Mario

It was late afternoon of the last day of May and I was still in my office to check your travel documents for the cars arrived that afternoon. The phone rings: Martina, the secretary, tells me that there is Mario, our workers, who wanted to talk to my dad and, since he is not now in the company, has asked to speak with me.

“Okay, do it up,” I say. Knock on the door, enters Mario, Mohamed anagrafe, a man of Moroccan origin, who moved to Italy for several years and about three careers as factotum and how involved the cleaning of vehicles. I think it has more than fifty years, about one meter tall, dark hair, slightly curly hair, olive skin, dry and quite muscular physique, large hands and a considerable bump that often has fueled my fantasies. I’m a pig, I know!

“Hello Mario, what happened?”

“Good evening, Simone, I want to talk to your father; he’s not there, he asked me if I know someone for work on cleaning, now too much work for me and he said to find help. “

“Okay,” I reply “you have someone to present?” He began to talk about the recently widowed sister who moved to Italy with his son who is seeking employment. It makes me a thousand eulogies of his nephew, who is a boy educated, hardworking, strong, and that pretty well speaks Italian. “Ok Mario, for me there are no problems, we do come in the morning and we’ll talk” Mario goes away doing a thousand bows and thanks.

Shortly after I’m out of the office, it’s late and I would go for at least an hour in the gym before doing the half-hour drive to get home: on the threshold of forty years it is best to stay in shape and then, I like it, it relaxes me and amuses me at the same time. I am a handsome, gay undeclared, male, one meter and eighty-five 80 kg: a nice chiavatone according to many.

7:30 the next morning, the phone rings, my father tells me that it’s going to the airport to catch a flight to Verona where he viewed the new car that would want to buy. “So today you’re not,” I reply, “Okay, there are no problems.” After about an hour and fifty kilometers behind already made early in the morning, arrival at the company. Parking and while I gather my things from the driver behind me I hear, “Good morning Simone”, is Mario, “Good morning Mario” I turn and see behind Mario a male figure that surpasses it in height: the face of the cock! I think, who is this splendor! I understand now that it is his nephew.

Mario speaks, but I do not understand a shit what you say, hidden by sunglasses, I pretend to look at the office building but, in fact, I’m literally devouring eyes the guy in front of me. Mario makes the introductions, we shake hands … and that hand! The boy says something, it has, but I do not understand his name as I was taken from that hand to feel manly and smooth at the same time that enveloped mine. “Okay, Mario, let’s go to my office and talk”, before greeting in the building or parts to the people I meet and while I am going to climb the stairs Martina calls me to tell me the news.

Back on my feet and tell the lads to start in my office. While they are at the reception desk, I turn to look toward the stairs and: My goodness that ass! The slightly tight jeans showed off all forms of the backside of the young, showing a nice waistline topped by broad shoulders as a cupboard. I recover, Martina keeps talking hands me the folders, take it and go on.

I climb the stairs two at a time, slow down, what the fuck it takes me, and yet I’ve seen and I’ve had guys facie it beginning with the two instructors of the gym I frequent, and ending with those who had known and fucked during my holidays in tropical countries. As usual greeting many encounter on the street and eventually arriving in my office down the hall.
Later, Mario and the hunk of his nephew are by the window looking towards the square below.

“Here I am,” I say entering: a beautiful smile with perfect white teeth framed by thick lips opens the tanned boy’s face, sharp features, a bit ‘of beard, slightly aquiline nose, thick black lashes frame the emerald green eyes, wavy hair and slightly gelled on top of the head and a little ‘shaved on the sides and back of the head. Prominent chest and flat abdomen are masked by a tight white cotton T-shirt, two arms shapely are the envy of a trapeze artist: in short, just a cool of the madonna. It shows about thirty-five years: it is a nice beef!
I have them sit down and explain to the boy his duties, understands and speaks Italian quite well: Agadir, where it comes from, he studied at the high school language, where he chose the Italian as a third language in predictions about moving to Italy as his relatives.
“We have been in Agadir” I say to him “the Rimini of Morocco, many large hotels, beautiful rooms and lots of fun” than the good guys on the beaches with mega cocks always hard and ready to fuck, I think to myself.

I tell Mario to accompany the boy to the office by the accountant for the practice of hiring “By the way, I do not remember your name” – “Majid, sir,” I replied, “In this company we give all of the ‘you’, you can call me Simone “-” Thank you Simone, you will not regret! “grin beneath mustache,” I will be a good worker and I’ll do whatever you want “do not say that Majid, otherwise I take this opportunity right now! We give a handshake looking at us in the eye and Majid, do not know if it was just me, leaving my hand caresses.

The two go away in a thousand bows and thanks: North African customary course.

At the closing of the door began to fantasize about Majid, obscene thoughts, big fucking filth and invade my mind. Because he caressed my hand? You will have already understood everything about me? However he understood or not I will gladly fuck. Did you see that physicist who? And the package? Simone, contieniti, you can not have sgam. I try to get back to work, but my thoughts are always the young Moroccan.

Days go by and whenever Majid meeting is a total disruption, I begin to fantasize and to arraparmi, I can not stay for more than ten minutes in his presence. Sometimes I start my office window from where there is a view across the yard behind and sull’autolavaggio; chiavatone see that the guy with the bib of his overalls down, shirtless, in the midst of water spray and foam sketches, I evoke scenes from porn movies. I do not deny that sometimes, to calm my wild oats, I locked myself in my room and I shot a good jerk.

So the weeks go by, and the first few months; before the summer break, my father arranges her house usual barbecue with everyone in the company, where I have a way to stop talking for a long time with Majid and on that occasion I discover that he has no girl: interesting clue! Finally the day after giving birth to Mykonos for two weeks with my usual group of gay friends, so fun and fucking guaranteed.

September arrives and passes like the other months: I always troubled by the idea of Majid. Often with the excuse to verify the information I get off the car in the square and I make sure to have a chat with the guy and enjoy the show of that physical half naked. On one such occasion, while talking to a draw Majid of this and lesser known pants swollen and seem to have a nice big cucumber pushing left immediately halls me a mega erection. Majid notice that I’m staring at her promontory, un’aggiustatina from the pack and looking makes me a mega smile, nodding toward my pack, it makes me a wink. I smile too, are embarrassed, I greet him hurriedly and back in my office. In the bathroom give vent to my wild oats.

October. Begin the rainy days and gloomy. They closed with curtains made of PVC of the car-shed: from my office can not see anything. What a shame, I was working so well with that view.

One Saturday morning I had to go to the office to receive a load of vans and make it as another drive, so there was a lot ‘of work to do. I was only in company with the two drivers who were supposed to leave. I take the documents in the office and I go in the square, where they were already downloading the vans arrived.