Finally Together

FINALLY TOGETHER by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2006 written on July 21, 1994 translated by the author English text kindly revised by Brian

USUAL DISCLAIMER

"FINALLY TOGETHER" 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.

CHAPTER 4 - THE GOOD SAMARITAN

"No... really..." Marco started to say trying to stand up, but the bartender pushed him down firmly.

Then curtly said him, "Stay there and don't make me waste my time, now." Then he started to rapidly put the premises in order. When he finished and had his jacket on, he helped Marco stand up and, holding him with an arm under his armpits and around his back. Helped him out of the bar. He closed the shutter and set off towards the hotel.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't want to..." Marco mumbled.

"These things happen." The other said quietly.

"Did I pay you for the refreshments?" Marco asked.

The man sniggered, "Yes, don't worry. Here, we are at the hotel. Give me your room key, I'll see you to your room."

"You don't need to. Really..."

"I don't want you to fall down the stairs, do I? If one goes so far, he might as well finish the job. Give me your key." The bartender insisted, then, addressing to the night doorkeeper, "Ciao Giò, I'll take your client upstairs. He drank more than he should have."

The doorkeeper nodded and resumed reading his newspaper. The bartender went up the staircase, holding Marco up bodily, opened the room door, and made him enter, sat him down on the bed and put the key near him.

"Can you manage to hit the bed alone, now?" he asked, looking at him.

"Yes... yes, thank you."

"Good night, then." The man said and left, closing the door behind him.

Marco pulled off his shoes with a struggle, then let himself fall on the mattress without having the strength to undress and fell asleep at once. He woke up the day after, in the afternoon. He felt dazed. He slowly undressed himself and went to wash in the sink, as best as he could. The cold water cleared his head somewhat. He dried himself and dressed again. He felt hungry. He went out to eat at a pizza shop. Then he remembered the bartender. He looked for the bar and found it quite easily - he remembered the big neon sign with the green letters "Al Duomo" (At the Cathedral) that attracted his attention as, without the two capital letters alight, it looked like "l uomo" (the man)...

He went in. Behind the counter there was a young man, possibly thirty-year-old, and a couple of twenty-year-old boys. He didn't recognize any of them, but went to the older one.

"Sorry... but yesterday night..."

"Oh, good evening. Do you feel better, today?" the man asked him with a wide smile, recognizing him.

"Yes, thank you. I wanted to apologize for..."

"Bah, don't mention it. The main thing is you feel OK, now."

"Yes... Can I sit down?" Marco asked, embarrassed.

"Certainly yes. What may I give you? A straight whisky like yesterday?"

"Yes, thank you..." Marco answered and went to sit at one of the free tables in a corner. The bartender came with his whisky and put it in front of him.

"I hope, tonight, not to give you any more problems..." Marco said, feeling embarrassed.

"Don't worry it was no problem at all. Have your drink and don't worry." The young man said, with a smile.

Marco sipped his whisky, very slowly. Then asked for another one. He drink it so slowly, time never seemed to pass. But he didn't feel like hitting the bed yet. So he asked for his third whisky. Then a fourth one, but he didn't drink it all, as he fell asleep on the small table.

At closing time, the bartender sent the two waiters away, tidied the premises, then went to sit at Marco's table. He shook him gently several times.

"Let's go." He said simply.

"Ah, eh... I'm so sorry..."

"No, no problem. What's your name?"

"Marco..." the young man answered feeling totally dazed and slightly ashamed.

"Good, Marco, my name is Lorenzo. Let's go, now." He said holding him up again with his arm under Marco's armpits, with a strong grip.

"I..." Marco started to say.

"You must have a serious problem, to drink like this, don't you?" the bartender said, with a light, friendly smile.

"Er... yes..."

"And do you believe you can solve by drinking?"

"No, but like this I don't think of it."

"Sooner or later you'll have to face it, don't you think?"

"Later... not now, not today..." Marco wailed.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-five..."

"I'm twenty-eight. We are almost of the same age. But you are not from Genoa, right?"

"Yes, I am."

"So, why do you live in a hotel?"

"I don't have a place anymore..."

"Work?"

"Neither."

"Ah... careful of the steps..." he warned Marco while helping him to climb to his room. He opened the door for him and, like the previous night, sat him on his bed before leaving him.

The same thing happened three more nights. Now they called each other by name. Marco went to the bar after supper, drank until he got drunk, Lorenzo took him to his room after closing time.

The third night, Lorenzo sat at Marco's usual table and woke him up.

"Marco..."

"Eh? Ah, yes, we go?" he mumbled.

"No, wait, tonight I want to have a talk with you..."

"A talk? What about?" Marco asked, looking at him with a dazed look.

"Yes. Tomorrow the bar is closed. What will you do tomorrow night? Where will you go to get drunk?"

"Bah... somewhere..."

"Right, then to find yourself thrown on the street and possibly stabbed by somebody wanting to plunder you? This isn't a safe part of the town, don't you know? Besides the fact that you didn't shave and you look worse than a tramp. And also your clothes need a good cleaning. You cannot go on like this, can you? What are your intentions?"

"Well, to end up stabbed, not so bad..."

"Don't talk bullshit! Let's go, come." He said with a sharp tone and rising, he held him up as usual almost bodily, circling his waist. They went out and walked for a while.

At one point Marco asked, with a tired voice, "Where are you taking me? My hotel is not in this direction... We should have already been at the hotel... Where are you taking me?"

"Walk! A few more minutes and we are there." Lorenzo answered harshly.

"But where are you taking me? Were are we going?" the young man asked again with a peevish voice.

"Walk!" the bartender answered.

Marco shut up. He didn't understand, anyway he knew he didn't have the strength to oppose. And, after all, he didn't really care where the Lorenzo was taking him. After a while they stopped in front of a door. Lorenzo pulled out a key from his pocket, opened up and climbed some stairs. They went up three floors. Then the young man opened another door with a key, pushed Marco inside, and closed the door with the key. They were in a small entrance-room. He opened another door and Lorenzo guided Marco inside. There was a single bed. He made Marco sit on it.

"Good, tonight you sleep here. If you need anything, I'm sleeping in that other room, you just have to call. Can you manage to undress by yourself?"

"This is your home." Marco stated, trying to think logically.

"Sure. Can you undress or do you need some help?" Lorenzo asked with a harsh voice.

"But why... what do you want from me?"

"That you sleep in safety. Can you undress alone?"

"Yes, but..." Marco said, feeling totally dazed.

"Good night, then." Lorenzo replied curtly and left him alone, going out of the room without closing the door.

Marco started to undress. He was having difficulties, but at last, his clothes lay scattered on the floor in disorder, wearing only his tank-top and briefs, lay on the bed. He fell asleep immediately, the light still on, a leg hanging down off the mattress.

After a few minutes Lorenzo, in his pajamas, appeared at the door and looked inside the room. He went closer to Marco, moved him bodily without waking him, put his leg on the mattress, covered him with a sheet, made a bundle of Marco's clothes putting it under his arm, shut off the light, and went out as silently as he came in.

When Lorenzo woke up, the home was totally silent. After washing himself and dressing, he went to see Marco - he was still fast asleep, in the same posture he had left him. Te young man shook his head and went away. He took Marco's clothes bundle, emptied all the pockets putting their content on the kitchen table, put the jacket, trousers and shirt in a plastic bag, took Marco's hotel room key and left.

He took the clothes to a dry cleaning shop, and then went to the hotel. He spoke to the doorkeeper, who was a good acquaintance, and went with him into Marco's room. Searched in his belongings and chose a change of clothes, including underwear. Then went back home.

Even though it was almost noon, Marco was still sleeping deeply. Lorenzo went to the kitchen and started to prepare lunch. He was about to finish cooking, when Marco appeared at the kitchen door, a dazed expression in his red eyes.

"Excuse, me, but where are my clothes?" he asked in a low and hesitant voice.

"They're there. But first you'll go and have a good bath, shave and change your underwear so we can put them in the washing machine. I went to your hotel room to get you a change. Your clothes are now at the dry cleaner. When you have finished, lunch will be ready."

"But..." Marco started to say, in confusion.

"Come, the bathroom is here. Wash yourself thoroughly, you smell bad. You can use anything you need. Here's a new toothbrush, the razor is here. Use this towel." He said resolutely and left him in the bathroom, going back to the kitchen to finish preparing their lunch.

Marco bared himself, entered the tub after adjusting the water warmth and started to wash himself. The feeling was agreeable, after almost two weeks without bathing. He gradually relaxed. Then rinsed, and dried himself. He brushed his teeth, carefully shaved, and combed his hair. Then he put on the clean underwear, his shirt, trousers, then went to the kitchen, where Lorenzo had already laid the table.

"Oh, here you are, once again presentable. The content of your pockets is there on that chair. How do you feel?"

"Better..."

"You really needed a good bath. Didn't you bathe at your hotel?"

"No... there was only a communal bath... and then..."

"Well, dinner's ready."

"I don't feel like..."

"No bullshit, now you'll eat as god commands. One cannot just live off whisky... Enjoy your meal."

"But... why?" Marco asked, sitting at the table but without starting to eat.

"Why, what? You need to eat, don't you?"

"Why you brought me to your place?"

"Because I didn't want to leave you by yourself, today with my bar closed. Because you are foolhardy. When you paid me, you always put your wallet in my hands, with all your money inside. If you found somebody less honest than me... Because I don't like looking at you destroying yourself in that manner. We are almost the same age. What reason can you have to get drunk in that way?"

"I have a good reason..."

"Well, if you don't feel like telling me, I don't care. But now you eat without making any fuss!"

Marco lowered his eyes and started to eat. But after a while he stopped.

Without looking at Lorenzo, he said, "You know nothing about me... and you bring me to your place, give me food, made me take a bath, let me sleep at your home. I don't understand... Why?"

"Possibly there isn't a reason..." Lorenzo answered him with a quiet smile.

"What do you expect from me, for all this?"

"For all this? Nothing. Must there necessarily be something in exchange for everything we do? I like you, possibly, and don't like seeing you going adrift in that way. Looking at you for hours, closed into yourself, mute, looking into your glass of whisky like you wanted to drown in it... drinking until you get drunk, and you need a few glasses to reach that state - you are not an habitual drinker, you are not an alcoholic. I don't know why you chose my bar, but as you chose me..."

"It's the closest to the hotel..."

"Well, a good reason. But look at yourself, now that you are clean and shaved - you are a handsome boy, still healthy. Why do you want to waste your life so foolishly? Look for a job, busy yourself..."

"I don't feel like continuing to live."

"But you don't have the courage, or you are not coward enough to kill yourself. How can somebody not desire to live at twenty-five? I really cannot understand."

"I've no reason to desire to live. Not I, everything crumbled upon me. Everything is over..."

"A love deception?" Lorenzo asked.

"My wife left me. And she also took away my daughter..."

"But... your job?"

"I left it..."

"And that in your wallet is all the money you have?"

"Right."

"Not very much, after all. One month, two? And then? Just because your woman left you? But life goes on. A road has been closed for you, I see, but you can find a thousand different roads, can't you?"

"Which ones? And what for?"

"Which and what for, you won't find that out by getting drunk."

Marco didn't answer and started to eat again.

"Why did she leave you?" Lorenzo asked.

"Because... she found out I had a boyfriend..."

"A boyfriend? You mean you are gay?" Lorenzo asked him, without showing any surprise.

"No, I... I always liked both. I was in love with my wife, but... I also needed him. But she wouldn't accept, she didn't understand... And now I've lost both of them."

"Your boyfriend also? And why?"

"I sent him packing... almost as if it was his fault I lost my wife and my daughter..."

"And now you have nothing better to do than get drunk. Which of them do you miss most?"

"Both, I think..." Marco said doubtfully.

"Don't you think that you can find somebody else? You are young; you are a handsome boy... God knows how many would accept like a shot being your lovers, if you don't go on ruining yourself in this way. Look for a job, put yourself in order, busy yourself..."

"No... I don't feel like... Why should I?"

Lorenzo stood up, went close to him, took his arms forcing him to stand and, holding him with firmly, his eyes fixed on Marco's, he said with force, "Well, Marco, you will now look for a job and you will stop drinking, it that clear?"

"No... I don't want..."

"On the contrary, you'll do as I say!"

"But why?"

"Because I want it. Because I like you. Because I want you, Marco, but I don't want a wreck. Because..." Lorenzo said vehemently and, pulling Marco to himself, he embraced him strongly and kissed him deeply.

Marco, caught unawares, didn't react at once and for a moment abandoned himself to that passionate embrace and kiss. But then he tried to struggle to free himself, to push him away.

"No, I don't want... no... let me go..."

"No. I want you..." Lorenzo said preventing him from freeing himself.

"That's why you brought me here, then?"

"No, not at all, I didn't think of that. But now... I want you."

"Are you gay?"

"Yes, sure. But it's not the reason I brought you here, I didn't think at all to... But now I want you." He repeated embracing him with force and trying to kiss him again.

They engaged in a kind of struggle, Marco trying to free himself, Lorenzo trying to hold him. But the man-to-man struggle, and feeling Lorenzo's arousal pushing against his body, was enough to arouse Marco, so all of a sudden he let himself go, and surrendered to Lorenzo's kiss. While kissing him, the bartender pushed him gently out of the kitchen, towards his bedroom.

When Marco understood, weakly protested, "No... I don't want... please..."

"Yes, you want it, I can feel it... You want to be mine. Say it!"

"No..." Marco moaned while Lorenzo pushed him onto his king-size bed and started to open his shirt.

"Yes, Marco... let yourself go..."

"No, stop... come on..."

"I want you!"

"Let me go..."

"No... only after I make you mine..."

"But I..." Marco started to say, but Lorenzo shut him up with another deep kiss.

Marco shivered and instinctively his body answered to those intense, earnest requests. He totally stopped resisting, let Lorenzo pull off his shirt, his tank top. He felt dazed, like when he was drunk, he felt weak, defenseless between the strong, determined hands of the young man who was now opening his trousers. He abandoned himself, altogether, closing his eyes. Lorenzo was right, he too wanted it, or at least his body, fully awakened with desire, wanted it.

For a moment Lorenzo's body parted from him but soon he felt it again, totally naked, lying on him, pushing his erection against his own, closing him again in his arms and his legs, and kissing him with burning passion.

"Take me.." Marco begged, spreading his legs in an explicit invitation and closing them around the other's waist.

"Yes..." Lorenzo panted in a hoarse voice, sliding on Marco's body enough to drive his erect and shuddering member between the beautiful, straddled buttocks.

"Fuck me..." Marco, totally subdued beseeched.

"Sure..." Lorenzo answered more and more excited, guiding his rod with a hand between the two small, firm orbs, until he touched the warm, palpitating hole.

Then, pushing down on his knees, he started to push forward with a will. He felt Marco open under his shove, receive him, accept him totally. He then started to piston inside him with passionate energy, while Marco, his eyes still closed, was enjoying the intense emotions that his companion had forced him to accept. He liked the virile impetuousness of Lorenzo. He loved feeling him slide in and out, strong, steady, determined, and passionate.

Lorenzo went on taking him vigorously, caressing his chest and his belly, kneading his turgid genitals, kissing him on his lips, his neck, and enjoying the total surrender with which Marco was accepting him inside himself.

"I like you, Marco... I didn't think that... I would have liked you so much... You are a dream..."

These words were caressing Marco and arousing him at least as much as the body that was dominating, taking him. And when he felt Lorenzo quake strongly and start to unload inside him, Marco also reached his orgasm with a kind of long, low wheeze.

They relaxed, still united, and Lorenzo kissed him again, but this time with gentleness, lightly caressing him.

"I liked you, Marco. I liked you very much..." he whispered in a kind of sweet yearning.

Marco didn't answer. His eyes still closed, savouring the after-orgasm sensations, his mind totally empty.

When they were fully relaxed and their breath resumed the regular rhythm, Lorenzo slipped away from him.

"Come to take a shower, now." He said resolutely, getting up and leaving the bed.

Marco followed him. They washed in silence. Lorenzo from time to time smiled satisfied, looking at him. Marco didn't respond to those smiles.

So Lorenzo asked him, "You regret it?"

"No... You really didn't take me to your home only to... get this?"

"No. Sincerely!"

"Don't you have a boyfriend?"

"No. At times I amuse myself with one of the two waiters of my bar, as they both are gay like me. I had a man, when I was seventeen. He was the owner of that bar. I lived with him for seven years, and then he died. Cancer. When he was near dying, he wanted to change ownership; he left me the bar and this apartment. After him, I had no more lovers... Only adventures."

"Were you in love with him?"

"So very much. He was my first man. And the only one, for these seven years. He was an exceptional man."

"Youth?"

"When we met he was forty-two. He was fascinating."

"You must have suffered a lot, then..."

"A lot, yes... But life goes on..."

"Goes on..." Marco echoed him.

They dried themselves and dressed again. Then they went back to the kitchen and Marco helped Lorenzo to clear the table and to wash up.

"Marco, one of my waiters is about to leave me, he has his army service to do. Why don't you come and work for me at the bar?"

"I know nothing of that job..."

"It's easy to learn. Basic pay plus tips. In all you get a good monthly pay."

"I don't know..."

"Yes, we will do so. And you could also live here, at least until you find a place."

"You want to fuck me again?" Marco asked, straightforward.

"Well, sure. Why, don't you?"

"Bah... I like how you fuck... But I don't want any more ties..."

"Sure, both totally free, I agree. You accept, don't you?"

"I can try... But I promise nothing. You took me... you slipped through my defences..."

"To tell the truth, you did so too. I really didn't guess that you..."

"When did you think you wanted me?"

"When you told me you had had a boyfriend... Why did you tell me? That's not something one tells a stranger easily, is it? You surprised me..."

"I don't know, really. Possibly because I didn't care what you would think of me... I would never have guessed you are gay..."

"You regret it?" Lorenzo asked for the second time.

"No, not at all. I possibly needed that fuck, who knows. It's not that so much has changed, but... I still don't see what meaning my life could have, at this point... But as life goes on... I liked how you fucked me..."

"Also with your boyfriend, you took it from him?"

"Yes, and he from me..."

"But I'm not a bottom. I don't like taking it."

"No problem... Its alright so. I did not even desire it. You aroused me..."

"I'll arouse you again, then, don't doubt that..." Lorenzo said with a smile, self-assuredly.

Marco answered with a tired smile and said nothing.

The next day, Lorenzo took Marco with him at the bar and introduced him to the other two boys. Marco, before, had scarcely paid attention to them but now he looked at them more carefully. The elder one was twenty-one-year old and his name was Sirio. He was nice and likeable, somewhat coy, reserved, and he stammered a little. The other one was nineteen-year-old, his name was Tano, was extroverted, decidedly handsome, sensuous, and had a way of looking at you that made your blood mix up in your veins. The two boys welcomed Marco happily.

Marco started with the more simple tasks, washing the cups and glasses, preparing the trays and taking them to the tables, and menial tasks like these. But meanwhile he learned to prepare a good coffee and, more difficult, a good cappuccino, and to recognize the right glasses for each drink, to pour the right measures and so on.

On evening late, he closed the bar with Lorenzo, helped him to clean and put everything in order, and then went home with him. Usually he went to sleep in his single bed, but at times Lorenzo simply said him, "come in my room, tonight..." and then they made love. At times, instead he woke up in the morning feeling Lorenzo's rod trying to open his way in his ass - he received it with pleasure.

Lorenzo didn't so much like preliminaries to sex, but made love in a very erotic and passionate way and Marco enjoyed it. He never felt bothered by the sexual attentions that from time to time the young man had for him.

Beside the sex, Lorenzo was a good companion, always serene, often merry, decided in his ways, and of agreeable company. Marco let Lorenzo guide him doing everything, how and when he was told.

But more and more often Marco regretted having lost Luigi and asked himself what had become of him. He didn't dare to look for him, to call him, after so many months of total silence, but above all after the way he had turned him out of his life.

One day, going back to the bar after taking a tray of coffees to a nearby office, he asked Tano where were Lorenzo and Sirio. The boy smiled, "Can't you guess?" he asked.

"They too had to take coffees somewhere?"

"No, silly man! They are in the back-room. Lorenzo felt like fucking Sirio and now they are happily jousting..."

"Ah..." Marco said blushing slightly.

"Why not you and I go in the back-room, sometime? I would like it, before leaving for the army, being fucked by you... Or am I not your type?" the boy asked caressing him between his legs, hidden by the counter.

Marco didn't avoid that intimate caress, "Why not? You have a nice little ass, and if you feel like giving it to me, I'd willingly make you happy."

"And you, I can feel you are well endowed - I should have asked you sooner, I think. And it's also becoming hard... very good!"

CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 5

In my home page I've put some more of my stories. If someone wants to read them, the URL is http://andrejkoymasky.com If you want to send me feed-back, or desire to help revising my English translations, so that I can put on-line more of my stories in English please e-mail at andrej@andrejkoymasky.com