Being born in the late 40's has some big disadvantages but definitely some interesting sides which Carlo Prati experienced with the years.
When you are 18 years old and you are in the 1963, you can see the industrial boom exploding in your home country, everything changes and the wealth arriving even in the big popular condominium where you live.
His father bought the first car in that year; it was a little one, 'Utilitaria' was the definition of the type of that machine and effectively was nothing fancy but still, it had four wheel, four seats and it gave you the joy of a ride to the lakes on the Sundays.
Carlo was living with his family in a two bedrooms apartment, he was forced to share his room with the grandmother, a woman with a strong character who took care of the daughter by herself after the separation from the husband.
It was unusual in Italy during the 40's be a separated woman, divorce wasn't allowed and the Carlo's grandma had taken the decision after years spent with a man addicted to the women, gambling and especially alcohol; She was coming from a family where the father was an alcoholic himself, beating the wife and mistreating the daughter, therefore running away was the only way to build a decent life.
The relationship with the 68 years old woman wasn't easy for Carlo as well. He had just started to stay out a little bit later in the night, his mom wasn't complaining too much and his father was definitely more permissive.
The biggest problem was the grandma. He could be silent as a thief when coming back at midnight, maximum time allowed anyway, but she was always awake, waiting for his return and ready for a formal complain toward the poor boy.
'You don't have any respect for the other people living in this house', was the classical beginning of the discussion. 'You should be ashamed of your behavior, how can you be sharp at school when you act like this', those words were the same even if it was Saturday.
Carlo was used to this daily sermon but still he was always experiencing a uncomfortable feeling.
The Prati's family included a little dog, the favorite of the matronly woman. He was a happy puppy, jumping and barking, always ready for a walking in the park.
The father had brought back from a friend of him living in the countryside when Carlo was 13 but the dog wasn't grown too much, still a short legs, with a rusty colored furry body.
As almost all the teenagers, the boy wasn't paying too many attentions to him apart from some particular occasions.
The parents of Carlo were both working and his grandmother was in charge for all the house, something she probably loved to do but even something which she was always ready to complain about.
She never missed the opportunity to express at the 'husband of her daughter' her disappointment for his low interest in the family's affairs and the fact that take care of Carlo was a big duty.
The life in this matriarcal democracy had modified some mental structures in Carlo's mind.
He was a healthy man, 6' tall, broad shoulders and chest (of course coming from the mother's side as proudly his nanny used to say), handsome and with a full developed manhood; He had the opportunity to verify his over-average dimension during the post-training shower sessions at school, he wasn't exceptionally gifted but endowed with a thick and long penis, uncommon through his comrades.
During those years, it wasn't easy to have physical encounters with the girls, apart from some petting.
At that time, the biggest sexual relationship was with your right hand in the bathroom, occasionally supported by a black and white 'over-18 man only' magazine, where the maximum expression of the nudity was a female bare chest but always on legs clad in stockings with garters.
That was the hot spot for Carlo, he loved nylons and female feet and he used to climax fantasizing on those black or tan-brown shiny stockings.
There were just two points on his sex scoreboard and the most recent one was only a easy penalty kick.
Carlo met this girl at the hotel on the Italian sea-coast where he used to spend all the summers with his family.
She was from Germany, Mannheim, as for her girl friend accommodated in the same hotel. He and his friend Osvaldo took some time before to find the courage to speak with them.
Actually, the families were probably the thread allowing the meeting.
They began to go out together, on the beach during the day and for an ice cream in the evenings. She wasn't exactly a top model but, for a 16 years old boy, that was the best he could find.
During those years, the beach huts were still made of wood and the only other recreation of Carlo was to spy on the women changing their clothes in them. There were holes in the dividing walls, in some cases more than in a slice of swiss cheese, and through them it was possible to peep the occupant of the adjacent cabin.
It could happen to fall upon some nice girl but Carlo was already developing his Gerontophiliatic fetishism.
He was sexually aroused by a significantly older woman and, as soon as an over 50 years old female was entering the other cabin, his remarkable dick was quickly growing in the swimsuit.
The furtive and unclear sight through the hole of those saggy breasts, flaccid bellies and gray bushes was making him beat his meat feverishly until a liberating ejaculation was erupting on the planks of the shelter.
The occasion for his first interpersonal contact with a representative of the opposite sex was on a trip by pedal boat. The German girl expressed the desire to get a ride on one of them and Carlo was the other cyclist.
They reached the open sea, where you see the beach umbrellas like little matches and the people is indistinct.
The girl bent on him and smacked a kiss on his lips, he answered happy, the mouths opened and the tongues interweave.
Carlo put a hand on the little breasts of the girl who didn't make any effort to escape from the touch. His male organ was throbbing and, unconsciously, he took her hand to put it on his penis. The girl moved the hand inside the elastic belt of his swimsuit, she lowered it and grabbed the shaft of his cock.
Carlo acted in the same way, putting his hand in her bikini's pants and sliding a finger in her bush. She moaned and pushed his finger inside the slid of her womanhood. He tickled her clitoris and she stroke the dick, faster as fast he was masturbating her until Carlo felt his testicles tightening and a big flow of sperm spurted all over his belly and her hand.
As all the summer stories, they wrote each other some letters during the following Winter until eventually they got bored and the words 'The End' was shown on the screen.
The second shagging time of Carlo was his first complete copulation and, as very often was happening during the 60's, it was with a prostitute.
He had a friend of a couple of years older and licensed to drive the 'business car' of the father which was nothing more than a little engine car with a presumptuous trunk defined as a wagon.
They were four of them, strolling around the city streets making fun of the tarts walking along the boulevards in order to show the merchandise to the possible customers.
It was already four years since the "Legge Merlin", the law which abrogated brothels in 1959, had brought all the prostitutes on the street, a place where now it was allowed to practice the "world's oldest profession".
One of the favorite activities of the youth was, and it is still even now, drive cars, scooters or bicycles in those areas and express appreciation, opinions and comments about the ladies of the night.
This was something in the middle between spending time laughing with your friends and evaluation of financial resources for a possible investment in five minutes of pleasure.
That night all the group was horny for sex, they were very attentive to the girls, the comments were less sarcastic and you could feel a particular atmosphere.
