The Glass House Ch. 04

Cosmo was luscious, certainly, but it was a shock to me to see the sexual dynamics of Dante's household unravel in such a short time. I couldn't pretend that Dante hadn't warned me that this was how life was in his Italian household, but I had been pretending it wasn't that raw--and arousing.

Dante had the young man in a close embrace and he was fucking him hard and deep. I was standing in the room's doorway. I should have just turned and walked away, but the tableau was mesmerizing and it struck me in the zone of desire that I had harbored, mostly without fulfillment, since I had been a student at Oxford. I didn't turn and walk away. I remained and ran my hand under the waistband of the casual sweatpants I was wearing. I stroked myself, moving into the same rhythm as Dante was achieving with the stroking of his shaft in the hole of the sweet, young houseboy.

I was noticed, as was inevitable. Cosmo gave me a glazed-over gaze of being taken fully and well, and Dante gave me a satisfied smile. Dante lifted an arm from under the bound young man, where he had been jacking Cosmo off, the other arm embracing the boy's belly to hold him firmly in place. With his now-free hand, Dante motioned to me. And when I didn't react, he said, "Come, join us. We'll share the lad."

I leaned forward, ready to take a step toward the bed, but I just couldn't do it. Then, and only then, I turned and fled back to my room.

I did have an opportunity to discuss my set plans for his opera with Dante as we drove the hour-and-a-half trip south to Milan from the lake, and he did assure me that the sketches as I had them were fine and any later changes would be fine too. What we didn't discuss was Dante fucking his boytoy and houseboys or the prospect, as he had been teasing me to do, that I would mount all three of them too. I'd already fucked his amante maschile--his twenty-one-year-old male lover. It certainly wouldn't be any big deal with him for me to fucking his eighteen-year-old houseboys as well.

I had no intention, of course, to do that. I didn't want to indulge in a fetish here that I would have to give up again when I returned to the States. It didn't help, though, that Dante's financial backers were so pleased by my sketches and the plans for being able to realize impressive-image sets at a very reasonable cost that Dante renewed his bid as we motored back to Lake Como well after midnight and far too much liquor for me just to remain in Italy after this opera was set up and to work with him permanently. The evening had been exhilarating, but it also had been exhausting. Dante's wheedling of me during the drive back to the lake only added to the exhaustion. I couldn't--and didn't--make any commitment to him. I closed down on further discussion, turned down his offer of a nightcap once we'd gotten to The Glass House, stumbled to my bedroom, stripped, showered in the en-suite bath, and fell onto the bed and into a deep sleep.

I became half conscious in the night, feeling in heat, brought on by what I thought was a wet dream, one that relived my encounter with Renzo at the villa's pool the previous afternoon. It wasn't Renzo, though, and it wasn't just a solo wet dream. I became more conscious and moved into the realization that I was on my back and Vincent, the houseboy, was saddled on my pelvis, sheathing my cock, his palms pressed to my pectorals and his fingers playing with my nipples as he rose and fell on my shaft. He already was sheathed and we already were fucking when I became fully aware of it. I didn't resist it. With a sigh, I grasped the young man's narrow waist between my hands and lifted and settled him on my cock, fucking him deep and, as I became more awake, more vigorous as he writhed on top of me and vocalized what he obviously meant to be taken as ecstasy, but lost on me as he was vocalizing in Italian.

We finished, nearly together, and the young man rolled off to the side, still in my embrace, and we both drifted off to sleep. Later in the night, I felt his hands roaming my body and centering on my cock, successfully working me into an erection again. It was dark and we were seeing each other with our hands and bodies more than our eyes. He had moved to the other side of me--or so I thought. I rolled over on top of him and touched his inner thighs on both sides. He spread his legs for me immediately, dug his heels into the mattress, and raised his tail, rolling his pelvis up to me, offering me his puckered hole and channel. I accepted the offer, crouching between his thighs, penetrating and fucking him.

Vincent had not moved to the other side of me, though. The other, eighteen-year-old houseboy, Cosmo, had come into my bed and coaxed me to fuck him as well, which I had done, not realizing there were two young men in my bed. There were, however, two older teenaged boys in my bed, and they were both demanding and competitive. We fucked all night. I didn't hold back. Once the die had been cast, I gave up to lust and want and fucked them and fucked them and fucked them.

The houseboys left me, but not until nearly dawn. They had work to do, and I was so exhausted that I couldn't move a muscle and just lay there, looking toward the calm waters of Lake Como through the French doors out onto the terrace, watching the sun rise over the water.

When I stumbled into breakfast, all four men of the household were grinning. The houseboys were humming and seemed fresh as they could be. Both Dante and Renzo were giving me knowing looks. They obviously knew the houseboys had spent the night in my bed and had drained me. I had every reason to believe that they had planned it--or that Dante, at least, had done so.

"So?" Dante asked me. Just that word, but we both knew what he was asking me.

"If this opera works out well, I suppose I can stay longer and see how other collaborations work out," I said.

"Splendid," Dante said.

"I was thinking of taking a swim in the pool after breakfast," Renzo said, giving me a meaningful look. "I would not like to swim alone, though, and Dante has meetings to attend to in Milan."

"Will I be--?"

"They don't concern you and they would only bore you, I'm sure," Dante said.

"I like to swim nude," Renzo said.

I couldn't help but smile. "I've noticed," I said.

"I want to be fucked in the pool," Renzo said.

I turned to look into Dante's face. He just smiled and shrugged.

"That can be arranged," I turned back to Renzo and responded.

"I think I'm going to enjoy this collaboration of you and Julian," Renzo said to Dante. "Do you suppose you could both--?"

"That can be arranged," Dante said.

"Together. At once?"

"Of course. We've done it before. Memories of Bournemouth, eh, Julian? Such a sweet young man."

I wasn't asked if I was interested. But I had surrendered my all to fate. I had no need any longer to be consulted.