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introduction…
    Jacomo is still in Ragusa, so my days are free. Mamma acts as my go-between and soon the deal is done. Signor Ramberti requires me to wear men’s attire, as I expected. I know what’s in store for me and I can’t help quivering at the prospect.
    He comes for dinner. Mamma has ordered Anna to prepare a meal fit for a merchant prince: an antipasto of prosciutto of pork tongue served with radishes carved into flowers; salads; ravioli with fresh tomato and basil; roast suckling pig and rice pie; almonds in syrup to finish. I take care to eat my food sensuously, and lick my fingers seductively. Signor Ramberti can barely take his gaze off me.
    When Mamma leaves us on our own I sit myself on his lap and feed him grapes, one by one, hooking my fingers around his tongue as I pop them into his mouth. I can feel his erection against my arse. I wriggle my buttocks then nuzzle him behind the ear.
    He lets out a groan and clamps his mouth on mine. I open up to him, wide, my lips swelling with the hotness of unexpected desire. He’s enjoying me so much that I’m responding and my pearl throbs.
    I rise from his lap. ‘Pray sir, shall I read you one of my poems?’
    ‘You write? How wonderful! By all means. I shall enjoy a reading. But first, let me taste the poetry of your body. You will like what I’m about to do to you, I promise.’
    Hmm. ‘And you will like what I’m about to do to you.’ I hope.
    I unlace his cod then lower myself to my knees between his legs. A quick glance up into his eyes as my tongue darts out to taste the tip of his prick.
    Signor Ramberti places his hands on the back of my neck and urges me closer. ‘Oh, yes!’
    Curling my fist around the base of his prick, I work my tongue up and down its length, coating it with in my saliva. With my other hand, I reach down to cup and massage his testicles. A warm drop of liquid escapes him and I swipe my tongue against his tip, capturing the bead of salty fluid to swallow it down.
    ‘Keep going,’ he pants.
    I ease open my mouth and suck him in. Warmth and moisture flood my figa. His hand tightens in my hair, causing my scalp to tingle. He pulls away from my mouth; saliva dribbles down my chin. ‘You know what I want now?’
    I nod and point to the jar of goose fat Mamma has left on the table.
    ‘Good.’
    He hands me the pot and I rub the ointment onto his prick with deft stokes. He lifts my chin. ‘Haven’t you forgotten something?’
    I shake my head and he laughs. ‘You’re still dressed. Come here, boy!’
    He unlaces my codpiece, pulls down my breeches then my hose. My top-half clearly doesn’t interest him. Gently, he bends me over. ‘Your arse is so beautiful.’
    First, he inserts a finger, then two. I wince, but the feeling is not unpleasant. Now the nub of his prick is pushing at my culo. Signor Ramberti is an arse-rider and what we’re doing could have us burnt. The state inquisitors hate sodomy more than any of the other sins. No one will know, I hope. ’Tis between me and Signor Ramberti; he has paid me handsomely for it.
    It hurts, God how it hurts. I yelp.
    ‘Relax, boy,’ he says.
    I’m trying. Tears escape and I wipe them away with the backs of my hands. Signor Ramberti is holding onto my hips, grinding into me. Now it’s not hurting anymore. Now I’m nudging my arse back at him. Now I’m reaching down to my nub and rubbing it.
    ‘So good, so good, so good,’ he says. ‘A culo hot and tight. Ripe for fucking.’
    His body jerks and his prick spasms inside me. I can feel his wetness mixing with mine.
    ‘Did I please you, Signor Ramberti?’
    ‘Pray, call me Ludovico. Your arse is delightful. I shall partake of it again when you’ve read me one of your poems.’
    Mamma has left a bowl of water by the window. I bring it to him and sponge his flaccid prick with a cloth. Some of Ludovico’s seed has found its way into my figa and I give myself a good wash.
    The parchment is by my bed. I pick it up and start to