The Glass House Ch. 03

"Beautiful. Very sexy. Sensual. The rocking horse position now, please."

Fifty-year-old, slim, elegant, movie-star handsome Emberto Ricci, owner of the Arno Art Gallery in Florence, Italy, near the Gallerie Degli Uffizi art museum on the banks of the Arno, sat on an ottoman near the four-poster bed of the master bedroom of his elegant flat above his art gallery. He was watching his young amante maschile--male lover--Mateo, fuck the young American tourist, twenty-year-old Jason Sands. Emberto had found Jason, who had said he was a university student taking a cultural gap year journey and who Emberto had called an angel, roaming the Gallerie Degli Uffizi.

The sensuous, well-muscled, but slender, blond body of the handsome young American was repositioned to lying, belly down, on the bed, his ankles hooked on a bolster, and his torso in a bow. The younger, nineteen-year-old, more muscular, sultry, dark-haired Italian youth, Mateo, stretched over Jason's back, putting the American in a full Nelson hold that had Jason's arms reaching, artistically, toward the Italian Renaissance-painted ceiling of Emberto's art-filled old-world townhouse. Mateo's ankles also were hooked on the bolster and, as directed, cock buried in Jason's ass, he rocked the two, as one elegant unit, like a rocking horse, letting the rocking action control the fuck.

There had been very little seduction needed. The American youth seemed anxious to sample men while on his European adventure. He hadn't even brought up being paid. After a bit of chit-chat, establishing their shared interest in good art, Emberto had said what he was interested in engaging the American to do and Jason had fallen right in with the plan.

Emberto, ever aware of the artistic arrangement of everything, had set the pose of the beautiful, joined, rocking young bodies. He, like the young men he was watching fuck, was naked, although he had a Japanese silk robe hanging off his shoulders. He was sitting, legs spread, robe flared open, on the ottoman, leaning in toward the tableau of the two young lovers, and was stroking his cock. It usually was him under Mateo, who he had acquired from a construction site and was training in the visual arts, but on occasion, like now, he'd see another young man he would like to see under Mateo and imagine it was him, Emberto, at a much younger age.

Jason had been such a young man, encountered at the premier Florence art gallery. He was an angel, a beautiful young man. It didn't matter that he was an American. He had elegance and grace and Italian Renaissance beauty. Emberto collected art of beautiful young male nudes; he produced art photographs of them as well.

Jason said he was taking a gap year in his studies at Princeton in the United States--that he was studying art and rebalancing his life after not having made the U.S. Olympics gymnastics team. His ancestors had come from the Florence area of Italy, so here he was. He was all of the beautiful things Emberto loved and admired--and wanted to possess.

Over coffee at a café on Lungarno della Grazie, running along the banks of the Arno, between the museum and Emberto's own art gallery, Jason admitted that he was gay and, although his family could afford his trip and thought they were paying for it, Jason was making his way across Europe from one art center to the other by letting men pick him up and cover him for the time they spent together.

"So, you're saying we should be talking the price for your making yourself available to me this afternoon?" Emberto asked. He pulled his wallet out and placed it on the table to show that he was willing to pay and to negotiate a price for Jason's body.

"Not at all," Jason said, covering Emberto's hand on his wallet with his own hand. "Please don't misunderstand. I let men pay my way when I am with them as they seem to want to, not because I can't afford to travel and take care of myself. I told you I was a submissive. I think it is part of the role of a submissive to let men take care of him, and the men I go with seem to agree. But it's only when the two are together and enjoying each other's company. I don't go with men to make money or if I am not enjoying their company. I'm not a prostitute. I do enjoy sex with a fascinating man, though."

"So, you are a submissive to men you would enjoy?" Emberto asked.

"Yes."

"And you could think of me as sufficiently fascinating? You could be submissive to me?"

"Yes, of course. You most certainly are a fascinating man." Jason gave Emberto a level smile, leaving his hand covering Emberto's on the man's wallet. Their conversation continued comfortably and on a more intimate level.

Yes, he thought Emberto was a handsome man. Yes, he would love to see Emberto's art gallery and what the older man had done with his flat above.

"I am an artist as well as a gallery owner," Emberto said. "I photograph beauty--the beauty of men's bodies. The beauty of them in motion, melding together. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Yes, Jason could understand that.

"Could you enjoy having your body being worshipped--by someone other than me? Someone more your age and your level of beauty? And being immortalized on film?"

Yes, Jason could see the art in that, and he found it intriguing.

"You are a beautiful young man, Jason. And you say you were a gymnast. You would be very flexible and fluid in motion, I am sure. Being submissive to me might be different from what you would assume. I have this young lover, Mateo."

"You cover him?"

"No. He covers me and he arouses me by covering other young men while I photograph them coupling together while I watch."

"Ah."

"You would be averse to--?"

No, Jason would not be averse to going under Emberto's amante maschile, Mateo, for Emberto to enjoy watching--and to photograph and paint, as he liked. Yes, Jason had kept up his gymnastics and was limber, and, yes, he enjoyed taking unusual sex positions.

Emberto paid for the coffees. As he extracted the money, he pulled out a wad of high-denomination euros and extended them toward Jason. The young man smiled, shook his head, and gently pushed Emberto's hand back.

"I'm traveling to appreciate art," he said. "I do not have to be paid to become art or to enjoy an interesting afternoon with a man I find fascinating."

"You are a refreshing young man, Jason. May you always maintain beauty and rise above the ugliness that is in life."

"So, if I go with you, you will not think of me as a prostitute?"

"Oh, my, no. I will think of you as a fellow artist--and as an angel worthy of being in Florence."

They rose from the table, and Emberto guided Jason to the art gallery, where, in one of the backroom galleries, he showed off paintings and photographs of young men fucking in elegant poses. Jason had been impressed not only with the high quality of the paintings but also the inventiveness of the poses. The rocking chair position was a favorite of his.

"Yes, I could do that," Jason said when asked. And, so, he did it with Mateo, as Emberto sat, naked except for the Japanese robe hanging from his shoulders, on his ottoman and, after putting his camera aside, stroked his own cock.

"Now, I would like to see your lovely cock appearing and disappearing in this luscious young man, Mateo," Emberto said. "Perhaps the position of the stiff-incline pushup."

Mateo kicked the bolster away as Jason went fully prone under him on his belly and stretched out in the position of the cross--his legs together and his arms stretched straight out from his shoulders.

"Face me, please, Jason." Emberto said. "Yes, good." Jason's cheek pressed into the creamy silk bedspread as Mateo stretched on top of him, holding himself off Jason's body with his fists stiff-arming the bed on either side of Jason's chest. His body was a board-straight incline hovering over the American's body. His cock was buried a few inches in Jason's ass, but the impressive length and girth of it could be seen linking the two bodies.

"Very good," Emberto said, firing off a couple of camera shots. "Now, take the lad to a completion."

Mateo commenced his pushup fuck--up, down, three-quarters of the length of the magnificent cock appearing and then disappearing--Jason's eyes took on a dreamy "I'm being taken well" expression, and, after firing a couple more camera shots, Emberto settled down to stroking his cock and working to time his release with that of the young men.

After they had all come, Mateo disappeared to his own quarters and Emberto guided Jason into his marble-clad bathroom. Jason was submerged into a bubble bath in the tub and Emberto knelt beside the tub, kissing the young American on the lips and slowly jacking off the young man's cock under the water.

"Where do you go from here?" he asked Jason.

"Do you wish to bed me after all?" Jason asked. "You can, if you like."

Emberto laughed. "I have taken you in my art. That is enough. I mean, where do you go from here on your European adventure?"

"From here it's to Milan."

"Be sure you take in the Museo Poldi Pezzoli and the Museo de Novecento," Emberto said.

"On my list," Jason answered.

"And if you have the chance and a man with culture and money, you must go up to Lake Como while you're in Milan. Go to Bellagio, go to the silk museum there, the Museo della Seta Como, and stay at either the Villa d'Esta or the Il Sereno. They are boutique hotels well worth the stay--especially if you have a handsome older man with experience and variety to bed you there."

"I can't always find a man of culture and money wherever I go."

"Speaking of which," Emberto said as he took his wallet out and extracted the same wad of high-denomination euro bills and handed them out toward Jason.

Jason smiled and said, "I enjoyed the day. I can manage from here, thank you."

Putting the money away again, Emberto smiled and said, "You truly are a beautiful young man--in depth. As long as you have your beauty and your fantastic body, always insist on the best. Where do you end your Italian sojourn?"

"In Venice."

"Ah, yes, always move up in culture and elegance, Jason. That is a good place for you to leave Italy."

"I'm not sure there's any room to go up from here," Jason whispered, his body making waves in the water as he was rocking his hips, close to coming off in Emberto's hand.

"Always strive for that--not only in art but in letting a man make love to your body," Emberto murmured. "Never let men bring you down, degrade you. Now, come for me, you beautiful boy, dry off and dress, and I will drive you to the train station."

Jason did as directed. He came in the older man's hand, under water, and Emberto and Mateo drove him to the train station in Emberto's Maserati Ghibli S Q4.

The last thing Emberto said was, "Always have an eye on your art and elegance, Jason. Demand the best. Always upward. Never let the men take you down. Don't become just a toy of a man or a vessel for his selfish lust."

"Yes, sir," Jason said, amused and confident that he could take care of himself in this world.

* * * *

Jason hadn't done any preparation for arriving in Milan. He hadn't done so all across Europe and he didn't do it when he arrived at the Stazione Centrale--the Central Train Station--on the Piazza Duca d'Aosta in the northeastern quadrant of the city. When Jason had asked Emberto where the gay district of Milan was, he'd been told there wasn't really one, that Milan, as the fashion house capital of Italy, and second only to Paris in Europe, was a city in which the gays fit in and didn't need their own district. If there was a general district, it was called Porta Venezia, but that there were plenty of gay establishments just south, into the city, from the train station Jason would arrive at in Milan.

So, Jason did what he did in all cities to start getting into swing of things--he relied on his sexy looks and his ability to look like he needed a handsome man's help and attention. He walked out of the station, heading south, and stood on a street corner, gazing into an unfolded map of the city, and looking perplexed. He had no plans other than to see art museums and to have meals and some place to sleep--and someone interesting and accomplished to sleep with--but, beyond having the names of a couple of museums, he had no referrals to restaurants or hotels.

His method worked as well in Milan as it did in any other European city. Along came a fashionably dressed, good-looking, dark-haired man of Jason's age, introducing himself as Cristian Carlucci and saying he was more than willing to help Jason out.

"Sembri perso. Posso aiutarla?" the young man asked Jason, and then when Jason looked confused and said, "Pardon?" Carlucci repeated in English, "Ah, you don't speak Italian? English, perhaps?"

"Yes, sorry. I only speak English. I was trying to see how to get to the art museum, the Museo Poldi Pezzoli, from here."

"It's not far, but not too near either. Are you English or perhaps American? A visitor to Milan for the first time? May I help you with directions? Or I could guide you there, if you wish."

Jason smiled at Carlucci, who was a handsome young man, and, if clothes were any guide, a wealthy one as well. Carlucci smiled back. Before Jason could answer, Carlucci said, "That museum is our premier art institution. Are you an artist or studying art?"

"I'm studying the history of art, taking the year off to see where the best of it came from," Jason answered the last question first, with a smile. "I'm American, in the middle of my college years at Princeton University. And, yes, I'm a tourist here. I just arrived today. I'm totally lost, and if you can point me in the direction of this Museo Poldi Pezzili and can tell me how to then get to the Museo del Novecente, I'd be very grateful."

"I am a student too. Here in the Polytechnic University of Milan, and I think, if you are happy with me as a guide, we should find a café to sit in and talk about your itinerary before you start your journey through the city. Do you have someplace to stay tonight? You can't see what there is to see in Milan in a day."

"Yes, a café would be very nice, thank you. And, no I haven't thought ahead to where to stay for the night. I can afford a hotel, I think. But you were going somewhere, weren't you? I don't want to keep you from where you needed to be."

"I have no plans. Just a fitting. But I can do that some other time. Here, there's a place nearby we can have a coffee and discuss what you want to see. I'll be happy to guide you there."

"A fitting?"

"Yes, I mostly pay for my college by modeling men's fashions. Milan is the fashion capital of Italy, you know."

Ah, that explained the expensive clothes, perfectly fit. Good genes explained the gorgeous body. "A model. I should have guessed," Jason said. "You look like a model."

"So do you," Carlucci said, with an appreciative smile. "I'm sure it was your looks that made me notice that you needed help."

"You notice men you find good looking?" Jason asked, beginning to determine if there was a fit here.

"Yes. It is a habit of models. Here, around the side of the train station, on the Via Giovanni Battista Sammartini, is a place we can get refreshment at--the 23 Club."

"The Via Gio... my, that's a mouthful. Is that the café up ahead? It looks closed."

"It will be open for us," Carlucci said when they were standing in front of the bar. "They will be open for coffee for me. I have rooms upstairs here--to go with my other job."

"Your job as a fashion model?"

"No, another job than that."

"But this looks like a gay club," Jason said, looking over the poster boards on the front of the building façade.

"Yes, it is," Carlucci said, turning and putting a hand on Jason's cheek and touching the young man's full lips with his thumb. "You mentioned having a mouthful as we approached. Your lips look very kissable. Or have I misjudged your preferences?"

"No, you haven't misjudged," Jason responded.

They went into the clutch, up against the wall, as soon as they entered the darkened club. They kissed and fondled. As they did so, Cristian managed to get them both unzipped and handed their cocks together, frotting them. The fondling went on for some time before Cristian laughed and pulled away.

"No one is taking the move. We are both submissives, aren't we?" he said.

"Yes, apparently so," Jason said. "So, you never top?"

"Not unless I'm being paid for it. And you?"

"I haven't," Jason said, with regret. Cristian seemed to see, appreciate, and share Jason's regret, which took any sting there might have been out of the situation. "Sorry,"

"Don't be sorry. We can still enjoy the day. You can still spend the night in my rooms upstairs, if you wish. I still am happy to welcome you to my city and to show it to you. Now, shall I turn on the lights and find some coffee for us? Bring your map over to one of those tables over there and we shall see what we shall see."

They did manage to get to both museums and Sforza Castle. Cristian took Jason to a few art galleries too. In one of the private gallery rooms of the type of gallery Cristian took him to, they were standing in front of an art photograph enlargement of two young, athletic men having sex in an atmospheric setting with strategic shadows.

"It looks like an Emberto Ricci," Jason said.

Cristian leaned over to looked in the bottom right corner of the art work. "It is. Do you know him?"

"Yes. I just visited him in Florence. Casually. We're more acquaintances than friends."

"Did you pose for him? You are as beautiful as either of these young men."

"Yes, similar to that. And with that man there. That is Emberto's young man, Mateo."

"Did you let Mateo cover you like that for photographs?"

"Yes."

"It looks like an interesting, exotic position."

"It was."

"Do you go with men casually?"

"When I find them handsome or intriguing. And when I find that they aren't another submissive, as I am." The two men laughed, remembering their fumbling earlier in the day.

"Interesting. You have told me that you would like to visit Lake Como while you are here. I don't have an automobile, as I told you. But perhaps I can help you get there. If you are willing to be friendly with a man--a very sexy man--one who has a very nice Alfa Romeo sports car--I could make a call."

"That sounds interesting," Jason answered. "The positions he takes... are they--?"

"He is very inventive--and athletic."

* * * *

"Is this your apartment?" Jason asked when they climbed two flights above the 23 Club. "It's very nice. Very nicely decorated."

"No. I live elsewhere. I said I had other work than the modeling. I work for a high-end escort agency. I go with men for them. If they haven't determined we would go elsewhere for sex, this apartment was available. Does that disturb you?"

"No. I have no problem with that," Jason answered.

"This is where I bring them if they don't have somewhere they want to take me. The escort agency rents it and schedules it out. I make quite a lot of money with this work. You seem so loose with this, Jason. Are you a prostitute too?"

"No. But I go with whoever I want to."

"I recruit for the agency too. The man I have called and who might be interested in driving you to Lake Como tonight is one of my bosses. His name is Giorgio. I thought that you, perhaps--"

"Would work for an escort agency?" Jason asked, and when Cristian nodded a yes, he said, "I don't think I'd want to do it for money. I take men's money to entertain me when it entertains them as well, but it would have to be my choice of men. I would want to be with the man--my choice--to be with him, not to make money from having sex with him. If he spent money on me while we were going to have sex, that would be fine. I've never really needed to make money--to open my legs to men to be able to survive and pay my bills--not that I have any problem with those who do. But the men I let fuck me is by my choice based on wanting to have sex with them."