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Becoming a Philosopher 25
Tom speaks...
Martin and I waited impatiently in the arrival hall at Cape International. Trolley after trolley came past but Franco didn't appear. Then when we had almost given up Franco appeared wearing a purple golf shirt and chinos. His broad smile set us at ease as we hugged and greeted him. It was wet and cold, a typical Cape winter day, and Franco immediately took out a jumper from his overnight bag. He said that his bag hadn't been put onto the carousel and that the baggage people fortunately located it. We sat and had a coffee together and Franco and Martin spoke.
"It is good to meet you, Martin. Thank you so much for allowing me to stay with you and Tom, I appreciate the time you are giving up. I am so glad to get to know some of Carlo's friends."
Martin gave me an unobtrusive thumbs-up, which meant that he liked Franco. I was happy as a long visit could be awkward otherwise. We drove back to the apartment in the rain the windscreen wipers having to work overtime. It was a fine drizzle coupled with a cold wind.
I showed Franco his room, which we had tidied up, and hung two framed architectural drawings by Carlo. He loved the view, and I told him that it was much better when the weather was better. Franco unpacked his Franciscan habit and hung it in the cupboard. He took off his jumper and his shirt came off in the process revealing a well-sculptured body, which I never noticed in Verona. I would never have guessed that he was thirty. He sat on the bed in silence and began to cry, and I sat down next to him with my arm around him. He kept saying that he couldn't believe that his brother was dead. Martin came into the room and sat down on the other side of Franco and we both held him.
We went down to our favourite pizza place for supper. Mario had been making pizzas in the neighbourhood for thirty years. When he heard that Franco was Carlo's brother and a priest in Verona, he said that that supper was on the house.
"We loved your brother, and he ate here regularly, I am so glad you are here. Please send my greetings to your mother and father, they used to eat here as well."
Mario brought out a bottle of his special house wine and served it with pride, wanting to know what Franco thought. Franco being a people person and a wonderful parish priest said:
"Mario, I think that this wine might even taste better than the wine tasted at the wedding feast in Cana!"
Franco was very intelligent and had obtained his doctorate at the Gregorian University in Rome. He had a gift with languages and in his dissertation had looked at New Testament stories through Arab eyes. Martin and I would learn later that he was going through a crisis of faith, and that he wasn't sure that he still wanted to be a priest. He loved working with people, listening to their problems, and engaging on a human level. But he didn't find the religious ritual meaningful and was reassessing this. He was also trying to work through his own sexual identity. Carlo's death had been a catalyst stirring up many emotions.
We were all up early the next morning and prepared for an overnight trip to Hermanus. This beautiful seaside town is situated in Walker Bay on the South Coast of the Western Cape, and it is about a two-hour drive from Cape Town. We wanted to show Franco the whales. Several different whale species can be seen in the area all year, but it was the Southern Right whales that made Hermanus world-renowned. This was the best time for whale watching with large numbers of Southern Right Whales congregating to mate.
We stayed in my aunt's cottage. It had a lounge with a sleeper couch and a room with a double bed. It was small but it had a magnificent view over the ocean, where we could sit and watch the whales from the veranda. That afternoon we explored the many art galleries and restaurants and even did some wine tasting in the town. We had far too much to drink and walked back to the cottage before nightfall.
Martin made a fire, and we sat in the lounge in the glow of the flames in our underwear. I still couldn't get over how much Franco looked like Carlo. He was very beautiful in the flickering firelight, and he sat on the floor in front of Martin who gently massaged his shoulders. Martin was wearing his running shorts, and I could see his erect dick tenting in his shorts. I went to fetch another bottle of wine and returned to find him massaging Franco's muscular chest. Franco was wearing a pair of long white johns, and his dick was also hard. I filled our wine glasses and sat next to Franco on the floor. The fire crackled when Martin added more wood, I leaned over and gave Franco a long deep kiss. Martin brought through the bedding, and we made a bed in front of the fire.
I took off my sleep shorts and the guys followed my lead, and we snuggled together under the duvet. Both Franco and Martin tasted like the red wine we were drinking, I went down and took Franco's dick into my mouth. The wine taste in my mouth overpowered any taste of precum. Franco's dick looked very much like his brothers'.
My mind flashed back to the first time Carlo and I were together in the apartment...We chilled in the lounge for a while and Carlo took out a bottle of limoncello which he had brought back from Italy. We sat together drinking on the couch and I could see the tent in his pants, I was hard too, and I felt a kind of energy between us, maybe a bit more of the Wonka magic. After three months of restraint, I leaned over and kissed Carlo and tasted the stickiness left by the limoncello. Carlo moved closer wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. I ran my hands over his muscular chest. We stripped, and I finally got a close-up view of his dick. He was hard, not too long but he had good girth. I couldn't restrain myself any longer and took his sweaty dick into my mouth. He tasted good and I eagerly moved up and down his shaft playing with his head and foreskin. He pushed me off and began to suck me. His mouth was warm, and he was an expert. I soon stopped him, as I didn't want to cum too quickly.
Martin's warm mouth on my dick brought me back to the present. He played with my balls and his finger pushed into my hole. Martin knew how to give head and he was good. I had to stop him before I came too quickly. An aerial view of three men pleasuring each other in the glow of the firelight would be beautiful, and I imagined microdrones hovering just under the ceiling capturing the moment.
Franco pulled out and said he needed to taste Martin. Martin's dick was rigid and parallel to his stomach. I always marvelled at how long he kept an erection and just how stiff it was. Franco took his dick into his mouth and within seconds Martin shot his load. He apologised and said that he was just so incredibly worked up. Franco said that his cum tasted great. At that point, I filled Martin's mouth with my load. Martin and I now focused our attention on Franco, and we were eating his cum in no time. We were all exhausted and snuggled up for the night.
The next morning, we cleaned up the cottage, locked it up, and made our way to a nearby wine estate. Franco said that he had enjoyed the day with us and appreciated our openness. The wine estate was set on the slope of a mountain, and we drove through oak trees that lined the road. Franco was taken aback by the beauty of the scene, fortunately, the sky was bright blue, and the sunshine reflected on the cellar's whitewashed buildings. It was a little too early for wine tasting but we couldn't say no. I bought three bottles of wine to take back with us, and we headed off to another estate just outside Stellenbosch where we had been an early lunch.
We collected our picket basket of fresh bread, pâtés, cheeses, and cold meats. Martin and Franco found a shady table and spread the tablecloth. Franco wore a T-shirt and shorts, his olive-coloured skin accentuated by the white shorts. He was a good-looking guy, and probably one of the best-looking priests I'd ever seen. Martin was attracted to him, just as much as I was. I saw how he touched him and how he made eye contact. I think Franco was enjoying this energy and felt comfortable. Franco blessed the food, and our stomaches were satisfied.
The weather was still clear when we got back to the apartment, and Franco got to see the view from his bedroom window before the sun went down. Franco prepared a quick pasta for dinner, and we sat around the dining room table enjoying the company. I told them that I had booked two weekend nights at the hotel we stayed at with Sven earlier in the year. There was always a risk of bad weather, but there was enough to do if it rained. Martin thought it would be a good idea to invite our new friend Eckhardt.
After showering Franco asked if he could sleep with us again. Both Martin and I agreed, and he brought his pillow across from the other room. We assigned the middle spot to Franco and none of us bothered putting on sleep shorts.
Martin speaks...
I've always been amazed by Tom. He has a wonderful way of connecting with people and including everyone. I didn't mind sharing him, I never felt neglected, and I think he felt the same way. Our time with Sven had brought us closer together, and in some ways, enriched our relationship.
I asked Franco to share what he was thinking, and he said that he was confused. He said was enjoying the intimacy and enjoying getting to know us. As for him being a priest and celibacy and that sort of thing, he said that he filed it in the back of his mind. However, he couldn't escape from his Catholic guilt, but this experience was fantastic. We were talking and playing with each other's erections as we spoke. I told Franco about Eckhardt who had grown up in Windhoek. He was a first-year medical student and was coming to grips with his identity at university. We really liked him. He was a little reticent at first, but another friend, Joel, helped break the ice.
We all met at our apartment on Friday afternoon. Eckhardt had postponed his return trip to Windhoek saying that he was much more excited to spend the weekend with us. It took us nearly two hours to get to Langebaan. Tom had fallen asleep in the seat next to me, and Eckhardt and Franco hadn't stopped talking since we left. Franco had done a course in medical ethics in Rome, which proved to be a good topic for debate. Eckhardt challenged him and said that he was conservative. At one point the conversation became quite animated and told them to shut up and to kiss and make up.
Tom woke up during the debate and said that Franco and Eckhardt were coming from two different philosophical positions. Franco was using classical Thomistic philosophy, while Eckhardt was arguing more from a situational ethics point of view.
I liked our extremely good-looking German twink. I caught glimpses of him in the rearview mirror - six feet tall, with dusty blond hair, blue eyes, and a well-sculptured body. I watched his incredible legs, and it looked as if he was going commando in his white shorts. And I felt a tinge of guilt about the way I looked at him.
We ended up in the same room we had on our first visit. It had a small lounge and two double beds and overlooked the Langebaan Lagoon. We arrived just in time to watch the sunset. Tom took out four beers to the bar fridge and I opened a couple of packets of crisps. I told everyone to get some warm clothes on so that we could walk to the lagoon before dinner. Tom said it was too cold to hire the Flying Dutchmen and said they should rather look at hiring a motorboat the next day.
I pulled Eckhardt aside and asked him if he minded sharing the bed with Franco, or whether he would rather share with Tom or me. He replied that he would be more comfortable with one of us. I told Tom that he was sharing with Franco as we walked back to dinner. The award-winning chef recognised us, came to greet, and told us about the menu she had put together. She advised us on which wine to choose and hoped that we enjoyed the meal. Eckhardt had never been in such a smart restaurant before and felt a little intimidated, so I placed my hand on his thigh and told him to relax and that I would look out for him. He smiled as he took another sip of wine.
A local singer entertained us in the bar area playing cover versions. The pub was not that full for a Friday night. We continued to drink local craft beers and by eleven when the last set was played, we headed back to our room. We were all mellow and Eckhardt was far less prickly, he kept slipping his hand into my pocket and grabbing my dick. I noticed that Franco was attracted to him and that they had also been touching a lot.
Eckhardt was nineteen and the youngest, he was also the best-looking of us. Tom grabbed him as soon as we got into the room and gave him a deep kiss. Franco embraced him too and kissed his neck. Eckhardt was very ticklish and pushed them away.
We loved the deluxe shower when we visited last, and I knew that it would comfortably accommodate the four of us. We stripped as we continued fooling around. We were all hard when we climbed into the shower with its double jets of water. My dick my parallel to my stomach and I felt very horny. Tom's dick bounced around and he used it to poke us. Franco was also hard and slowly wanked himself as he leaned against the wall.
Eckhardt was an adonis. His dick was also parallel to his stomach, it was a good length, and it was framed in blondish-brown pubic hair. Tom went down on his knees and wrapped his lips around Eckhardt's dick, who used his hips to fuck his mouth. I was down on my knees and took Franco's dick into my mouth. I played with his foreskin, and he groaned as he pulled out and shot his cum onto the shower floor. Eckhardt groaned as he filled Tom's mouth with his teen cum. Eckhardt leaned over and kissed Franco. Tom and I stood kissing each other under the shower jet and wanked each other vigorously and shot onto each other. We used the floral-smelling shower gel to wash each other.
Tom and I enjoyed shower sex. I loved the feeling of someone else's hands massaging my body, and I couldn't get enough of Eckhardt's beautiful young body. To be honest I think that Tom and Franco felt the same way. After a while, we all hard again and left the shower, dried off, and moved the two double beds together. We spent the night together. It was a good night.
We slept in and just made it to breakfast. I had a bit of a hangover and couldn't eat too much. Eckhardt was ravenous and had two helpings. Franco told me that he felt guilty about his behaviour, and I whispered to him: "Forgive yourself. Love yourself." I knew about Catholic guilt and had learned how to exorcise it from my mind.
After breakfast, Tom and I put on our Speedos. Franco and Eckhardt put on their board shorts, applied sunscreen, and walked down to the beach to find a motorboat to hire.