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It was still several minutes before the dog's knot began to deflate enough to allow his cock to slip from my hole. It was a disgusting sound! I liken that sound to that of a plumber's helper as it is pulled free from unclogging a toilet. The trapped mixture of our coupling bubbled and belched from my gaping hole. I was completely humiliated and sickened. Now all the suppressed emotions flooded into my mind. How could I have allowed this to happen? How could I have actually enjoyed this? Tears filled my eyes and shame filled my soul.The roar of the onlookers quieted to a murmur and was replaced with heavy breathing and the sound of sex filled the room. The sickening odor of sex filled my nostrils and my eyes slowly opened again only to focus on a scene of total debauchery. Men and women were naked and writhing on the floor and furniture. They were doing foul thing to one another and gender did not seem to matter. Cocks were being shoved into any available orifice. Men with men with. I frequently looked at him too. Federico was nude, his willowy boy’s body moving as if in a languid dance. He was the seventeen-year-old amante maschile—male lover—of my host, the Italian opera impresario, Lorenzo Scarlotti.I couldn’t concentrate on the drawings. I watched the beautiful blond Italian boy move around the pool. He seemed to be purposely doing a sensuous, slow dance for me to watch. My hand went below the waistband of the swimming trunks I was wearing and my mind went to dreams of “what if.” Federico had been flirting with me for days and I’d been resisting. I’d been there before; I didn’t want to fall into that again. I’d have to go back to the States where it was out of the question and could only frustrate me.Federico put the skimmer down and climbed the stone stairs to the covered porch overlooking the pool that I was sitting on. He knelt before me and his hands went to the waistband of my swimming trunks. Guiltily, I withdrew my hand, but of course he had seen.
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