“I knew you didn’t recognise me and I’m not trying to make you feel guilty for that. I just needed you to remember who I was, to hopefully make you see why I’m kind of fucked up.”
“I don’t remember you speaking Italian, Dante. Sure, you have an Italian name, but apart from a trace of an accent when we were at the centre, you never spoke a word of Italian.”
One corner of his mouth curled up in a smile. “So with all the possible questions you might have for me, my lack of Italian back then, is your number one concern?”
“Oh I have questions for you. I’m just curious about the Italian.”
Dante sighed. “When I left the centre about a month or so, after you, I was not exactly welcomed back into the family home. My mother just saw me as a constant source of embarrassment, and my father was incapable of doing little else, besides voice his disappointment in me. Dad was offered a job, out of the country. It was high profile, and I think I suddenly went from an annoyance and embarrassment, to a liability.” He paused for a moment, his eyes unfocused, and I knew he was reliving that awful time of his life.
“So what happened to you?” I asked.
“I was sent to Italy. Most of dad’s family still lived there. I went to live on my Grandparents’ farm.”
“Oh Dante, I’m so sorry.” I whispered.
He lifted his eyes to mine. “Oh no cara. Going there was my salvation. I worked my Grandparents’ vineyard in Tuscany. For the first time in as long as I could remember, they showed me kindness and love. They also showed me how to run a winery, and because it’s a very old property, and they didn’t modernise things much, it was very physical work. I thrived there. I lost weight there. Nonna and Nonno showed me how to eat healthy food, and with all the exercise, I began to lose weight. I thrived on the demanding workload after a while. Toiling out under the hot sun, seemed somehow right, I connected with nature, the land and I loved it.
Living in Italy saved me cara, in every way possible. My Grandparents were good to me, they loved me. Can you imagine what it felt like, to finally have people who cared about me, who loved me?”
My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, hearing his heart breaking words. God, he’d suffered so much, until fate had intervened. Chances were, if he’d never gone to his Grandparents’ vineyard in Italy, he wouldn’t be alive now. Just thinking of this beautiful man, gone forever, brought tears to the back of my eyes.
“As I lost weight, I began to do resistance training too, and eventually I was strong. I became my version of Arnold. I finally got to live my dream.”
“So that’s where you picked up the Italian from I gather?”
He nodded. “Of course, Nonna and Nonno spoke Italian most of the time, as I started to learn it.”
“Obviously you came back to Australia though?”
Dante’s face fell, and I saw the sadness enter his eyes. “I was in Italy five years, when Nonno died from a sudden heart attack. Poor Nonna was devastated. They’d been together since they were teenagers. She lasted one year without him, before dying in her sleep one night. I suspect from a broken heart.”
His sorrowfully spoken words catapulted me off the bed, and onto the floor, to wrap him in my arms. “Oh Dante, I’m so sorry. You had people who loved you, and in the end you lost them. So you came back to Australia after that?”
“I had no idea they had left the winery to me. I ran it without them for a year or so, made a lot of changes, modernising it, so it would be competitive with the surrounding vineyards. It wasn’t the same without them though. I didn’t want to stay there without my Grandparents, so I hired people to manage it, and then I came home. I was in Italy almost eight years, cara. I had changed so much. Funny thing, my parents’ suddenly decided I was a suitable son to acknowledge, and they even had a girl from a family they were friends with, who was chosen for a suitable merger. In other words, they wanted us to marry. I wasn’t going to be manipulated by them, and forced to do something I had no desire to do. I also had no desire to start fresh with my parents. I walked away, moved down here, and never looked back. I bummed around for a couple of years, before joining Dial A Stud.” Dante subtly wiped at his face, and I realised there were tears rolling slowly down his cheeks.
“You have had such a sad life.” I kissed his cheek gently. “How I wish I’d known you beyond the centre. I still don’t know why you remembered me, all this time, or even bothered to try and find me?”
“I remembered you cara, because besides my Nonna and Nonno, you were the only other person who treated me with kindness. People treat me well now, especially women, but that’s because they’re shallow, and only see this.” He waved his hands down that gorgeous body of his. “They wouldn’t have given me a second of their time, if I’d still been obese.”
“It’s still hard to believe you’re Arnie though.” I told him. “I’m sorry that you had so much pain growing up Dante. It does sound like you were very fortunate, to end up with your Grandparents in Tuscany. So how did you end up working as a stud for Dial A Stud?”
“It was one of those unexpected things. I met Alex and he was one of the studs. He told me I’d be just what the women wanted. I think at the time, I didn’t think about whether it was a good idea or not. Girls had never wanted me, back when I was obese. As Arnie, what did I have to offer cara? Nothing. I was overweight, painfully shy, a virgin. There was nothing about me that the girls found attractive. Alex painted a picture of women, sex and money. It was tempting to me, especially when I was feeling lost after losing my Grandparents, and being back in Australia, after so many years away.
I’d gone from the person no girls wanted, to suddenly being groped, and getting all sorts of suggestive notes shoved in my pockets, and phone numbers thrown at me. Women handed themselves to me on a platter, Grace. It was exciting for a while, then nauseating. These women still didn’t care about me. I was a dare, a desire, a need for them, even a challenge for some. It was very different to my childhood, when girls, had looked at me, with disdain and revulsion. Now women looked at me with desire and lust. Funny how the attitude changed so much, once I lost the weight. Chances are, if I was still overweight, no women would have wanted me.”
“You were a sweet, kind person Dante. I’m sure there would have been women who wanted you for that.”
He smiled at me, a sad kind of smile. “Yeah, that’s the standard response isn’t it? He had a great personality, which translates to; he had nothing else to offer a woman. Whether the attitude is right or not cara, no one wanted me when I was morbidly obese. Not even my own parents.”
Listening to him speak, with every word, I felt a fragment of my heart splinter away. God he’d endure so much pain and hurt; unbelievable hurt at the hands of people who should have loved him unconditionally.
“So I can understand for a young man, the money, women and sex, would have been tempting to join Dial A Stud, but you sound almost like the attention of the women turned you off. So how on earth did you end up pleasuring women for a living? How did you overcome body image issues? Did you have them?
If you are anything like me, even when the weight is gone, it doesn’t change the mindset of the person. It doesn’t matter how many times, Mel tells me I have a great body, and that men will love it. Inside I’m still that plump, insecure girl.”
Dante turned serious brown eyes on me. “You are beautiful. You are the most beautiful woman to me. I thought you were so pretty, back, all those years ago, and kind, so kind. You are right though. I don’t see myself as the stud women call me. I still look at my body and see room for improvement. That’s why I eat the food I need, to help me bulk up, and work out every day, for an hour at least.”
“Dante, you are beautiful, both inside and out.” I kissed his cheek. “So I still don’t understand why you ended up working for Dial A Stud, when women already made you feel like a piece of prime beef.”
I watched a tinge of colour darken his cheeks. “I’m ashamed to admit that I
figured, if women wanted to use me for sex, why not do as Alex was suggesting, and be paid for it? If I was going to be treated like a piece of prime beef, as you call it, then my satisfaction, from it all, was a healthy pay cheque, for my efforts. In other words, I used them too cara.
At first, it wasn’t all bad. I learned a lot. I learned how to please a woman, and I prided myself on doing my job well. Being a stud for Dial A Stud means we are paid by demand. The studs who are requested the most, make more money. I saw it as a challenge, to be the one, most women requested.
The trouble was, no matter how much money I made, eventually, it all became too much. Ironically, my popularity with the ladies became my downfall.
There were so many women, so many demands to deliver, as many orgasms, as we could to them. Give them what they want because they’re paying a lot of money for it. Don’t come, don’t come, don’t come, was drummed into us. We’re only good when we can keep it up, and I won’t resort to popping pills to maintain an erection. Most times, we had to fuck them and fuck them, but not come. It is hard for a man, to be erect, for so long, with no release, no relief. Yet, I did it. I saw it as a challenge, to deliver what women wanted. The better I got, the more demand there was for me, and the more money I made. I got off on the success. I got off, on being in demand. Suddenly, I was wanted, by a lot of women. Can you imagine? Me, the boy no one had wanted?”
I watched his face, the animation in his expression, until the light faded from his eyes, and my heart broke for him, all over again. Something told me, I knew where this was going to go.
“Eventually, it was too much. It got harder and harder to come. On those occasions when a woman wanted me to come, or when I was home, and could use my hand to bring relief, I couldn’t, and I would be left in such pain. I have probably experienced more cases of blue balls, than any other man on this planet. It hurts like hell, too, this I can vouch for.
The mind is a curious thing Grace. The more I worried about not being able to come, the worse I got. Most men worry about premature ejaculation. I have to worry about the opposite, and trust me, the way it tortures the mind, and body, is just as bad. I’m so fucked up, you have no idea.” I saw colour flare in his cheeks again. “You’ve seen it. It happened with you, although, not as severe as I’m used to. With you, it’s different, you are different. You have made me feel more alive, than I have felt in a very long time. I knew the night in your home, with Alex, when I was able to come on you, that you were going to be my saviour, that you would reawaken me.”
“Oh Dante, my heart hurts for all you’ve suffered.” I whispered, aching for this poor, broken, damaged man. He’d been hurt so much and he was still hurting.
I don’t know why he held me in such high regard. It worried me a little, that he might expect too much of me, but I cared for him. In a very short time, I cared for him. Despite the exterior being so different to the boy from my past, Arnie was still inside. I could see that, and that’s why I guess, I’d had that feeling of familiarity when, around him.
He touched his thumb to my bottom lip, and began to caress it gently, his eyes on what he was doing.
“I’ve seen a shrink and I can be fixed, but it will take time. Just as I inadvertently programmed myself not to come, in my quest to be what women wanted, now I have to try and reverse the way my brain works.” He shot me a wry smile. “See? I’m fucked up cara, completely and utterly, fucked up.”
“You’re not fucked up Dante. You’ve come for me. I presume that’s why you stopped being a stud?”
He nodded. “I couldn’t take any more of it. I got tired of feeling like a performing seal. In the end, the money isn’t as appealing when there’s no enjoyment in the job. Hours of time spent bringing women to orgasm, over and over, until it’s time to leave, then go home and be stuck with a raging hard on, that I can’t get relief from. I’ve had more icy cold showers, than I care to remember.
For a man, sex is very important, or it usually is. Being a stud sucked the life out of me and turned sex into a chore. I want to enjoy it again; I want to be desperate and clambering for it again. I want the excitement back.”
“I can understand that. I’ve known a few men who will do anything they can, to get between a woman’s legs.” I shot him a grin. “I have certainly seen plenty of examples, of how important sex can be to a man.”
“I know cara, I’ve seen the men chase you, and I’ve had to watch you go home with them.”
“Did you look for me or something?”
“I always wondered how you were. I thought of you a lot Grace, even when I was in Italy. You were my friend, you were nice to me. You were the only friend I ever had, did you know that?”
I flopped back against the bed, at Dante’s words. We were both still on the floor, and a part of me wondered why we didn’t get up off the carpet, and get more comfortable.
I couldn’t believe all he was revealing to me. He was sweet, shy, morbidly obese Arnie from my childhood. Well, he was, years ago. Looking at him now, he looked nothing like that boy from my past, who had just wanted someone to love him, and want him.
Seeing the man he’d become, the massive physical transformation, it was hard to believe that this incredibly sexy man with a body made for sin, was once overweight.
The trouble was, his body had changed, but inside, he was still Arnie. Holy hell had his body changed. It was unbelievable to fathom how dramatically he’d changed.
It was crazy to think he could have any kind of emotional hang ups, or that he would suffer from self-esteem issues. With all the women he’d pleasured, it wouldn’t have been a surprise if he’d been egotistical, but he was far from that. If anything, he was a contradiction. Still shy, still insecure, but a stud, he’d been a stud, and knew everything it took, to bring a woman mind blowing pleasure. How could he be so confident in the bedroom, but not so much, when he was out of it?
His life had been such a sad one, and even now, he wasn’t entirely happy. His ability to function as a sexual, sensual man was damaged.
I felt guilty for not being there for him after the centre, which was crazy really, given I’d been thirteen years old, and struggling with my own issues. Maybe if the staff had encouraged the patients to have more interaction, to get to know one another better, if it had been more personal, then maybe I’d have made an effort to stay in touch afterwards.
Of course, it was easy to think like that now, but not all Dante’s life had been bad. The time in Italy had been a happy one for him, and a life changing one too. It was just sad; he’d lost the two people who loved him, a year apart of one another.
I stared at him as he sat, his gaze fixed blankly on the carpet. I still had so many questions for him. One being, what did he think would happen between us? Was he looking for a relationship? I really had no idea, but he was sweet with me, and he acted like a man who cared. He wasn’t using me for sex, I knew that much at least.
“What’s going through that beautiful head of yours cara? Are you ready to rush out the door now and never speak to me again?”
“No.” I shook my head at him. “Far from it actually, but I do have questions still.”
“You asked why I bought Dial A Stud? I’ll answer that question first. I bought it because when Alex and I decided we were done with being studs, the remaining few, weren’t bringing in enough business and it failed. I didn’t want people I’d worked with to be out of work. Sure, clients are given the talk about masks, and protecting the identity of the studs, as some have lives outside the job and yes, some do, but others rely entirely on Dial A Stud for their income. Alex and I bought it, although I put most of the money in to secure it. We’ve been slowly building it up to offer a wider range of services. We have men and women working for us, who can meet everyone’s sexual needs. Gay studs to serve men out there who want another man; women to sexually fulfil other women. We even get a lot of fantasies that involve two or more of our studs. You should know since you requested two. Sometimes people want
to experience an orgy, and several studs of both sexes will be involved. Sometimes it’s not even about the sex. It’s just someone wanting to spend time with one of the studs. It’s the client needing a companion, not for the sexual act. The business is doing much better now, we’re more diverse. The previous owner was only interested, in serving heterosexuals, but we try to offer studs, for all sexual fantasies, and sexual orientations.”
“So you and Alex are close then? He was the one, who insisted I come and speak to you. I was going to get your number off him and call you. He’s kind of protective of you. I got lectured on my intentions. He knows about your past I presume?”
“Alex has been like family to me. We shared a house for a while, when I first came to work for Dial A Stud. He helped me settle back in, to life in Australia. The reason he’s possibly protective of me, is his little sister, took her own life several years ago. She’d been bullied at school, and became very withdrawn. Despite her family desperately trying to find out what was wrong, it was too late. It was Alex who found her.”
“Oh my god, I had no idea.” I gasped. “Although it explains a lot, the way he was with me. He was very insistent I speak with you. It’s just as well too, since you were so sick when I arrived. You needed someone to care for you.”
“I do appreciate you taking the time to care for me cara. You do have an excellent bedside manner.” He shot a quick smile at me, and I found myself blushing, as I remembered the incredible sex we’d shared.
“So, my next question for you is, how did you find me? Did you look for me, or happen to come across me?”
“I would like to say, I spent years trying to track you down Grace. I thought of you a lot, but my life was in Italy, and it was for almost eight years, as I told you. By the time I came home, realised I wanted nothing to remind me of my old life, moved here, met Alex and became a stud, I had relegated you to my dark and distant memories. Then one night about a year ago, I saw this beautiful woman in the club I was at with Alex, and a couple of the other studs. She had a man chasing her, quite obviously wanting access to her panties. I looked at her, and thought she seemed familiar, but I wasn’t sure. It was you cara. Over so many months I watched you, trying to find out your name, but you were naughty weren’t you? You lied to men about who you were, you used a lot of men, or let them use you. I didn’t know for sure, but I had to find out, if you were my Barbie. I needed you alone, I needed to get closer to you, but you always had so many men, flocking around you, wanting you. I knew I couldn’t try my luck, at being a suitor for you though, as I was still a stud, and I would not expect any woman to be involved with me, while I was fucking other women, even if it was just a job.”
Dial a Stud: Dante's Story Page 18