The Interpreter

Monaco August 1976

It all seems so long ago now. I’m now in my mid-seventies now, but I just cannot forget something that happened to me back in 1976. Although I am British, because of family connections I lived in the south of Switzerland in the predominantly Italian speaking canton or district of Ticino. My father was Swiss-Italian and my mother English. I had lived in Switzerland since I was seven years old and consequently spoke French, German Italian and of course English. I have no idea why I had this multi-lingual gift – it was something that I had accepted as being natural. I also am fluent in Spanish, Swedish, Portuguese and can get by with a little Hungarian.

I was sent away when we moved from England to Switzerland to the International School in a small city on the linguistic border of French and German to a boarding school where it was dull and uninteresting, even in the 1950’s. I know some guys would get off about a young boy at a private school and sexual adventures, but I can assure you that nothing happened. Sorry guys. I had to get by in two new languages French and German.

My sexual awakening came when I had graduated from school in 1966 and gained a place at University in Geneva where I studied languages and linguistics.  I became friendly with a fellow student from West Germany also on my course named Gunther, which developed into an off-and-on sexual relationship. This was my sexual awakening. Gunther was very tall. 1.9 metre, had a good body though not muscled like many of have now, had eyes that brightened considerably when talking about and witnessing sex, and had a dick to match his height; he was huge.

After graduation from University I was encouraged by Gunther go try to go into international broadcasting.   I found a part-time position with the Swiss International Radio Service as a researcher and occasional broadcaster working on the totally uninteresting topics of “News of the Swiss Confederation”, “The Political Views of Swiss Political Parties”, and “The Importance of Swiss Neutrality in the Cold War”and so on. All extremely boring and I had to research these topics and present a monthly programme in French, German, Italian and English AND make my scripts available to the other presenters who spoke Spanish, Arabic, and Russian. (Poor bastards).  My radio work supplemented my income but I had to fit it in with my other interpreting work, but I was constantly busy and had a great income. A lot of work with the UN and it’s agencies and sometimes travel as well.

One of the delights I had was as the youngest presenter on the international radio channel was to have a weekly show to play the popular music of the nation and to interview some of the national ‘pop’ stars of Switzerland (Yawn) but also international star’s from around Europe, mostly done via links provided by national postal services as it was done in those days.

Somehow, and I’m not too sure why, I had been noticed by a producer in Lugano, The Swiss Italian area of the nation and asked if I’d be Interested being the presenter in a multi-national Radio programme that introduced the (it sounds so old and dull now) top pop record of the month for Italy and the Swiss Italian speaking region. The previous presenter from Lugano had got bored with the job and they were looking for someone different and new. It meant I would have to travel once a month from home in Geneva to Lugano to present my six or seven-minute segment and to record my links to the other nations presenters and popular music from their country and add my comments and links. Wonderful. I did my bit, listened to the other records from around all parts of Europe and translated the Introductions of the other European presenters into Italian and made a monthly two-hour programme for presentation on RSI- the Swiss Italian Radio service.  I also got to see my parents once a month - what else could I wish for?

My biggest surprise was that the whole international programme was being organised by West German Radio in Cologne and that the producer was my old friend and sometime university fuck-pal, Gunther. He’d come up in the world, and so once a month, I was talking to him via the European Radio links, though not in a private capacity.

The major revelation came when I learned that once a year, in August, all the producers and presenters of the “Music from all Europe” or “Musica di tutta Europa” as we called it in Lugano, came together in one location to discuss Presentation, Technical issues, especially between Eastern, Western and the “neutral” nations of Europe and for the presenters such as myself. It was great to actually see the voices that I had spoken to and listened too and whose words of explanation of their national popular music was presented across Europe. The Programme was a great bond between all the differing parts of the political divide of Europe as defined in the title’s “tutti Europa” (all Europe).

My first year of the annual gathering took place in of all places, Monaco. I had never been there and the Radio Station there was tiny but wanted to point out that it was totally different to it’s overwhelmingly larger but snooty neighbour France, whose national Radio Station didn’t take part in the European embrace of popular music.

Radio Monte Carlo went all out to welcome everyone. We were staying in the most opulent hotels, being chauffeured in wonderful vehicles to and from our hotels to the Radio Studio’s and to wherever we wanted to travel to. Needless to say the Eastern Europeans were very suspicious of the motives but it didn’t stop them from using all the facilities made available to them especially the champagne.

It was a five-day extravaganza. The Monegasques went over the top, most probably just to annoy the previous year’s hosts, the Bulgarians, who somehow hadn’t turned up this year and had dropped out of the musical exchange.

The first obligatory event was a formal gathering at the hotel for us all to meet. There must have been over a hundred dignitaries present all, speaking multiple languages.  I had moved around the room, introducing myself to the other delegates, many of whom expressed their surprise at my youth.  I had an excellent talk with the Irish presenter, a woman who was also a Professor of European languages at the University of Dublin, and the Polish presenter who was constantly way too drunk but admitted to me that he hated his governments system, but he also admired my linguistic skills.

Eventually Gunther made his way too me. He apologised for ignoring me and asked if I was comfortable. I told him I was fine, and he looked around the room and told me there were two people I would be happy and interested to meet. Across the room he guided me to two men of very different ages.

“Andrete molto d'accordo con questi signori” he told me (You will be fine these men).

He introduced the older of the men first.

“Questo è Alexander, il nostro presentatore austriaco di Vienna” (Our Austrian presenter from Vienna, Alexander)

The very presentable, dapper man in his mid-fifties took my hand and gently shook it and slightly bowed.

“E questo è Åke, il nostro bel esperto di tutte le questioni musicali dalla Svezia. (This Is Åke our Swedish musical expert).  Gunther added very silently, “stai molto attento a lui, ti toglierà i vestiti in un secondo. (Careful, he’ll have you naked in a second).

I looked over at the Swede and was impressed.  He was the sort of man that I’d enjoy in bed, and for a long time. Tall and very Nordic, with striking straw coloured hair, almost yellow, with a very straight fringe cut just above his very blond eyebrows. He had dark blue amusing eyes, the likes of which I never seen before that highlighted his very handsome face. He looked like he was in his early thirties. I had heard his voice on the links many times but never pictured him like the guy in front of me. I recalled Gunther’s words to me, ‘naked in a second’. Yes please I thought.

I spoke with the men getting to know them a little better and explaining my history to them. It was very obvious that the two men knew and had a respect of each other. Alexander was old enough to remember the Second World War – he had married to protect himself from the authorities because he was secretly gay. His wife knew all the time and truly loved him even though she knew about Alexanders tendencies, she wanted to protect him. I warmed instantly to Alexander though sexually I wasn’t attracted to him. I felt a deep affection to him and wanted to comprehend what it would have been like to have lived in Vienna under the Nazi’s as a gay man and having to hide his true self to just be able to live.

Åke was mainly a sports journalist on Swedish Radio and like myself had slipped into this amazing and different European broadcasting phenomenon. Immediately on being introduced his Nordic eyes widened and I was interested in him but not about Swedish popular music.  Gunther had warned me that Åke would want get me naked, and instantly, I wanted him naked too. The man was fit, and he had the charm in bucketful’s, and he threw all his attention on me in an instant.

He firstly explained that he didn’t speak Italian, but he spoke to me in English and expressed surprise that I also spoke Swedish.

“So you are the new voice from Italy. I do so love that accent of yours and the clarity in which you speak, and your English is absolutely perfect. Italian is such a wonderful language and so expressive and Italian popular music! Well to be honest it’s the best in Europe, such music, such harmony, and the lyrics! You are so fortunate to be presenting the best of European music. But you don’t present in Swedish?”.

I was trying to protest that I wasn’t the Italian presenter but the Swiss Italian presenter, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He wouldn’t hear of it and he had grabbed hold of my arm and was guiding me away from Alexander, who was too polite to say anything, towards the exit from the reception, and telling me that I really must give him some Italian language lessons and that things must change so I could include Swedish in the programmes presentation. As we left the other guests I noticed Gunther looking at me with non-committal eyes and holding out his hand with his fingers crossed.

As soon as we got back to his rooms, he had me in a clinch, kissing me deeply as he pushed me against the wall. This I wanted very much, but I wasn’t wanting this to be one sided. I used my weight like that of an Alpine skier, to push Åke off of me and twist him around so that I could push him against the wall, and kiss him as well as using a leg to force apart his legs and push my knee in between and get my hard crutch against what I already knew was his hard cock, grinding my groin against his and forcing my tongue half way down his willing throat.

“Wow you Italians are so passionate love makers”. He gasped when I let go of his head.

“Schweizisk Italiensk, Mycket förolämpande”. I told him in his own language, “It’s just as insulting to call a French-speaking Belgian, a Frenchman”.  I pushed against his package harder to enforce the message.

“Make love to me in Italian”. He was now begging. “I want to hear those words in that beautiful language of yours”.

I considered this for a moment. I could use this to my advantage recalling Gunther’s words to me that Åke would have me naked in a second.

Stepping back from him, releasing him from the wall, I ordered him to strip, naked immediately. “Diventa completamente nudo, ora”! Emphasising the last word deliberately. He looked at me incomprehensively. “Nudo, nudo”! and again loudly “Ora”. He clicked at the word ‘nudo’ and was removing his clothes as fast as he could.

Oh yes, he had a decent body. Smooth, clean and free of marking and scars and when he pulled down his trousers and underwear, his cock bounced into the air. He had a decent cock, thick at about seven inches and uncut, and a decent set of balls with a light covering of dark yellow pubic hair. He maintained his attractiveness even when naked.

He was now breathing hard, with excitement I thought. I had won the first round by getting him naked before myself. I walked up to him firstly sniff at his neck deeply. Yes he had the smell of a man aroused; he wanted this. I stroked his chest, it was flat but not unattractive, there were some makings of abdominals and there was no beer belly, and his cock, was almost groaning with the effort to be totally erect.

Using my finger in the air, pointing downwards and indicating with a twirl of my finger for him to turn around saying in Italian for him to do so. “Giravolta”.

The Swede turned about and I saw his rear. He had a very generous butt too. Round two came to mind instantly. Pushing him forward and downwards I told him to bend over. “Piegarsi”.

He bent over exposing a very decent hole, free of hair and looking fairly tight from what I could see. Round two also to me. This was going to make a decent report to Gunther when next we met.

“Bene” I called out and pulled the swede upright and took a hold of his cock and balls. They were weighty and warm and there was just a slight leakage of pre-come from his cock tip. Yes he was enjoying this manhandling from me. I let go of his genitals, and pulled his hands up to my shirt and ordered him to unbutton. Again he had no idea what I was saying but the look into his eyes and his hands at my chest must have given him a clue as to what to do. With quick nervous hands he undid the shirt allowing it to fall back onto the floor. He gasped at my body. In Swedish he told me “Beautiful Amber colour” and he stroked my chest, but I hadn’t ordered it and I quickly brushed his hands away.

He groaned in disappointment, and I gave him, as requested a mouthful of Italian that must have sounded like a litany of complaints but was actually a description as to what I wanted us to do together. When I finished my ‘diatribe’ he was looking down to the floor as if in shame which, giving that I knew exactly what I said made me want to laugh out loud, but I stifled that urge.

Round three to me – Yes!

I was wondering to myself what I could do next with the Swede. Domination and Submission was something I had never done before and there was really no equipment to use in the hotel room. Ordering the guy around was the most I was going to get to do and he seemed to be enjoying it, at least at the sight of his erection he was. Well, if I was going to get to fuck him I’d at least want him to be clean, so I ordered him in Italian, Unfortunately the word for shower and to douche in Italian are the same, so in order to clean himself internally I used the French which he seemed to understand, and I pushed him into the lavish hotel bathroom. I heard him in the shower as I stripped off the remainder of my clothing, intending to shower after him.

After about ten minutes or so he came out from the shower with the towel around his shoulders looking very cocky and very eyes wide open when he saw my nakedness. I pushed him onto the bed offhandedly and told him to wait for me a little more forcibly. As I showered I became more and more excited about fucking the Swede and also wondered that Gunther had told him about me. The two of them must have had relations before for Gunther to be able to be careful of the man and his desires. I was determined that he was not going to be fucking me. I was determined that I was going to be the top out of the two of us. In my head, I practiced the Swedish for keeping your hands to yourself. “Håll dina händer för dig själv”.

I turned off the shower and dried myself and wrapped the extra-large and very soft towel around my waist and strolled into the bedroom. Åke had removed the towel and was lying on the bed stroking himself. I approached him and pulled his hand away from his cock reproaching him in Italian. If he was expecting Italian to be romantic in bed he was in for a surprise. It’s the way you say the words rather than the words meaning. It’s like French; French is actually the most un-romantic language in the World in my opinion. A Frenchman can utter all the words in his languages’ limited vocabulary, and for all it means he could be saying, “I have a brand new pencil box”. And “Look inside there is a new and unused eraser in there”. English is the language for love making, because in the right head and mouth it has the most expressive vocab in the world. However Åke asked for Italian, and oh boy, was he ever going to get it like it or not.

I had decided that he was not going to touch himself, even after I had shot my load, showered and left him. After removing his hand from his dick, I grabbed hold of his chin hard and looked into his eyes and forcibly told him that he was going to suck my cock. I pulled him down onto the floor onto his knees with my cock in front of his face. I pinched his nose so that he had to open his mouth and pushed my hardness into his mouth. He gagged slightly and tried to push me away but I hit his face gently and told him to leave me alone. I stayed above him fucking his face for some time, pulling my cock out of his mouth for a while and hitting his cheeks and nose with it and when he stuck his tongue out, hitting it harder. Again he was trying to wank his cock and I was not having it. Again I forced his hands away telling him louder that I would tell him when he could touch himself. He whimpered.

Again he got a loud mouthful in Italian, reminding him that he wanted me to talk to him in my language and I was doing so and to stop complaining. OK he wanted the romantic whispering, but I had decided that romanticism was out and some forceful domination was required.

I turned him over his large butt in the air, and I took both of his hands and made him grasp them together. I wished I had something to tie them together but under the circumstances. As he took my cock into his mouth again I reached down and spanked his backside. He winced slightly but kept up his appreciation of my cock with his mouth and tongue. So I decided to spank him harder. This time he gave out a slight yelp but his sucking continued. I reached over and spanked his other arse cheek and again he yelped and kept up his oral love of my cock. I began to wonder just how much pain he could take and how I could inflict it on him. I had never done anything like this to another guy. As I spanked him some more and he sucked on me I contemplated what I could do. One thing was very certain, I was not going to let him touch his cock or let him shoot unless he could come without touching himself. I almost threw him off the bed onto the floor and made him kneel in front of me, again his hands behind his back and offered him my cock to suck and my balls to lick, telling him forcefully that if he tried to hurt me then I would slap him hard. To demonstrate this I raised my hand high in the air above his face. His blue eyes showed understanding as did his very erect cock now leaking copiously.

He licked and sucked at my cock and balls worshiping them as a dutiful sub should do and it was pleasing me a lot. I reached down below his head towards his chest and used my thumb and large finders to flick his nipples hard. The first time I did it the shock of the sensation made him jump slightly and I did it some more and he winced each time I hit them sharply. I soon changed tactics and started to pinch and rub his nipples, gently at first and then harder and harder eventually pulling at the with great force and lifting the teats well away from his chest stretching the skin and then using my finger nails against them hard to introduce some pain to the organs.

He gasped hard, drew breath in deeply at times but never once did he release his arms or stop his worship of my cock. I turned around and positioned my backside to his face and bent over. Immediately I felt his hands on my arse cheeks and I stood up abruptly and faced him. He looked up at me. He knew what he had done wrong and his hands went behind his back.  I pointed my finger at him and told him that if he did it again I’d slap him hard. To emphasise the point I raised the back of my hand up in the air. His head went down again. I leaned over again for him to eat me again, this time he had to push his face into me to gain access. He was good but I wasn’t going to tell him that. Trying my hardest not to laugh, I was shouting at him to eat it deeper and harder and to take longer licks, and he not understanding me was now shaking his head inside my cheeks to try to lick me further and deeper.

This was enjoyable and I was having fun but I wasn’t really dominating the man, so I pushed him onto the floor, lying on his back and made him put his hands behind his dead and I sat down on his face for him to eat me from that position. I could use my weight against his face. I also had access to his nipples and cock and balls again and so I resumed my hand torture of them both, he was writhing underneath me but not calling out in pain. Then I had an idea. I stood up and ordered him to stay where he was and went into the bathroom and yes, there was what I was looking for. I picked up the object and returned to the Swede and sat on his face again. I took hold of his cock holding it vertically in the palm of my left hand and used the object roughly on the under glans of his cock. It was his toothbrush. The effect was instantaneous. He was now really writhing about under me. I slapped his buttocks really hard and told him to be a man and not a boy. So far he had accepted everything I had done to him but the toothbrush treatment strongly applied to the tip of his cock was very different. He was now whimpering as he thrashed about. I continued my vocal onslaught in Italian, calling him all the cowardly names under the sun that I could think of. He wanted my love making in Italian and he was getting it. I even threw in Gunther’s name for good measure. I knew they had a thing going, if I knew Gunther of old.

I reached down to the Swede’s balls and gripped them tight and gave them the toothbrush treatment. To give Åke his due, he kept up a good job rimming my hole. I soon got bored with the toothbrush routine and went back to my fingers thumbs and nails on his nips and cock.

When I was satisfied that I had treated him well I let him get up and bent him over the bed face down. My mind raced for the Swedish for lubricant. It was not a word I would generally have used in conversation or even in translation. I didn’t want to spend time trying to get him to understand the Italian word.  Out of the back of my mind came “Smörjmedel”. He laughed slightly and received a huge smack on his backside for impudence. I’d obviously used the wrong word or got my common or neuter gender incorrect. Never mind. I let him get his supply of KY Gel and pushed him back down onto the bed and lubed his hole and my cock. Later, thinking about it I should have used his toothbrush to lube up his hole. I spread his legs wide apart exposing his hairless hole pushed my cock into his butthole which slid into him easily, finding little resistance. He gave a gasp of pleasure and to remind him that I was in charge I pulled his arms back and gripped them firmly behind his back as I fucked him hard. I was loving his hole as it gripped my cock, There was only a slight resistance inside his tunnel and he was giving out moans of pleasure so I must have been hitting his button. Each time he asked if he could jack himself off I spanked him. The more he asked, the harder I spanked him, and each time his anal grip on my cock got a bit tighter. He asked me in English, begging to be allowed to wank himself for which he received a double spanking and a verbal warning in his desired language of love.

He turned his head sideways and I could just see his handsome face and his blue eyes. His yellow, blond hair excited me immensely and I grasped his wrists hard and lifted his body off the bed. This increased his hold of my cock inside of his hole and he was able to turn his head more towards me. I deliberately licked my lips so he could see me and narrowed my eyes to show my determination. My balls tightened. I was going to shoot – but would I shoot inside of him or humiliate him further by shooting all over his body.  It was an easy answer.

I felt my sperm leave my balls and pulled out of his hole in one movement. I was still holding him up using my right hand and so couldn’t grab hold of my cock to wank myself off. So my cock spewed out my come hands free, and it sprayed all over his backside and back, my dick throbbing in the air. The Swede could still see my cock and he gave out a huge moan of delight. When I came to rest, I rolled him over onto his back with his hands still underneath him. His cock was totally rigid and his eyes were lustrous with delight. I had one more thing to do to satisfy myself. I sat up on his chest my cock right above his face, still dripping with my sperm. I lifted his head up by pulling at his hair and thrust my wet cock down his mouth.

Making cooing noises of appreciation he sucked on my cock using his tongue to clean up my hard dick. I gently slapped his face as he slurped on my tool, and I spoke to him gently in Italian, in more romantic tones that he was a great fuck and for him to taste my come and his arse juices from my satisfied cock. My tone had changed and so did the look of satisfaction on his face. I stood up pulling out my cock from his mouth and he tried to follow my cock to keep on sucking it, but I told him in Swedish “Rör dig inte”. Don’t fucking move.

He had still not touched himself as I hadn’t permitted it. He was still slumped against the bed naked and covered with my cum. I hadn’t shot a load like that ever at least not hands free. I’d showered and dressed. I wished I had the means to tie him up and leave him naked in bondage unable to move and to leave his room door open for people to see him. He seemed to like humiliation. I walked to his door opened it wide and just said “Mille Grazie” and strolled down the corridor to my room. It was just after one in the morning. I hadn’t eaten since the snacks at the earlier get together and I was hungry.  I picked up the phone and ordered blini’s, soft goat’s cheese, caviar and a bottle of champagne.

Twenty minutes later, there was a tap at my door and I opened to have a stunningly good looking waiter roll in a trolley with my orders, and he proceeded to prepare the table and to open the champagne for me and pour out the first glass. He was dark, tall, fit, young, good looking and desirable. I asked where he was from and he told me Sardinia. When I spoke in Italian to him he smiled broadly and replied in a hard Sardinian accent. He asked if there was anything else he could personally help me with. I told him yes, there were two things. Not only had I noticed the waiter’s good looks but also his shapely body and the impressive bulge in his tight fitting black trousers.

I asked first if he could put the food and drink onto the bill of Åke’s room. The Swedish man was a very close friend, I told he sexy waiter. He nodded his head slightly sideways at me. Secondly I had a slight pain in my shoulder, a lie but I’d heard of it being used as an excuse before, and could he massage the area for me. His reaction was perfect, his eyes meeting mine in a comprehending gesture. He walked to me standing to one side of me and began rubbing my shoulder, his groin deliberately rubbing against my arm. I put my hand up across my chest to hold his hand in place and looked up at him. He was looking down at me smiling with his lips apart and his tongue licking his perfect teeth.

He excused himself and backed away. He explained that he had to return the trolley back to the kitchen but that he could return to the room in about thirty minutes if I so desired. I was so hard again, even after my exertions with Åke. Yes, I would be very pleased if he would return. He wheeled out the trolley and looked back at me with a big grin on his face. As the door shut, I knew he would return. I took a couple of gulps of the very chilled champagne, saluting Åke for the generosity he knew nothing about – further humiliation if he wanted it and made myself a couple of blini’s with the cheese and caviar and headed to the shower once again.

After a very quick clean I dried myself thoroughly and put on the white towelled gown as provided by the hotel and sat down to a further blini and a fresh glass of champagne. Sure enough, very soon afterwards there was a gentle tap on the door and there was my super sexy Sardinian waiter, anxiously looking down the corridor and slipping into my room, putting out the DO NOT DISTURB notice on the door and putting on the security chain across the door.

“Call the reception and ask for an alarm call for Seven thirty”. He asked of me. By eight o’clock there will be too many people around who will know me and would be suspicious if I was here later”. I followed his advice and he relaxed. I offered him some champagne and we toasted each other. “For fun”. I called out and he almost giggled. My towelled gown came off and he swiftly removed his clothes. He was just as stunning naked as he was clothed.

For the next two hours, we made heavy romantic love, giving and receiving in equal measure worshiping, caressing, kissing each other in passionate delight both of us expressing ourselves in Italian, the way that Åke would have wanted and some wonderful fucking.

The next day my producer and I were talking to our hosts which included the very charming and bubbly hostess/presenter from RMC, and the Portuguese delegation in French about the roles and times of out presentation later in the day and we were asked if we could give an impression of Monte Carlo and Monaco for the local audience.

Across the hall, I noticed Åke and Gunther talking together with the Swede, very happy and playfully punching Gunther’s arm many, many times as they both looked across at me. The Austrian, Alexander was also watching them intently a rueful look on his face and he looked across at me but quickly averted his gaze when he saw I was looking at him.  My producer had been called to a meeting of all the production team and Gunther left Åke alone. The Portuguese presenter and I were approached by the very charming British lady with perfect Italian, and the Hungarian presenter with the deepest of voices, who had cheered up immensely because Budapest had been chosen to be the host of next year’s annual get together; Something to look forward to.

That afternoon, I was due to be in the Studio of RMC to record my impressions of the tiny country and my initial thoughts of the International Radio programme I was now a part of. The Monegasque lady was an absolute delight and put me at ease. We had a block of fifteen minutes to record it all which included re-recordings in case of slip up’s.  Through the glass window, I could see my producer, the RMC producer, Gunther who was the co-ordinator of the international radio extravaganza and Åke who it seems was following my presentation. I was following the Portuguese lady at the microphone and she recorded an introduction to me in Portuguese. I entered the studio and took the place of the lady, checked my script and we did a sound balance. Over the headphones Gunther asked me to say a couple of words of thanks to the Portuguese lady; simple enough. I could see the easily recognisable yellow hair of Åke smiling at me. I decided to be professional and ignore him as attracted as I was to him. Then I heard Gunther’s voice telling me in French that the tape was running, the record I was playing was ready and to give him the signal of my finger pointing down when the record should be played.

There was a three second countdown and we were off. I described my thoughts of Monte Carlo and of meeting the other presenters for the first time. I kept my liaison with Åke right out of my description. Then I was asked to introduce the Italian record of the year.

It’s not easy speaking in four languages one after another almost without a pause. I had heard that some were talking in six or seven languages and one guy actually in eight. My four seemed trivial.

I spoke in Italian first. Talking about the two important popular music festivals in Europe that interested Italian audiences. San Remo and the Eurovision festivals and the Italian and Swiss entries to the competitions. But the song I was to play was undoubtedly the most popular within Italy and in Ticino. Ancora Tu by Lucio Battisti.

There was a pause, for editing, and I repeated what I had just said in French, German and English. There was supposed to be a pause before I gave the signal for the disc to be played but I continued must to everyone’s surprise; In Swedish. After I had finished, giving the Swedish translation of ‘Ancora Tu’ as ‘Du Igen’, I raised and dropped my finger for the music to be played. If Åke had been listening to me in English, German and French, all of which I knew he spoke then he’s know what Ancora Tu meant. “You again”.

I had two final recordings to do. Firstly to record and sentence of introduction in Italian to say a greeting, who I was, and which radio station I was broadcasting from and where I was. Easy enough as I had all that prepared for me by my producer and to record an Introduction to Åke in Italian as the presenter following me when the edited programme had been put together by Gunther.

When I had finished I noticed Åke was not in the production booth but I had a big grin and the thumbs up from Gunther who waved me into the room. I passed the Swede in the double doors between the studio and production suite. He tried to grab me, but I told him in Swedish. “Håll dina händer för dig själv”. Keep your hands to yourself.

In the control room, Gunther took off his headphones and took me to one side. He told me I was brilliant and asked why I had included Swedish in my presentation; “they won’t use it”. He told me. “Let’s see” I replied. He then asked if we could meet that night after dinner. I knew what that was for. Old times and a reminder of when we used to be together more often at University I shouldn’t wonder, but there was another I really wanted to meet again that night; a sexy romantic lover from a Mediterranean Island.

And we did – All Night long and well into the next morning.