We had agreed to meet not far from the Ponte Victoria where I was staying in Florence. He was an American professor who was teaching in the town and we had connected through a sexual website for men. I was staying closer to the meeting point and arrived before he did. It was not long after the scheduled time that I saw the man who was my adventure in Florence.
He had not alerted me that he would be using a cane and limping but I suspected that that was the reason for his slight tardiness. I might not have alerted him either if it would have reduced the likelihood of our meeting. He was slightly older than the age listed on his profile but I was guilty of the same dishonesty and to a similar degree. His smile was genuine when he noted me in the black and red leather jacket that I had told him I would be wearing. “Ciao, ciao” he greeted in his midwestern Italian. I was also initially from the Midwest US and so guilty of the same American Italian although his was much better than mine. It was the smile and the glint in his eyes that identified his American generosity of spirit.
“Do you mind walking with me to the place I must go today?” he queried. It struck me that his English had an Italian sentence structure. He must have been in Italy for some time. I had no plans and enjoyed meeting new people to learn their stories, so I accepted his invitation for a stroll together. He might also know parts of Florence which I did not. “I have some documents that I must present today and then I am free for the afternoon.”
We started across the bridge from the Alte Arno and I wondered if the river had always been this turgid color or if Galileo had seen something quite different. Was the nunnery where his daughter stayed the one I saw up on the hill? Was her experience of the Arno so different from her famous father’s? The river had continued flowing through so many events in history.
Charles spoke of his injury right away and I knew most of the story before we had finished crossing the river. He had fallen a few months ago down a stone stairwell in Florence and severely injured one of his legs. As fortune would have it, he was due to fly back to the states soon after the mishap and he just took a more immediate way to get there. He needed serious surgery on the leg due to multiple fractures. The doctors had declared success but the patient was far from pieced back together all of the way. Edema was an issue in the uninjured leg and lots of pain remained which required the use of the cane.
The psychological damage hadn’t really been addressed and he was very conservatively navigating the uneven pedestrian walks of the old stones of Florence’s pavements. He periodically cursed and snarled, pointing at the offending uneven tiles with the tip of his cane. “Why don’t they fix those?” He might as well have been asking the Gods as the Italian infrastructure crew who knew how to demolish but were always slow at repair. Charles had not the resources at hand to correct the problem and so pointed his cane and used his colorful Italian to tell the tiles what he thought of them. I hoped it made him feel better.
I also noted that he was insecure in crossing the busy streets with no traffic signals and so I navigated the traffic for us using my energy to require motorbikes and cars to stop for these two old men crossing the street in the proper location. I was confident that the drivers of any vehicle would know that they were in for trouble with two old men, one with a cane, if they didn’t provide the proper yield to let us cross without further injury or assault. In the end, Italians were more law abiding than not and respectful of age, even when they’re in a hurry.
He hadn’t really explained where we were going other than that I knew it was in the neighborhood of the stazione. Florence is a maze of short and small streets when you are not in the main tourist areas and he was unclear of the exact twists and turns we needed to take to arrive at our destination. He wasn’t insecure, but unsure and these were important distinctions in behavior.
“Ah!” Charles exhaled as he saw the sign that he had been seeking. This wasn’t his first visit to this office so once he saw familiar signposts he was smiling again and moving along at a brisk and confident pace, even with the cane. Before long we arrived at the destination which I noted was the police station. This made me curious as to his need.
The building was clearly an Italian government structure with security in place and mostly mundane architecture. It was surprising to me that Italians who were so good at all modes of design, managed less well when it was the money of the people being spent. Perhaps it was a holdover of Communist influence.
After we entered the building, Charles approached a customer window and I noted that there was a young handsome policeman who greeted him after an appropriate wait in a short line. There was always waiting in Italy. All of the conversation was in Italian where I was able to catch a few of the words and understood which window in the adjoining room he was to go. He was provided with a numbered ticket, but there was something not quite correct and my companion had to ask at the neighboring window if this was accurate which it was not. Charles had the benefit of one who had dealt with Italian bureaucracy in the past. He knew that his request had to be at one of two numbered windows and the ticket he had been given for waiting was not for one of those windows. The second policeman understood and provided a new ticket that was proper, making us ready for part two.
We moved to the other waiting room which actually had some comfortable seating and I was grateful to be off my feet after walking on stone pavement. Charles showed me his ticket and explained that they had screwed up and given him the wrong ticket for waiting which would have added another dimension of delay. They didn’t apologize for their mistake, but just provided the correct ticket the second time around. He was clearly frustrated but it was pretty good for the Italian government to get it right on the second try. Some Italians would have been amazed that it only required to attempts.
I noted that there were about six numbers ahead of him and I could see the electronic sign better than Charles so I kept track of our progress. In the meantime, my friend explained the details of his need to get a new type of visa to continue his stay in Florence more permanently due to his daughter’s marriage to an Italian. In Italy, it was all about family and once you became part of a family, more opened. As a foreigner, there were many roadblocks and some were impenetrable. But for family, the road opened up and things became possible which had been “tanto impossibile.”
I felt his anxiety even as he girded himself for the upcoming battle with the government worker behind the window. We talked about energy and I helped him adjust his to a more conciliatory place using some Reiki. We waited for about thirty minutes, which at lunch time was really great progress. When his number was called, I observed him walk to the window but he entrusted his cane to me so that he had both hands for talking and explaining the documents he needed to present.
There was a lovely thirtyish female with long dark hair who greeted him in Italian and he had enough command of the language for the conversation to be all in Italian. I learned later that she remembered him from previous visits. When she examined his plasticized paperwork and attached photos, she examined them carefully and declared that he had presented all that was necessary. The new visa would be processed in due time. The earliest would be three months and the latest was never a time that the Italians would divulge. All processes in Italian bureaucracy allowed for the likelihood of unforeseen delay.
I could see that my new friend was in a state of incredulity and he remained at the window until the kind woman once again declared that all was in order and that he could go. It was as though a heavy winter coat had fallen from his broad shoulders and his feet could now move with a new grace and alacrity. He had been granted that which he sought, which was a great surprise to him.
“E miracoli,” Charles declared with a smile as he returned to me and regained his seat because he was almost lightheaded from the news that he had received. And indeed, perhaps a small miracle had taken place in this structured governmental building. While we had been waiting for his turn, I noted that even with the stark appearance of the architecture, the interior designer had made sure that there were some vaulted ceiling spaces and that the lighting was softer as it formed around the curved spaces. Michelangelo would have been commissioned to paint here had he still been around.
Charles was incredulous that he had arrived at a conclusion and that his sisyphean task had been accomplished. Deo gratias! He turned to me and was shaken by the Eastern Reiki which had influenced this implacable Western institution. “How did you do that?” he asked without acknowledging his own contribution to success. “I just adjusted some energy fields. Don’t discount the fact that she recognized you as a supplicant from before and that you had all of your documents perfectly organized. You made all of the correct choices. That’s all.”
“Would you like to see my space in Firenze?” I wanted to head us onto the next phase of our time together. Charles continued to brighten and readily affirmed that he would be delighted to see my space. While still not fully accepting that he had navigated the Italian system, he was happy to put some space between us and the police station.
From here we both knew the way to my residence where I was staying across from Cascini park along the Arno. I had splurged on myself for a two bedroom apartment that would be close to the center but away from tourists. I had been to Florence many times and knew my way around the stimulating city that had been home to so many famous Italians.
It was not long before we were once again crossing the Arno and I was pulling out my big keys for the front door as well as the apartment door. This was an older apartment building with a very heavy wooden door and a giant brass key that would unlock its treasures. I knew that Charles would not be happy to see the single flight of stone stairs to my space, but there were always stairs in Florence.
He “sucked it up” and I could hear his breathing change during the short ascent. My thick wooden apartment door was no smaller than the main building entry and also required a brass key with some heft. The apartment was light and airy with its large door like windows that opened onto the noisy traffic circle below.
I closed the heavy door behind him but didn’t set the brass lock. I offered a beverage which he declined. I showed him around the large space with full kitchen and two bedrooms as well as a pleasant living room. He noted that it was well appointed and collapsed onto the large sofa in the living room which offered respite from his ordeal. His large exhale might have been heard on the circle below us as he finally accepted his own success. “That was amazing! And I thank you for your divine intervention however you made that happen.” Once again, I said that he needed to look no further than his own orderliness, but I knew that I had changed his energy at the police station and that the woman had sensed this new energy and was ready to respond in a way that perhaps she had not before. I was pleased to have assisted him and it might be good for me that he felt indebted.
I sensed correctly, now that he was in a new space which was full of good energy, that he would relax and other things would come to mind. As we chatted on the sofa, Charles gently but purposefully placed his left hand on my right leg. Both of us were wearing long pants since it was not overly warm in Florence for October but I felt him turn towards a sexual experience now that we were behind significant closed doors.
We talked a bit about his family and living in Italy part time as he periodically gave my leg a squeeze. Charles also spoke about some important relationships he had had with men and how they changed his life and career path. They also confirmed his true gay nature and his embrace of who he was. Without warning he shifted himself and pulled me to him so that he could kiss me fully on the mouth with passion and intention. The warmth from his soft lips seeped into me and I both softened and tensed with excitement. He put his right hand on my chest and began to play with my nipple that was eager to receive the attention. He undid a couple of my shirt buttons so that he could stimulate my nipples directly since he could clearly tell that I was enjoying his touch there.
Now that his strong hand was gracing my smooth chest and rubbing my left nipple, I knew it would not be long before I would invite him to the bedroom. I reached down and felt the firmness in his crotch and was pleased to know that I had excited him. “Come to my bed,” I encouraged him and he gave my nipple hard tug and said, “Yes.”
We both removed our clothes in a half orderly fashion and climbed into the large bed with warm covers. It was coolish in the apartment, so we snuggled close together with both of our cocks pressing into one another. We stayed in this sideways frotting position until our bodies warmed up the bed. I moved my lips down his hairy chest and left a trail of small kisses. His dick was thick and hard seeking warmth.
I licked the shaft gently from the tip to the base, lingering at his balls before retracing my path to slip the head of his cock into my wet mouth. I used my tongue to do rings around the tip until I sensed his need for me to take all of him. I took a deep breath and quickly plunged my mouth over the full length of this thick hard cock. I heard his quick intake of breath as I did so and then he let out a moan of satisfaction. That which he had thought about was now happening and his hard cock was fully enveloped in my warm mouth.
I continued to pump my mouth up and down on his stiff dick and each time he expressed his appreciation with exhales and soft moans. One of his hands reached around and began massaging my smooth ass cheeks which caused my back to arch and I moved so that he could reach both cheeks. Each time my mouth reached the base of his hard cock, he gave me a firm squeeze and even a slap or two. Both of us were enjoying the freedom of two men naked in a bed on an Autumn afternoon.
I sensed that he was getting close to an orgasm and I rolled onto my back to give him a chance to delay. He reached over and stroked my hard cock with his firm hand and moved his warm lips to one of my nipples which was happy to have him there. My cock got harder and he began to stroke with more vigor while also taking a mildly painful bite on the nipple. He put my cock into his warm mouth which gave me great pleasure. I arched again and pushed my cock deeper into his throat which made him gag just a little, but it also made his mouth create more saliva to really make my shaft wetter.
I didn’t want to cum yet so I quickly switched positions and once again began pumping his thick hard cock into my warm mouth. I gently rubbed his balls and stroked his legs making his body tense with anticipation. Soon there was a squirt of hot juice into my mouth and then more and more so that I had to swallow to be able to breathe. I took two big gulps of cum and felt him start to relax. Charles gave a huge exhale as though sperm from two years had finally been released into the world. His whole body began to fully collapse into the bed and his big dick lost its stiffness although I still kept it in my mouth.
When I knew that he was finished, I slowly lifted my head from his spent shaft. I wiped my mouth with a hand and fell back on the bed myself, happy to have gotten what I went in for. We lay there for a minute with my cock still aroused which I think he sensed. He reached a hand over and began to slowly stroke me. “Kiss my nipples,” I implored and moved my hand down to stroke my dick. He shifted in the bed so that his warm breath fell onto a nipple and he pressed his tongue down onto the aroused area. He moved his tongue around and pressed his lips into a full kiss. His hand squeezed the other nipple hard and the complex stimulation gave waves of pleasure to my cock. It was not long before I shot cum high into the air and then it came back down onto my chest and his hand. I laughed out loud from the release which caused him to laugh openly as well. We both lay on our backs chickling like children released for recess.
I pulled up the sheets and big comforter so that we would retain the heat that we had generated. “I still don’t know how you did that,” Charles offered and he was not referring to either of our orgasms which he understood perfectly. “I’ve never had that kind of response in Italy” he continued as though he were a professor of science instead of the arts. I simply added, “Welcome to another way. It’s just how Reiki is. It never ceases to amaze me by what can happen.”
We kept our bodies close together under the covers and enjoyed our masculine afternoon off. I knew that he was having anxiety about going down my flight of stairs and I offered to escort him to the street. Charles was grateful for my offer and readily accepted. We covered our nakedness to make the descent back to the outside world. I went first so that I could break his fall should there be a misstep, but all went well and Charles was all smiles heading back into the magical light of Florence.