“SON FOR A MONTH” is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don”t care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest.
SON FOR A MONTH by Andrej Koymasky © 2020
written on March 11, 2003
Translated by the Author
English text kindly revised by Dr. Nicholas Alexander 7 – TROUBLED BALANCES
“Alessandro, do you have some time?” Gabriele asked looking out the office door of the industrialist.
“Yes, of course, come in.”
The boy came in and sat across the desk of the man. “You have an ugly face…”
“Yes, I”m going to have a bad headache.” Alessandro complained and opened a drawer of his desk.
“If you look for the painkillers, I hid them,” said the boy.
“Why?” the man asked, raising his eyes with a frown.
“Because you promised me you would do as I told you.”
“What”s that?” Alessandro said, irritated.
Gabriele stood up and walked around the desk: “Unbutton the jacket, take off the tie and loosen the shirt collar,” he ordered.
“Why?” the man asked, raising his head to look at him suspiciously.
“Do as I say, come on,” the boy said with a smile. “Trust me… for once.”
Alessandro sighed, but did what the boy said, and who had moved behind him.
“Now relax, lean your head back and close your eyes. Yes, like that… Now inhale, mentally counting to ten, and exhale for a count of twenty, the slower you can, and go on like that.”
While the man executed these instructions, Gabriele placed his fingertips on his temples and began to massage them with light circular movements, sometimes barely touching them, sometimes pressing with more energy.
“So… keep breathing and try not to think about anything,” the boy told him, his voice low and warm.
“Not think of anything… easy for you to say, with all the problems I have.”
“Do not talk and continue to breathe as I told you. If you cannot help but to think; think of something beautiful – a nice view… swimming in the sea… the falling snow… something nice and beautiful… Relax, breathe slowly and try to relax.” Gabriele said, continuing his massage.
Slowly Alessandro felt a sense of well being creeping into him, and gradually relaxed. The cool fingers of the boy, his calm, low, and hot voice, gave him a pleasant feeling. He relaxed more and more, and his body, which at first seemed to weigh heavily, beginning to sink into the soft leather of the chair, seemed now to grow lighter.
Gabriele”s fingers , in addition to tracking larger circles, spread apart and began to move, slightly, on the man”s forehead, eyebrows, eyelids, and cheekbones, returning to dwell on his temples. Alessandro trembled slightly and thought that it was very pleasant and relaxed even more.
Now the hands of the boy also underlined his nose, caressing his cheeks, passing as light as butterfly wings on his lips, while his voice kept telling him to relax… to relax… The man shuddered again.
“How do you feel, Alessandro?”
“Better… good…” murmured the man.
After a few minutes he felt the hands on his face, on his temples no more. The man then opened his eyes and saw that Gabriel was again seated in front of him. He let out a sigh and straightened up, slowly sat up, looking at him.
“Yes, I feel better… but I feel it will be back soon.” Alessandro murmured.
“No, you must not think it will come back, or you will make it come back. The fear of pain makes us feel that it is stronger than it is. You must learn to relax, to take a break now and then. If I”m with you, I”ll do this massage again, but if am not, just do it yourself – it is less efficient but it works. And when it comes, you think that it will pass soon, that it is not all that strong, that you can control it, you can win over it. And you must accept the pain, not avoid it. You are stronger than your headaches.”
“I cannot stand them. The painkillers…”
“No. As long I am here, I will be your painkiller, okay? You”ll see that it is going to get better. It will take some time, but you”ll see that it works. Trust me.”
“What did you come to tell me, Gabriele?” asked the man taking the tie from the top of the desk.
“Do not put it on yet. You must feel free, not a prisoner of your clothes. Put it on only when you receive someone important. Right now you do not need it… Dad.”
Alessandro smiled. He felt how the boy hesitated whenever he required himself to call him Dad: he was still not used to it. “So?” he asked again.
“Do you trust Riccardo, your cousin?”
“Yeah, sure. Why?”
“To him… maybe I”m wrong… But he does not give a damn about your factory, and even less about your employees. Is he not the one in charge of staff hiring? ”
“Yes, even though for a long time we do not hire any more.”
“Riccardo thinks only of himself… and… You know that the last people he hired are almost all his friends or relatives? And that they are those who make careers more quickly than the others?”
“No. How do you know all that?” Alessandro asked, intrigued.
“You know… with my job… I am able to make people loosen up. “Cause I am able to show myself how they want me to be. That Bagarelli, for example…”
“Riccardo would want to fire him, he is certainly not… one of his protégées.”
“No, Riccardo wants YOU to fire him, to put the trade unionists against you. He makes the double play. Bagarelli is a messy guy, it is true, but Riccardo has put him there to create a situation of tension. Bagarelli should take another job, and I am sure he would do better. As shipper, Perrino would be more suitable, a very orderly type and almost fussy, who instead has to direct the maintenance team.”
“Assuming you”re right, what interest would Riccardo have playing a double game?”
“I told you, he wants things to go badly to create discontent against you, put the trade unionists against you. And if you do not do something, sooner or later he will succeed.”
“Yes, but what konyaaltı kendi evi olan escort interest would he have? What would be the gain for him? If things go wrong… he also loses, right?”
“He managed to put his pawns in the key positions, so that they learn all the tricks of the trade. If you sink, I”m sure… well… pretty sure, he would be ready to take your place in some way. I am not an expert, but… If you were to close he would re-open another factory and take your clients. The chief business officer is his sister-in-law… the sister of his wife.”
“I did not know. How did you figure that out?”
“Investigations, or corridor gossip, if you want, and a phone book… and also… one of my former clients who works here,” said Gabriele, blushing slightly.
“Another factory does not open out of nowhere. How would he do it, in your opinion?” Alessandro asked, still a little incredulous.
“If you declare bankruptcy, you do not believe that he could buy all your equipment at bargain price?”
“Yes. Yes, but…”
“He knows you”re organizing the play with Alda and me for that Mariano Gerbini?”
“No, nobody knows anything about that here; only the two of you and Ivano at home.”
“He must not know, or, I bet my head, he would do so to make Gerbini know everything. He continues asking me why you brought me here.”
“And what did you say?”
“I”m doing an internship, because I am studying corporate organization at the Bocconi in Milan.”
“Ah… and did he swallow it?”
“Yes, that”s why I warned Alda and now you. Then, I asked him how could one open a new factory with a very little capital.”
“Oh… and he told you?”
“A little. I could not insist too much, but… You know he is taking an interest in the premises of the warehouses of Zola Predosa”s Co-Op?”
“What has this to do with anything?”
“They are moving elsewhere and put them up for rent. I saw some papers on his desk. How many square meters is your factory?”
“Well, about 800 including 300 for car parks, gardens, and accesses.”
“The Co-Op of Zola has 900 with 400 free areas. Would that not be the right place to open a factory like this?”
“Yes. Still he would need capital which I do not think he has.”
“Unless he has partners ready to put down that money.”
“This too is possible. Good. I have to neutralize him, if it is so.” said Alessandro.
He called Alda in the office and brought her up to date on Gabriele”s suspicions . The woman then pointed out other details that, before the boy”s suspicions, seemed minor, but now seemed to confirm what the boy had said. Thus, with an excuse they organized a trip for Riccardo, so that he would remain abroad for a couple of months – Alessandro said he had to explore the toy markets in Australia to expand his businesses. Meanwhile, he hired a private detective agency to perform a search on Riccardo and his relationships.
Alessandro was very impressed by the skill of the boy who saw, in a few days, what he did not even remotely suspect. And during the absence of Riccardo the first reports by the agency began to arrive, which clarified and confirmed the picture painted by Gabriele.
They were at Villa Serena. It was a Sunday afternoon and in the house there were only Alessandro and Gabriele, because Rodolfo was in hospital with Clara, as her waters had begun to break, and Ivano had accompanied them with his car. The man was wearing only pyjama trousers and a robe of bottle-green silk. The boy was still wearing the jogging suit.
Alessandro was tense, agitated, and consulted some documents in his studio. Gabriele, sitting on the sofa, was reading a novel. The man uttered a slight groan, and the boy looked up from the book at him.
“What is it, Alessandro?” he asked.
“Nothing. I feel tired. I feel all the muscles knotted. Perhaps this morning I did too much gym, I do not know. And I”m worried.”
Gabriele stood up: “Forget for a while all that stuff and lie on the couch a few minutes.”
“No, I want to put these cards into place by tonight.”
“You can do it later. If it helps, I”ll give you a hand. Now lie down here; listen to me.”
“Gabriele there is no need…”
“Come on, blockhead! Get down here for a few minutes,” insisted the boy.
Alessandro sighed, put down the papers and stood up. He went to lie down on the couch. Gabriele came and told him to turn around on his belly, close his eyes and do the breathing exercise he had taught him. The man obeyed. The boy began to massage his back, kneading his muscles with ability.
“You”re tougher than a stockfish. Relax and you”ll see that I”m going to put you back in shape in a few minutes. After you”ll be able to work even better,” he said in a low and quiet tone.
It was not the first time in twenty days that Gabriele had made him relax with his massage. The boy was smart, and undergoing those massage gave Alessandro a vague sense of well-being. The only drawback was however, being massaged by Gabriele brought back to his memory the massages that, more than thirty years before, Ulrico had made him… and this resulted in the man a sense of discomfort and pleasure strangely mixed at the same time..
That day, Gabriele”s massage seemed even more effective than the other times. Alessandro relaxed completely, closing his eyes. The sense of well-being was total. He let the boy turn him over, let him loosen his robe. The hands on his bare skin made him shiver intensely… and caused in him a pleasurable erection.
This time the memory of the massages of Ulrico was not something vague, indistinct, blurred, but on the contrary was as vivid as if a film ran against his closed eyelids. This time he saw clearly the naked body of Ulrico, saw his handsome smiling face, saw him bend over to kiss him…
He opened his eyes and the face of Ulrico blurred with that of Gabriele, Gabriele”s smile took the upper hand over that of Ulrico… Ulrico”s lips turned into those of Gabriele and he kissed him…
Alessandro hugged the bare shoulders of Ulrico-Gabriele and pulled him down… their mouths joined with a burning konyaaltı otele gelen escort passion… Alessandro”s hands rested on the small, hard buttocks of Gabriele-Ulrico… felt his hard member press against the hard one of Gabriele… and of Ulrico… and of Gabriele… and of…
“I want you!” the man whispered hoarsely, feeling his head spin as if he were drunk.
“Yes…” murmured Ulrico… No, it was Gabriele…
He wondered when and how the boy had freed himself of the jogging suit… but who cared? He wanted him, wanted him strongly. One of his fingers went into the hot furrow and there fumbled till it located the hidden hole, and felt it soft and quivering… He lightly rummaged in it and the faint whine of the boy made the desire blaze in him.
The man was not even aware of when and how he had pulled off his robe, if it had been him or the boy who took off his pyjama trousers… He had that fresh strong, warm and sweet body in his arms, between his legs, and he wanted it!
He had in his arms Ulrico and also all the men who, for thirty years, he had unconsciously, secretly admired, desired without admitting it even to himself, and he had in his arms Gabriele, that sweet and nice boy who did want anything but to be his!
The two naked bodies of the man and of the boy were intertwined on the narrow couch, sliding against each other, one on the other in an endless search for pleasure. The man”s hands were exploring an unknown, or rather a forgotten, and sweet land; the boy”s hands roamed on lands left empty for far too long, resurrecting the life in them.
The lips of the man drank in forgotten sources, those of the boy made return to life, sources long dried up… The tongue of the two lingered in old and yet new games, and the desire that burned in the strong man”s loins grew more intense.
The man was over the boy”s body, and felt it warm and quivering beneath him. The boy put his legs on the slender man”s waist, and with a hand led the hard, hot, strong, firm member of the man toward its goal. The man planted his knees and began to push.
“Take me…” the boy whispered with a sweet and excited voice.
“Yes… Ulrico… here… I am…” the man said in a voice hoarse with passion and began to push.
Gabriele was not disturbed on hearing Alessandro calling him by that name -he understood that two halves of a broken thread were about to reconnect, he felt the two ends of a straight line, instead of moving away to infinity, were joined together closing a circle.
The boy felt the man open his way into him, spread his eager sphincter, and fill it, slowly and inexorably sinking into it. The man”s eyes were closed and there was a blissful expression on the handsome, manly face. The boy welcomed the man in himself with a pleasure that he had never experienced in his young life with none of his many customers, with a happiness that he had never known.
When the man was fully and firmly driven in, he opened his eyes and met the smiling and happy gaze of the boy. Then he began to move back and forth, with manly vigour, in a strong rhythm, subconsciously synchronous with the beat of his own heart, with the pulsing of the blood in his veins.
The boy moved under him with art, but unlike with other men, was not something studied, planned for, but spontaneous, instinctive. He wanted to give to the man all the joy, the pleasure that his body could and was able to give. His hands rubbed the man”s nipples, caressed the strong body, the muscles rippling in the happy toil of mating.
The man felt happily drowning in the clear and bright eyes of the boy. The boy felt wrapped by the man”s passionate gaze, by the man”s burning body. The rhythm of their hearts and their breathing grew louder, deeper, and at the same time deeper and stronger became the hammering of the man inside the boy.
The shivers of one were communicated to the other; the passion of one intoxicated the other. A duet of slight moans, barely whispered, rose gradually with increasing intensity as pleasure permeated their bodies.
When the man realized, by the moans and contractions of the body of the boy, that he was having a strong orgasm, almost at once reached his own and discharged with a long, low moan in the hot and narrow depths of the boy.
They stopped, panting, feeling the decline, at first fast then slower, of the intense passion that had burned into their bodies. Their breathing and the beating of their hearts returned to normal and even their members returned to their resting sizes.
Then Alessandro rose from the couch, took several Kleenex from the box and handed some to the boy, so that he could clean while he was also cleaning himself, partly turning his back to Gabriele. He gathered his clothes from the carpet and put them on again while the boy also was dressing.
Gabriele on one side was pleased and happy, but on the other was waiting, with some trepidation, to understand what would be the reaction of the man.
Alessandro sat at his desk, as if to erect a border line, although too late, between himself and the boy.
“I should not have done it,” the said man with a smooth voice, with neither joy nor sorrow in the tone.
“But… you liked it?” Asked the boy remaining seated on the couch.
“Yes, but I should not have done that.” the man repeated.
“Why?” the boy asked.
“It was a closed chapter of my life… I was not meant to reopen it.”
“Are you angry with me now?” Gabriele asked fearing the answer.
“No, not with you, with myself. I am a grown man, you are just a kid. It was up to me to control the situation, not you. For you I am just one of many, after all.”
“No, you”re not one of many,” said the boy, a little crestfallen. “It is not the bitch who did it with you, not the hustler. Not for the money. I thought it was clear now. It is not out of duty… you cannot think that, you cannot treat me like a whore…” he added sadly.
Alessandro at these words looked at him a little surprised at the intensity of the tone of the boy: “No, I didn”t think so, nor do I. I did not mean to, really. I have no right, nor any konyaaltı rus escort intention to offend you, Gabriele. You just did what your instincts, your desire suggested to you, I know… ”
“You too have only done what your instinct and desire suggested,” the boy pointed out sadly.
“But a man is precisely defined by his ability to lead his own instincts and not be dominated by them,” said Alessandro.
“But a man dies inside if he suppresses his own instincts,” Gabriele contradicted him. “I did not mean to make you feel bad, on the contrary…”
“I”m not feeling bad. I”m okay, I admit. Yes, my body is fine. It”s my head that is full of confusion at this moment. And it is not your fault, I repeat. I”m neither angry nor disappointed with you. ”
“I”ll go up in my room. If you need me, call me… Dad!” Gabriele said, getting up and going out from the studio.
That last word, Alessandro felt it, was like a slap that the boy had thrown him in the face. It was like a wall way more solid than his desk. He was sorry; he did not want to hurt the boy. But what troubled the man more, was that, physically, he had liked what he had done with that boy. He had liked it too much.
He thought back to Ulrico and the meetings with him. To the “cures” to which his father had submitted him, the brainwashing that the distinguished psychologist subjected him to, and he felt troubled. He thought that, letting himself go with Gabriele as he had just done, he had abruptly cancelled all those years, it had made him slip back in the years when he was just a lost teenager.
Ulrico… Gabriele… What had the two in common, apart from a pleasurable body? Apart from the light spontaneity of two teenagers on the threshold of maturity? He remembered how, in those moments, the image of his almost forgotten boyhood friend had overlapped with the boy he had taken into his house for that important play.
“Dad!” Gabriele had told him before he left and that word was, at this moment, sharper than an insult. An insult that, after all, he deserved. Gabriele and Ulrico… He had chosen that boy to impersonate the part of his son, because he unconsciously continued to look for Ulrico? Yes, physically they could have some similarities… and yet Donato Giorgetti resembled him much more, and he had never felt the desire to take him to bed, to make love with him.
Gabriele had thrown himself to lay prone on the bed and tears of rage fell from his eyes. What a stupid boy he had been! He had given himself to the man, glad that he finally gave space to his desire. That he finally agreed to give him what he desired. For once, he had deceived himself thinking it was a meeting between two human beings, between two souls, not only between two bodies, and not a meeting between customer and hustler.
But then, what could he expect? How could he deceive himself so? Be so naive? They signed a contract, after all. And sex was not included in it, right? Yes, excluded, and not simply not included.
“Asshole! Asshole! You”re just an asshole, Alessandro! You”re, so decent, so all in one piece. And I”m an asshole too, to believe that you had a heart. No, you only have a brain of which you are proud, and a dick of which you are ashamed! But no heart, no soul, in you! ” he murmured softly, but with anger, still crying, clawing the sheets.
Neither of them had realized, as they were joining on that sofa, that Ivano had returned, nor that through the glass studio door overlooking the garden, he had seen them.
Ivano had quietly disappeared, and was now waiting in the kitchen, still fully clothed, waiting for the right time to warn them that he had returned home. Unwittingly, he heard the whole conversation between the two. Then he heard the footsteps of the boy on the stairs, and he still waited a little. Then got up and knocked on the studio door of Alessandro.
“Excuse me, sir, I just returned from the hospital. Do you need anything?” he asked ceremoniously, as always.
“No, Ivano thank you. Or rather… yes, can you make me a coffee, please?”
“Certainly, Sir. I will take off my coat and…”
“How”s your daughter? Is the grandchild already born?” asked the man, before he came out.
“Not yet, but it”s only a matter of hours, the doctor says. Rodolfo remained with her…”
“Yes, he did well. The Romanian waitress, when will she arrive?”
“She”s already here, sir. I asked her to come in the morning, when you are not at home. The rest I can do by myself. I”m going to make the coffee, sir.”
Ivano prepared two cups of coffee. He took one to Alessandro then went with the other to the room of the boy. He knocked and entered. He saw that the boy had been crying.
“Excuse me, sir, I took the liberty of bringing you a coffee.”
“Thank you, Ivano. Leave it there,” said the boy getting out of bed.
“Excuse me, sir, may I dare to talk to you… my heart in my hand?”
“Yes?” Gabriele said, looking surprised at that request.
“My son Luca… as you probably know is gay, and…”
“And he said… what I do? That I am a hustler?” Gabriele asked feeling a little uncomfortable.
“No… not that… just that you too are gay…” the man said with a smile.
“Oh god… I thought… now you…” said Gabriele, blushing and stammering.
“Sir, now that I know you a little… I”m not going to say it to the master.”
“Alessandro? He already knows. But… now what you think of me?”
“Sir… a father who has a gay son, who loves him, who understands him, who knows him as he knows his problems, and also knows the lover of his son, Fabio… develops some sensitivity. Furthermore, without wanting to… I heard what you and the master said after… after what happened between you. ”
“Were you at home?” Gabriele asked blushing again.
“I had just come in and… Listen to me… what I want to tell you I cannot tell the master, but I have known him since he was a boy of your age. You see, young master, I think that Mr. Alessandro in reality…” said the man with a gentle smile to the boy who now listened to him carefully.
CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 8
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