Rome Initiation

by ChrisCross

Copyright© 2018 by ChrisCross

Coming of Age Sex Story: During an emergency two-day air flight layover in Rome, fourteen-year-old Benjamin, flying alone from Tel Aviv to London and desperate to be initiated by men, gets his wish from a fellow passenger businessman and goes on to learning to ride to the beat and dynamics of classical music from an accomplished Italian count.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/mt   Consensual   Gay   Fiction   MaleDom   Light Bond   Anal Sex   Analingus   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Petting   Sex Toys   Size   Slow   .

Fourteen-year-old Benjamin’s father hugged his son at the Tel Aviv airport departure gate. He ruffled the boy’s black, curly hair. He was a beautiful Jewish boy—a bit small of stature, but he’d grow into his height and he otherwise was perfectly formed, with the face of an angel. The father watched the boy enter the departure tunnel for his EL Al 357 flight to London, with a stopover in Frankfurt. It was barely 5:45 in the morning and all three of them had been moving sluggishly—and conversing awkwardly. They’d had to show up at 3:00 a.m. for the hurry, hurry, hurry of baggage check-in and clearing of security and then the long wait at the departure gate. Benjamin turned at the entrance of the tunnel and looked back, but it wasn’t to his father, Jonathan, that he looked It was beyond him to the column dividing the departure lounge from the concourse to his father’s partner, Daveed. Then the boy turned and was swallowed up by the tunnel.

It would be OK, Jonathan thought, it was just one stop, in Frankfurt, to London, where Benjamin’s mother would be waiting for him at the Heathrow arrivals gate. Benjamin was supposed to be here all summer, but under the circumstances, Jonathan had to send him back to London early. He hadn’t told Mavis the real reason; she’d been happy to have been told that Benjamin was homesick. Jonathan told himself that it was best for Benjamin, but he knew deep down that he’d done it for himself. He could have split with Daveed, but Jonathan was besotted with him.

Benjamin was going home to his fashion designer mother in style. His father, feeling guilty about it all, had bought the boy a business-class seat. Benjamin had a window seat, and a man in his thirties in a natty business suit took the aisle seat after taking his suit coat off, folding it, and putting it in the overhead bin. Benjamin couldn’t help but notice, when the man stripped off his tie too, that he was body-builder muscular, with a broad, bulging, hard chest and a small waist and sandy-colored hair curling out of his neckline where his top button now undone. Benjamin felt a jolt of arousal. The man gave Benjamin a reassuring smile while he was getting comfortable in stripping off his coat and tie. Benjamin had a flash of imagining the man just continuing with the stripping. At fourteen, Benjamin was confused and his hormones were raging.

The coach-class section was crowded, but occupation of the business and first-classes was sparse. Those with business in Frankfurt today had flown from Tel Aviv yesterday.

“Are you flying alone or you didn’t want to sit with your family?” the businessman asked, as he sat in his seat and buckled up. He was a handsome man, with a good head of his sandy-colored hair, blue eyes, and a ready smile. He had turned in his seat and given Benjamin the full benefit of the smile.

“Alone. To London,” Benjamin answered. “I came to Tel Aviv by myself as well.”

“And you’re only ... what?”


“Nifty. Ready and able to take responsibility for yourself.”

“Yes,” Benjamin answered, punctuating the assent. He was more than ready to make his own decisions as far as he was concerned. He had been ready to make his own decisions about Daveed. Daveed obviously had been willing to have a relationship too. His father had no idea how ready Benjamin was and the experimenting he’d already done.

“So, you live in Israel and go to school in England?” the man asked as he settled in and the plane started moving toward the runway, the cabin attendant having given survival instructions. She also had informed them that the cabin lights would go out for the first hour and a half of the flight so that those who wanted to catch up on their sleep would have an opportunity to do so. After the initial beverage and snack service was completed, which wouldn’t take long in business class, the passengers wouldn’t be bothered for that period.

“Not quite,” Benjamin answered. “It’s both living and going to school in London. I visit my father in Jerusalem. My parents are divorced. I live with my mother in London and go to school there. She’s English and designs high fashion. I was visiting my father for the summer. He’s American but works in Jerusalem. But he didn’t think the visit was working out, so he’s sending me back to my mother early.”

“Ah, there was a man seeing you off in the departure lounge. Your father?”

“Yes,” Benjamin answered a bit tightly. “He and Daveed, my father’s partner, brought me to the airport. We came yesterday. He—Daveed—was there in the departure lounge too, but you probably didn’t see him. My father didn’t want him to hug me when I left.” Benjamin was busting to tell someone about the hypocrisy of his father.

“Partners? Business partners?”

“No. My dad’s an architect. Daveed is a lawyer. They live together. Daveed is Israeli. My dad is Jewish. My mother is too, but he’s all connected with Israel and she isn’t. Daveed is younger than my dad, and a real body-builder. He’s built like you are.”

The man decided not to pursue that further, although it certainly interested him—the dynamic he sensed going on here with the boy—the beautiful young boy, he had to acknowledge. Just the kind of boy he himself was interested in. Fourteen, the kid said. His own weakness. He had the urge to keep the kid talking—and maybe more. He changed tack. “My name is Gustav. You can call me Gus. My parents are from different countries too—my father is German and my mother is English. Sort of the same as you. And I had to grow up fast, so I think I understand where you are coming from.”

“Do you? And you live in London?”

“Outside of London. In Reading. I’m a TV producer.”

“You put together TV shows and all?” Benjamin asked, impressed. “I’ve always thought about being in movies.”

“Yes, I produce TV shows. I’m sure you’d do very well in movies. You are a handsome young man.” Yes, indeedy, Gus thought, a delicious little morsel.

“You really think so?”

“Yes, I do. In fact, let me give you my card in case you are interested in talking to me more about it in London.” He did so, and Benjamin smiled broadly. Gustav watched Benjamin reach under the seat in front of him and slip the card in the side pocket of his carryon.

Their drinks and snack were delivered then and they chatted about how TV shows were made while they ate. The cabin attendant cleared away the trays and the cabin lights went out. She passed by with blankets, and Gustav took one.

No one was in the row of seats behind theirs, so they both reclined their seat backs and closed their eyes.

After a few minutes, Gustav asked in a low voice, “Are you able to go to sleep? I’m having trouble.” In fact, he would have easily dozed off if the situation and the possibilities didn’t have his adrenaline going.

“I don’t think so. I was thinking,” Benjamin answered. He certainly couldn’t tell the man what he was thinking—about how Daveed had touched him and how he had liked that. And how he hadn’t stopped Daveed from doing that and Daveed had then touched him more intimately—and had had Benjamin touching him too. But, in the end, Daveed not having been as intimate with Benjamin as Benjamin would have liked. And about spying on his father and Daveed “doing it” in their bedroom and wanting Daveed to do it to him too. And about finding their sex toys and trying their dildo out—and liking it. He’d sure like to have someone to talk to about it though—and someone to do it with, for that matter. It hadn’t gotten far with Daveed before his father had seen them. And he’d been thinking of the man in the seat next to him taking off his coat and tie—of how muscular he was and the hair curling out of his neckline—and maybe not stop at taking clothes off there.

“Thinking about anything in particular?”

“No, just thinking,” Benjamin answered.

“Thinking about being sent home to London early?”

“Yeah, I guess so?”

“It wasn’t really your fault, was it? It was something between your father and his partner.”

“Well, I was part of it.”

“But you weren’t the one who started it, though, I’ll bet. Was it your father or his partner?”

“It was Daveed. He ... he touched me. My father saw him do it. Not the first time he did it, though.” Not the second or third time either.

“But you didn’t tell your father about the other times, did you?”


“Because you were scared or because you liked it?”

“I wasn’t scared.”

“You like it? It would be natural to like it.” Benjamin didn’t answer, but he didn’t say no. “Did he touch you here?” Gustav touched Benjamin above the knee and moved the touch of his fingers lightly up the boy’s thigh.

Benjamin looked down at the man’s hand. It was a strong hand, with curly, sandy-colored hair on the back of it. Sort of a reddish blond. Benjamin couldn’t help but wonder where else the man had hair. Did he have a sandy-colored bush too? Or did he shave that smooth, like Benjamin’s father did? Daveed didn’t shave it, though. Daveed had black curly hair all over his body.

Benjamin shuddered. “Yes.”

“But you liked it?”


“And here. Did he touch you here?” the man asked, touching the boy on the nipples through his T-shirt, first one and the other. The two were turned toward each other in the isolated row of seating. The cabin was nearly dark. Their eyes were locked, each exploring the thoughts, interest, intent, willingness of the other. The boy wasn’t drawing back.

“Yes.” Benjamin’s answer was breathy

Gustav felt emboldened. He’d successfully seduced fourteen-year-old boys before. Had his way with them All of it. Occasionally he had been their first. “And he touched you here and you liked this the best, didn’t you?” Gustav’s fingers brushed Benjamin’s crotch and then settled there.

“Yes, oh yes.”

“You’re hard down there, Benjamin. That’s nice.”

A wet spot showed on the material at Benjamin’s crotch. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it.”

“There’s no need to be sorry. It’s all part of growing up. You’re growing up. Old enough to make your own decisions and to pursue your own interests. To decide for yourself what you’re going to do, what you’re going to be. How you’re going to get your pleasures.”

“Yes, I am,” Benjamin said, almost defiantly. This man understood him. And he was so gorgeous, as compelling as Daveed had been. Muscular. Hirsute. Assertive.

“And did Daveed want you to touch him too, Benjamin?”


“Here?” Gustav took Benjamin’s hand and placed it on his crotch.


“And see, I’m hard now too. So, that’s both of us. We both like it. Was Daveed hard when you touched him?”


“And did you enjoy making him hard?”

“Yes. But we didn’t do more than touch each other with our clothes on.” They had done more than this and hadn’t always been fully clothed, but they hadn’t gone all the way, clothed or not.

“He didn’t lie on top of you? He didn’t put it inside you? It’s OK, it happened to me and it was fine. You can talk about it.”

“No. My dad caught us before there could have been anything like that.”

“But you’d like to do more, wouldn’t you? It’s OK, Benjamin. When I was fourteen, a man put it in me, and everything was fine. I liked it, and it didn’t hurt much, and then only the first time. And by the time we were finished that first time, it already was great.”

“He did. You too? At fourteen?”

“Yeah. I think that’s a good age. And it’s good to talk about it. You would have liked to do more with Daveed, wouldn’t you?”

When Benjamin didn’t answer, Gustav continued. “You said I was a lot like Daveed. I’m going to cover my lap with this blanket now and unzip myself, and I will kiss you on the lips and then I want you to touch me without my clothes on there, between my thighs—what you would have liked to do with Daveed. Do you think you’d like to do that?”

Benjamin didn’t answer but he was panting in a shallow rhythm, and when Gustav leaned over and kissed him on the mouth, he responded, opening his lips as he had done with Daveed. He gave a little jerk when Gustav moved his hand under the blanket and Benjamin touched the hard, naked shaft. But he didn’t take his hand away and he encircled the shaft with his fingers as Gustav guided him to do. It was hard and warm and it was pulsing. He ran his finger up on top of the spongy bulb and Gustav gave a low moan and shuddered. Benjamin liked having the power to make a man do that.

He gave another little jerk and a moan of his own when Gustav unzipped him and grasped his cock as well, but they were kissing, so not more sound came out of him than that. Gustav gave a deep groan as well.

“You say you didn’t do it with Daveed?” Gustav murmured in a deep growl when they came out of the kiss. Neither lost hold of the other’s cock, though. “Did you go all the way with Daveed?”

“No, my father saw us before we could.”

“But you would have if there had been an opportunity and Daveed said he wanted to put it in you?”


Oh, lord have mercy, a willing virgin boy, Gustav thought, and he began moving his hips, causing his shaft to move in the sheath of the boy’s hand. He had him. The boy would take it if they could find a place. The boy was aching for it and ripe for it.

His mind raced to how they could do it here. Where they could do it. In a men’s room in the Frankfurt terminal during the layover there? What positions could he fuck the kid in in a public toilet stall? Did the Frankfurt terminal have those single-occupant family toilets where it could just be them behind a locked door? He couldn’t remember. Would it be too messy for them to come with the hand jobs here? Tough shit if it was, he decided. There had to be at least that much gotten out of this. Could he get the kid to suck him off? How would that work here?

Just then, though, the lights came up quickly in the cabin and both of them felt the pull left as the plane made a tight turn. They barely had time to come out of the clutch when the cabin was full of confusion and activity. It hadn’t been an hour and a half since they’d taken off from Tel Aviv. A cabin attendant came on the address system and said something, first in German. Benjamin turned and looked at Gustav’s face, which had turned a bit white. He looked concerned. Then, in English, she informed the passengers that, unfortunately, the plane would have to make an unscheduled stop. It was going to land in Rome. The stewardess’s voice wavered a bit as she gave the announcement—her nerves seemed more pronounced when she was speaking German and Benjamin couldn’t understand precisely what she was saying.

But Gustav could understand her and he turned to the boy and said, “Don’t be afraid. Stick with me and I’ll take care of you. I’ll take very good care of you.”

As the plane was taxiing in to Rome’s Fiumicino airport terminal, on Italy’s western coast, the captain came on the speaker system. His voice was calm, but what the passengers could see on the outside of the plane wasn’t reassuring. The plane wasn’t taxiing to the terminal. It was rolling out to the edge of the field and trucks, sirens blazing, were racing toward it. It wasn’t the only plane gathering out here on the fringe. All the rest were the same airline as this one—El Al, the Israeli national carrier.

“Sorry for the diversion, folks,” the captain said, in English. His accent was Israeli. “No need for panic, but we are facing a forced layover. As soon as we come to a stop, the doors will open and the chutes will unfurl. Take your shoes off, please, walk as carefully and orderly as possible to the doors, and as quickly, please. We have to evacuate the aircraft.”

“Stay with me; I’ll take care of you,” Gustav muttered again to Benjamin and he put his arm around the boy and guided him toward the nearest exit, keeping him from being jostled by any of the other panicked passengers.

Only when they got to the terminal, delivered in buses, and they were being sorted out, did the passengers learn that two El Al transcontinental flights had been blasted out of the air while Flight 357 was en route and the whole El Al flight was being brought down for inspection and investigation. The passengers would be accommodated on other flights—on other carriers—to Frankfurt and London as they could be booked.

Gustav kept an arm around Benjamin, telling anyone who looked at them that he was in charge of the boy.

The terminal at Rome airport was a study in chaos and confusion, thanks to the sudden influx of forced layover passengers from the grounding of El Al aircraft in the area. This was exacerbated by the effects of a not-all-that-recent fire that had destroyed much of the terminal and hadn’t been fully cleaned up yet. Angry, upset, and otherwise bleary-eyed passengers were roaming around looking for ticket agents, who had not been fully mobilized yet. When instructions starting coming in over a loudspeaker, though, the situation started calming down.

Through it all, Gustav kept Benjamin close to him.

An announcer explained that they would get everyone on their way to their destinations with rewoven connections, which was met with sighs of relief, but when they added that they couldn’t get it all done that day, the hubbub started again. Extra agents came into the part of the terminal the passengers from multiple flights had been herded into and people were forming around them before they could even get to wherever they were going to work their magic on flight connections. A voice came on the public-address system again asking people to let the agents get to their stations—and asking them in Italian, Hebrew, English, French, German, so it was taking time to get the information across to everyone.

Seeing the young Benjamin standing there, looking lost and vulnerable, even though Gustav was just a step away, one of the airline agents beckoned him to a ticket terminal. Gustav followed him over.

“The boy is traveling alone, to London,” Gustav told the agent. “I was on the plane with him and am making sure he is taken care of”—until I can take care of him myself, Gustav added in this thought. “We’re both going to London, so we probably should be on the same flight—and the same hotel tonight, so that I can continue looking after him and the airline doesn’t have to free someone to help him.”

“It may be a day or two longer than one night, I’m afraid,” the agent said. “Flights have been telescoped by this emergency and it’s summer. Peak travel season in Italy. I’ll do the best that I can. I see that there are rooms available right here by the terminal in the Hotel Rome Airport Fiumicino. Will that be all right?—and a flight the day after tomorrow.”

“Yes, fine. Separate rooms, of course.”

“Of course,” the agent answered with a tight smile.

“His mother will need to be notified of the change in flight plans—and quickly,” Gustav said. “She will be leaving to meet him at Heathrow soon. And she’ll need to be assured the boy is in good hands during his layover. You can certainly tell her the airline is taking care of that.” For reasons of his own, he didn’t want the mother to be able to connect him with Benjamin. He’d already retrieved his business card from where Benjamin had slipped it into the side pocket of his carryon. Once Gustav had done what he intended to do here in Rome with the boy, he wanted to be untraceable.

“We can take care of that, of course,” the agent said, accepting Benjamin’s London contact numbers from the boy. After taking note of that, the agent handed Benjamin a packet. “Here, son, is a benefits package for your layover. We’ll cover all meals, of course. And there’s a 200-euro courtesy award for the inconvenience. Your bags are being offloaded. Carousel 3 in the baggage area.”

Benjamin took the packet and thanked the agent. It was only while they were waiting for their baggage to hit the carousel that he realized a roundtrip train pass into the city, thirty kilometers away, had been included. He wouldn’t need that if his hotel was right here at the airport.

After they had received their room cards at the Hilton reception desk, Gustav suggested, “It’s been a nerve-wracking day already. Let’s have a drink in the bar before we go to our rooms.”

“Will I be allowed in the bar?”

“Just hold your key card in your hand. They won’t stop a hotel guest. And you can order a Coke.”

Benjamin did order a Coke but when it and Gustav’s stiff drink came, Gustav switched them, with a smile. “Here, you probably need this more than I do.”

“But I don’t—”

“Come on, let loose a bit. You are alone in Rome and old enough to make your own decisions.”

“So I am,” Benjamin said, giving Gustav a meaningful look over the rim of the liquor glass as he sipped from it. This wasn’t really new to him either. He’d sampled the bottles behind the bar in his father’s Tel Aviv apartment as well as messing around with Jonathan’s sex toys and, eventually, with Daveed a bit. Sometimes the drinks he’d made were as strong as this one—and left him a little hazy like this one was doing.

When the second round of drinks came, the same switch was made. Benjamin was more than a bit woozy as they headed for the elevators to the rooms. Gustav hefted the heavy bags, while Benjamin was left with the light stuff. He notice once again—approvingly—how muscular Gustav was. He had a great body. “We’ll leave your bag in your room first and then take mine to my room, OK?” Gustav asked. He had asked with a light voice, but this was a crucial point.

“OK,” Benjamin responded.

In Gustav’s room, Benjamin stood at the window, watching planes landing and taking off on the nearby runway. “Your room is neater than mine,” the boy said. “You get to watch the planes come in and out. I’m on the opposite side. I don’t see nothin’ from over there.”

“Your side is better for sleep,” Gustav said, coming in close behind Benjamin and wrapping an arm around the boy’s chest. It was a test. Benjamin didn’t pull away. Gustav ran the hand down the front of Benjamin’s chest on top of the T-shirt and then up again, under the boy’s T. Bare palm on the boy’s bare chest. He was nicely developed for his age. Benjamin didn’t even flinch—at least until Gustav rolled one of the boy’s nipples between his thumb and a finger. That was rewarded with a low moan. But Benjamin didn’t pull away.

They were going to do this. Gustav was going to fuck the boy. The kid was ripe for it; he’d love it.

“Yeah, I guess you couldn’t get much sleep on this side,” Benjamin conceded. He placed his hand on Gustav’s forearm and caressed it.

“I wasn’t planning on sleeping for a while anyway,” Gustav said. “You know what I mean by that?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Benjamin responded in a low voice.

“You going to let me do it? You going to let me put it in you?”

“Be good to me,” Benjamin pleaded.

“I’ll be very good to you. We’ll go slow.”

Gustav pressed his face in the hollow of Benjamin’s throat and kissed him there. Benjamin moaned and turned his face to Gustav’s. They went into a deep kiss, and Gustav unbuckled and unzipped Benjamin’s trousers and pushed the trousers and his briefs down to the boy’s ankles. Benjamin stepped out of them. Gustav was already unzipped and exposed and, as they kissed, Gustav raised and lowered his body on his toes, rubbing the underside of his hard cock up and down the small of Benjamin’s back.

Benjamin neither objected nor withdrew.

The cock slid into Benjamin’s crack and the underside rubbed up and down on Benjamin’s hole. He didn’t withdraw from this either.

Gustav had to be sure. Sometimes half way through the boys claimed they hadn’t said yes and it got messy deciding whether to try to stop or just to overpower them and hope they’ll be good with it after he’d done it.

“I’m going to fuck you, right? Up the ass chute,” Gustav murmured as they came out of the kiss. “You are going to let me fuck you, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Benjamin responded.

“Up the ass. I’m going to be very good to you.”

“Yes, oh yes.”

Gustav stripped Benjamin of his T-shirt and himself of his trousers and briefs as he sank down onto a chair and brought Benjamin down into his lap, facing him. Benjamin whimpered and moaned but he submitted totally. They kissed as Gustav frotted their cocks together and stroked them. Benjamin came almost immediately. He’d been here before with Daveed, although not naked as he was now and as Gustav almost completely was. Gustav pulled off his shirt and undershirt then, revealing his hirsute muscular chest—reddish-blond curls—and groaned as Benjamin licked his nipples and made swirl patterns in the chest hair with his tongue. Daveed had liked this. So, obviously, did Gustav.

Letting out a primeval sound, Gustav rose from the chair, taking Benjamin with him, and carried the boy over to the bed, bending him over the foot of the bed on his belly.

“Spread your legs,” he commanded. “This will hurt, but you want it and it will get better, so much better. I’ll be as gentle as I can be.”

“Yes, yes, fuck me!” Benjamin cried out. “I’ve wanted it so long.”

And then Gustav fucked him. He crouched over the boy’s back, taking Benjamin’s wrists in his fists and forcing the boy’s arms over his head. “Leave them there,” he growled, and Benjamin did so. Benjamin did everything commanded of him. He let the muscular man have everything he wanted. Gustav’s kit bag was within reach on the bed, and he opened it and extracted a bottle of lube and a couple of condom packets. He took a look at the condoms.

“You’ve never been fucked before, right? I mean really fucked. In the ass with a man’s cock.”

“No, I haven’t. Just do it. I want it so bad.”

“The truth. You’ve never been fucked before.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Then I’m going to bareback you. The greatest of feelings. You should have a raw ride at least once.”

“Yes. Do it. Doitdoitdoit.”

Gustav did it. He lubed up the boy’s hole and his dick and positioned the bulb at the hole. The effort it took to get inside the boy and Benjamin’s cries and sobs through the muffling of the hand Gustav had over the lad’s mouth as he arched the boy’s shoulder blades back into his chest and dug and dug and dug with his cock, assured Gustav that this, indeed, was the boy’s first time. Benjamin’s demonstrated resolve to submit to it also assured Gustav that the boy wanted it.

The initial deflowering took an eternity. Gustav took his time, savoring every moment of initiating a luscious young virgin. After he was fully saddled, he held, waiting for Benjamin to adjust to him. That didn’t take as long as he had anticipated. But then, Benjamin had been playing with his father’s and Daveed’s dildo. When the fit was tight, but had some give to it, Gustav began to pump and then, as Benjamin opened more and sobbed less, to pump faster. And then faster yet.

Benjamin came almost immediately. But then he hung in there, continuing to beg for more even as he was shuddering and sobbing from the stretch and friction of the cock inside him. Gustav wasn’t as long and thick as Jonathan’s dildo was, but fucking yourself with a dildo was nothing like getting it from the real thing.

“Shit, you’re tight,” Gustav murmured when he had been all in and had started a slow rhythm of the pump. “But you open right up. Sweet. What a sweet lay.”

Fifteen minutes later, Gustav had ejaculated, Benjamin no longer was a virgin to the ass fuck, to being bred, and the older man had dragged the boy up onto the bed and was kissing him all over and thanking him for giving himself for the first time. The boy didn’t mark the smashing of his anal virginity as a loss, though. It was a release. He had been ready for it for so long, despite his young ag.

“I hope I didn’t hurt you too much. I lost control there at the end. I’m sorry.”

“There at the end. That’s what I wanted, what I want,” Benjamin murmured.

After several minutes of cuddle, kissing, and fondling, Gustav was on the rise again. “Are you going to let me fuck you again?” he asked. “You’ll have more pleasure the next time. And even more the next time after that. You’ve done it now. You’ll want to keep doing it.”

“Oh, yes. Do it. Fuck me again.”

Gustav rolled over on top of Benjamin, pushing a pillow under the small of the boy’s back, while Benjamin instinctively spread and bent his legs and placed his feet flat on the surface of the mattress. Gustav pressed his knees under Benjamin’s buttocks, raising the boy’s pelvis even more to give his cock a straight angle, and Benjamin cried out and clawed at the older, muscular man’s shoulders as the cock slid inside him. It wasn’t an easy slide, but it was so much easier than the first time. Benjamin, already learning to control the muscles of his channel walls, was opening to the penetration, willing his gates to open, his walls to spread.

“Oh, shit. Oh, fuck,” the boy groaned.

As the rhythm of the fuck began, each of them, the older man and the fourteen-year-old boy were tuned into the sound of the revving of the jet engines on the runway outside. Gustav was melding his thrusts to the rhythm of life on the airport runway and Benjamin was learning to use the leverage of his feet on the mattress to thrust up with his pelvis to meet penetrating thrusts of the cock.

Benjamin was finding out for the first time what the missionary position was all about. He knew that it provided for the mingling of his curly black pubic hair with Gustav’s sandy silk as the older man’s lower belly smashed Benjamin’s throbbing cock into his groin, with Gustav striving to drive as deeply inside the boy’s guts as he could. They both cried out as Gustav creamed Benjamin deep with gushes of cum. The man wasn’t the thickest or longest of men, which was good for Benjamin’s first, but he was virile and vigorous.

Benjamin already was the perfect submissive, lying there completely open and vulnerable, taking whatever he was given, moved eventually to meld with the other man in the rhythm and waves of the fuck. Taking, taking, taking.

Gustav’s remarks after the second fuck were encouraging to Benjamin. “Shit, you are a natural lay,” he’d exclaimed. “So sweet, so submissive to it. Love being able to bareback you. So young and small. So smooth and supple and flexible. And so soft and yielding to the core. Both spongy and clingy at the center. I could fuck you forever. Fucking a fresh, ripe fourteen-year-old rocks.”

Exhausted after this round of the fuck, both man and boy fell into a deep sleep. Benjamin woke first. He slipped out of the bed, pulled on his clothes, returned to his room, and went straight for the shower. Coming out of the shower, he noticed the roundtrip train tickets into the center of Rome that had been in his benefits package.

He already was here. It wasn’t even noon yet. He’d never been to Rome before. He was a man now. Gustav had made him into a man. He could go into Rome, look around, and return on his own. He could make his own decisions. It would be an adventure. He was sore “down there,” but he’d walk that off and see the sights of Rome as well. The Coliseum. The Forum. The Vatican.

He slipped on a clean T-shirt, shorts, and tennis shoes and found the platform over in the terminal for the train into the heart of Rome.

Thinking back on the afternoon—and even before that to Daveed—while he was riding the train, he forced himself to think whether he was sorry he’d done what he had with a man.

Fuck no. He was in heaven and looking for the next opportunity to go even farther.

Coming out of the Rome train station, map in hand that he’d picked up from the tourist information booth inside the station, Benjamin immediately was lost. Which way to the Coliseum? And how far away was it? How did this map show distances that Benjamin could understand?

He couldn’t find the train station on the map, although the Coliseum was well marked. He had been spit out of the station facing a park to the right in front of him and a parking and bus transfer lot to the left of him. He went to the corner of the bus lot and checked the street signs. The Via Solferino was in front of him, the Via Giovanni Giolitti to his left. He was trying to find that intersection on the map when he heard the question, spoken in a rich, cultured baritone, the English clear, but the Italian accent obvious.

“May I help you? Do you need directions?” The man was tall and slim and elegantly dressed—and extremely handsome. If Benjamin had been told to describe a well-heeled Italian aristocrat, this would be the man. His auburn hair hadn’t gone fully gray, but the temples had, which added to the “distinguished” look. He had patrician bearing; a tanned, handsome face; dark, expressive eyes; and a “I can help you get where you want” friendly smile. He also had an “I stopped because you are a gorgeous, vulnerable-looking boy and that interests me” smile.

How, Benjamin wondered, gauging the man’s real interest instinctively, could men so quickly figure him out? Daveed had known immediately that Benjamin would fall under his spell. So had Gustav, from the plane. For that matter, how had Benjamin so quickly figured the man out? But he had. The man had approached Benjamin with interest in him that went beyond helping him with directions. Benjamin was sure he didn’t stop to help every confused-looking tourist in Rome. He was a man who liked to help boys. Benjamin could live with that.

“Yes, please. Perhaps you can help me find which direction the Coliseum and Forum are in. Are they far from here?”

“Not far. But too far to walk. Are your parents nearby? I could direct them there.”

“No, I’m here alone,” Benjamin said. “I am traveling alone from Israel to England by plane and had an unexpected stopover in Rome. I thought I should see something of the city. My hotel is out at the airport.”

“All alone? You look so young.”

“I’m fourteen,” Benjamin said, as if this made him an adult. After the sex he’d just had with Gustav he felt very adult indeed.

The older man didn’t have quite the same perspective, though, and sucked in air, a flash of pleasure and want going through his body. “Sweet. Seeing Rome all alone. I could guide you to the Coliseum and the Forum—perhaps show you more than you could see on your own of our wonderful Roma.”

“Thank you. Thank you for stopping to help me, but I don’t want to step on your day. If you could just point me in the direction—”

“It would be no intrusion at all. It would be my pleasure to guide you. And you would need transport. I can take you in a hire car.”

“If it would not be too much trouble.” Benjamin wasn’t anxious to part ways from this handsome, elegant Roman. He no doubt could show Benjamin a whole lot of interesting things. No doubt. And he seemed as interested in Benjamin as Benjamin was in him. “My name is Benjamin,” the boy said.

“I am Guido. Count Guido di Luka in the long form, but certainly just Guido to you.”

Holy shit, Benjamin thought. An Italian count. Earlier today a TV producer and now royalty. This was becoming quite a trip.

Quite a trip indeed.

“Is it really true that you are in Rome alone without your parents or other guardian, Benjamin?”

“Yes, for two days. Then it’s back on the plane and on to London.”

Guido smiled. “You must be thirsty after the train ride in from the airport. We can go to a nearby café first and plot our afternoon. I live nearby. Perhaps after we have seen some of the sights, you would like to come back to my apartment with me and see how Romans live.” And love, he wanted to say, but didn’t. He watched Benjamin carefully to see how this signaling would be taken.

“That would be great,” Benjamin answered, eyes all innocent. That didn’t mean he hadn’t caught the tentative signal.

Eureka. The boy would be so easy. He was a luscious little piece—probably Jewish. His reactions to the signals through looks Guido was giving him were very encouraging. Guido wondered whether the boy even understood how badly he wanted it.

But Benjamin did understand.

The count sat close to Benjamin at the street café, his knee pushed in between Benjamin’s knees, feigning the lack of legroom under the table, but not fooling either one of them, as they discussed their itinerary. Benjamin squeezed Guido’s knee between his to signal that they were going down the same path. Guido sipped tea. Benjamin, who hadn’t eaten since the snack on the plane, wolfed down a sandwich and a cream-filled pastry. The count paid for it all. Benjamin knew he would.

“Do we have time for all of that, to go to all of those places before we go to your apartment?” Benjamin asked. In the back of his mind he already was building in the possibility of private intimate time. The knee between Benjamin’s knees and the touch of the count’s sensual, gloved hands on the boy’s forearm from time to time, along with the overall sexiness of him, were making Benjamin hard. The count was hard too.

“We will make time,” Guido said. “And my apartment is in the Via Modena, very close to everything. It will be a natural place for us to light after the sightseeing for some pleasurable refreshment. Do you like classical music, Benjamin? I’m somewhat of a connoisseur of ‘the right mood’ classical music.”

“I guess,” Benjamin answered, somewhat skeptical. “I haven’t really given it much thought.”

“I think you’ll enjoy it. There is good classical music to do everything and anything to that you enjoyed doing. But, before we do all of this this afternoon, when we go to my apartment, are you going to give yourself to me, Benjamin? I like to have expectations settled before I make a significant investment.”

“Give myself to you?”

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