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USUAL DISCLAIMER "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 1 - THE PASTOR"S SON
Being part the Evangelical Pentecostal Church in a country like Italy, that is overwhelmingly Catholic, is not a simple thing. Although in reality they are more Catholic in name than in fact, and despite the policy of ecumenism that the Catholic Church for years seems to pursue.
The evangelical community, precisely because it is a small minority, is therefore very tight around its church, and also very practicing and faithful to its beliefs, however, much more than an ordinary Catholic parish. This involves a kind of mutual ?control? with respect to orthodoxy, both among the faithful of the church, than from the pastor on his flock.
In this context, being the son of the pastor becomes a burdensome condition. The family"s pastor, in fact, must be the first to set a good example to the congregation, must be irreproachable. It has all eyes fixed on it, and saying ?all?, as it may seem strange, it does not just means the members of the congregation, but also those of the Catholics... The latter, in fact, if a scandal shook the family of a pastor, would be very keen to comment with a critical and unchristian attitude.
So Gabriele Bettazzi, the third of four children of Pastor Bettazzi of the congregation of Christ the Redeemer in Milan, since a baby had had a life not really bad, but not even pleasant. The father and mother had raised their children with a certain rigor, following them and directing them even in the smallest things, constantly reminding them that they had to be an example to others.
Like all teenagers, Gabriele at one point had felt growing within him a sense of rebellion against the infinite rules of behaviour that the parents required him. He had not the strength to oppose openly so he tried in every possible way to carve out little personal and secret spaces, within which he can ?breathe.?
In 1994 Gabriele was turning fourteen. He had reached puberty by less than a year and this, logically, had increased his problems. He knew exactly, thanks to the teachings of his father, that sexuality is a dangerous component of man, to keep at bay, to which could not be given space in life, except when the time of marriage came.
For Gabriele it was a big problem: the stimuli that he felt grow in himself with the development of his body, were getting stronger and just the idea of having to repress them for at least ten years, sometimes drove him crazy-- how could he really keep them at bay for such a long time, if sometimes he could not resist not even for a couple of days? Not only that: the more he tried not to ?fall into temptation? the more it grew stronger, now roaring, now subtle, now appealing, now strong enough to make him feel bad.
It was a hopeless struggle. So Gabriele decided that, also for that problem, he had only one solution: create a small secret space in which he let himself go. But the real problem was that the boy was becoming aware that something strange was happening to him; he felt more and more drawn to his male comrades and not to girls.
He knew well that to give in to sexual stimuli would be a grave sin, but yielding to the sin of Sodom was an abominable sin. But, with growing dismay, he realized that he was just going to. It seemed that everything conspired against his good intentions: advertising in magazines showing more and more half-naked bodies of beautiful young men, TV programs, movies, even reproductions of works of art on his school books...
In the most diverse and unexpected moments, all those pictures seemed to look at him, invite, lure him, seemed to smile mischievously and whisper to him: "You like me, right? We a beautiful, aren"t we? You"d like to touch me, undress me and get naked; you too, want to embrace me, hug, caress, and kiss me... You"d love to do it with me, right? "
Gabriele hoped to reduce the increasing pressure, the more and more virulent feelings, the growing and aggressive temptation, giving himself relief by himself... But just as he did so, the images presented themselves to his imagination more vivid than ever, more attractive than ever. Soon after he repented, he felt ashamed... but only for a few hours and everything started again.
Not only that, but even his mates, or at least the most beautiful, the most developed among them, were appearing more and more desirable, more attractive. Looking at them; not only half-naked in the locker room or naked in the showers, after training in the gym, but also fully dressed, sitting on the benches in the classroom, caused him increasingly strong erections. And even their faces, their bodies, or the slight bulge in their trousers, peered into his fantasies, even while he was quietly falling asleep in his bed.
One Sunday morning, leaving the temple after the function held by his father, Martino, his companion in the church choir, his contemporary and friend, asked him if he wanted to go to have lunch at his home, so after they could play with his new video game ?The secret of the Ninja - 2.? The father of Martino, one of the elders of the congregation, asked permission of the pastor who complied without problems. So Gabriele went to lunch at his friend"s house.
After lunch, Martino went into his room with his friend Gabriele. He had turned on the PC, put on the CD, and the images of the introduction of the game had begun to appear on-screen. While Martino was explaining the basics and was scrolling down the characters to choose them, Gabriele looked at the pictures: they were all young men, tall, muscular, designed perfectly. The boy felt that particular stimulus awaken in him...
"They are well designed, don"t you think?" said Martino.
"You bet! Better than in number one, much better; they seem almost like photographs!" said Gabriele.
"Yes, and they move even better. Here, you get this joystick and I use that one. You choose -- do you want the purple team, the green, or the black one?"
"All against all, you said?"
"Yes, the team that remains is played by the computer. Which one do you want?"
"The green." Gabriele said, thinking that the ??boss?? was a big hunk, "And which do you choose?"
"I am the black one. Come on, let"s begin."
They konyaaltı kendi evi olan escort began to play. Unlike game one, in addition to rotating blades, the fireballs, the two swords, and other weapons, in this game there was also the possibility of grappling, kicking, punching, and some special holds. They played. Martino won the first match, as he already knew the game, but Gabriele won the second. During the third match, at one point, Martino"s character had a hold on that of Gabriele, the two characters fell to the ground; the green one was on all fours and the black on top of him, trying to immobilize him.
Martino chuckled. Gabriele glanced at him and asked: "Why are you laughing? What is it? Do you know a secret move?"
"No..." the friend replied, "It is that? do you not see that it seems that the black wants to fuck the green one?"
Gabriele chuckled in turn, a little embarrassed, but thinking that it was true. "Maybe if we move the joysticks in the right way, we can really make them do it!" he said throwing another glance to his friend.
"Well... not really, but if you let me also use your joystick, I can show you something that resembles it."
Gabriele, without saying anything, pushed his joystick towards Martino. The friend, operating them both, moved back and forth the black ninja on top of the green and it really seemed that he was fucking. The two boys chuckled.
"Come on, let me try too!" said Gabriel.
"Careful, do not let go of the buttons or one of the two rises up again... here... Now move only mine right and left, but slowly."
Gabriele tried it, and when he felt confident about the commands, accelerated the movement of the black and made wave the green a little also. The two boys giggled again.
"It seems that yours likes it!" Martino noted.
"Also to the one above, look." said Gabriel moving the levers so that the black ninja moved with greater energy.
"Too bad we can not also undress them." Martino whispered.
Gabriele realized he was getting a strong erection. With the tail of his eye, he looked between the legs of his friend, who was sitting beside him shoulder to shoulder, and noticed that his friend also had an erection visible under his tight jeans.
"It seems that your joystick... has awakened," he said, and quickly moved his right hand from the plastic joystick to the flap of his friend, feeling it.
Martino had a quick jolt but didn"t escape and instead giggled again: "Yes, you"re right. And yours?" he asked, and in turn put his hand between the legs of Gabriele. "Yours too is hard." he whispered.
The game, left to itself, was taking place on the computer monitor without any of the two boys following it any more - a purple ninja was slaughtering, without encountering any opposition, both the black opponent and the green. The two friends were fingering each other in an explicit way now, looking between the legs of each other.
"You beat it?" Martino asked him softly.
"I do, sometimes... and you?"
"Even two or three times a day. You"ve never done it with another?"
"No, never."
"Do you want to do it with me?" Martino asked, sliding down the zipper of the trousers of his friend.
"It is dangerous... if comes one of your family..." Gabriele said, feeling he blushed but doing nothing to stop the friend, indeed, fingering with great pleasure the swelling that he felt under the clothes of Martin.
"Come with me, then." said the other, who had slipped a hand into the fly of Gabriele and was caressing his hard member through the tight slip.
Gabriele was feeling a great pleasure from the warmth of his friend"s hand. With a low and a bit choked voice and with emotion, asked: "Where?"
Martino stood up. Gabriele stood up in turn and closed his fly. For the first time the two boys looked at each other: Martino had a smirk, Gabriele felt himself blushing but smiled at him and again asked, "Where?"
"In the cellar."
"But your parents, what will they say?"
"Let"s say you want to see my old electric train. They will say nothing. Come."
The two boys took the elevator, went down to the ground floor, Martino opened the basement door, turned on the light, went down the stairs, then opened the metal door of the family cellar. Inside was the usual pile of old things. Martino took a couple of boxes and put them one on top of the other, against the door, blocking it. He opened the upper box containing parts of the electric train.
"That"s it. And now..." said, and immediately put his hand on the fly of Gabriele: "You still have a hard-on..."
The two boys opened their trousers and pulled their genitals out of their underwear. Facing one another, they began to mutually masturbate. Gabriele liked incredibly to feel his friend"s hand on his bare member, and to get hold of Martino"s warm and hard cock. They beat each other for a while. Gabriele could feel an intense heat. Every time they looked into their eyes they giggled.
Then Martino crouched in front of him, took his friend"s member in his hands, approached the face and began to lick it.
"What are you doing!" Gabriele asked, surprised, but feeling an even more intense pleasure.
Martino did not answer, but took between his lips the member and made it slip it in his mouth, slowly sucking and moving it against his tongue.
"Ooohhh..." muttered Gabriele beginning to tremble at the intensity of pleasure, "Who taught you this?"
Martino did not answer, but with a hand began to gently knead the balls of his friend and with the other to stroke his crotch and belly.
"Ooohhh..." moaned again the friend, leaning against the shelf behind him and instinctively pushing the pelvis forward to drive it more deeply into the moist and warm mouth of his friend.
After a while Martino stood up. Looking with a satisfied smile at his friend asked: "Did you like it?"
"Heck, yes. Why did you stop?"
"Now you do it a bit to me."
"I do not know... I never did..." the boy said uncertainly, wondering if he would not be disgusted by the taste of urine that he thought he would feel.
"Come on, now it"s up to you." Martino insisted putting the hands on his friend"s shoulders and pushing him down.
"I do not know if I like..." Gabriele protested, but crouched in front of his mate.
He took in his hands the turgid genitals of the other, approached the face and smelled: it was not at all a smell of piss, but just a hint of bubble bath. Timidly stuck out his tongue and licked it: the taste was not at all disgusting. Then, taking courage, took it in his lips and pushed his head forward letting it slip into his mouth.
A bit surprised, he felt that konyaaltı otele gelen escort it was pleasant! It was warm, firm yet velvety, and did not taste bad at all! He began to suck and to move on it his tongue as Martino had done to him shortly before. The friend gently took his head in his hands and started moving his pelvis back and forth, pumping it into his mouth. Gabriele, imitating what his friend had done to him, began to knead the testicles of Martino and caress his thighs, hips and stomach. He liked to do it!
They alternated for a while until Martino, without warning, began to squirt in his throat jets of warm semen. Gabriele took off in a hurry, but not quick enough, while his friend continued to unload against his face. He felt the taste was strange, but nothing bad. So he took it back in his mouth and sucked the last drops.
When the friend was not able to give him even one more drop, Gabriele took his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face. Then, looking at the friend with a smile, said: "But now you drink all of mine!"
Martino smiled and crouched in front of him. He began to suck again, and shortly after, he drank the semen of Gabriele, without letting escape even a drop. When he stood up, wiped his lips with the back of his hand and smiled, pleased, to his friend.
"You have a good taste, Gabriele. I liked it." He said in a light voice.
"Me too... it is not bad at all." the friend replied, blushing a little.
So the two boys began to meet more often and after a few times that they did it, once they were alone in the apartment, Martino convinced him to also try to take it from behind -- he had a special lotion to ease it. Gabriele liked also that new variant very much, both when Martino took him, and when it was he that put it into Martin.
When they were sure no one could hear them, they also talked about it. Martino said he knew for a year of being gay, and that he did it also with other guys, and one day showed him a gay magazine with many colour photos of guys fucking each other.
"Where did you find it?" Gabriele asked, intrigued and excited.
"My chief scout gave me it."
"Come on! Is too he gay?"
"Yes. My first time was right with him, at the summer camp. He was nineteen years old and I thirteen. And in our troupe there are two others like us. Sometimes we have fun also all four together."
"Heck, of course I would like to."
"Come in the scouts, then."
"My father does not want me to, unfortunately. But I"d like to have one of these magazines. Where are they sold?" asked Gabriele.
"They do not sell them to people under eighteen."
"But if I give you the money, can you not ask your leader to buy one and give it to you?" asked Gabriel.
"Maybe he will give me another one."
"And you, then, will give it to me?"
"I give you this one if he gives me another, all right?"
"You bet!"
Thus, in addition to continuing from time to time to do it with Martino, Gabriele finally one day could bring home the gay magazine that his friend had given him. He took it home hidden under his clothes, tucked in his pants and under his T-shirt. Arrived in his room, he had hidden it on the top shelf of the bookcase, behind the series of novels for children that his parents had bought him when he was younger.
Sometimes in the evening he took it out when he knew that at home everybody slept, leafing through it staying under the covers, illuminating it with the flashlight, and masturbated looking at the pretty pictures. He was always careful to cum in a Kleenex he had prepared. Then he hid it again, put the wet Kleenex in a plastic bag and stuck it in the school bag. The next morning, en route between home and school, he threw the bag in a trashcan.
But one day, as he came home from school, he immediately felt that there was an air of storm brewing. He immediately knew the reason - the mother, having decided to thoroughly clean the rooms of the children, had entered that of Gabriele and the first thing she had removed all books from the library, to dust it and pass the product for furniture polish. She had thus found the magazine.
His father had a tantrum, accused him of the worst things, and wanted to know who had given him the magazine.
"A man... I do not know who he is." said Gabriele, who did not wish his father might suspect Martino.
All hell broke loose: "What? And you do these filthy things with men you do not even know?" etc. etc.
Gabriele, who was now sixteen, had then told his father of being gay, that he could not do anything, he tried to resist to no avail, as that was his nature. He had tried to reason with his father, but in response he took a volley of violent slaps in his face and was segregated in his room for a few days.
Then his father told him he had decided to enrol him in boarding school, a Swiss boarding school run by the evangelical community in the German-speaking Switzerland. He also told him he had warned the dean about the ?problem? of Gabriele, so that they would keep an eye on him, and rather, they would ?cure? him by injections of male hormones, because obviously the problem had to be that. In fact, he was a too delicate kid, perhaps even a bit effeminate.
Gabriele, at the home of Martino, had read some publications that explained clearly how being gay is not a disease, much less treatable, and at the idea felt lost. And he knew not to be any more delicate or ?effeminate? than the majority of his mates. He understood, however, that it was useless to oppose, to try to reason with his father, so he quickly adopted a course of action.
"Thanks, Dad. I"m sorry I gave you this pain. I hope that they can heal me in that boarding school." he said lowering his head, both to show his father how much he regretted, and to hide the look of defiance that he was afraid to have in his eyes, as he felt that inside him, overwhelmingly.
So, a few days later, his father made him prepare the suitcase and with a taxi they went to Milan Central Station where they would take the train to Switzerland. While his father was busy buying the train tickets, Gabriele, leaving the suitcase on the floor behind his father"s legs so that he could not easily turn around to chase him, ran away with all the speed he had.
He managed to climb up the tracks, jumped the barrier and walked briskly to the track in which he knew to be a train leaving for Rome. He slipped into a carriage and peered out, hoping that his father had not seen him go there. Finally the train pulled away. Gabriele "s heart was beating wildly, but at least for the moment, he felt safe. He hoped to go far enough, and to survive until he reached konyaaltı rus escort eighteen years of age, becoming at last free and safe.
When the train was entering the station of Bologna, he saw the controller and, behind him, two men of the railway police asking also for documents of the travellers. He thought that maybe his father had reported to the police his escape. He moved toward the front of the train, his heart in his throat. The train entered the station. It had not yet stopped that Gabriele catapulted himself off, trying not to break into a run and assume a quiet stance, without walking neither too fast nor too slow, towards the exit.
When he was in the station square, he turned to look: it seemed that nobody cared about him. He turned away and walked briskly along the street following the signs indicating the centre of town. He still felt terribly agitated. He could not call Martino to warn him, but because he had not mentioned his name and had denied that he had done it with his friends - he hoped that at least he did not have problems.
He could not take anything away -- he preferred to leave the suitcase in order to run faster, and could not take his savings, as his father seized him. So he had with him not even a penny. The only thing he had with him were his documents, but it was better that no one saw them.
If the father had given his description to the police, as well as a picture, he had surely also described his clothing. How could change his appearance, with no money? And how was he going to eat? He could not try to ask for alms, as he risked being seen by police and arrested, interrogated, acknowledged.
On the other hand did not want to end up in that college-prison and let alone be subjected to those ridiculous medical ?cares?! What to do? He wondered as he continued to walk towards the centre. Try to catch another train to move away more from Milan? Or stay here in Bologna? After all, if the police were looking for him, one city was worth another.
He arrived in the city centre. He glanced distractedly at the Palace of King Enzo, barely glanced at the two leaning towers, walked around San Petronio cathedral, still wondering what he could do. He came back and stood next to the fountain of the Neptune. With a slight sense of humour, he thought that it was a great bloke! And he also thought that it gave him welcome in Bologna.
Yes, he thought, after all he was not bad, he was a nice boy. Maybe he could find a ?Neptune? that would like to fuck him, and perhaps at least give him something to eat. But even for this, how could he do it? He could not stop a man to ask him if he wanted to take him to bed, right?
Then he remembered when Martino had told him of the existence of hustlers. The friend said that they were there in Milan, and even where they were going to lure customers. But he didn"t know if there were and where they could be in Bologna, and especially how to recognize a customer or to make understood to a customer that he would also be willing to do tricks.
And who knows why the guys who offered themselves to men paying for sex were called hustlers? Not that it mattered at that moment... And then a hustler, how much money had they to ask for a shag? Really he did not know anything! On the other hand, it is not that he could have thought of it before, gather information. His father had even confiscated his computer, when he had shut him in his room. His mother brought him food to eat in the room, and when he had to go to the toilet was always escorted by his father or the mother or his older brother.
Yes, good that one! When he heard what had happened, his brother told him: "You disgust me, Gabriele!"
Disgust. Sure, his brother Michele was perfect, just like Dad wanted! Michele had never had his own opinion, was the shadow of his father, for him what his father said was more sacrosanct than the Bible. Disgust. "Do not look at the speck in the eye of the other, Michele, when you have a beam in yours!" the boy said softly. Then, with a bitter smile, said: "Do not look at the beam in my eye, Michele, when you have a Boeing in yours!"
Gabriele went back next to the two leaning towers. He looked up and down and wondered: "Why do they not straighten them? I bet my father, if he could, would try."
He then turned onto a street and saw that it was called ?Via Santo Stefano?. Was not called Stefano the chief scout, who was fucking with Martino? It seemed so to him. Who knows how it could be to fuck with Stefano? Martino had told him that he was skilled. Gabriele had done it only with his friend, but he would like to do it with an older one, with a man.
"Stefano does not have a big cock, but knows how to use it well." Martino had told him.
Martino knew how to use it well, as far as he knew. He liked to do it with Martino. Yes, both take it in his sweet ass, and get to fuck his friend"s ass. Perhaps a little more being fucked by Martin than to fuck him. And he liked when they sucked simultaneously. Make a 69, it was said. The numbers described well two that sucked each other. He wondered if there were other numbers so graphic. "31" could seem like an ass with a cock ready to slide inside. Even if the one would be better if written horizontally. "3 -" but so it made you think more of a dick with two balls...
Immersed in these thoughts, Gabriele realized that had got an erection. He glanced toward his fly and saw that it was a little swollen. Those who would look there could be aware he had a hard-on. "Who cares!" he said softly. In fact, maybe someone would try to make him a proposal if he realized his state... and if he liked boys. Gabriele reached the Gate Santo Stefano and saw, on the right, the boundaries of a large park. Martino had told him that the hustlers often lure customers in the parks... who knows? He went in it looking around. Small families, children playing, people walking the dog, couples more or less embraced... How the hell do you figure out who is a hustler and who goes in search of hustlers? The boy asked himself. He began to feel hungry. He went to a drinking fountain and drank a long while, hoping that the water might subside a little the sense of hunger. What the hell could he do to eat something? He saw a child who nibbled a snack Ferrero. For a moment he thought to steal it and run away. Then he thought he could not do it, because he did not want the child to cry, and because maybe that was the way to get hold of, and beaten, if not seized by the police. The water had not done much to alleviate his hunger. He went to sit on a bench, hands in his pockets, wondering what to do?


CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 2

Please, donate to keep alive Nidty site, that allows you to read these pages, Thank you - Andrej

In my home page I"ve put some more of my stories. If someone wants to read them, the URL is
http://andrejkoymasky
If you want to send me feed-back, or desire to help me revising my translation into English of another of my stories, send me an e-mail sky (I can read only English, French, Italian... Andrej)
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