opportunities for shagging his boyfriend that an apartment ten minutes away from college could offer. Moreover, we had agreed that I would be accorded the privilege of sitting with them at dinner on Tuesdays and Sundays when they dined in college, as their officially appointed fag-hag! So at least I was guaranteed intelligent conversation on two evenings per week. As the male engineering students in my year in Boni's were boring and poor company, I was hoping to find among the new intake of freshmen someone whom I could spend the rest of my spare time with. It would, if I wanted a man, have to be someone from another part of the college, because the college rigidly segregated its rooms into male and female staircases. There were no mixed staircases. This rule dated from the days when en-suite facilities did not exist. There was hope that now that 90% of rooms had en-suite bathrooms, the rule might be changed for the benefit of couples in a relationship.

My first year at Boni's had begun rather traumatically. The first few men that I had dated had neither charm nor intelligence, but only seemed to want sex. So then I tried girls. They turned out to be (a) obsessed with men, makeup and pop culture or (b) wrapped up in their academic work to the exclusion of anything else or (c) obsessed with politics, student journalism, women's hockey, women's soccer and other such activities, or (d) boring and characterless. So finally I tried gay men. They were much more interesting. They did not threaten me or attempt to seduce me, and they talked about intelligent things. OK, so they did talk about men's clothes rather a lot and some were very arty-crafty, but at least they did not talk about women and some not even about football!

Eventually, purely by accident towards the end of my first term, I met Sandro and his partner Dom. Sandro was cute. He had a brown Mediterranean skin and long black hair, and was tall and slender. He had a small goatee beard, which suited him nicely. His friend was blond, slightly taller but more solidly built. They were into squash, swimming, classical music and foreign cinema. As these interests, except for squash and swimming, overlapped with mine, I became their fag-hag. They were both college scholars, showing that they were very competent in their studies, but were enormously good company, and I missed them a lot during the summer vac. We went out frequently as a threesome, and in spite of the fact that they were very wrapped up with one another, I very rarely felt myself playing the 'gooseberry' role. But when Sandro got a studentship to study for a Ph.D. in railway engineering and would have one further year in Camford, he could no longer live in college and had to move to his uncles' apartment in Fountain Street. Dom of course, eager to sleep every night with his boyfriend, moved out of college for his final year. So although I would still see them frequently, it would not be on a regular basis, and I desperately needed some company.

These thoughts passed through my mind as I returned to the lodge to collect my suitcase. As a would-be engineer, I am quite tough, and the suitcase was not massively heavy, but when an obviously new young man asked if he could carry my case for me, I certainly did not say no! He was tall and substantially built, muscular, but not fat, with dark crewcut hair.

When we got to my room, I thanked him and asked if he would like a cup of tea, it being that time in the afternoon. "Yes, please," he said. I filled a kettle in the bathroom and plugged it in and produced tea bags out of my backpack. I introduced myself and asked him to do the same and tell me a bit about himself. "I'm Charles Higgins," he said "and I'm going to read geography. I'm hoping to get involved in rowing and squash." We had a really interesting chat and as term had not yet started, we were able to go into the single-sitting informal dinner together. Normally, second-year students were expected to go into the formal second-sitting dinner.

Afterwards, I went back with him for coffee in his room. He was very gentlemanly. No attempts at touching me, not even hand-holding! Although he was sporty, he was also intelligent and a good conversationalist and I agreed to go out with him for a drink after dinner on the following Wednesday. On the day before that, I joined Dom and Sandro for dinner. I warned them that they might see rather less of me this term if the possible relationship with Charles actually took off. They wished me luck.

Chapter VI Sandro: Is being gay sinful?

As the term progressed, my work in the lab also developed. The preliminary experiments looked very promising, and it was clear that Dr Ashburton was impressed. He would even talk to me during the coffee break. One day he called me into his office and said that we ought to make a start on what I needed to do for the professional engineering exams. I had joined the Institute of Civil Engineers in my final undergraduate year, and it was now necessary to get the status of Chartered Engineer. He gave me a copy of the syllabus, and together we mapped out a timescale for me to tackle the various parts. Then he invited me to have dinner with him one evening. It seemed as if he was making a big effort to be friendly.

We went for dinner to the nearest pub to the campus that did food, the Whale and Wheelbarrow. "I hope that I'm not embarrassing you by raising the topic of homosexuality," he said, over the meal. "I am a bible Christian, and the bible forbids homosexuality."

"We have both just enjoyed an excellent prawn cocktail at the beginning of our meal," I said, "yet the bible forbids the eating of shellfish, not to mention pork! It also says that menstruating women are ritually unclean! When I came up to Camford, I discovered that I was sexually attracted to men, whereas women left me cold. But that does not mean that I personally want to hang out in gay pubs and shag a different man each night. I have been lucky enough to fall in love with a man with whom I want to spend the rest of my life and ultimately, when we are each established in a career, to start a family with him, either by adoption or by surrogacy. Just because a union of two persons of the same sex cannot lead to progeny does not in any way weaken or invalidate the loving relationship between them. Homosexuality is a biological fact, and the only reason that a lot of gays are promiscuous is that for centuries society denied them the freedom to establish lifetime partnerships, as heterosexuals have always been able to do.

"And as far as religion is concerned, I should point out that my two gay uncles, whom you have met, are firmly of the belief that because they have offered their union to God, He has blessed it and they have lived happily together for nearly thirty years, even though the state only recognized their partnership about five years ago. Indeed it was through sexual union that my uncle Jon came to become a Christian believer and was baptized some twenty years ago. That of course I tell you in confidence, though I am sure that he would be prepared to talk to you about it. Their son, my cousin, is also gay and he and his partner are also regular churchgoers. Indeed they both sing in the choir at the English Church in Bologna. No-one in the congregation there regards them as sinful, and they have never attempted to hide their homosexuality. Jesus Christ never mentions the topic of gayness in the gospels. The great Old Testament king, David had an honourable and loving same-sex relationship with Jonathan, and an extremely dishonourable heterosexual relationship with Bathsheba, another man's wife. So the bible is not a reliable guide to right and wrong!"

At the end of the evening, I think that we both understood each other better, and from that time onwards the reserve between us had gone. I was grateful to Jon, who during my first few months in England had talked to me a lot about the legal and religious aspects of being gay. At the time, I little realized how useful his instruction would be.

Chapter VII Dom: A comfortable habit

One Friday evening, David came home for the weekend. We all ate together as a sort of family that evening, Jon having done the cooking. We had started on our second bottle of Bardolino, and we had just finished eating when David raised one of his legs from his seat and released an enormous fart, which was so loud that it seemed to echo round the room. "It's a good job that the neighbours are out!" he said "or they would have come knocking on the door in case we had had a gas explosion! I suppose that we have, only the pipe it escaped from is my shithole!"

"Don't be embarrassed by my uncle, Dom," said Sandro, "he is even more crude than the rest of us! Just be thankful that he hasn't stunk the room out!" A long discussion on farting followed. If you dislike the topic or feel it inappropriate in a romantic story, feel free to skip the rest of this chapter.

David said, "But Dom, you must know already that I'm not the most flatulent person in this household. That distinction belongs to Jon. Never stand near him in a public toilet, because he will always let off a loud fart when standing at the urinal."

"Well," said Jon, "if you can't relieve yourself of wind in a toilet, when can you do it?"

"You could always lock yourself in a stall and sit on the pot," replied David. "People would still hear the fart, but wouldn't know who had done it!"

I could feel my dick stiffening as the conversation continued. "I come from a very polite family," I said, "and only occasionally do I hear my brothers fart. It took a bit of getting used to, living with you lot, but now I enjoy being able to relieve myself without causing embarrassment. It takes me back to my days at boarding school, where there was always at least one boy, and often quite a few, who farted noisily in the dorm, though we didn't do it in class!"

"Have you met Robin Banks yet?" asked David. "He's in charge of the operations of Jon's Afforestation Trust, and he farts more than anyone I have ever met. It's a good job that he works outdoors most of the time! No wonder he's gay. No woman would ever put up with his farting habits! His boyfriend loves it, though."

"I can understand that," I said, "it always turns me on when Sandro lets one off."

Sandro grinned. "I never thought that you would ever admit in public to enjoying me farting! I'm glad that Dom and I have become second family to you two guys," he said, smiling comfortably at his two uncles. "Let me just load the dishes into the dishwasher, and then I suggest that we leave coffee until much later. I am sure that David and Jon want some quality time together, and I can see from the way that Dom is squirming in his chair that he and I have some business to see to together. Don't worry, we will keep our bedroom door firmly shut!"

Five minutes later, he and I were in our bedroom feverishly removing each other's clothes. As I bent to pull my underpants off, I backfired loudly. "Farting seems to be catching tonight!" I grinned.

Chapter VIII Dom: Dom and Sandro make love

Sandro kissed me affectionately, wrapping his arms tightly round my bare chest. "You anally obsessed man-fucker! You uphill gardener! You turd-burglar! You want me to take the chain off and admit you via the back-door!" I was so impressed at Sandro's vocabulary of vulgarity, that I was lost for words, I just said yes, at the moment that his hand grasped my rock-hard cock tightly.

I disengaged myself from him, bent him over the bed and began to poke lube up his shithole with first one, then two and finally three fingers, which I spread to stretch him. I then slipped a condom onto my cock, parted his arse-cheeks with my hands, and gently began to push my cock into his starfish.

The doggy position is the classic position for buggery, I think because it facilitates access to the anus. It is however not the best for lovers, because there is no face-to-face contact. In that respect, the missionary position is superior. However, I was so randy that I wanted to get my cock into my boy as quickly as possible. I pushed my dick in, and after a grimace as I penetrated, he relaxed, and though I could not see his face, I guessed that he was smiling as I had my way with him. In and out, in and out, I worked my cock, gently and slowly at first, but increasing in speed until I was violently and roughly fucking him. The sweat ran down from my armpits and coated Sandro's back and my chest and belly. I continued working until the male miracle happened and I muttered, "I'm coming!" as I shot my load into the condom deep inside him.

I started to kiss his shoulders and back and slid my lips over his sweaty skin as the blood slowly ebbed out of my tool and it slipped out of his rear end. I pulled him up into a standing posture, and got hold of his dick, from which pre-come was flowing copiously. I gently massaged it between my fingers and tickled his balls. He turned round in my arms and pressed himself tightly against me and began to rub his tool against my belly. I reached round him and placed my hands one on each of his smooth round buttocks as he worked himself vigorously to a climax against my belly. He squirted his fuck-juice all over the front of my body, as he clasped me tightly in his arms. His loving excitement transmitted itself to my body, and I relaxed and let another noisy fart escape from my hole.

I pulled the full condom off my cock and knotted the end of it. We kissed passionately for several minutes before wiping ourselves down and collapsing in exhaustion on to the bed. "My darling boy, my own sweet, loving bed-mate, we've been together for a year and a half, and we've been fucking for over six months, and I still don't know when your birthday is!" I murmured to him.

"Actually, it's in March," he said "Next year we could have a combined celebration of my twenty-third birthday and the anniversary of our first fuck! Let's go to London and celebrate it in the flat there."

Chapter IX Dom: Christmas in Italy

That Christmas, my family had to decide whether to go to Getheringthwaite for the festive season, or to invite my grandfather and Robert his boyfriend to Paradise Place, my parental home in Kent. It was however, not my problem, as Sandro had invited me to spend Christmas and New Year at his home with Luke and Tom and of course Bianca his sister. I really hoped to get to know Bianca better, as well as Luke and Tom. I needed too to convince Sandro's parents, that I was just an ordinary guy (who happened to be gay), hoping to earn a living in the IT sector, rather than a snooty scion of a noble family, born to wealth and power. I could tell them that gayness ran in my family and cite the examples of the first Marquess and the sixth Marquess, the Wicked Lord, without of course mentioning my grandfather.

Three days before Christmas, we drove to Bristol Airport and flew to Valerio-Catullo-Villafranca Airport, where Sandro's mother Dorothea met us. Tom and Sandro's brother Luke would not arrive until Christmas morning, as they always went to Midnight Mass in the English Church in Bologna. When we finally gathered round the table for Christmas dinner, Tom was very ebullient. He had just passed another, quite advanced, piano exam, another of his papers had been accepted for publication, and he had just heard that he was to become an uncle. His sister Liz, whose wedding we had attended three months before was expecting a baby in June. Bianca was working very hard at school. She hoped to do well enough in her exams to get into a university in Paris.

Luke was extremely busy in his job. There was just a year to go before David would be coming to Trabizona to sing the role of Capes in Antonio di Sicilia's new opera. The opera was called Anna Veronica, and the libretto was based on a novel by H.G. Wells, published in 1909. Just as Shakespeare set many of his plays in Italy, because, perhaps, it seemed more exotic and romantic, and Donnizetti set operas in England or Scotland for the same reason, di Sicilia had chosen a story set in the London of the early twentieth century. It had previously later in the century been used as the basis for a musical, but an opera had never been thought of until David had suggested it to di Sicilia. It tells the story of a bourgeois young girl, Ann Veronica, her fight to lead a life independently of her family, her coming to wisdom and happiness via the trials and errors of love, and her involvement in the Women's Suffrage movement. It paints a good picture of a middle-class female student of zoology in the very early days of women's lib. It seemed to Luke a superb example of the triumph of love over bourgeois moral norms, and like his father, he was desperate for it to be a success.

His boss Cornelio was enthusiastic and fully committed to the project of hosting the premiere of Italy's greatest opera composer's latest work, but he knew that financially, he was taking an enormous risk. Because of the high cost of a totally new production and the need for a top-notch soprano to sing the title role, David had put €100K of his own money into the production, and had persuaded Jon to do the same. He had also given Trabizona a 50% discount on his usual performance fees. Even so, further patronage would be necessary for a high quality production, and Antonio was lobbying for a government grant, and trying to get financial support from either the culture department or the regional fund of the European Commission. Luke had approached Arturo Sescantanto, Tom's very cultured gay boss, and Arturo had promised a contribution and was seeking donations from his opera-loving friends.

Luke knew that if the production were a failure, Antonio's reputation would take long time to restore, the Teatro Musicale would go bust, and he, not to mention the orchestra and chorus, Cornelio and Pauline, would all be out of a job! There was no wealthy foundation sponsoring their opera house, they were a purely commercial organization, totally dependent on public support to survive. Moreover, getting another job in opera management would be extremely unlikely if the venture failed. At times Luke almost started to think that if the worst did happen, he would stop work and he and Tom would start a family with him, Luke as the homemaker and Tom the breadwinner. Thus it was absolutely essential that in the coming year, audiences should be maximized, while avoiding expensive soloists. But in the pleasure of the company of his brother and me, these thoughts receded a little, and they had an enjoyable two days before their return to Trabizona until the New Year. Sandro and I of course did not have to work, and I concentrated on getting to know Massimo, Dorotea and Bianca.

Luke and Tom returned late on New Year's Eve for the New Year holiday. In the evening, Dorotea cooked the traditional New Year dinner, and on New Year's Day, we all went out to a restaurant for lunch with Massimo's sister and her family of two teenagers. It was the first time that these children had met two gay couples at the same time, and teenagers being what they are, a friendly but frank discussion took place at which both Luca and Sandro had to explain why they found men more attractive than women. The discussion of course was totally lost on me, who could not understand more than the odd word. Just as Sandro's first English had been dirty words from the internet, so my Italian vocabulary was limited to words like cazzo (cock) and culo (arse). Sandro's cousins could of course speak quite a lot of English, but it was not the kind of conversation that could be carried on in a foreign language. Tom on the other hand did not have the slightest difficulty in following what was said, and even contributed a few comments himself about what it was like to kiss a man. He was more sober than the rest of the party, because late in the evening he would have to drive Luca back to Trabizona, as he was at work the next day.