Chapter 62 Tommy: The Easter vacation
Padua university finished teaching two weeks before Easter. Rather than return home so early, we had arranged for Martin to come to Padova. The bed in my room was big enough to accommodate two of us. Leo had gone home for Easter, but Matteo was remaining in Padova to do one or two week's reading before going to his home near Rome. The three of us used to eat together in the evenings, and of course Martin insisted in going to the opera as often as possible. Matteo and Martin got on like a house on fire and were soon good friends, which was a great relief to me. Consequently, it was only a matter of days before we found ourselves discussing a threesome. Both Martin and I were a bit reluctant at first, but after Matteo said that he was quite happy with oral, and that indeed he was not keen on rear entry, we all decided to give it a go.
We went out for a meal at the local taverna and had a bottle of wine among the three of us, just to relax us, and returned to the apartment, nicely full of food and made extremely randy by the alcohol. We undressed and watched a gay video on the television set in the social room. I was in the middle with one arm round Martin and Matteo, encircling their bodies and holding each of their cocks. Appropriately, the video featured a gay orgy with a mixture of men of different races doing all the usual things.
Once we were all hard and oozing precome, we switched the video off, and adjourned to my bedroom, where Martin began to roll a condom onto his dick. I lay on my back on the bed, my mouth in close proximity to Matteo's big curly cock, as he knelt at my head on the bed. I spread my legs so that Martin could get easily into my arsehole. He got lube on his fingers and started to apply it to my hole, gently stretching it.
I opened my mouth to let the precome dripping from Matteo's tool fall into my mouth. Martin was busy kissing my belly and playing with the hair round my nipples. I could smell the scent of Storing pour Homme from Martin and of sweat from Matteo. Matteo's balls were just in the right position for a spot of 'tea-bagging', so I started to lick first one, then the other and finally took one into my mouth. He groaned with delight. "È bono, bono," he murmured. Martin grinned. "I taught him how to do that, Matteo!" he said. "I'm about to go in!" he continued and gently began poking his tool into my shithole.
Matteo by now was oozing precome copiously, and I reached his dick and took it into my mouth. It was my first experience of being penetrated at both ends at the same time, and it was delicious. The sense of satisfaction was redoubled by the thought that I was pleasuring two men of whom I was very fond, both at the same time. They both were obviously enjoying something that neither had done before. It was a situation over which I had no control, so I just lay back and let myself be fucked. However, I did a bit of work on Matteo's prick, which was satisfyingly fat as well as curved, and inevitably he was the first to come.
Martin was hammering away at my prostate as if he had never fucked me before, and soon he too shot his load. As he did so, in his orgasm he let a huge fart escape from his rear end. Matteo grunted in delight. "Scorregiare mi piace!" (I like farting) he said.
I wished that I had known that before, because although Matteo and I were not shy at farting in each other's company, I had not realized how much he must have enjoyed it when he heard me backfire! As Martin also enjoyed farting, we realized that we had no need to struggle to restrain our flatulence.
We wound up the evening by Matteo sucking Martin off, after which, weary from wine and sexual exercise, we all three fell asleep in my bed. It was a bit crowded, but we were too sleepy to care. Our awakening the next morning was accompanied by a veritable anal chorus as first Martin, then Matteo, then myself relieved ourselves of overnight flatulence!
Chapter 63 Tommy: The Belgian beer festival
One day in March, I received an unexpected phone call from Dad. "Tommy," he said, "can you spare a weekend off at the end of April? Easter will be over, and you will be back in Padova. Jon and I are going to the Zythos Bierfestival in Leuven, which is the home of Belgium's oldest university. It's just the sort of thing that would suit students like you and Martin. Martin will square things with his bedder and take the time off. He would find it difficult to get official permission, but if he's gone for only three nights, no-one will make a fuss. It's not as if he regularly goes AWOL, and he is keen to go. There are hundreds of beers available to taste, and the ambience in Leuven, which is full of students, is very nice. If we can't get an hotel in Leuven, we can stay in Mechelen or Antwerp and go on the train to Leuven. What do you think? You would have time to spend in bed with Martin!"
"Of course, Dad!" I replied. "No-one will miss me if I'm I'm only gone for three nights. But one thing. Can I bring a friend? My housemate Matteo is a beer lover. If he can spare the time and can afford it, I would like to bring him along. I'll book flights from Marco-Polo-Venezia to Maastricht tomorrow. It's easy to get from there to Leuven. We should be able to get back here for a lecture on the Monday afternoon. I'll ring you back to confirm that Matteo is coming with me." Matteo responded enthusiastically to the invitation.
So Easter being over (I had spent it with Martin at Rockwell's Barn), on the last Friday in April, Matteo and I alighted at Maastricht airport, and within an hour were on the train to Antwerp, where my fathers had booked two double hotel rooms and a single. We checked in, and found at reception that the rest of the party had already arrived and were waiting for us in the bar. The public nature of the place meant that I could only shake hands discreetly with my fathers and boyfriend. It was not an occasion in any case for passionate greetings: we had only been separated for little more than a week. We went out for a meal to a typical Flemish pub and enjoyed a typical Flemish dinner, with the accompanying beers carefully chosen for each dish.
That night, my stud-boy and I went to bed early. My fathers completely understood without being told that Martin and I needed each other. Poor old Matteo was left with my parents.
Next day we were on the train to Leuven in good time for the opening of the festival in the Brabantshalle. The hall was already crowded with beer lovers from all over Europe. The Zythos festival is quite unlike other beer festivals. The objective is not to drink as much beer as possible, but to taste small samples of 100 ml of each chosen beer, from stalls run by the brewers themselves. We arrived early enough to secure a corner of a table, because seating is aways at a premium at beer festivals.
In the middle of the afternoon, on my way back to our table from the toilet, I heard voices speaking Italian. It was a group of four men, obviously students. It was clear that they really had no idea which beers they should try, even after consultation of the multilingual tasting notes. "Excuse me for interrupting you," I said in Italian, "but I think that you need help with choosing beers. Would you like me to suggest some good ones?" They looked up in surprise, but gratefully accepted the offer. I asked them what styles of beer they liked. They did not seem to know, so I marked in their programmes half a dozen different styles: blonde, dark, acid ale, lambic, stout, pale ale and Trappist, and suggested that they try those first.
I resumed my place at the table with Martin, Matteo and my fathers, and some time afterwards the four Italian boys came and took some newly vacated seats at our table. They were enthusiastic about most of the beers that I had suggested, especially the Trappist style, and Jon showed them how to use the classified index in the tasting notes to identify other similar-style beers. I had not heard him speak Italian for a long time, and I was impressed by how much he remembered from his early lessons before I was adopted. In turn, he was impressed by how much I had learned in my few months in Padua.
In fact, it was not so much the increase in my vocabulary that was spectacular: it was the increase in my self-confidence. Throughout my teens I had been diffident and unforthcoming, due to the humiliations of my childhood by my birth parents, and the overprotection after my adoption by David and Jon. I could see now that I had benefitted enormously from life in college, and that most of my gain in confidence was due to Carol and Martin. I was confident that I could have a close friendship with Matteo without falling in love with him.
Round about 4 pm, the whole group of us (including the Italian students) decided that we had consumed enough beer and that we would return to the town centre in search of an interesting pub where we might eat and find more beer.
An hour later the party found an interesting home-brew pub in the centre of Leuven. We had a couple of drinks and soon after 6 pm were enjoying a meal. The Italians had some difficulty in deciding what to eat. North European cuisine seemed a bit unusual to them. After the meal, the four Italians left us to go on a pub-crawl, we returned to the station and caught a train back to Antwerp.
Chapter 64 Tommy: Humiliation in Antwerp
