Bella prided herself on being what she thought was a ‘real woman.’ She had curves, body fat, body hair, and a loud voice that flaunted her many very strong opinions, very often. She grew up in Naples, Italy but was born in Rome. And currently stayed in Venice with her Immigrant boyfriend Pierre. Three guesses on where he’s from, and the first two don’t count.

If you didn’t guess Belgium. I don’t blame you. A lot of people forget it exists and that French speakers live there as well.  Pierre was the epitome of everything stereotypically European while being quintessentially Belgian at the same time.  His blasé attitude made apathy look sexy.  His dark skin and strong cheekbones spoke to the long ancestry of his parents migrating north from Sub-Saharan East Africa that gave him smooth skin that was nearly hairless everywhere. His eyes were milk-water gray like the dark of his everything tried to capture something pale and light for itself. It just made his eyes look haunted, full of frail light of the mutated rods and cones inherited from his albino mother,  who had no pigment in her eyes at all, and was barely 5 foot tall. Pierre was six foot seven and was always looking for inspiration which is how he met Bella at a visiting Van Gogh exhibit at the Venice Art Museum.

This young couple would soon put in an ad online to be a host family for awkward American exchange students studying abroad. I was one of those students.  My name is Paul Michaels. Bella ended up calling me Paolo or just Paulino, when she would pinch my cheeks and kiss me hello. And sometimes when she was feeling playful, she’d call me Michelangelo, as if my being an art history major didn’t set me up for that one as well.

She was always so excited and so outgoing and upbeat. Pierre not so much. He was dissociated nearly 90% of the time. He was either scrolling on his phone or staring at something as if in a trance. Bella’s round squishy body was so often giving me kisses and talking my ear off about the latest things all the time. Or asking me to taste something, or helping me practice my Italian that I barely got any time to talk to Pierre one x one  the first few weeks I stayed with them.

Pierre spent most of the day painting something or going on long walks to take photos to use in some other art project.  So if I wasn’t doing my homework, I was spending time with Bella, with her loud voice,  and boisterous laughter and energy.  And her very strange cooking.  I asked her why she didn’t take the bones out of her food when she cooked the dish, she gave me this very sultry expression as she said, “It’s garnish. I am a modern woman but I like to pretend I went out and hunted all of this for you and killed it with my bare hands before I prepared it for you with spices and sauces and bread.”  Then  she tore a piece of meat from one of the bones and sucked on it long and slow, winking at me when I blushed. I quickly finished my meal and went to take a shower. 

That night,  I had my first orgasm. I couldn’t stop thinking about Bella in some tribal outfit killing game for her family.  I didn’t realize my hands were on my dick until it was spitting all over my chest, and I felt this wave of relief and pleasure.  I’m asexual, I’ve never had sexual attraction toward anyone.  And while I was born with a penis, I don’t  masturbate as often as someone with one usually does.  I just sort of exist with it and when it gets hard out of the blue - well I hide in the bathroom and listen to NPR podcasts til it feels soft again.  I never really understood the point of sexuality until that night.  I know it seems so bizarre for a man to not have his first orgasm until adulthood, but I know I am probably not the only one. It is not necessarily something that is easy to talk about. Most people would not understand. 

After I came, I realized I could hear the sound of moaning through the walls, and I got up to go see what was going on. The sounds were coming from Pierre and Bella’s room.  Their door was cracked so curiosity got the best of me and I peeked inside.  He was kneeling on the bed - arms bound to the bed post with bright orange rope and Bella was behind him, wearing only a corset and a strap on dick, fucking him in the ass.  Hard.  The moans were coming form Pierre,  as Bella just fucked the sense out of him.  He came hard and his arms pulled on the ropes, only then did Bella stop. She pulled out of his ass slowly, “Do you want to clean yourself off my dick, Pipi Pierre?”

He mumbled some sort of noise, and she was walking around to the side of the bed.  The new angle would mean if she looked in this direction she’d notice me - so, trying not to and failing - I stepped on a creaky floor board as I tried to quietly bolt for my room.

I stayed there doing homework for three days barely interacting with either of them.  One day I woke up - and nearly had a heart attack- because Pierre was in my room, staring at me, watching me sleep.  I had never interacted with this man - barely said more than hello to him and now he was standing in my room watching me.  “Pierre?” 

He turned those foggy eyes to look at me.  He was eating a banana, slowly chewing.  “You saw something you did not mean to the other night and now you feel so much shame you are hiding in here,” he said.  It was a statement like he knew. He wasn’t asking to verify, he knew I had been watching them that night. I stammered awkwardly.  “Y-Yes.  I’m sorry for violating your privacy. I heard the moaning sounds and I was concerned that something was wrong, that one of you was hurt.”

Pierre didn’t make any facial expressions when he spoke.  “She cracked the door on purpose,” he said simply as he took the final bite of the banana, folded the peel in his hands, and put it in his pants pocket.  I twitched. 

“She wanted me to see you two having sex?”

“The last persons we hosted here were so promiscuous and slovenly, I think she was concerned for your dick not getting any play and wanted to help you out.”

“She was concerned about my -  Why? That is odd for her to be concerned about.” 

Pierre smirked.  “You Americans can be so prudish and you think it's modesty. It’s not. Sex Negative Culture does nothing but stifle the libido from its natural creative expression.”

“My dick is fine.”

“Is it?”

Pierre’s gaze looked at me up and down slowly like a seduction.  I felt awkward because I just woke up and my body was still hard the way it normally is when I wake up until I pee.  I tried to make sure I wasn’t bulging too much and gathered the blankets around my lap.   

“Does my interest offend you?”

“I’m not offended. I just have never … done anything with anyone.”

Those water puddle eyes went wide, “You’re a virgin?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve never done … anything, with anyone? Ever?”

“No.”

“Are you religious?”

“I just haven’t had the opportunity.”   I evaded.  I didn’t like talking about spirituality with people. It got weird because unless you fit into a neat box with a label, people  expected you to explain things to them.  And my views on the spiritual world are very complex and complicated. 

Pierre stared at me a long moment before he grunted in acknowledgement of what I said and then tilted his head at me.  “If you ever want to change that. Let me know.”

The awkwardness was not dissipating at the fuck all.  “I, uhm, yeah I will do that, you’ll be the first to know.”   

He stared at me one more time before turning to leave my room. The next time all three of us were at dinner,  Bella made her famous  Spaghetti alla Puttanesca and things were quiet for a few moments before her voice spoke and broke the silence. 

 “You are doing okay in your studies, Michelangelo,”  she asked me.  

I nodded and dabbed my mouth politely with my napkin.  “Yes,  very okay,  thanks for asking.  How are things going with the shop?”

“Doing well. We had that big sale end yesterday,  I think we’re going to break even this month.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“Paulino, why you never bring over any girlfriend or boyfriend or anything?”

Here we go…

“I would rather focus on my studies, relationships take a lot of focus and energy.”

“Have you ever had a girlfriend ... or boyfriend?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Never ever? Attractive male like you? Not even one?”

I had taken another forkful of pasta and just shook my head, not wanting to talk with my mouth full. Bella was looking at me with an incredulous stare. I glanced at Pierre, his plate was barely touched and he was focused scrolling something on his phone, that rare moment of lucidity and connection was gone now. He was back to his normal dazed and silent self. 

“Well, then we must educate you in the ways of sex as part of your stay here with us.”

“What?”

“You want to get married or have a partner one day, right?  People respect experience and skill.”

“Why can’t I just find someone who respects my mind?”

“That comes after. But first you need to have enough experience to give you pheromones to have chemistry with people.  You’re like a moist towelette, useful but disposable. Is that what you want?  Always the good friend, always the so easy to talk to but never good enough to fuck or love in a deep meaningful way?”

I blinked awkwardly at her.  I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t against the idea, but I didn’t understand why it was a big deal. I shrugged. She nodded and said the main thing she said a lot, and always in Italian but it basically translated to ‘It’s decided’ or ‘It’s done. 

And then dinner was over. Suddenly I was in my room, wondering what the fuck just happened, cursing my curiosity for getting me into this mess. Staring at my hard on in my pants from having watched the way Bella danced when she cleaned the kitchen.  Pierre hardly moved the whole night, lost in his phone, his face not emoting that he’d heard anything we discussed. But something told me that he told her.  How else would that have abruptly been the conversation at dinner tonight  - when  moments earlier that day he had confronted me about the same thing.  The sound of his voice, sotto deep and melodic.  And Bella’s hips so wide, and her jiggly belly and arms, and long hair that got everywhere on everything. The thought of her in that corset -  fucking Pierre his moans so loud it drew me from my room.

I was jerking off again. It felt good. I couldn’t help it. It was like I had to now, whenever I thought of them. I needed to get off when I thought about certain elements about them. Was this what sexual attraction felt like?! People felt this all the time?! I felt very lucky suddenly that I didn’t wrestle with this in a regular capacity. It seemed focused and centered on just the two of them. When I came, I cried out and immediately clapped my hand over my mouth in panic that someone heard me. My eyes were wide as I watched my jizz drip like wet paint from the ceiling into a bloop of wet on the floor.  Shiit….

________________

I woke up to Bella shaking me and her big, full face close to mine. I nearly screamed. 

“Wake up, Paulino. Wake up! We go shopping today, get you some clothes.”

“What? Why? What time is it?”

“Twelve past seven, we must beat the sales traffic.  Get up, get dressed,  we’re going in five minutes plus ten.”

Hours of shopping at so many stores, and trying on many clothes, was what I was anticipating.  We did go to one clothing store and I got two good outfits, but the other stores we went to were mostly specialty stores for adult entertainment.

“It is important to know what you like, Paulino.”  Bella said as she walked down this aisle full of bras and  lingerie.  I never felt so awkward in my life.  And I watched as she joked and socialized with the store owner, speaking rapid Italian, too fast for me to keep up with my level of learning the language. Soon it was just loud laughter as I walked around trying to look around and see if I found anything interesting. If I was here, might as well.  I came across a mirror and looked at my boring figure and boring face.  I was scruffy, didn’t have time to shave before leaving but I kind of liked it.  Made me feel like I was a dreamy artist … kind of like Pierre,  if I had his oversized scarves and tight jeans ripped at the knee and tattered around his boots or chunky sandals.  And while I was standing there  - imagining myself in the aesthetic of a dissociated Belgian artist, my dick got hard.  Very hard.  Did this mean I was gay now, or  bisexual  or … at least no longer asexual like I thought?  Aceflux? Graysexual?  I don’t know. I guess I will figure out the labels later. 

I couldn’t stop thinking of myself as him though.  He was dreamy and exotic. I know it's problematic to call someone ‘exotic,’ but I didn’t know another word at the moment. And I’m so aesthetically boring. I wish someone would think of me as exotic. There is nothing exotic about being an American male.  I walked away from the mirror. My dick was still hard, but it was softening now because I was being harsh on myself.

Bella found me again.  “Paulino!  C’mon, you must find something you like, huh?  Nothing you see excites you? Did you see the movie section? Did you see they have dildos over there? What about rope or clamps or  --?”

I just shook my head. She frowned at me. “What’s wrong?”

I didn’t know if I should tell her I was fantasizing about Pierre and felt like a bland piece of toast in comparison. Would she get upset? I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t say the words, I just shook my head and frowned. Bella brought me to her bosom in a sudden hug.  

“It’s okay Paulino, we go get coffee,  you tell me about it, you can tell Bella anything. Okay?”

And so we left the store.

_______________

The cappuccino she ordered me was delicious. We sat quietly drinking. After a few moments she leaned forward and slipped her long nailed finger under my chin, raising my head, so that I would give her my eyes. I looked at her full face,  thick brows, make up to highlight her dark eyes and make her lips look really red to match her blouse. Her hair was in a sloppy bun of curls but a few stray hairs framed her face.  “Talk to Bella, Paulino. You trust me, right?”

Swallowing down the lump in my throat.  “Yes.”  My voice rasped in reply.  “I… I thought I was asexual before I saw you and Pierre having sex.  And now I am not sure what I am but I have never … had sex or  even masturbated to orgasm really before that night  and now  every time I look at either of you or think about either of you for too long, I get... aroused, and I am starting to feel strong thoughts, and I don’t know what to do about them. I’m terrified. This has never happened before.”

The words spilled out of me like I was pouring my troubles into the dark pools of her eyes, warm like coffee, deep like a void where you can throw your sorrows and never think about them again, because she’d just turn the sorrow into a bone and use it as garnish somewhere.

“I … I’m sorry I ….”

“Shhh shhh,  it’s okay, you’re talking, that’s good!  I ask for that. Listen to me, Paulino.  Labels are nothing. Gay, straight. asexual, pansexual, vanilla,  kinky? Ultimately they are not everything. You get turned on seeing me and seeing Pierre?  Nothing wrong with that, Paulino.  Nothing at all.  All Adults.  Bodies have reactions.  And if you want, I can ask Pierre if we can play a little bit. Get you some mileage, eh?  And if Pierre is too involved in whatever art he’s doing then… you and I can have some fun, what do you say huh?”

I nodded slowly.  “Okay. That could be fun.”

“Good!  You will feel less stressed out once you have done it.  It’s fun, you’ll see!”  she said,  and smiled a nice and big smile before the waiter came over and gave her the check.  I felt my dick perk up a bit and I let myself look at her.  The curve of her neck, the thick of her arms,  her very abundant breasts.  My dick got harder, I saw myself  rubbing my dick between those large breasts.  I got so caught up in the fantasy that  Bella had to snap her fingers at me to get my attention to let me know we were leaving.  I wondered if she could tell I was fantasizing about her but didn’t care or if she couldn’t tell. But when I think about it. Beautiful women …can always tell. I don’t know how I knew that, but it felt like a truth I had possibly intuitively gleaned when I was staring into the void of her eyes.

Sometimes, when you stare into a void, and vent or bare your soul -  you are granted a boon. Some wisdom, or clarity about a certain truth key to the situation of what you vented about. Sometimes it is what the particular void considers true in a universal way.

_____

Pierre was out when Bella and I got home.  She suggested I put my new clothes away and then to meet her in her bedroom - that my first erotic experience was going to be with just her, since Pierre was out on one of his walks.  I did put the clothes away, then taking a deep breath I made my way across the flat to her room and slipped inside.  She exited the closet wearing a sort of lingerie ensemble with a thin matching robe. 

“Are you ready, Paulino?” She asked, her voice husky. I was already getting aroused.  Her thighs were so thick and her hair was down, cascading curly waves over her shoulders.

“Yes.”

“Well why don’t you undress so I can see that delicious body of yours…Michelangelo.” She climbed on her bed and watched me with a big grin.  I smiled nervously and started to take off my shirt, then my pants and socks and then slowly pull down my underwear. I cupped my hands over my sex out of a reflex habit.

“Oh please, let me see it, Paulino?” She pouted.

Slowly I moved my hands away from it. She exhaled roughly and then swung her long thick legs over the bed and looked me up and down. I got hard under her gaze.  I never gave much thought to my size or girth, but I swear, watching her stare at it with that look in her eye, I felt like a god, or a king or something.  I was about to ask a question but she curled her finger at me to come close, as she  looked at me with big curious eyes. “May I touch? May I taste it? Please, Paulino, you look delicious…”

I stammered, trying to find words and make them come out of my mouth, but just ended up nodding perhaps a bit too fast and too much for too long. I could hardly breathe, my heart was going so fast in my chest, I felt like I screamed when her hand wrapped around it.  Her hand slid up and down the shaft, and a finger ran along and over the slit at the tip.  “Oh wow…..”

My body was shaking as I watched her bend to take me in her mouth.  

Holy.  Fucking.  Hell.  

I couldn’t think, I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t do anything but  curl my toes. Something instinctual inside me pressed her head down as my hips bucked into her mouth.  I was fucking her mouth like it was a hole much lower. That thought pulled a groan out of my throat hitting some bass note so primal I didn’t think my voice could reach that register. 

 “Oh Bella….”  I panted once she started pumping and bobbing her head on it,  stroking me off with her lips and swirling her tongue around me  I was going to lose control -  I was on the fucking brink of losing control  - when Pierre entered the room.  I noticed him walk in, just in his normal trance, taking off his boots and lost in his phone.  Bella must have heard him but she didn’t stop. I didn’t tell her to stop, I assumed she would because we were no longer alone but she didn't stop cos I didn’t tell her to, and fuck,  I did NOT want her to stop.  I felt like my vision was getting fuzzy, I was watching Pierre bend over to get his boot off, his ass was so perfect in those jeans and I just lost it.  

I cried out and  bucked in Bella’s mouth, the pleasure was so intense my eyes squeezed shut, and I kept making these pleasure noises, I couldn’t fucking help it. Her tongue … her amazing fucking tongue kept swirling, and I was so sensitive, but I didn’t want her to stop, I needed her mouth to just keep doing that forever.  Pierre was looking at me once I opened my eyes the aftershocks of my orgasm fading, and I was softening a bit. Bella slid me out of her mouth and wiped her chin with a satisfied smile. 

“How is he?” Pierre asked Bella as if I wasn’t there.  She turned over and looked at him with a floaty smile.  “Bellissimo!” she purred. 

Pierre came over to sit on the bed and he looked at me. His pale eyes always felt like he was blind. But when he looked at me, I felt cut to the quick, like he saw into my soul, and was slicing it open with every slow and calculating blink.  It was a  dissecting gaze. He looked at people  to see beauty and inhale its secrets like a drug that keeps him so dazed and out of it.  

“May I join you two for the next round?” He asked. 

Bella looked up at me. I nodded. “I’d like that.”

And Pierre smirked and nodded once, as he moved to recline more fully on the bed.  Soon I moved on the bed too, on the other side of Bella.  Pierre and Bella were making out and I was watching them kiss like they’d been starved for each other.  Pierre was making soft needy moan sounds.  He made more noise during sex than he did not having sex. He broke the kiss and just breathed a moment, their foreheads touching, “I’m gonna switch,”  he said to her, his voice intimate and low but I heard him. Bella nodded,  “Go ahead, you’re safe, safe to unmask, it's just your Bella and Paulino.” She reassured him, caressing the side of his face gently.

Pierre sighed softly and his body went limp for half a second before he opened his eyes again.  And he looked more … animated now. It clicked in my head  why he looked so dissociated and dazed all the time - he was masking.  Pierre must have had some dissociative personality disorder.  Somehow hearing him say he was going to switch and then watching him switch was attractive to me, made him more attractive to me. He looked at me with that sharp gaze - like the time he was in my bedroom with the banana.  “I’m pleased you changed your mind and decided to take me up on my offer,” he said.

“Yeah…”  I was a bit confused on what to call him now, or rather, who I was speaking to. I didn’t know the protocol or etiquette in regards to interacting with a dissociative person, but my dick was hard and it didn’t seem like a good time to have a serious conversation about Neurological Social Etiquette and Protocol.   

“I’m Francis, the one with the Banana. I see you have your own banana now,” he joked as his gaze looked down at my erection. I chuckled,  “Yeah, I do, I did then too, but  this time  I am okay if you want to taste and play with it.”

Francis smiled and chuckled. “Why don’t you taste mine first?”

“Okay!” I almost cringed at how eager I sounded just from that one word. Bella giggled, apparently finding it adorable or endearing in some way. 

I moved and got between his legs. He had his pants unzipped, and was idly stroking himself. I took over by wrapping my lips around him. Sucking my first dick, I gotta say, was beyond enjoyable. I liked the way I intuitively knew what to do by just imagining what I would like someone’s mouth to do on my dick and doing it to his.  He came really quick, and said I was a natural.  Bella pulled me to her to taste the cum from my mouth by kissing me.  “Now it's my turn, Paulino.” She said, and spread her legs a bit, fingering herself and then smearing her wetness on my lips. 

“Taste me… taste me … here… she likes kisses too.”

Licking my lips, I moved my way down and rubbed my face on her hairy mound before spreading her open and licking and kissing her here. She was very savory but her sounds were sweet.  She had to direct me a bit but after a few nudges on where to lick and suck, I found what she liked and did more of that.  I was caught off guard when she started cumming and nearly trapped my head with her thighs a moment as her body writhed. I moved my hands up to hold her down when she spasmed her legs open again and then just sucked and licked harder and more until she told me to stop. Then Francis brought me in to kiss him so he could taste her from my lips.  I was painfully erect, but he held out a small bottle of lubricant that he must have gotten when I was down below on Bella.   

“Now, do you want to fuck my ass, or you want me to fuck yours?”

I laughed - not sure how to answer that -  they both sounded good and I didn’t know how to decide.  Francis smirked through Pierre’s face as if he understood how that would be a difficult thing to decide.  “This is just tonight. There will be other nights where we can do it again, or do more. Your awakening has only begun, Paul Michaels.  It only gets better from here on out, Trust me.”

And I did. 

The nights that followed were filled with so much sex and passion that it made it hard to leave when my time abroad came to an end - and I had to return to the States to finish my degree.  I’m forever grateful for my summer in Venice when I was deflowered and taught more about art and life than I ever learned about in any book I have read on the subject since. If you’re wondering if I ever saw Pierre and Bella again? Well my answer to that is I am currently an Art History Professor at the Accademia di Belle Arti di Venezia -  a school for the arts in Venice Italy. Take three guesses to figure out where I’m living, and the first two don’t count.