His Beautiful Boy - 5. 1986

"Passa la palla, Lorenzo!" One of the jocks shouted from the other side of the courtyard as Lorenzo stood still, the football under one of his feet, his eyes transfixed as a large and expensive black car drove down the old stone road into a small town somewhere in Italy.

"Continua così. Tornerò." Lorenzo hollered, kicking the ball back over to the other players and sprinting through the quad as he gave chase to the car.

Not much happened in his hometown, so pursuing a mysterious car seemed as good as it could get for young Lorenzo as he spent one more summer playing football with his friends and hooking up with the local girls. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to do around town, and Lorenzo's curiosity motivated him to fight his boredom. As he ran towards the large car, which wasn't going particularly fast, he couldn't help but notice it seemed to be heading to his grandmother's house.

She raised Lorenzo since he was a baby. His mother had left when he was very young, or so he heard. His grandmother wasn't prone to bring the subject up very often. Despite the circumstances, and though he had always wondered who his parents were and why they left him behind, Lorenzo had grown into an exceptionally bright, kind, and breathtakingly stunning boy. As far as the town's small population of 334 people was concerned, Lorenzo was the most beautiful boy there. Every guy wanted to be him, and every woman wanted to have him. Even then, Lorenzo was humble. But every night, he would sit on the stone wall by the dock facing the ocean on the town square, and his heart would dream of a life outside the boundaries of his hometown. He always felt his life deserved more than what that small village in the middle of nowhere offered, and his heart was restless for adventure.

As he turned the corner into his street, Lorenzo could see the large car slow down to a stop. A few seconds later, a man in his late thirties hopped out and greeted his grandmother with a formal handshake. He wore an expensive and well-tailored black suit as he entered the house. Lorenzo seemed intrigued and slightly baffled as his grandmother was a particularly private person and would rarely let strangers into her home.

Lorenzo walked the rest of the way and stopped as he reached the large car. The boy tried looking inside, but the glass was pitch black. He placed his hand on it, and as he strolled over to the front, he skimmed his hand over the bright black surface. As he passed through the driver's door, he felt an inebriating scent of expensive perfume, unlike those cheap fragrances his aunt would gift him on Christmas or those his friends would put on after soccer practice. This one was different. Rich. And remarkably alluring. He stumbled, trying to devise a way to get inside without looking like he had just chased the car into his doorstep. But after a brief moment, barely containing his curiosity, he barged inside. As he entered, his grandmother jumped in her seat, cutting the conversation short.

"Porca puttana, mi hai spaventato." The woman let out with a heavy accent. "Boy, you scare me." She said, bringing her hand to her chest.

But Lorenzo wasn't even paying attention. His eyes were on that charming and well-presented man sitting in his chair, the chair he sits on when watching the games. Lorenzo's expression went from intrigued to annoyed.

"Everything good, Nonna?" He questioned, his eyes scanning the man.

"Yes. Sit, boy. We talk." The woman ordered, getting up and pulling a chair from the table.

Lorenzo grabbed the chair with one movement, turning it around, lacing his hand around it, and resting his muscular arms on its back. He brought his head forward as he gaped the mysterious man straight in the eyes. The man with dark-colored hair looked right back at him, unafraid, and his eyes pierced Lorenzo's soul instantly. Lorenzo was stunned. He had never felt such a jolt in the pit of his stomach, and for the first time in his life, he felt intimidated by someone's presence.

"Hello, Lorenzo." The man said, his voice calm and deep. "My name is Dorian Steiner. You probably don't know me. But maybe you know my father, William. He owned a large house four miles outside town." He framed, his hands crossed before him and resting in his lap.

"Yes, big rich house," Lorenzo replied with a cocky attitude as he tried to shake off the overpowering gaze of the man sitting before him.

"Yes. I suppose so." Dorian reacted, chuckling slightly at the boy's comment.

"Behave, boy!" His grandmother uttered, slapping the back of Lorenzo's head and making him tilt forward on the chair. "Sorry, Signore." She apologized.

"It's quite alright." Dorian excused, his eyes gazing relentlessly at Lorenzo. "I wouldn't say he's wrong." He mumbled to himself. "Your grandfather worked for my father. They were friends, you could say. So our families aren't strangers to each other." He proceeded to explain with a disturbingly calm attitude. "I've been spending more time here since my father passed...and I'm looking for someone to help me around the house, take care of the garden, and generally keep things in order." He elaborated under the attentive eyes of both Lorenzo and his grandmother. "I was hoping you could be that person." He stated, glancing at Lorenzo and scanning his reaction. The boy was visibly confused. Dorian peeked at Nonna, looking for support. "Your grandmother told me you're looking for a job. I could pay to double what they offer around here." He stated, gaining some confidence as Lorenzo's eyes sparkled for the first time since he started talking.

"What I have to do?" Lorenzo questioned, his tone gaining some energy and even excitement.

"Take care of the grounds, keep the place going. I only come here three months a year, so...it would be good if you could help me take care of it while I'm away." Dorian explained. "So, what do you say?" He asked. Lorenzo slanted forward on his chair, placing his chin over his arms. He looked up at Dorian like a puppy, with virtue in his eyes and a profound wonderment. He was living all possibilities in his head as he contemplated his answer.

"I think about." He answered cautiously. As he did, another violent slap hit him from behind.

"You not think. You do, idiota!" Nonna hollered back at him. "Mi dispiace, signore." She said, addressing Dorian.

"Okay! Va bene!" Lorenzo shouted, trying to hold the laughter in but smiling enough to show his beautiful teeth. As he did, he glanced at Dorian, who seemed fixated on the boy's mouth. Dorian quickly rose to meet Lorenzo's eyes as he winked, sealing their newfound complicity. Lorenzo looked away, feeling a sudden jolt of embarrassment.

"What do you say I take you for a tour? Show you around the villa?" Dorian offered, getting up from his chair and adjusting his suit at the front. Lorenzo's eyes sparkled.

"Can I go ride in car with you?" He asked eagerly.

"Sure. It was a pleasure, Francesca." Dorian stated, politely holding Nonna's hand as he walked towards the door. He opened it and turned around. "You coming, Lorenzo?" he challenged as he stepped outside. Lorenzo looked at his grandmother before jumping from the chair and hopping with childlike excitement. When he arrived, Dorian was already inside the car, pulling the window down as he stylishly put on a pair of sunglasses.

"Get in, boy." He said, smiling.

Lorenzo was surprised at the absolute exhilaration this stranger unleashed in him. He ran around the large vehicle and opened the door to the passenger side. As soon as Lorenzo hopped in, the scent of that perfume rushed through him. As he took his seat, he looked at Dorian enthusiastically. But the charming man was already backing the car out of the narrow street, steering the wheel with grace and elegance. He extended his arm onto Lorenzo's seat as he turned his head to look behind. When he did, his hand grazed the boy's neck. Lorenzo felt a rush of electricity run through his body.

Growing up without a male figure deprived him of the experience of a close connection with another man. Outside the occasional playfulness between guys in the school's locker room, this was an overwhelmingly new feeling to which he was a stranger. As they exited the street and veered around the courtyard, Lorenzo's friends watched as the boy opened the window and stuck his head and arm outside, waving.

"Dove vai Lorenzo?" One of his male friends hollered towards the car. The girls sitting on the wooden bench, watching the game, stared frowning at Lorenzo's excitement.

"Non aspettarmi, stronzi!" Lorenzo teased, chuckling and tilting his head back as the car picked up speed, his raven-curled hair blowing in the wind.

It was the most excited he'd been in a long time, and that simple ride towards the villa aboard the luxurious car was like a fresh wave of seawater that filled his skin with a renewed sense of hope. The boy let his hair flow as they drove along the shore, the breeze coating his face as his eyes closed, taking in all that sense of awe. He eventually turned his head inside the car again. Dorian was now holding the steering wheel with one hand, and the other was bearing a cigarette.

"Want one?" Dorian questioned, extending the opened pack in front of the boy.

"Smoke is bad for you," Lorenzo commented, his head slanted on the headboard as he looked at Dorian intensely.

"Fair enough," Dorian responded, opening the glove compartment and throwing the pack of cigarettes inside. "Have you ever been to the villa?" he asked.

"No. Too young when grandfather stop work there. He took Lorenzo one time, but I not remember." The boy explained as he kept staring at Dorian, his eyes scanning the enigmatic man.

"I see," Dorian said as he glanced at the boy from behind the dark sunglasses. I think you'll love it there. There's something about that place," Dorian added mysteriously.

"Fantasmi?" Lorenzo joked, laughing and exposing his beautiful smile and his luscious lips.

"No," Dorian said, chuckling. There was a brief silence. Lorenzo opened his mouth several times before mustering the courage to ask.

"You met Nonno? What he like?" He inquired.

"Your grandfather was a great man. Stern but kind. I..." Dorian paused, laboring to utter the words. "I was very fond of his company...and friendship." He noted, readjusting the sunglasses on his face. Lorenzo smiled at him, visibly emotional for having been granted a glimpse at his family's past.

The car veered right into a long road with large blooming trees on both sides. About a mile in, the car turned right, and they reached the metal gates to the villa. Dorian looked at Lorenzo, calmly removing his glasses, and beamed at the boy.

"Care to do the honors?" He asked, tilting his nose towards the gate.

Lorenzo jumped out of the car, circled it from the front, and pulled the large metal rod holding the gigantic gate. His muscles protruded through his dark, tanned skin unashamed, displaying his beautiful upper body, encased in a white, shriveled tank top. Dorian sat in the car as he watched the boy closely, his hand resting on the steering wheel while his other hand held his sunglasses to his mouth, his tongue and teeth nibbling on its plastic frame. As the boy pushed the large gates inside, he observed how his raven-curled locks hovered over his face and his fuzzy lower legs stretched, making his ass even more prominent under his thigh and dirty denim shorts. As Lorenzo latched the gates, Dorian drove the car inside, circling the large fountain and parking right in front of the entrance to the massive house.

"Big!" Lorenzo shouted as his eyes wandered around the property.

"C'mon." Dorian hailed, opening the car door and stepping outside. As he did, he took a big sniff, taking in all the country air. Lorenzo admired as that breath seemed to peel off Dorian all the stoicism he carried. It was like witnessing another person appear in front of him. "Let me show you around," Dorian called, gesturing for Lorenzo to follow him.

The boy leaped from his seat and ran over to Dorian as he entered. For the next half hour, he paced around the house, showing Lorenzo everything with an enthusiasm that brought light and easiness to that moment. Lorenzo pursued him, transfixed by the stories Dorian told, and every time they stopped, Dorian turned his back to him. Lorenzo would lean slightly closer and smell his suit and the inebriating scent of perfume it emanated. They went along the house, exploring the first floor, the living room, and the kitchen. Finally, they headed outside, and Dorian showed Lorenzo the garden and the riverbank. They eventually headed back inside, and Dorian showed Lorenzo a small annex attached to the kitchen.

"The house is far from town. You can stay here during the weekdays—until you get your car, of course," he suggested as he skimmed his fingers over the small table between two couches. "It needs a proper cleaning, though. And a new TV set." he sounded, brushing the dust off the tip of his fingers.

"I stay here?" Lorenzo asked, stunned. "My room?" He continued, his expression jubilant.

"Where did you sleep in Nonna's house?" Dorian asked, intrigued.

"I sleep couch. Nonna has a problem with her back. Only one bed, so..." the boy declared with an endearing naivety. Dorian looked at him, trying to mask his compassion.

"Well...if you want, you can have this. It's yours." He said as he watched the boy's eyes glaze.

"Grazie, Signore." Lorenzo thanked him.

"Elena should be here tomorrow. Come. I'll take you back to Nonna's." Dorian said, grabbing his keys from his pocket and exiting through the door of the small living room.

Dorian drove Lorenzo back into town as the night drew in. The car moved along the coast while the moonlight stretched over the ocean. Unlike the ride to the villa, the return home provided a comfortable silence. Lorenzo watched the sea, contemplating that magical day. It made him feel special for the first time in his life. Dorian's arrival had plucked him from his simple and somewhat ordinary existence. But was this wonderment meant to last? What did a man like Dorian want with someone like him? He was nobody. And yet, he felt seen. And that feeling was as intoxicating as it was addictive. As they drove along the night road, Lorenzo brooded on these thoughts, desperately hoping that once his tired body went to sleep, he wouldn't wake to his old reality and the sense of hope he felt had been nothing but a dream. The car slowed down as it entered the narrow street, eventually coming to a stop.

"So, I'll pick you up tomorrow," Dorian instructed. "Be ready at 9 a.m., okay?" he requested.

"Okay," Lorenzo answered, still dazed. "Grazie," the boy said, extending his hand towards Dorian, who grabbed it with a firm shake. But instead of letting go, he held it for a few seconds. Those seconds stretched indefinitely, the heat emanating from Dorian's hand radiating through Lorenzo's body. Their eyes locked as they gazed intensely at each other.

"You have soft hands. I used to have hands like yours." Dorian acknowledged, his dark eyes glinting in the evening light. Lorenzo's throat tightened, and his mouth dried completely. Dorian's index fingers skimmed the inside of the boy's palm, sending shivers down his spine.

"I...go," Lorenzo uttered, his voice grating with anxiety.

Dorian smiled, taunting the boy's bashfulness. He sat in the car, watching Lorenzo step out and walk to Nonna's door. Lorenzo resisted the urge to look back, but his body refused to listen. He turned just as he opened the door in time to see Dorian still inside the car, his head tilted, following the boy's every move. Lorenzo waved and shut the door behind him. He took two steps and plunged his body onto the small sofa in the living room where he slept.

"Che cazzo era questo..." He muttered, completely flabbergasted. He lay there for several minutes, incapable of falling asleep. His eyes blinked in the dark as his mind tried to wrap around the events unfolding. And on the tail of it, a burning thought kept surfacing: 9 a.m. couldn't come soon enough!

At 7:45 a.m. the following day, Lorenzo was showering, unable to contain his excitement, knowing he would spend all day with Dorian. Nonna was startled when she walked into the bathroom and heard Lorenzo humming as he shampooed his head and scrubbed his chiseled body. He jumped out of the shower and ran to the table where breakfast awaited. He nibbled on some toasty warm butter bread. But Lorenzo's stomach was in complete turmoil. He would run to the door and peek outside, trying to catch Dorian's car driving into his street. But time passed, and the car didn't show up. Gradually, Lorenzo's enthusiasm turned into growing anxiety, ending in utter disappointment. It was 9:45 a.m., and Dorian had yet to show up. Lorenzo kissed Nonna's forehead and left the house, walking slowly and sluggishly to the town square. Some of his friends were there, but Lorenzo avoided them, strolling towards the pear and sitting on its edge, his legs slanting outwards.

"Lorenzo, cosa c'è che non va?" His friend asked from over the railing.

"Lasciami solo!" Lorenzo hollered, annoyed. "Pretend I dead..." He murmured, defeated. The boy watched the waves break beneath his feet, trying desperately to mend his broken spirit. It'd been a dream, and he was back to being excruciatingly ordinary. He sighed and closed his eyes. As he did, he started hearing whistles in the distance and a weird commotion coming from where his friends were.

"Hey, boy!" Dorian's voice called from behind him. A rush wave of warmth filled Lorenzo's body immediately. He turned around, taking his hand to his face to block the sun from his eyes. There was Dorian, wearing a tracksuit. He looked dashing, with his hair perfectly combed and his skin glowing. "You know, I had to chase you around town. I told you to wait at Nonna's," he taunted.

"You late. I think you not come," the boy admitted. "Maybe not want me for job," he explained, trying to sound professional. Dorian gazed at him, his eyes barely visible behind the dark sunglasses.

"I want you. Trust me." He said, his voice resonating. Lorenzo turned his eyes away, unable to withstand the alluring man's piercing gaze. Dorian chuckled. In the back, Lorenzo's friends giggled as they pointed at them. "I don't think your friends like me very much," Dorian remarked.

"They jealous," Lorenzo stated as he scratched his nails on the stone bench.

"Why?" Dorian asked, curious.

"Because you take Lorenzo in fancy car," the boy confessed, still unable to lift his eyes and meet Dorian's.

"I see," Dorian said, turning his head and greeting Lorenzo's friends. "Let's make them really jealous then. Come." Dorian commanded, pivoting around, snatching the keys from his pocket, and opening the door to the outrageously expensive convertible behind him. He sat in the driver's seat, turning his head to Lorenzo. "Are you coming or what?" He invited, smiling as he saw Lorenzo's face emerge, his eyes scintillating and his plump lips stretching into a smile.

The boy stood up and rushed to the car, leaping inside over the door. He extended his arm over the side, feeling his oaths. Dorian started the car and went past Lorenzo's friends.

"Ci vediamo dopo, banda!" Dorian hollered as he drove past them. Lorenzo chuckled, feeling that sense of protection and comfort wash over him as the car drove him away from that life he so desperately wished to escape.

They rode back to the villa. As they reached the large gates, a young woman in her early thirties awaited them.

"Elena, open the gates for me," Dorian ordered. The young woman obliged, waving to Lorenzo as the car drove past her towards the entrance. Lorenzo smiled at her. She seemed transfixed on the boy's beauty, something Lorenzo was used to, to be fair. As the car stopped, both men stepped out. Dorian signaled Lorenzo to follow him, and they walked back to the fountain where Elena awaited.

"Elena, this is Lorenzo. He's going to help you around the house from now on. There will be no more heavy lifting, okay?" Dorian informed her.

"Grazie, Signore." She said, smiling.

"Lorenzo, come. I want to show you something." Dorian said, walking towards the river.

Lorenzo looked at Elena as she winked, signaling the boy to follow Dorian. He smiled back and hopped to meet Dorian. As they walked and neared the river bank, Lorenzo could feel the scent of fresh water and moss envelop him. They roamed a few yards further before Dorian finally stopped. Lorenzo stood behind him, waiting for instructions. But Dorian just stood there, staring at the water, his hands in his pockets.

"Whenever I come here, I find myself thinking, how time changes everything...yet...some places seem to stop its flow." He spoke softly, his voice deep and soothing. "This house, Lorenzo. It's one of those places." He stated. He began unzipping his tracksuit. First, the top part unveils his upper body, tanned skin, chiseled back, and broad chest, showcasing a firm belly underneath. "I hope you'll come to understand...as I did...that here..." He uttered, stripping his pants and revealing his naked body, his fuzzy ass facing Lorenzo, whose eyes widened in shock. "Here we are free, boy." He said as he looked back at Lorenzo before running naked towards the river and jumping inside, letting out a scream as his body adjusted to the cold temperature.

Lorenzo turned his head from one side to the other, looking for someone around. But he soon realized nobody was there—not a single soul to judge or comment on their behavior, criticize or chastise them. He looked at Dorian and smiled.

"C'mon, boy." Dorian hollered, calling the boy with his hands.

Lorenzo quickly stripped naked, showing off his body. Dorian stood there, stirring his arms slowly over the water's surface, trying to draw as little attention to him as possible as he observed the perfect creation before him. Lorenzo's body seemed sculpted by the most profound artistic impulse. There was no flaw. Every part of his body melted perfectly with the next in a godlike balance. His smooth feet supported two lower legs, covered in a bright dark fuzz that crawled into two wide thighs, converging on a pelvis that hosted the most perfect, long, uncut cock in its center. Dorian smirked as he realized Lorenzo's hands had come over it as the boy embarrassingly tried to hide it. As he did, his upper body clenched, exposing his six-pack and broad, chiseled, hairy chest. His face attempted to hide from Dorian's gaze, but the more he tried, the more the morning rays of sunshine rained on him, bringing his innocent expression to the forefront, begging to be looked at and admired.

"Get in here." Dorian ushered.

Lorenzo finally lifted his head and looked at Dorian; suddenly, he felt no fear. He realized that the man beckoning his presence, this mysterious new figure in his life who stood there gazing at his naked body, was slowly but surely peeling away the layers of his mundane life. Bringing him the sense of adventure he didn't experience but desperately yearned. The boy ran into the water and dove inside, his body taken over by the cold water. His head broke the surface right next to Dorian, their heads hovering on the water's veneer, and their eyes met and locked.

"Feels good, right?" Dorian asked.

"Cold," Lorenzo uttered, his teeth grinding and his lips shivering. Dorian stepped forward and slowly locked his body onto Lorenzo's. The boy pushed back, startled.

"It's okay. Don't be afraid." Dorian assured, stepping forward again, testing the limit between them.

This time, Lorenzo accepted Dorian's attempt. His arms crossed in front of his chest as Dorian swathed his own around the boy. Lorenzo's tight body began to relax, and before he could even think, his head fell on Dorian's chest and sank into it. They stayed there for a while, clutching as their bodies grew more intimate.

"Better?" Dorian questioned, his voice whispering for the boy's embrace.

"Yes," Lorenzo replied softly as his face rubbed Dorian's chest, ushering him closer.

Under the surface, he could feel his groin tingle and his dick getting hard. The boy felt conflicted and confused. He had never felt that about a man before. But there was something about how Dorian held him that awakened a fire inside he didn't recognize and to which his body was a stranger. Suddenly, his hardened shaft grazed Dorian's leg accidentally.

"Signore...spiacente. What wrong with me?" He said, pushing his face harder into Dorian's chest, ashamed.

Dorian's hands, placed on Lorenzo's back, slowly climbed up the boy's back, sliding over his neck and cradling his face. Dorian's finger lifted Lorenzo's chin and forced their eyes to meet. The boy could now feel Dorian's smoky breath on his face as their mouth hovered inches from each other. Dorian leaned forward, but Lorenzo pushed back, his arms punching Dorian's chest, making the water splash around them.

"I'm sorry," Dorian said, his hands in the air. Lorenzo stared at him, his eyes glistening.

"Take Lorenzo home. Per favore." The boy said, slowly walking out of the water, his arms still crossed over his chest. He grabbed his clothes from the grassy ground, dressed, and walked to the car. Dorian followed suit, pulling his clothes off the floor and walking naked toward the boy.

"Come with me, boy. Before you get sick." He ordered as he walked past Lorenzo, who begrudgingly followed Dorian to the house. They walked in, and Dorian went straight for the stairs. "Follow me." He said as he strode naked, his fuzzy, muscular ass bouncing in front of Lorenzo, who tried his best not to look or get distracted. As Dorian entered the larger room, he went straight for a small closet and took out two sets of towels. "Here." He said, throwing it over to Lorenzo, who caught it with one hand, the other concealing his junk. "Take a shower. I'll wait." He stated, walking over to his nightstand, grabbing a pack of cigarettes, lighting one up, and stepping over to the large balcony facing the backyard.

Lorenzo watched as Dorian exposed his naked body with ease. Despite their awkward moment, the boy gazed at that man and envied his exuding confidence. He entered the bathroom and was about to close the door but suddenly stopped himself. His hand let go of the doorknob, leaving it slightly open. He undressed and jumped in the shower, standing naked, waiting for the water to warm up. As he plunged under the hot shower, he closed his eyes and deeply breathed. Conflicting thoughts rushed through his head. What was this feeling inside? Why did he get aroused around Dorian? He played around with his friends but never felt like that. This feeling was deep and grounded. Like an eruption on his skin. A fire he couldn't put out. He wanted to touch Dorian. Everywhere. Be held by him. Feel the scent of his breath and the touch of his lips on his skin. The aroma of his perfume was becoming intoxicating.

As his mind wandered, so did his body, and it wasn't long before Lorenzo realized that he had walked, soaking wet, all the way from the bathroom right into the balcony where Dorian waited for him. He turned to meet the boy's gaze and beamed, sealing their bond permanently. Lorenzo plunged into Dorian's arms, his face nestling in his neck, breathing in that fragrance, the scent of his perfume. His plump lips clumsily skated over Dorian's skin as he breathed heavily and uncontrollably.

"Ti voglio, Signore." The boy murmured between breaths, "Hold me." He continued, his lips crawling up Dorian's chin. "Baciami," he pleaded, their lips touching.

Suddenly, Dorian grabbed Lorenzo's curls aggressively and pulled the boy's head back, making him whimper. Then, swiftly, he lunged like a shark on his mouth, sliding his tongue inside as his lips surrounded Lorenzo's like a predator. The boy's muffled moans broke from inside that passionate kiss, and his eyes closed in ecstasy. Lorenzo's arms fell as he finally surrendered to his desire and offered himself to Dorian. Their tongues danced inside their mouths as Dorian sucked on Lorenzo's lips. His left hand held him by the waist while the other grabbed the boy's head, pulling him in even more. Dorian pushed them over to the bed, and Lorenzo hit the edge with his lower legs. Dorian pulled away from the kiss, and when he did, spit fell from their mouths. He placed his hands on the boy's shoulders and guided him down, making him kneel on the floor, his back slanted on the mattress.

There, in front of Lorenzo's face, was Dorian's massive, 9-inch cock, pulsating, its foreskin peeling back as it grew uncontrollably in front of him. The strong scent it exuded was the first thing Lorenzo noted. Then, the string of precum leaks from the tip. Finally, the veins protrude out of its surface. The boy stood there with his mouth open in awe. He knew what he wanted to do. He glanced up, and Dorian was looking right back at him. No words were necessary. The boy smiled, looked forward, opened his mouth, and, with his tongue, started licking the precum swinging on its tip.

The taste filled his mouth. Salty but not bitter. The more he took in, the more it felt familiar, as if he knew the taste even though he had never tried it. Lorenzo licked the now moistened tip, taking his opened mouth further in, first by pecking it with his lips, then swallowing a bit and grazing it with his tongue as he slid it out of his mouth. When he did, Dorian would tilt his head back and moan cavernously. The fact that he knew he was giving Dorian pleasure seemed to entice Lorenzo to continue. The boy grabbed the massive dick and took it inside his mouth. But he was probably too eager, as his first attempts resulted in gagging and occasionally a sudden urge to throw up. But his sounds seemed to excite Dorian, who started to guide his cock deeper inside, trying to accommodate the boy's inexperience but still maintaining his dominance over him. As the thrusts became more steady, Lorenzo's breathing intensified. He was taking Dorian's shaft halfway in as spit and precum spilled from the sides of his mouth. His hands clenched onto Dorian's thighs as he tried to regain control.

"Put your hands behind your back," Dorian ordered with his cock still inside the boy's mouth.

Lorenzo obliged, reluctantly at first. As soon as he did, Dorian grabbed his head and shoved his dick in, his pubes grazing the tip of Lorenzo's nose. The boy's eyes opened and started to water profusely. He shook his head, trying to get away. Dorian pulled out, but not completely. Then, he pushed back in again, and as he did, they both fell back, and Lorenzo's hands got stuck between the edge of the bed. Dorian grinned. The boy's eyes flinched with terror, knowing what was coming. Dorian tilted his body over Lorenzo's face and began fucking his mouth. The boy's cries erupted, followed by intense slobbering, gagging, and whimpering. His screams were muffled and punctuated by Dorian's pelvic jabs, and as they persisted for a while, the boy's face became increasingly flushed and strained, almost making him pass out.

"Fuck, boy. You're going to make me come." Dorian stated, his grunts resembling an animal in heat, pulling out to avoid climaxing. As he did, Lorenzo propelled forward, taking his hands to his throat, trying to catch his breath.

"Cazzo...mio dio!" Lorenzo blurted. His breathing was heavy and fractured.

As he regained control, he looked up at Dorian's cock pulsing and dripping with his spit, and suddenly it happened. His eyes went dark, glazed with lust and savage rapture. He leaped from the ground like a beast and clutched his arms and legs around Dorian. The boy started emitting these strange noises, animal-like. Dorian grabbed him by the butt cheeks and dropped him forward, aligning his cock with the boy's hole. Lorenzo grabbed Dorian's hair and pulled himself closer, merging their sweaty bodies. Dorian laid Lorenzo's back on the bed and, with a smooth and perfectly coordinated move, gently shoved his throbbing dick inside him. Lorenzo's nails dug into Dorian's skin as they both yelled together. Dorian giggled and pulled out, then before the tip exited, he pushed back in again. Lorenzo's scream turned into a moan. Careless and wild. Dorian smiled, his face buried in the boy's neck. He felt his sphincter open and relax as it received every inch of Dorian's manhood.

Lorenzo couldn't explain it, and neither wanted to. The only thing he knew then was the complete joy he felt having that man inside him. A high-inducing bliss. It was as if the world had stopped spinning and time had halted. Dorian was right. He was right, the boy thought. Dorian started pummelling his dick inside Lorenzo's hole with brutal force, his hips swinging fiercely in the hair and his ass bouncing up and down, his pelvis swooping down on the boy. The wet sounds of their hips slapping together filled the room, and time ceased. Lorenzo moaned while Dorian opened him and filled his every inch as his hole stretched senselessly. Lorenzo's eyes closed, and he fell into a trance, feeling nothing but the cunning and surgical pleasure that spewed from his prostate and blew through his body. The shock waves of euphoria drove at high speed and hit the extremities of the boy's body, making his hands grasp the skin on Dorian's back, and his toes curl.

"I'm gonna cum." Dorian announced, his voice speaking softly in Lorenzo's ear.

"Vieni dentro di me..." The boy implored.

Dorian let out a growling noise as the first shots of batter entered the boy's hole. But he kept pounding, wanting to reach the furthest recesses of his ass. Lorenzo countered that by making no sound, his body twitching as it followed the rhythm of Dorian's pumps, his legs wrapped around his waist. Then, he did something unexpected. His hands veered up and grabbed Dorian's face, bringing it forward and placing it in front of his. Dorian's eyes opened, unveiling the last glimpse of his climax. He now gazed at the boy. And his eyes lingered there, his mouth slightly opened.

"You're so beautiful," he uttered, panting. Then he kept staring into Lorenzo's eyes. "How...how do you say..." he stuttered, trying to find the words. Lorenzo looked at him and beamed.

"Mio bel ragazzo..." The boy murmured.

"Yes...yes," Dorian said, his eyes tearing up. "My beautiful boy." He uttered, his voice cracking as he fought his emotion.

Lorenzo looked at him perplexed. That stern, charismatic, and confident man was now in front of him, stripped of all his armor. His eyes mirrored a fragile soul that longed for connection. Lorenzo pulled him in and held him in his arms. Dorian's shaft was still inside him, hard, his breathing normalizing as he fell asleep on the boy's broad chest. They didn't leave the room, the bed, or the house for the next two weeks. Dorian would let Lorenzo invite his friends to bathe on the lake, spend the afternoon lying in the sun, and drink beers.

Dorian would keep away during those days, in the solitude of his balcony, gazing down on the young men and women as they paraded their youth, unaware of the fleeting nature of their existence. He recognized that feeling, and in a sense, he envied it. Dorian would watch Lorenzo as the boy shared the magic of that villa with his friends, choosing to keep away and waiting for the boy to smile back at him. As far as Lorenzo was concerned, as much as he loved his friend's presence, he would get anxious as the day went by, feeling his body ache for Dorian. His groin would tingle, and his sphincter would pucker at the thought of Dorian's dick inside him.

During those weeks, they would fuck all around the house. By now, all the mysterious corners, the walls, cold stones, and dark wooden floors of that villa knew their body's every secret. Their scent, musk, and cum, were lathering the entire property, and their intimacy grew each second of each day. Dorian was slowly submitting to Lorenzo's charm. The innocence and carelessness the boy harbored made Dorian's layers peel away. And whatever darkness or sadness he kept inside was slowly being brought to light by the tenderness of this boy he sought and that he had plucked from his mundane life. But as their relationship grew, so did their feelings, and lust gradually morphed into a fiery passion. But, despite their best efforts to perpetuate the villa's magical myths and stop the flow of time, the reality was beginning to sink in for Dorian.

As he lay in bed one night with a cloud of smoke surrounding him as he puffed on a cigarette, he watched Lorenzo stand on the balcony, naked, his perfectly muscled ass lit by the creeping moonlight.

"You're stunning." He stated, his hand taking the cigarette to his mouth. Lorenzo turned around and smiled, then hopped on the bed, stomach laying down, his ass sticking up, begging for attention. "We need to talk," Dorian said with a somber tone.

"We not talk ever. We fuck." The boy teased, giggling as he buried his head in Dorian's dick. But Dorian's cock remained soft. Lorenzo glanced at him, and for the first time, he toned down his libido, sensing something was amiss. "Okay...talk." He said nervously.

"In about two weeks, I'll have to leave," Dorian informed.

"Where we go?" The boy innocently asked.

"I meant alone, Lorenzo," Dorian answered as he punched down the cigarette on a small ashtray by the nightstand. Glancing back at Lorenzo, he could feel the boy's panic.

"What you mean?... Where you go?" Lorenzo asked as he pulled back and sat on the bed, his body fidgeting.

"I have to go back home—to America," Dorian said. By now, the strain in his voice was visible.

"Take Lorenzo." The boy pleaded.

"I can't," Dorian said. Lorenzo's eyes glistened with tears, imploring for answers as the despair piled up.

"Signore...please. I not want you go." Lorenzo begged. "Is something Lorenzo do?" he questioned, frantic for an answer.

"No. Of course not," Dorian said, tilting forward and softly holding the boy's face in his hand. I wish I could stay here with you. Forever," he said. But I have to go. I have a life waiting for me," he said, his eyes trembling with pain.

"Lorenzo love Dorian." The boy murmured.

"Don't..." Dorian mumbled, fighting back the tears.

"Dorian not love Lorenzo," the boy uttered, his words muffled by sadness.

"Look at me," Dorian asked. Lorenzo lifted his eyes. People like us...we can't afford that luxury," he stated, anger taking over. The best we can do is enjoy what we have as long as we have it," Dorian concluded. Lorenzo gazed at him, his eyes following every word of his.

"I live dream with you," the boy declared as he looked into Dorian's eyes. Then his head dropped, and he recoiled his body, leaving the bed. "Dream is over," he remarked. He picked up his clothes from the floor and left the room. Dorian stood there, tears running down his face, as he listened to Lorenzo's footsteps going down the stairs, the cracking sounds of the old wooden floor echoing through the house.

As the door shut behind him, Lorenzo started running. He ran fast and far. As distant as his tired legs could take him. As he reached the end of the dirt road, he stopped, his breath rapid like wildfire. He sank to his knees and cried. His hands grabbed his raven curls as he tried to silence the sounds of his wailing. He stood there, kneeling on the side of the road, as the sunlight dimmed around him. Twilight came, and the purple streaks of light took hold of him. As his breath neutralized and his tears started to dry, he began to hear a motor in the distance. As he darted back, his eyes became dazed by strong lights coming in his direction. It was Dorian's car. It stopped on the side of the road, just a few feet from the boy. The window opened.

"Get in the car, boy." He ordered.

"Go away. Leave." Lorenzo hollered.

"No. Get in." Dorian ordered, his voice calm and collected. "Stop being a child." He said, shifting his tone entirely. "Get in the fucking car, Lorenzo!" He hollered, his voice growling. Lorenzo looked at him, stunned. He had never seen that side of Dorian, sounding like a caged beast struggling to get out.

"You mad," Lorenzo said, his voice carefully testing the unstable nature of this new energy.

"Get in. I need to show you something," Dorian said, grabbing the passenger's side door and opening it. Lorenzo looked at the door for a moment, then at Dorian, and finally got up and sat in the car, closing the door. His eyes gazed forward.

Dorian started the car, made a U-turn, and drove back to the villa slowly. He parked the car in front of the main entrance, jumped off, and entered the house, not emitting a word the entire time. Lorenzo followed him reluctantly. They went up the stairs, and as the boy reached the first floor, he found Dorian standing in front of a small door that led up. Dorian walked up the stairs, and Lorenzo followed him. Finally, they reached a wide and large attic. Lorenzo stood at the entrance, on the top of the stairs, his arms crossed as he watched Dorian walk to a large desk and sit behind it.

"When I was young..." Dorian stated, his voice halting, his eyes searching for random objects around him as he gathered fragments of his history, mustering the courage to speak. "Just about your age, I met an older man. When I look at you, I see myself. And with it, all the mistakes I have made..." He expressed, his eyes finally searching for Lorenzo's. "I wouldn't wish that for you. I care too much to let you suffer...the way I suffered." He admitted as he teared up, looking out the window, trying to hide his fragility. Lorenzo moved a few steps further and stopped taking a piece of his clothing off. "Love...destroys everything, boy." He uttered. Lorenzo took another two steps forward, peeling away one more piece. "I will push you away as much as I must until you learn." He asserted. Lorenzo stepped forward again and was now next to Dorian, completely nude. He glanced up to find the boy looking at him, a gentle smile piercing through. His youthful figure was lit by the evening glow coming through the circular windows.

"And Lorenzo will chase Signore until Signore understand." The boy stated, sitting on Dorian's lap, his legs wrapped around the chair and his stiff 11-inch cock chafing against the cold zipper from his tracksuit. "Lorenzo belong to you." He stated, kissing Dorian's face and opening the zipper from the top part of his jumper. "You are in skin." He whispered, kissing his eyelid softly as his dick rubbed against his stomach. "You are in mouth." He murmured as he kissed Dorian's lips. "You are inside Lorenzo. Forever." The boy pledged with complete resoluteness. Dorian opened his eyes, the boy's face latched to his, their eyes connected and their mouth touching as their breaths pushed against each other.

"You're going to be the death of me, boy," Dorian uttered, leaning in with his tongue out, latching their mouths together passionately. Their tongues rolled inside, their spits merging intimately as their breaths set the cadence of their passion, becoming more intense and profound as their mouths refused to part.

Lorenzo lifted his ass enough to allow Dorian to push his pants down with his hands, exposing his massive, raging hard cock that propelled up and hit the boy's firm ass with a slapping sound. The already considerable amount of precum around it and the few strings latched to Lorenzo's cheeks were enough for the boy to lubricate it as he gently inserted the shaft inside his sphincter. His moaning escorted its descent into the core of his hole, hitting his prostate almost immediately. As it did, he clenched his fists on Dorian's shoulders, pushing them down on the chair.

Unlike all the other times, there was no roughness, no urgency. Instead, Lorenzo felt Dorian's dick embrace his hole, throbbing inside slowly, finally accepting it as its home, a place of worship and prayer. Lorenzo tilted his hips slowly back and forth, clenching his hole, making the chair screech as he slid Dorian's dick inside his taint. His tightened hole latched on Dorian's cock like a leech claiming it as his own. Dorian's arms wrapped around Lorenzo's back, his fingers lacing as he held his grip. His head was buried on the boy's hairy chest, and he was sniffing in the scent of lavender and dirt. The two men were closer than they had ever been, both physically and mentally. Their souls finally revealed.

"I love you..." Dorian let out, his words escaping from a cocoon of endless penitence. "I love you so damn much." He cried out as his orgasm broke free, unleashing inside Lorenzo's hole. The boy smiled as he arched his head back in complete rapture, the warm strings of batter firing inside him and drizzling slowly out of him.

"Say it. Say it to Lorenzo." The boy whispered, sticking his tongue inside Dorian's ear.

"Mio bel Ragazzo...My beautiful boy." Dorian whispered back. Once he did, he felt a warm rush of liquid explode on his abdomen as the boy came hands-free, his dick frotting against his fuzzy skin.

They remained there, allowing small movements to guide their climax beyond their own journey's end. Together, they ventured beyond the boundaries of their pleasure and branded that moment in the skin of time itself. They had devised a fracture to where they could escape. They were finally alone in the world, as was their love. For the last weeks, they didn't leave the attic. Afraid that vacating that space would split their hearts apart, which they had now sewn together. They made love until their bodies ached. Elena would leave food at the foot of the stairs, afraid they would starve themselves to death, as they began believing their love would feed them. They laughed, played, slept, ate, and dreamt of a life together, unshackled by social pressures, expectations, prejudice, and cruelty. Dorian took a Polaroid camera from the desk the day before his departure.

"Don't move." He said as he gazed at Lorenzo's naked frame lying on the old mattress in the middle of the room. "I want to remember this moment forever." He stated, clicking the camera, panning around Lorenzo, registering the moment as the boy hid his face with embarrassment. I'll save these here." He said, fanning them in the air and tossing them on the desk, inside a drawer. And there they stayed, slowly unveiling the truth of those days. The images of Lorenzo's youthful soul forever imprinted on those pieces of paper, like a secret to be kept safe.

Lorenzo's eyes flared as the morning light crept through the windows. He lifted his head to find himself alone in the attic. The boy's naked body bounced off the floor. He put his clothes on and ran downstairs. He heard noises coming from the kitchen and sighed in relief. As he reached the door, he saw Elena. She looked at him, her face in tears.

"Mi dispiace mio dolce ragazzo..." She informed, with despair in her voice as she watched Lorenzo's expression change. "Se n'è andato." She declared. Lorenzo ran outside, catching Dorian's car in the distance as it drove away. He ran barefoot over stone and dirt as fast as he could. His feet were bleeding as he pushed through, lifting his arms in desperation.

"Signore, signore, Dorian...wait! Where you go?" The boy yelled, finally reaching the car. It slowly lowered its speed and came to a stop. Lorenzo stumbled the rest of the way, his feet battered and in pain, yet his eyes focused on the car. He finally reached it and hit the glass on the driver's side with rage and frustration. The glass slid down slowly.

"Lorenzo..." Dorian mumbled. His pain latched to every word.

"Don't go...stay." Lorenzo beseeched.

"My beautiful boy..." Dorian uttered, his voice coming out weak. "Find a girl, get married, have kids...Go live your life." He said, eyes locked on the road's edge.

"Sei la mia vita..." The boy uttered, his voice faltering as the words left his mouth. Dorian kept looking forward, his eyes on the road as tears rolled down his face. He eventually pressed his foot on the accelerator as the car shot forward and didn't stop. "I wait. I wait for you." Lorenzo cried, his voice blundering as he watched Dorian drive away from him.

And he did. For the next 19 years, Lorenzo waited for Dorian. The boy Dorian left on the side of the road kept his promise and stood by, awaiting the man he loved to return to him. He remained there, alone, in that town, watching the love of his life drive away repeatedly only to come back, year after year, and each time, carrying the remembrances of a life lived away from him and their love. First with a wife, then with a child. As the years endured and the seasons changed, so did Lorenzo's love.

And as he grew older, his innocence followed suit. And that once pure boy became a bitter man. The memories of that summer and the happiness he felt turned rotten like fruit plucked from a tree too soon.
His dreams became drops of rain in the sea.
And his future, like still water on a river.
His lust became an addiction.
His love became an obsession.
And his longing became blind devotion.

(To be concluded...)