He wore only a Bermudas. No shirt and nothing inside the Bermuda. That Bermuda also in velvet cloth red and yellow strips. His entire body gleamed in ...ull moon day. Hiding my wishes I tried to sleep. A desire cropped in my mind, just too at least touch his skin some where in his body. With full fear I tendered touched his elbow. He did not show any objections. I too had gained some guts and my desire guided me not to take the finger. I proceed to touch his bare chest very cautiously. Slowly. Strangely, 'correctness' is essential to Italians when it comes to unimportant things. Now we are following the twists and turns as the road snakes up the mountain. Marco drives ever so well, and he never takes risks when I am with him. At the very top of the mountain is the pass. There's a bar there, and inside, there are ancient, faded pictures of men in mountaineering costumes posing outside the self-same bar.We both have un caffe and a glass of Prosecco. Then it's back on the road, and. More

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