Kyle Matthews resides with his mother at an upscale apartment dwelling on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. He's an average guy with a trim build who works for an accounting firm down on Wall Street. Being raised in rural America, he has always been what could be termed a "nerdy introvert." Yet, behind his wire-frame glasses and distracting intelligence, he's rather attractive. Still, he's a quiet, unassuming 27-year-old bookworm who thus far has traveled through life doing exactly as his mother has told him. Always feeling that her failing health prevented him from seeking a life of his own, he has moved through this life like a contented somnambulist, expecting only his employment, food and shelter to adequately sustain him socially, emotionally and physically. And he has never morally felt that he's had the right to ask for more.

Kyle and his mother moved to this posh residence at 3737 Twelve Trees Place, from Alton, Wyoming when his father died a year ago. And as is usual with such high-end structures, a doorman is maintained 24 hours daily. And about a month ago, Louis Marcotti, the head doorman, financed his 19-year-old nephew's migration to the United States. Louis' intention is to have his ambitious nephew, Antonio, take college courses, find decent employment, and advance himself, culturally and economically, in America. Antonio Marcotti, a bright, charming, attractive, and energetic young man, was immediately hired by the building manager to work as an alternate doorman.

Antonio Marcotti began his stint as doorman three weeks ago. And for the past three weeks, Kyle Matthews, with his country-boy mindset, has gotten flustered whenever Antonio more than politely smiles and winks at him, as he comes and goes. At first Kyle shyly acknowledged the doorman's behavior as curious, amusing, or perhaps just plain stupid. And yet he still sensed something challenging about it. Well maybe not challenging, he thought - just somewhat unsettling. The tumultuous emotions that now surfaced within the naive farm-boy from Wyoming that resulted from the playful antics of the young doorman had never been fully explored. These unsettling emotions were intense and demanding. Still, he wasn't sure if the charismatic doorman was being overly polite and sincere, or just being a taunting wise-ass.

'Awh, screw it', finally thought Kyle, 'the guy's only a lousy doorman. Why should I get so uptight?'. Yet, for whatever reason, the fair-haired accountant continued to fluster himself over the befuddling doorman. No matter what his mind would be preoccupied with, it would eventually find itself voyaging back to analyzing those feelings precipitated by the very sportive doorman. The volume of mixed feelings surfacing within him over the curly-haired Italian guy had become all-consuming. Shy, introverted Kyle Matthews was rather perplexed - if not, slightly intimidated.

Well, soon all of Kyle Matthews' perplexity and intimidation would be confronted, head-on. It turns out that one Saturday morning, his mother traveled over to New Jersey to visit for the weekend, and he had the palatial apartment all to himself. Rolling out of bed around 9:00 AM, he made a breakfast of Peanut Butter and bananas, all flushed down with a pint of milk. At about 9:40 AM he flopped down at the PC in his bedroom to start work on ledger reports. Except for a pit-stop around 11:30 AM, he had been laboring at the computer for four hours. Dressed only in pajama bottoms, he sat there proofreading his work, when the phone rang. For some reason he tensed. Looking at the clock he noticed that it was 1:30 PM. Somewhat annoyed, he picked up the phone. He had told his few friends the day before not to phone him all weekend due to his backlog of work.

"Hello", grumbled Kyle. Waiting for a response, he was met only with silence. He said Hello again. But there was still no response, even though he sensed a strong presence at the other end of the line. "This isn't funny! Who is this?" asked Kyle. After a sudden deep inhale of air at the other end, the line went dead. "Moron!", groaned Kyle hanging up the phone and going back to his work. Twenty minutes later the accountant was interrupted by the buzzing of the doorbell. And again, he got pissed. He pondered why the doorman hadn't phoned to announce that someone was on their way up.

"Jeez!" he mumbled as he moved down the hallway toward the front door. He also wondered who could be so rude as not to have phoned before dropping by. Reaching the door, Kyle peeked though the spy hole. His gray-green eyes widened brightly and he slightly gasped. His heart began to thunder frantically. A boyish giddiness excitedly emerged within him and continued to quietly lay there just beneath his usual, no-nonsense exterior. A variety of diverse joyful/fearful emotions unrelentingly crowded his heart and head. It felt as though he rhapsodically floated in mid-air; and at the same time wanted to cry out "Go away". Still, an even more honest part of Kyle Matthews had him quickly fumbling with locks and chains to get the door immediately open.

"Bon Dia, Signor Matthews!" softly announced the accented voice of Antonio Marcotti, as he postured nonchalantly in the doorway. He no longer wore the long burgundy coat with the brass buttons and gold braids, and the garrison hat. A white polo shirt, fashionable blue jeans and Nike sneakers were his sparkling costume for the day. Kyle Matthews' consciousness was utterly overwhelmed by the radiant sexy smile and glowingly seductive blue eyes of Antonio Marcotti.

"Wha..wha...what do you want?" nervously uttered the usually stoic Kyle. As he spoke, he became embarrassingly aware of his underarms getting sticky with sweat that began to trickle down his sides, and that he was getting a quivering boner.

Gently, Antonio slipped his right hand up on the door. Leaning forward, he moistly licked the salty, velvety neck of the flustered accountant, simply saying" "You, my friend! You are what I want".

Kyle felt his erect cock furiously thrashing around inside his pajama bottoms. He felt compromised. He wanted to shut the door. His slight, five-foot-seven inch, 125-pound frame was slightly dwarfed by the five- foot-eleven inch, 155-pound, wiry, well-toned frame of Antonio. Moving his hard, young Italian body against Kyle, slightly pressing him against the wall, the sexy stud stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Embarrassed, Kyle tried to move out from under the hot, scented presence of the mesmerizing intruder.

"Where are you going?" asked Antonio as Kyle moved out into the middle of the small foyer. "This is no way to treat a guest, papi", continued Antonio as he stood there, hands on hips, glowing affection into the accountant's eyes.

"You're not a guest! I...I didn't invite you!' announced Kyle, making an effort to stand his ground.

Antonio's blue eyes, and generous smile, grew brighter. He tilted his handsome face to one side, pouted his full lips and asked, "Do you want me to leave, Kyle!? Do you really want me to leave, papi?"

Kyle felt like the entrapped fly, and Antonio was the web-spinning spider. All those truths that he had been denying the validity of for the past three weeks were flooding back to the surface, and exploding ferociously within his heart and mind. But it couldn't be so. Antonio is more macho than any guy I've ever seen, thought Kyle. He's not a fag. And I'm not a fag! But what's going on? This is too confusing. This is too good, concluded the Republican country boy from Wyoming!

"Yo, papi..!", began Antonio, putting a finger to his lips, ".. I asked you do you want me to leave?" With the question, Antonio moved in closer. Kyle did not flinch, nor move away. Antonio placed both his hands on Kyle's shoulders. Kyle did not move away. Antonio's radiant blue eyes swam in the cool green depths of Kyle's. Antonio's hands took leave of those small, smooth, peaches-and-cream shoulders and traveled up that graceful neck to cup Kyle's youthful, innocent face in both hands.

Kyle felt parts of his body being flamingly aroused and tempestuously itched for the first time ever. His 27-year-old, narrow, self-obsessed mind had never even remotely considered that happiness such as this could ever exist for someone like him. His heart ballooned jubilantly as he began to realize that the world was no longer some small, predictable, claustrophobic box populated by herds of stupid people that folks like him had to put up with just to get through the day. At this moment he joyfully began to see the world slowly evolving into an embracing, expansively radiant universe where a handsome, loving, fifty-foot tall Italian Warrior named Antonio was creating unimaginable magic with only his scintillating scent and electrifying touch. Through glazed and grateful eyes, Kyle saw the full, soft pink lips coming down to his - and it seemed just as right, and just as normal, as anything else in the world did.

Seeing no resistance, Antonio was emboldened to remove the wire-frame glasses and warmly bestow little, hot kisses all over that handsome, intelligent face - that very appreciative, sex-possessed face. Gentle and tender at first, the kisses soon grew more heated and passionate as the sexual scent of Kyle mercilessly fuelled the Italian's boiling lust.

Kyle could not believe all the explosively gratifying sensations he was blissfully enduring. He had never even considered that such happiness could be aptly harnessed from two guys touching each in an intimate and forbidden way. He had always thought that all homos looked like freaks, with tweezed eyebrows, dyed hair, exaggerated gestures, affected speech, and lots of effetely dramatic posturing; the very things that had always turned Kyle Matthews off with the idea of being gay. That was the sole reason for him constantly struggling so very hard to convince himself, and others, that he was straight.

But Antonio has no physical homosexual traits, thought Kyle, and neither do I. Yet we're both doing the sort of things that fags do, and there's nothing offensive or unpleasant about it at all!

Antonio's large, rough hands cautiously traveled down Kyle's lower back. Then, as rapidly as lightning, those hands swiftly invaded the low hung pajama bottoms and tightly clutched that sweet satiny bum. One middle finger then began to slip gingerly into the steamy, perspiring crack.

With his lips hotly imprisoned by Antonio's full, generous mouth, Kyle pressed into the Italian's hard body, moaning his disapproval, and his invitation, simultaneously. So, with his mouth being wetly sucked, and an invading finger at his virginal anus, the feel of Antonio's hot, steel-hard cock beating and banging on his stomach was enough to make Kyle dizzily euphoric with lust. He lasciviously hungered to do a multitude of sexual things to Antonio all at once. And the thought of that unattainable hunger had the boyish-looking accountant going weak in the knees, as he hoped and wished that Antonio would strip him bare of his pajamas.

"Am I going to make my papi faint?' asked Antonio lifting the accountant up, and slinging him over his right shoulder, and hotly headed for the nearest bedroom. With the man's ass cheeks only a few inches from his nose, he inhaled the inviting heady, musky aroma of nerdy man-ass. He wanted his tongue to lathe the source of that aroma until he had absorbed every drop. Slapping the man hard on those pink, pajama-covered cheeks, Antonio asked "Which way to your room, papi?"

"Straight ahead!" gushed Kyle, pulling up Antonio's shirt and inserting his hands inside the Italian's jeans.

"Oh, yeah, papi, Oh yeah!" shouted Antonio, swiftly charging down the hall toward Kyle's room.

Carefully laying the sex-enthralled accountant on the rumpled, unmade bed, Antonio Marcotti's mind grew even more ravaged by sex when he inhaled the intoxicating scent of Kyle within those bed covers. The aroma was a lusty, titillating mixture of male perspiration and sperm. Pulling the man's pajama bottoms off, Antonio kissed Kyle's feet, his faintly-haired legs, licked at his straining dick and balls, tongued on up to the navel, lingering there a bit, then segued onto the tender pink nipples, where he sucked furiously. As Kyle began trembling as if in a delirium, Antonio eased atop him and wetly inundated the glowing, youthful face with a medley of torrid kisses. Kyle thirsted to see his smoldering Italian lover in all his golden, naked majesty. He lusted also to see and hold that throbbing Italian phallus that behaved playfully with a mind of its own, just inside those faded jeans. Kyle had never felt so naked before - so naked and so unashamed. His hands came up to Antonio's face and held it while he kissed him. Antonio's eyes opened and looked into those wide, adventure-filled orbs. "Ah, my sexy papi wants to participate, huh? Well come on, baby, undress your daddy", cooed Antonio, getting up and standing beside the bed.

Kyle got on knees on the bed and slipped the polo shirt up over Antonio's head. The chest was expansive with large, brown, erect nipples. Kyle moaned out loud, "Oh, man" as he leaned forward to tongue and smooch the velvety chest; then wetly and hungrily kissed, sucked and licked the hard protruding nipples for several minutes. While doing so, his hands traveled down to the top button and zipper of the jeans. Unfastening and then pushing those jeans down over the narrow hips, at last the sex-crazed accountant claimed possession of that hard, thick piece of powerful Italian man-flesh. As his hands trembled frantically to claim it, Antonio's strong hands came up around Kyle's body. Grabbing him by his hot bottom, he pulled him up into his arms. Not wanting to let go of that big, hard, life-giving wonder, Kyle's weight shifted in Antonio's arms. And after a bit of awkward struggling, with Antonio's legs still trapped in his jeans at the ankles, they both went crashing to the plush carpeted floor of Kyle's bedroom. Antonio landed first with Kyle's cute little ass tumbling down on his rock-hard stomach and prancing cock.

"Yeeoooww!!....SHHIIIT!" screamed Antonio, throwing his legs in the air, forcing the lithe accountant to slide up onto his chest. Immediately Kyle began to chuckle at the unlikely position in which they found themselves. But Antonio was more intrigued by the hypnotizing fragrance that deliciously wafted out from under Kyle's crotch. It was the paralyzing ambrosia of musky, man-boy genitals. Like a starving mendicant, Antonio wildly clutched the sweaty rear-end and slammed the scented, vibrating cock and balls into his mouth. It became Kyle's turn to scream out in agonizing pleasure. "Ohhhhhh, goddddd, Oh, godddd! Oh godddd!' groaned the accountant as he got his first blowjob from a male. His whole body was breathtakingly alive. He experienced total pre-orgasmic euphoria as he lost himself in sensations of the hot, wet, sucking mouth and exploring tongue that pleasurably tormented his rigid cock and cum-filled balls. Simultaneously, Antonio's hands furiously massaged and kneaded the firm, smooth flesh of the accountant's peaches-and-cream ass cheeks. But when the index finger began to invade his tiny virginal anus, the Kyle could take the savage pressure no more. Crazily clutching Antonio's mane of lustrous curly black hair, Kyle began frantically humping that pleasuring mouth uncontrollably. Antonio, in turn, took those firm cheeks roughly into his hands, and ferociously pressed that delicious body tightly to his face while Kyle unashamedly exploded spurt after spurt of tasty, virgin man-boy juice into his very grateful, Italian-stud throat. Kyle wildly writhed, moaned and groaned in delight at the giving, and Antonio loudly moaned and groaned in the delight of reception.

In a matter of seconds, Antonio began to groan loudly in anticipation of giving of himself. Breathlessly he whispered "Come on, papi, come on, I want to give you some thick, full-bodied, Italian candy! Come on, git down there and make papi feel good!" Gyrating his hips, the Italian lust-puppy feverishly humped his hot, sweaty crotch into the air. Then, grabbing Kyle by the waist, he frantically turned him around on his chest, and shoved his head down toward his highly agitated truncheon. As Kyle stretched forward, Antonio finally got the long-awaited chance to taste that sweaty, fragrant man-boy ass. His waiting tongue sprang out like a coiled cobra into that hot, humid, beckoning haven. Ah the scent! The scent!, thought Antonio, as he lost his mind, hungrily devouring that steamy, pungent, all-satisfying meal. It ain't never been this good, thought the Italian warrior, arching his back, and reaching down to place his hands on the man's back. Gently holding Kyle's head close to his cock, Antonio noisily pummeled his mouth, face and hair with copious releases of hot, thick, tasty Italian semen.

For the ensuing twenty-four hours in his mother's antique-cluttered apartment, Kyle Matthews and his lover Antonio Marcotti kissed, licked, sucked and fucked each other in every manner possible and imaginable. The next morning, when Kyle's mother arrived home sooner than anticipated, Antonio escaped out the housekeeper's entrance just in time to avoid being seen.

So now, as Kyle Matthews comes and goes at 3737 Twelve Trees Place on the Upper East Side in Manhattan, and Antonio the doorman is over-attentive or over-accommodating, he is no longer flustered or confused. He knows that one afternoon soon, the handsome young doorman will stop by and skillfully awaken all those slumbering desires again.