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an original story by Andrej Koymasky


RICARDO CHAPTER 10 - GABRIELE

I also had a crush on Gabriele.

Gabriele is a designer. When I had met him, four years ago, he was flirting with Paola. He was twenty-three and Paola was twenty-two. They were friends of Carlo and Silvia; I met them at Carlo's place on a new years eve. I didn't like Paola, but I liked Gabriele a lot and I don't say just physically.

Well, physically he's a real hunk. He made me think of Brad Pitt in his role of the next-door good boy. And I like Brad Pitt a great deal. She is the kind Mia Farrow in "September" but physically duller and more aggressive and selfish. I asked myself what a guy like Gabriele could find in somebody like Paola. That's not because I don't appreciate women - beside women like Silvia, my sister in law Tana, Roberta, and also my nieces Marta and Gemma, are women whom I can see why a man can be in love with them, appreciate them both physically than, some more some less, for their character and personality.

But Paola... I don't want to speak evil of her. She never was nasty to me. She isn't negative with anybody, but with Gabriele. Already on the first time I met them, I got to know them, I felt they were a wrong couple, even though he seemed to have a crush on her. What love does to us men! He makes us deaf, blind, and paralytic! Well, no... at times love also gives us eyes that makes us able to see what nobody else is able to see. I can't say that love treated me badly, at least for what concerns my Ricardo. I met Ricardo for the first time a little after I had met Gabriele for the first time.

Back to Gabriele - he fascinated me. I think that he too liked me for, on January third, he called me telling he had had a real pleasure having met me, and invited me to drop in on him and to help him in eating some sweets. His apartment was really a designer's apartment, full of beautiful, interesting things and of drawing equipment, colours, and samples in a kind of artistic disorder... or in casual order, I can't say.

I asked him to show me some of his works - they were really interesting and beautiful. He was proud of them and yet he didn't boast. He was simply satisfied with his work. Then we talked of Carlo and Silvia - he too liked them very much.

"To be a manager and so young, he is twice exceptional." Gabriele said with clear admiration, "And Silvia is an extraordinary woman. They really are a beautiful couple. They don't resemble Paola and me..." and he confided to me that he was somewhat in a crisis with his girlfriend. "We have been together for four years, and yet it is like as if we don't still know each other." he said.

They were problems of characters, I understood. On one side I was feeling in me the desire to tell him to let her go, but he was so much in love that I kept silent, and I was rather careful to say nothing negative about her. Moreover I still didn't really know them.

Anyway, I was pleased he wanted to open his heart to me. I understood he invited me because he needed to talk, to talk to someone about it.

"Are you alone?" he asked me at a certain point.

In the New Year's eve, I told them I am gay, therefore I didn't need to pretend.

"At present I am. My relationship of five years did just end recently."

"Are you suffering from it?" he asked.

"Not so much." I answered with a smile, and I told him about Sandro and me.

He listened at me with a clear liking. "You seem to be a smart guy; you will surely find the right boy." he said.

That was the beginning of our confidences and of our friendship. The more I got to know him, the more I was convinced that he was wasting his time on Paola. And I was also sure their relationship wasn't meant to last, in spite of his patience and love. A one-sided love is never enough.

He slowly opened to me and I soon discovered that at least a big part of the problems was due to their physical relationship. When they met, she was just twenty years old and she had already had three flings with men, while for Gabriele it was the first serious relationship. I could read, between the lines, that it had been her who had ensnared him. And it was she who raised problems in their relationship.

This, a part of the fact that he wanted to marry her, or at least live with her, but she didn't want, "No, I'm young, I still want to be free!" she protested.

Bed problems. She didn't want to get pregnant, and all right for that, but she didn't want him to use the condom, therefore she took the pill. And all right for this too. But at times she forgot to take the pill and so she wanted him, just before to come, pulled out and came out of her. And if he wasn't ready, if she doubted that a drop of seed came out before, it was tragedy - she assailed, abused him so that the intercourse, that had already been somewhat tense, became to him frustrating.

She made him feel guilty, "Anyway, it's not you who risks getting pregnant and then have abortion!" she yelled.

And one!

At times, then, she aroused him caressing him under his trousers, biting his nipples through his shirt, forbidding him to undress himself or her, but keeping awake his excitment for hours.

When finally he, at the limit of his resistance, proposed, "Come into the other room, let's go on the bed." she suddenly stopped everything calling him a dirty pig.

"You think only of that, only to screw!" she said icy and went away leaving him with his yen, so that then the poor Gabriele had to masturbate by himself.

And two!

It was not always so - it seemed that at times she gave him full satisfaction and then Gabriele was feeling like touching heaven with a finger.

"Paola is really sexy, she knows how to do. She is able to light me like a match, I swear. And she knows how much I like, well... how much I like it with the mouth and then she makes me die with pleasure. Provided I don't ask her to do it, or else she tells me I am just a filthy lecher and she is not a cocksucker on demand. In fact I never ask her... I have only to let her have her way and everything is all right, even though at times it's not so easy."

And three!

All these things came out little by little, and with toil. But I am evidently a good listener, because it was becoming gradually easier for him to open his heart to me. We were meeting quite often - we went to the disco with Paola and other friends, or at the place of one or another of them, or else I went to Gabriele's home and then, as we normally were alone, he could get a load off his chest.

It was one year that we knew each other. I had a date with him - I had to meet at his place and then to go together to the movies. When I went to his place, I found him at rock bottom, shattered. I asked him what happened - Paola had just decided to break up with him and just left his apartment after giving him the news. Just so, out of the blue. He asked her the reason, and she answered that she simply grew bored with him, because he was a selfish person, a male chauvinist, a phallocrat and more bullocks like these. In other terms she didn't give him a real reason.

"Do you mind if we don't go to the movies? If we stay at home?" he asked me.

"Of course not!" I answered him, worried at seeing him in that condition.

He suddenly burst in such sorrowful sobs, so desperate that made me feel hurt. I felt I hated Paola, I who never hated anybody. Instinctively I embraced him, lightly patting him on his back, trying to soothe him. He clung on me, leaned his face on my shoulder and cried. All his body was shaken by sobs. I caressed him. He was trembling. His legs seemed to yield and I tried to hold him up. We fell on the sofa, he on top of me. I hugged him.

"Calm down, Gabriele, calm down..." I whispered him asking my self what I could do for him.

I leaned my cheek on his, wet with tears, and went on whispering into his ear, "Gabriele... Gabriele..." and with a hand I caressed his other cheek drying his tears, feeling his shaved and yet strong beard.

He seemed to become calm, and gradually his sobs were slowing down, near stopping, but his body trembled strongly. I hugged him tighter; he hugged me strongly. Then, parting my cheek from his, I turned to look at him and at the same time he too turned his head towards me, our eyes met, our lips met and he kissed me on the mouth, with the eagerness of a thirsty man. I instinctively answered his kiss, and he lit up like a match, and I as well.

His hands started to unbutton my shirt with feverish moves, almost tearing it away, and I was telling mysely that I shouldn't, I had to get out, that I had to stop him, gently but firmly, but I was totally unable.

I instead went down to open his belt and he moved a little his body up from mine enough to let me do it, while his tongue was going on playing with mine and his warm, gentle hands were on my bare back. His trouser, now open, slipped down at halfway and his hands started to bustle about on my trousers and I had to help him because he couldn't get them open. Then he seized together my open trousers and underpants and pushed them down to my knees and then tugged them totally off leaving me completely naked, lying on the sofa and incredibly aroused. He stood up, and quickly freed himself from his clothes.

God how beautiful he was, so aroused and shuddering! He came on top of me, totally naked, his body on mine, embraced me and kissed me again, full of greed. I was subdued, breathless and happy. He wanted me! He was seeking solace in my body and I was glad to give it to him, he was searching for pleasure with me, and I was happy to give it. He brushed his body against mine and I could feel his virility searching for me. I then slowly moved my legs apart and guided him into me. He took me with a mixture of anguish and tenderness, of vigour and confidence, of greed and gratefulness...

Afterwards he lay on top of me, panting, trembling and started again to kiss me deeply, caressing my sides. Until both of us calmed down, and my heart stopped banging the bass drum. And I waited, my heart in my mouth, for what he would say, for how he would behave now that he was resuming his full self-control.

He parted from me, stood up, stretched a hand towards me and said, with a low voice, almost in a whisper, "Are you coming to wash?" and he lead me to the shower.

We washed in silence, close but each by himself. We dried and went back to the living room. I bent down to pick up my clothes, but he took them away from my hands with gentle determination and said, "Not yet. Come into the other room, we have to talk."

He made me lie down on his bed and he then also lay down beside me encircling my shoulders with an arm so that I could lean my head on his shoulder, and he said, "There will not be an encore, but I wanted to thank you. I needed it. I hope I didn't hurt you."

I made a blunder and as a dumb man answered, "No, I'm used to it."

He gave a small giggle and hugged me briefly, "No, I wasn't saying in that sense. I hope I didn't light in you impossible hopes, just to give vent to my needs. But I really needed it. No, I don't mean to screw, but to feel welcomed, and you make me feel so. But I wouldn't be able to give you what you need. I have been selfish, and I wanted to ask you to forgive me, before going back there and wear our clothes. Clothes make us become formal; on the contrary when we are naked we are true. Can you understand me?"

"Yes." I whispered.

"And... can you forgive me?"

"Of course. I'm your friend, you know it."

"Anyway, it has been good, and not only for the orgasm..." he started to say.

"I too enjoyed it, besides the good orgasm." I interrupted him.

"... but also because you really welcomed me." be concluded.

I caressed the hand he had on my shoulder, without saying anything.

We remained so for some minutes, both in silence.

He then asked, lightly, "Let's go dress?"

"Yes, sure." I answered.

We wore our clothes quietly, looking at each other and exchanging smiles. Yes, I knew that there would not be an encore, and anyway I felt happy, really happy. Not only because I now saw he was more relaxed, but for the intimacy he gave to me. I too was feeling a little bit selfish.

Later, when he came to know about Ricardo and me, he was happy. He wanted to meet him, therefore he invited us to his place. He had bought everything at a restaurant, but he wanted us to eat in his apartment to be free, in intimacy. "So, if you feel like exchanging a kiss or embrace each other, at my place you can do it without problems." he explained.

Afterward he told me that he though that Ricardo was a wonderful boy and he hoped we could be happy together.

"Did you succeed in erasing Paola from your head?"

"I'm succeeding."

"Good Lord, but three years are gone!" I said, astounded.

"I loved her, in spite of everything."

"But, Gabriele... you can't let anybody walk all over on you. Find a good girl, sweet and gentle. There are plenty, around..."

"It seems I'm doomed to fall in love with the wrong girls. I'm thirty years old and I couldn't yet find the right one."

"When I found my Ricardo I was forty-five; don't give up hope." I told him.

"If I had liked men, I would have liked to be your boyfriend..."

"Three years ago I too would have liked that, but not today, as you know."

"You really would have liked to be with me?"

"Yes. In spite you are so complicated, I like you a lot. You are one of my best friends." I told him.

"Possibly, after all, towards our friends of our same sex there is, well hidden, also some sexual desire, even though we don't admit it." he said, then added, "Do you know, I think that you and I are, after all, wrong."

"Wrong?" I asked, curious.

"Yes. I can't conceive having a relationship with a man, not even as smart as you are, and you can't conceive to unite with a woman, as smart as she could be. We should possibly be able to fall in love with the person, more than with his or her sex..."


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