Road to Rome

At least Antonio wasn't lying about the doctor.Brother Oliver knocked on the door early the next morning and let in a small, balding man of about fifty.Marco sat on the bed and yawned. He didn't put on his clothes, and he didn't plan to wear them for the time being.This seemed to make Brother Oliver very disturbed. He rolled his eyes from side to side, glanced at Marco, then at Antonio, who was dressed reasonably, then at the single bed on the right hand side that no one had slept in, and finally stared at the visitor's bag, muttering "This is Dr. O'Brien," he said, and retreated to the door, leaning against the wall like a displeased black cat.

Dr. O'Brien spent a minute looking for a suitable place to put the bag, took Marco's temperature, and then asked him to stand up, inspected the wound on the side of the waist, and asked how the injury was.Marco sincerely told that it was hit by a running American bison.Dr. O'Brien frowned at the wound, as if trying to connect the shape of the wound with a large wild animal.

"I think it's more like a bullet grazing, a burn mark around the edge—"

"It's a bullet scratch. This gentleman has a habit of not telling the truth." Antonio interrupted, and Marco gave the priest an innocent smile.

The little gray-haired doctor didn't comment on this, but rummaged through the cowhide bag.He disinfected Marco's wound, re-dressed it, and left a small vial of painkillers by the pillow.The short doctor then examined Antonio's right hand and announced that the burn had healed well and required no additional intervention.Brother Oliver thanked him dryly, took the doctor out, turned back, whispered a few words to Antonio, cast a last glance at Marco, and hurried away.

As soon as the door closed, Marco opened the window, closed one eye to analyze the angle, and threw the small glass bottle like a discus thrower. The medicine bottle drew a smooth arc and disappeared into the grass.

"Can't you express your opinion about drugs in a more general way?" Antonio asked.

"Isn't that boring?"

"With your clothes on, you look ridiculous."

"Friar Oliver can hardly take his eyes off me."

"That's shock, not admiration. Put your clothes on, Mr Costa, Theo has invited us to breakfast."

"Has he considered that I don't necessarily want to have breakfast with him?"

"Have you considered that he only wants to have breakfast with me, but due to social etiquette, he has to invite you?"

Marco covered his left chest with both hands, frowned, pretending to be in unbearable pain.

"It's childish."

"I'm just pointing out vividly that your words are hurtful."

"No, I mean your jealousy."

"Antonio Pelligrini." Marco put on a serious tone, stretched out his hand and pulled the priest closer, wrapped his waist around his waist, and made their crotch close together, "What did I do to make you think that Am I jealous? I don't even like you very much, sure, I like to fuck you, but it's not the same thing."

"I have to say I feel the same way, Mr. Costa. By the way, please refrain from using language like 'fuck', 'mafia', 'penis' later at the dinner table."

"Which words are they? Please say it again. I need to take notes."

Antonio refuses to step into this obvious trap, breaks free, and proceeds to rummage through all the black shirts and trousers in the closet, gather a suit of the right size, and toss it to Marco.The fabric exuded a musty smell that had been left unused for many years. Marco wrinkled his nose and put it on, leaving the two buttons below the neck open.If he had to wear the cotton armor, he had to at least make sure he could breathe normally.

The breakfast location is a room whose main function is difficult to determine. It looks like a living room, a dining room, and a less formal meeting room. There are coffee tables and two single sofas by the window, and a shovel is also placed for some reason. and a pickaxe.There is also a blackboard on the south wall, the kind used in middle schools, even with chalk.Napkins and three sets of knives and forks were spread on the oval conference table. Various newspapers of the day were piled in the middle of the table, and a pot of coffee was steaming temptingly. Mr. "Personal Relations" invited them to sit down, touched Antonio on the shoulder affectionately, and poured him coffee.Theodore obviously knew Antonio's taste, without asking anything, just added two cubes of sugar to the hot coffee without milk.

"Thank you, Theo."

Marco stepped on Antonio's foot lightly under the table, and the priest moved the chair back, pretending nothing happened.Marco fetched himself sliced ​​ham and bread, grabbed a newspaper, and made a loud noise.The other two ignored them, put their heads together, and whispered about things Marco hadn't heard of and people he didn't know.They didn't seem to need hot drinks any more, so Marco put the whole pot of coffee in front of him and unfolded the newspaper. On Tuesday, April 1942, 4, the war still occupied a lot of space.Another freighter was sunk by a German submarine yesterday, the Imperial Dryden[*21], you can guess from the name that it was a British ship.The column article lavishly praised the Dolittle Air Raid last Saturday[*01]. Marco finished reading those praises while eating, but he still couldn't see what was attacked. "Mr. Costa?"

He put down the newspaper.Both Antonio and Theodore looked at him expectantly, waiting for his answer, but Marco didn't know what the question was.

"Sorry, I thought I was never needed in this conversation."

"About Father Clement." Antonio reminded.

"I haven't been listening since the beginning, so we'd better retell it from the first sentence."

"We were just saying that maybe you'd like to rest here for two or three days until Father Clement comes over to talk to you about—I mean, come over and talk about something you'd really like to have settled in person."

"Two or three days?"

"Two or three days."

"Literally, it is still 'although you say two or three days, but in fact you will be imprisoned for three months'."

"Mr. Costa." Theodore interjected mildly, with a store salesman's smile on his face, "You see, we don't have the power to 'hold' you. If you insist, I can arrange a vehicle to take you back to New York right now , or wherever you want to go. Before you go, Father Clement is very keen to have a word with you. He called specifically to ask me to convey his simple wish. If possible, he must be here today. , but unfortunately, his position prevents him from being able to escape from his many duties. Father Clement—the Church begs you to wait about three days."

If Marco ever thought Antonio's bureaucratic accent was exaggerated, the friar with the salesman's grin was a whole other class, turning bullshit into a craft.He glanced at the priest, and Antonio also looked at him, but his face was expressionless.Marco looked away and smiled at Theodore.

"Okay, I'll wait."

"Thank you, Mr. Costa. I understand that the convent is not as expected, but Antonio and I will do our best to ensure your safety and comfort."

Security, an interesting word, Marco thought, sounds almost like a physical threat, if I insist on leaving, the Church will if Bruch doesn't get rid of me.He nodded and looked at Antonio: "I'm sure I'll feel comfortable."

"Great. Then I'll call New York now and tell you about your decision. Enjoy your breakfast, coffee can be refilled anytime." Theodore opened the door, turned around, and added another sentence, "Costa Sir, the monks here lead a simple life, I hope you will respect this way of life. You are free to enter and leave anywhere except the library, public dining room and garden. If you want to pray quietly, the chapel is also open for you , as long as there are no other monks inside."

"I'll try to remember all these rules. Perhaps Father Pelligrini will be willing to provide me with a handwritten memo later."

The monk smiled and went out, not responding to his sarcasm.As soon as the door closed, Marco turned to Antonio, raising his eyebrows.

"If you have something to say, say it directly." After a short silence, the priest spoke.

"I can't believe you've slept with someone like that."

"You bragged about 'sleeping several monks' not long ago, and that doesn't sound much better than mine."

"It's not the same, it's a rebellion against the church's cruel education system."

Antonio sighed, looking ready to say "Sir Costa" again.Marco nimbly slipped under the table and crawled to the opposite side with hands and feet. The priest was startled and asked "what are you doing" twice in succession.Marco held his thigh to prevent him from jumping up and running, then moved forward and started to undo the priest's pants.

"Is this also a revolt against the Church, Monsieur Costa?"

"No, just regular blowjob with legs spread."

"We should at least lock the door."

"why?"

"Obviously, I don't want to add new trauma to Friar Oliver."

Marco laughed and pulled Antonio's trousers down to his knees, then pulled off his panties and kissed the top of his cock.Fr has been half hard, not bad sign.Marco grabbed his trembling knees, spread his legs apart, lowered his head, sucked in a third, let his cock slide out again, turned his head, and kissed the inside of his thigh.Antonio took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair, hesitating as if he didn't know if he had the right to push Marco down.

"You have to give me instructions, Father."

"Okay, go ahead."

"Continue what?"

"Continue to complete the 'regular blowjob' you unilaterally initiated, Mr. Costa, thank you."

"I wish you'd speak dirtier." Marco looked up at him, "Sit down."

"I have no other choice."

You just can't not talk back, can you?Marco thought, finally swallowed the other's erection completely into his mouth, licked, and then sucked gently.Antonio clenched the hair at the back of his head, gasped with his mouth open, and soon couldn't help but lean forward, slightly at first, and then completely abandon politeness, if there was any such thing as politeness in the situation.The legs scraped the floor and creaked.The priest now rested his hands on the back of Marco's head and fucked his mouth eagerly, uttering short squeals.Marco hastily unbuttoned his pants and took hold of his erection.Just as Antonio let out a long whimper and grabbed Marco painfully, he also crossed the line that was only a few feet away, shooting on his fingers and the floor.For a long time no one spoke.The priest leaned back in his chair panting, looking at the ceiling, his trousers slid down to his ankles.Marco is still on his knees, with his head resting on Antonio's bare thigh.The bell rang somewhere, perhaps to remind the monks to do their daily duties. Antonio gently pushed Marco away, straightened his clothes, took a napkin from the table, and wiped the chairs and the floor.

"Fortunately we can get rid of each other in three days." Antonio threw away the crumpled napkin. "Otherwise I'll be forced to go to hell with you."

"If oral sex is allowed there, it's a place worth going." Marco patted his buttocks. "Want to take a shower together?"

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note

1.Empire Dryden, a British freighter, was sunk by a German U-boat in the Atlantic Ocean on April 1942, 4.

2.1942. The Doolittle Raid on April 4, 18, also known as Tokyo Raid, was the first air raid by the United States on the Japanese mainland during World War II. The damage caused was not large, and the main purpose was to boost morale.