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an original story by Andrej Koymasky


THE ODD COUPLE CHAPTER 12 - BLACKMAIL

Piggì smiled broadly as he welcomed Stefano, "Ah, here is our Steu, back from his rest! Ye look so much better. How d' ye feel?"

"In fine shape, Piggì. Thank you for everything. The house at the lake has been a paradise."

"Ye sh'd see it when it's warm and things 'r' lush! Anyway, ye'll go back there, won't ye?"

"With real pleasure."

"And... Did something happen with yer big boy?" Piggì winked slightly.

"Yes, something did..."

"Good 'r bad?"

"I really don't know, Piggì. I hope it was good."

"Do ye feel like tellin' me?"

Stefano smiled and nodded. He told Piggì what had happened and concluded, "Maurizio is nothing to me. I mean, he is a splendid male, the most beautiful I have ever seen. And, he is a very dear boy - good-hearted, tender, but he is nothing more. I can't expect anything of him. He lives in another world. At times he is so sweet - he does all he can to please me. But, he is so superficial, insensible, so much of a simpleton, so much of a... little animal."

"Oh-ho, my dear girl! Don't ye know that men 'r' all animals and all women 'r' beasts and us stars... wild beasts? Ye can't help it! Thet's life."

"Yes, possibly."

"Why not just have a little affair with him, as long as he's game?"

"I don't think so. If I could spend a night with him from time to time with no involvement, well then... perhaps so! But, he and I... We're too... It just wouldn't work."

"So, then?"

"I told him that he can come to see me here, at times. I don't want to deny him my friendship. He seems to want it... to need it - but not at my place. To avoid... Well, we will see how the situation evolves..."

"How it will evolve? Silly girl! C'd ye still be so naive at yer age? Well now, listen t' yer wise old auntie - if ye don't want t' fuck with him any more, just tell him t' get lost - not t' show up any more, t' stay far away from ye, t' disappear. If ye don't, I think ye'll fall under his spell again. Ye'll never understand what ye want from him. If instead ye want t' fuck with him, then don't be so scrupulous. Take him fer what he is and enjoy what he can give ye, 'r what he wants t' give ye, but don't become his slave. Ye sh'd neither demand nor expect from thet big boy what he cannot give ye."

"Use and dispose?" Stefano asked dazed.

"No, not really, Steu, but... Look, there's no future with someone like him. Any girl who's tried t' have a relationship with a straight man has been burned - it's a hard role t' play, that o' th' ideal straight lover! Listen to yer auntie. I've seen all kinds o' tricks in this life..."


Maurizio started to come to the Taboo regularly. He would arrive every evening just after supper and sit at a table. He would gaze only at Stefano. If somebody tried to hook him, or even just ask Maurizio if he could sit at his table, Maurizio got rid of him with a shy and sheepish smile, but with a definitely firm tone.

From time to time, Stefano would stop to chat with him for a while, especially if it was early when there were few customers. A couple of times the boy indicated that he would have liked to see him home, but Stefano always said no.


One night Stefano was taking home a boy he had met at the pub. In the street in front of his house stood Maurizio, waiting for him.

"What are you doing here?" Stefano asked tensely.

"I was waiting fer ye, but... I see thet ye already have company."

"Yes, he is going to stay with me tonight. But even if I were alone..."

"I see. I... I just want t' talk with ye. At th' pub... There's s' much confusion. I jus' want t' talk with ye... not make love... not if ye don' want t'... just talk with ye..." the boy repeated, downcast.

"Not now, Maurizio. Another time, if you want, but not now."

"Ye... Ye always say another time, but..."

"We are going to go upstairs, now, Maurizio. It's late. Go home. Ciao."

"Ciao." The boy turned away without looking at him.

Stefano pushed his friend inside the street door and shut it.

"Who's that hunk? One of your admirers?" The boy asked as they climbed the stairs.

"Yes, in a way."

"Wow! What a splendor! It would have been great to have a threesome with him."

"No it would not... Besides, he is not that good in bed."

"For one like him, all could be forgiven..."

Somewhat annoyed, Stefano said, "Well if you like him so much, why don't you just run after him and do with him as you please!"

"Oh, I'm sorry! I was just talking... You seem pretty touchy tonight!"

"Don't worry. Please. It's nothing... It's just that he... He hounds me. I can't get rid of him."

"Well, I'd never even try to get rid of him, if I were you. No, wait! There I go again, I'm sorry! Please don't get mad again. Let's just stop talking about that stud and talk about us, okay?"

"Yes, that would be better," Stefano answered, as he showed the boy into his apartment.


The next morning, Stefano awoke to find his guest's slippery mouth sliding up and down on his erect member. He looked at the alarm clock. "Hey, it's just seven a.m.! We've only slept for three hours!" the man protested. But then he settled back to appreciate those magnificent, unsought ministrations.

"Just the right time to enjoy one last session before I have to go. Does that bother you?"

"No..." the man answered, smiling and surrendering to the feelings mounting in his loins.

"But..." the boy said with a coy look as Stefano started to masturbate him, "... this time I also want you to take my little ass. Okay?"

"More than willingly, you little pig!" Stefano answered with a chuckle, breaking their French kiss.

Soon the boy lay on his belly, lifting his hips in offering to the man. He greedily welcomed Stefano's hard phallus into himself and turned his head around so that they could continue their French kiss. Stefano gave the boy a lusty fuck, no longer feeling tired from his short sleep.

The boy writhed under him, moaning, "God, that's great! You make me really feel like a big pig! Yes... more... go on... harder!"

Stefano thought in confusion, "Here this boy makes me feel so desired, he happily gives himself to me... that's why he is better than Maurizio..." as he slid in and out of the boy's hot channel.

Stefano finished with gusto, then they showered quickly to freshen themselves. The man put on his robe as the boy got dressed.

"Do you want some breakfast before you leave?"

"No, thanks," the boy said, checking his watch. "I have just enough time to catch the train."

"Well then, I hope you'll come to see me when come through Turin again?"

"You can bet on it!" the boy answered and kissed him.

Stefano opened the door and the boy started to go out, but then exclaimed, "What the..." as he stopped short.

Stefano looked into the hallway. There, with his legs stretched out in front of the door and leaning back against the wall, sat Maurizio, asleep.

The boy stepped over Maurizio's legs and turned to look. "He slept out here the whole time..." he muttered, shaking his head and grinning.

Stefano bent down and touched the sleeping boy on the shoulder. Maurizio opened his eyes and, recognizing the man, grinned sheepishly. "I fell asleep..."

"What are you doing here? Why did you spend the night out here?"

"I was waiting fer ye... Until ye were..."

The guest glanced at his watch again and said, "Well I have to run. Ciao, Stefano. See you soon, I hope." He rushed down the stairs two at a time.

Maurizio watched him, then stood up, "C'n I come in now?" he asked, crestfallen.

Stefano moved aside to let him enter. Then, shutting the door, he asked with irritation, "What if one of the neighbors had come by? Are you out of your mind?"

"I didn' think about thet. Sorry... But I don' think anybody passed. And, I really need t' talk with ye..."

"Come into the kitchen. I'll fix breakfast. And anyway - you have to go to work."

"I don' give a shit 'bout work. I need t' talk with ye."

"All right. Finally I was able to get the telephone installed - if you want, you can call them to say that you'll be late. It might be better then."

"Can ye call 'em... Tell 'em I'm sick and can't come in today..." Maurizio said.

"All right," Stefano sighed. "Dial the number then give me the receiver."


They ate breakfast in silence. Then Maurizio said, "Stefano, I can't speak well like ye do, but... will ye listen t' me?"

"Yes... Go ahead." said the man patiently.

"Stefano, I think I love ye. Really. Not just half o' ye, as ye say. I love all o' ye... An' I love yer body... An' I love yer... cock." He blushed deeply.

"No, Maurizio..."

"No. Ye said ye'd listen t' me..." the boy begged.

"Yes I did, I'm sorry. Go on."

"Well, I know I been a failure. But it's just thet I'm not used t' it... It was my first time. I want t' try again. Gimme th' time t' learn... t' get good at it, t'... I want t' give ye th' pleasure and th' happiness thet ye give me. And it's not just feelin' good, it's real happiness. Sure, I know I'm not smart like ye are, I ain't worth much. I have my body t' offer ye... And, all o' my love, now thet I know thet sex is beautiful, a lot more beautiful when it includes love. Don' chase me away, Stefano... Please..."

The man was moved. He wanted to hug that big boy... to kiss him... but he knew it would be wrong.

"You're straight, Maurizio. Look... Forget me. Find a woman."

"But why a woman when I have ye now?"

"Because I am a man."

"But... I... Want... Ye."

"Listen, Maurizio. Would you try to do it with another man, what you want to do with me? Would you?"

"No! For sure, no!"

"Exactly, you see? If you really liked... men... cock... you'd also do it with another, wouldn't you?"

"No, not with any other. But with ye, yers, yes... because it's yers. How is it thet a smart, ol' man like ye don't understand this?"

"Yes, you're right there, I'm old - I'm twice your age..."

"No, I didn' want t' say thet! Oh shit! How w'd ye say? Experienced man? Thet is, not old. Ye ain't old. Inside, yer younger than a lot o' kids."

"Maurizio, you are so very sweet, and good-hearted, and simple. I prize this in you. You are also the most gorgeous man I ever met... got to know... and I like this, too. But there is no sense in you trying to.... Make efforts for love. Love between two men, or even between two people, should not require effort. It has to come spontaneously, naturally, without effort..."

Maurizio reflected intensely, then his eyes lit up, "No! This time yer wrong, Stefano, an' I'm right. Ye know thet t' me... I like karate very much, don't ye?"

"Yes, I know, you told me."

"So we c'd say thet I love karate. And I do it without effort, as ye say. It comes naturally."

"Exactly."

"Exactly. But how much 'effort' did it take for me t' get there? How many falls? How many failures? How much work? And yet I love it, don't I? But even now thet it comes s' natural t' me, I have still t' be careful, an' always train... An' I accepted all thet because from th' beginning I loved it... And I kept at it. So then, why couldn't it be th' same with love? Ye... I'm sorry to bring up th' subject of yer Carlo, but... in those twenty years ye spent with him, ye never had t' make any effort t' love him, at least sometimes? It was always simple and natural and spontaneous?"

"Well, no... not always."

"But it didn' seem wrong t' ye if sometimes ye, 'r Carlo, had t' make an effort t' continue t' love each other, right?"

Stefano looked at him with admiration. Although not completely convinced, he was touched by the boy's logic.

"So what harm c'n there be if I... I want t' make an effort t' learn t' make ye happy? T' give ye pleasure? I don't have t' work t' love ye, do I? No, 'cause I already love ye. All right, maybe I'm not as good at it like... like thet boy thet left a little while ago. But even he had t' learn from somebody, didn't he? Even ye who are s' good, had t' learn, didn't ye?"

"Yes, that's right..."

"So, why won't ye let me learn? Why won't ye give me another chance? Why?"

"I... I don't want to make you into a gay man. I can't. You are straight; you'll never be gay."

"Y'know, once ye scolded me 'cause I was making these distinctions. Ye said, when I disliked those men at th' pub, thet a human being is a human being an' not a fag 'r a straight. And now it's ye who insist on making these distinctions? T' discriminate? Can't we just be we two, two human beings, just Stefano 'n' Maurizio, without sticking labels on us?"

"But the fact remains that you're not attracted to males - and, that I don't need a straight man for a lover..."

"I'm attracted t' ye, Stefano, not just t' males. Ye could need me, not jus' a straight boy, isn't thet so?"

"I don't know..."

"Why don' ye think about thet, Stefano? I'm... going t' go now, and I'll think about it some more, too. But ye think about it, too, please. Ye... yer makin' me discover a whole new taste o' life, and... so don' throw away everything, please? I need ye and... well... I hope thet ye too could need me. I know ye like me, I c'n feel it. An' not only fer m' body, it seems t' me. If ye only liked m' body, ye'd treat me like I treated those girls... Hev a nice quick fuck, and then kiss g'bye... Just a quick cum. And this, mainly 'cause in bed I didn't give ye as much as ye wanted. Instead, ye gave me s' much tenderness, and always accepted mine, and... Or did I get it all wrong again?"

"I don't know... I just don't know..." Stefano repeated, more and more perplexed and insecure.

Maurizio could feel the man's insecurity but didn't try to take advantage of it. He stood up. "Thank ye fer listening t' me, Stefano. Now think about it. I'll leave ye in peace, if ye want... I won't even come t' th' pub again. I'll call ye in a few days... is this all right?"

"Yes..."

Maurizio gave him a light kiss on the forehead and went to the door. Stefano heard it close lightly and remained seated still, trembling slightly.


Five days passed. Stefano grew more and more confused.

Tuesday was his day off from the pub. He had just finished his supper when the doorbell rang. He wondered if it might be Maurizio. But the boy had said he would call. Maybe it was Piggì. He went to the door and on opening it, saw a young man - lean, dark brown hair with a copper tint. At first, he didn't recognize him.

The other smiled - with a cold, formal, air. "May I come in?" he asked.

"What?"

"I'm Renato. Don't ye remember me?"

Stefano's heart skipped a beat. "Ah, yes... Maurizio's friend. Come in, please."

The young man stayed where he was. "No formalities, Daddy. Ye c'd be my dad, couldn't ye? Aren't ye in yer fifties?"

Stefano didn't like his tone, "What do you want?" he asked brusquely.

"Here in th' corridor? Wouldn't it be better in there? Guests 're received in th' living room, aren't they? Or even in th' bedroom here at yer place?" The young man spoke as he strode past the man into the living room before Stefano could even answer.

"I feel right at home here. I brought up all o' yer furniture. Don't ye remember?"

Stefano looked at him with growing contempt. The young man sat at the table, pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

"What do you want?" Stefano demanded again.

"T' talk - just t' talk - 'bout Maurizio. D' ye know thet ye made quite an impression on his ol' lady? Maurizio is Natalina's preferred son, didn' ye know? Th' other sons and daughters 're okay, of course, but they married and went away and had children, if I'm right. But Maurizio stayed with her, so he is her preferred son. Now, he's not th' cleverest guy in th' world, but he's a good boy - yeh, a good boy. An' his mother is proud thet he found a rich, old, smart guy like ye - even if ye can't give him what I did. But it seems thet this ain't all thet clear t' her, or t' her son..."

"Oh no? What can you give him? Some little girl to fuck with the risk of going to jail?"

"Oh, oh... m' friend! I came here t' talk as friends, not t' hear ye preach! I'm here fer poor Maurizio, not fer me..."

"Poor Maurizio? You came here only to get him back, because you worry that he's slipping out of your hands, because he might not continue to fork out money for your dirty sex..."

"I came here because ye're makin' him into a fucked-up, shitty fag like ye. That's why I came here!" Renato spat with a grimace of disgust, fiercely snorting out his cigarette smoke.

"In other words, Maurizio has to chose between us? A really great choice, isn't it? A fag or a child molester. Poor Maurizio! But I, at least, have always tried to keep him away from me, not to ensnare him, not to put him on a leash. Why don't you let him choose freely for himself? Are you scared to lose him?"

"No, I don' worry thet somebody c'd give 'im more than me. And I'm not afraid of any competition from an old fag wit' a sloppy ass - no! It's just that Maurizio's gone crazy 'cause o' ye. Fer sure, yer some kind o' wizard! Money fer th' mother while ye fuck her son!"

"Get out of here, now! At once! Out of my house!" Stefano cried vehemently.

"No... no, Daddy. I'm not through. All right... Right now maybe he's crazy about ye. But Maurizio was no fag before he met ye, I know thet!" Renato said as he stood and drew on his cigarette.

"Neither was he a child molester before he met you!" Stefano answered him sharply. "Anyway Maurizio is not and never will be gay. When he gets over his infatuation, he'll forget me. He'll marry, have a family. And I'll be glad for him."

Renato burst into laughter and mashed his cigarette into the ashtray.

"Then let me tell ye somethin', ye poor old fag. Ye think yer so smart? Well Maurizio is a fag - he's a fag from head t' toe - because o' ye. Ye really know it all don' ye! Yer a real professor. S' guess what happened Friday? After he came t' talk wit' ye thet mornin', he came t' th' disco wit' me. After a while, I hooked two chicks, one fifteen th' other fourteen. Th' fourteen-year-old was almost a virgin. I was only her second man. Anyway, she was fresh meat. We took 'em t' our garage and I fucked both of 'em but he... he didn' do nothin'. He couldn' even get a hard-on! Nothin', d' ye understand? He couldn' even get it up! So Saturday he comes t' th' disco again and tells me thet if I find a chick, he'll go home - he don' want t' come wit' me t' th' garage.

"So I'm his friend, right? I tell him no, it's either both of us 'r neither of us. So we went back t' th' garage, jus' us two. An' we lie down t' talk and he tells me thet all he c'n think about is ye! So I ask him, what do ye two do in bed thet's s' great? And he tells me everythin'. In detail. So I say, 'Shit, friend, th' way ye tell it, it must really be great!'"

At this, Renato opened his fly, pulled out his half-hard penis and started to stroke it slowly. Then he continued, "... so I started t' beat it like this, and Maurizio glanced at it. He thought I didn' see 'im lookin'. But I saw enough, so I told him, 'Go on, Maurizio...' And d' ye know what he does? Ye won' believe it! Without a word, he goes down on it - he takes all o' it int' his mouth, all o' it, man! Right down his throat! He swallows it like a cheap whore. And he wasn' bad, fer a beginner. He sucked it all th' way - with his mouth... up and down... m' whole dick! Yer really some teacher! An' then he takes all o' my come. T' th' last drop! And he didn' puke it out like he did wit' ye! Anyway fer sure yer a master, aren' ye? Go on, show me how good ye c'n give head, suck mine now. See how big it is? Lots bigger than Maurizio's, ain' it? Mebbe if ye make it feel good, I'll come back here again for another blowjob... Suck it, ol' fag, gwan..."

Stefano was furious, "If you don't put it back in your trousers right now, I'll kick it back in for you!" he shouted.

"Oh, oh! S' yer gonna get tough on me... What's this? Yer scared ye can't make me int' a fag like Maurizio?" he challenged, as he tucked in his penis and zipped up his pants.

"Maurizio is no fag!" Stefano shouted.

"Ah really? But he sucked mine, and swallowed it all!"

"Just because he thought you were his friend..."

"Ye think so, but yer wrong! He said so his self - 'Cause we're friends, please don' tell anybody'... Then he says t' me, 'I dunno if I'm a fag 'r not.' So just t' help 'im understand, I go out t' look fer a hustler on Sunday an' take him t' Maurizio. He's a Brazilian boy, ye know, one o' those who cruise on Cavalli Street. But then, ye probably know all of 'em, don't ye? I pay him an' tell him he has t' get my friend t' understan' if he's a fag 'r not. So we go t' th' garage. An' Maurizio does it again, wit' th' Brazilian... again... he swallows it all... right before m' eyes. An' Maurizio likes it. He swallows everythin', d' ye understan'? Three times! Wit' th' Brazilian! And then, when th' Brazilian leaves, Maurizio begs me t' let 'im gimme head again. It still wasn' enough fer him! He begs me, d' ye understan'? He hadn' yet had enough - like an addict. He takes it all int' his throat, an' makes me feel s' good! All inside. An' he swallows it all. An' ye says he's no fag? An' then..."

"Stop it!" Stefano said upset at the savage joy he could see in the other's eyes. "Stop it! I don't believe a single word of what you say! You are just a dirty bastard!"

"Ye think so? A bastard, maybe. But not as dirty as ye are, ye ol' fag. Ye don' believe me? Then look... Look at these pictures. I shot 'em. Maurizio with th' Brazilian, look!" Renato said, poison in his voice, pulling some Polaroid pictures from his pocket.

Stefano could see that it was true. One was clearly Maurizio - naked, and with an erect phallus between his lips... Stefano trembled violently and a voice somewhere inside him screamed, 'Why, Maurizio? Why? Why?' But outwardly, in a surprisingly calm voice, while Renato put the pictures on the table, he asked, "Why did you shoot these... these pictures?"

"Why? Because now, I have both o' ye in m' hands. Ye gimme th' money thet Maurizio don't want t' gimme any more, once a week, it would be enough - a hundred, a hundred and fifty thousand liras, and ye give me head each and every time I come t' get th' money, and then ye c'n keep Maurizio all fer yerself. If ye don't, I'll show these pictures t' his mother, t' our friends, at work... and I'll ruin him. It seems t' me thet I am honest, no? A blow job and some money each week, in exchange for Maurizio? Don' tell me he ain' worth thet..."

Stefano looked at him - amazed, nauseated, furious. "You are not worth even a single hair on Maurizio. And you can shove those pictures up your ass! If you want to ruin that boy, you're worse than a fucking, filthy bastard! But you'll never get anything from me... Nothing! Do you understand? Nor from Maurizio, I'm sure! Now, get out of here! Out of here!" Stefano shouted.

"No... Maurizio'll do anythin' I want t' keep me from showin' these pictures around. Thanks t' ye, thet little fag's in my hands, now. I won, after all. It'll be Maurizio t' give me head whenever I'm horny. And he'll also pay fer th' garage. An' ye'll lose him!" Renato shouted triumphantly, turning towards the door.

Just then the doorbell rang - three, four times, with urgency. Stefano hurried to open the door as Renato pocketed the Polaroids.

"Stefano, what's happening?" Maurizio asked, eyes wide with alarm. "I heard shouts..." He came into the apartment then froze as he saw Renato before him. "Ye here? What th' hell 're ye doin' here?"

"I was leavin'..."

Maurizio looked at Stefano, "Is everything all right?" he asked with worry.

"I think so..." the man answered, trembling.

"No... No it is not." Maurizio said in a low voice and seized Renato's arm. "Why did ye come here?"

"Just t' talk wit' him..." Rernato said, smiling indifferently.

"Why were ye shoutin'? What did ye tell him?" Maurizio asked squeezing his colleague's arm strongly and almost drawing him back into the living room.

"Jus' th' truth. What ye did wit' me and with thet hustler in our garage."

Maurizio looked at him in fury.

Renato continued, "I had t' tell him, Mauri. He's tryin' t' make ye int' a fag. I had t' stop him at any cost. I had t' threaten him fer yer sake..."

"Shut up!" Maurizio yelled, then turned towards Stefano and quietly asked him, "Tell me what he came to do."

"Nothing. He proposed a business deal to me - that I give him one hundred and fifty per week and give him head, so I can keep you, or he will show the pictures with you and the hustler to your mother, and around at work..."

"That's why ye wanted t' shoot those pictures? Ye filthy pig... Ye bastard full o' shit! But Stefano... ye didn' accept, did ye?"

"Of course I did not..." the man answered, as he beheld the boy's wrath in fascination... how his fury made him even more beautiful.

Renato said, "It's not so. This ol' man gimme th' money and took th' pictures. He bought ye..."

"Liar! I don' believe ye! Stefano don' kiss 'n' tell. Gimme th' pictures, now!"

"I don' have 'em... I..."

Maurizio barely moved and Renato flew to the floor. In that same moment, Maurizio was on him, "Gimme th' pictures! Now!"

Renato tried to struggle, but Maurizio's skill and fury quickly got the better of him. Seizing the other's trousers by a pocket, Maurizio pulled violently until they tore and all the contents spilled out - first one, then the other. He grabbed the pictures and handed them to Stefano. Then he started to slap and punch Renato repeatedly, beating him methodically and skillfully.

Stefano, clutching the pictures, cried, "Stop it, Maurizio, let him go..."

"Not yet."

"Don't overdo it, Maurizio..."

"I know how much I have to give him." The boy coldly answered, continuing to thrash the other methodically. Short, measured strokes, just on certain parts of his body. Methodic, cold, calculating.

Stefano was at once fascinated and scared, "Stop it, Maurizio, please. Just make him leave..."

Maurizio stopped, looked up at Stefano, and saw the plea in his eyes. Then he stood up and bodily lifted Renato, who was inert with terror. He took him to the stairs and threw him onto the landing like a sack of potatoes.

"I'll count t' three, and if ye don' disappear..."

Renato stood up, pale, trembling, and stammered, "I... I'll report ye, Mauri. Ye'll pay for this..."

"Go ahead - go t' th' police. They won't find a mark on ye. So ye cannot report me. B'sides thet, if ye try t' report me, I'll turn ye in fer all th' minor girls we fucked. So we'll both go t' jail together. An' then I'll trash ye every single day like I did jus' now. And Stefano won't be there t' stop me. Now I'm countin' - one... two..."

Renato turned and ran headlong down the stairs. Maurizio turned towards Stefano, who was at the door, and said, almost shyly, "May I come in? Can we talk?"

"Yes, sure, Maurizio... We have to talk."


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