Roman Conquests (1971) by Samuel Steward writing as Phil Andros.

For the main article on the Phil Andros Novels and Stories, click here.

Phil is vacationing in Rome, expenses paid by a sugar daddy, Bertie Messer, who plans to meet up with him later. The action all takes place in one city this time, but the sex is equally prolific. First, there’s the staff member at the Keats museum beside the Spanish Steps where Keats died. Phil, betraying Samuel Steward’s own erudition, is a surprising scholar of English literature. Phil and Alistair make love on the bed Keats died in. Then there’s a hustler Phil picks up on the Spanish steps with a trip to the baths, followed by a construction worker, a military policeman in the bathroom of the train station, and then a city policeman, a metropolitano, (Phil and Samuel Steward both, I suppose, have a thing for cops). Chapter 5, Phil meets a man at the Trevi Fountain who we will return to later. He’s clearly meant to be Leonard Bernstein. Here’s how he’s described: “Half the people in America knew that name–the leading American symphony conductor and composer” (p. 60). First there’s a redux with the hustler, who tries to rob Phil but Phil catches him. Then the scene with Bernstein, called “Duke”, at Bernstein’s hotel, the Excelsior. Sex at the Colosseum at midnight in the moonlight (shades of Daisy Miller). Sex with another hustler, who does succeed in robbing poor Phil. Then the construction worker, again. Sex with the caretaker at the cemetery where Keats is buried – they do it on the grave and then again at the caretaker’s cabin. Then the caretaker one more time, back at Phil’s pensione. Then the metropolitano, again, who returns Phil’s stolen watch because the cops arrested the hustler who stole it and Phil’s cop recognized Phil’s name inscribed on the back. And then it’s time for Phil to move on, but his sugar daddy isn’t able to join him and just sends money instead. The novel ends with Phil at the train station unsure where to go next, when who should appear but “Duke”, the Bernstein character. They have this exchange, which makes the reference to Bernstein explicit to anyone in the know:
“Where are you going?”
I shook my head. “I really don’t know,” I said. “I just heard yesterday that the guy I’m supposed to meet can’t make it. So I’m footloose–“
“… and fancy-free, I suppose,” (p. 153)