This is a story that involves sex between males. if such a story is offensive, or illegal for you to read where you live, then do not continue, go and surf elsewhere.
This is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives of any specific person or persons. If there is any similarity to any real persons or events it is entirely coincidental.
The work is copyrighted (c) by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the specific written permission of the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written permission of the author.
My thanks to Brian who have read this through and made a number of corrections and suggestions. Any remaining errors, grammatical, spelling or historical or whatever are entirely my fault.
Inky White and I
Resume:- Inky White and Phil (the narrator) were school boy lovers. They have been out of contact for over 30years. Phil has a farmer friend in Devon, and Inky is married with two adult children. After making contact through the internet, Phil has travelled up to Northumberland to spend a few days with Inky.
Inky is talking:- "I did from time to time think about those days at school. The times with the other boys, with Godfrey and Adrian, and especially with you. But that seemed to be firmly in the past. It seemed just a passing phase, an adolescent passage, in parenthesis, in the story of my life. But as no doubt you realise, my dear Phil, life is not as simple as that. For a dozen or more years I saw myself as a totally straight man, and like many straight men with some incidents of homosexuality in my youth. But that all belonged to a bygone era. I loved Brenda, I still do in a way. She's been a wonderful wife. I have two wonderful children. Then almost imperturbably the old desires began to creep back."
Chapter 8
"Do you remember exactly how it all started up again?" I asked.
"I'm not sure how, or when, the old interest and desires began to surface. I've often tried to trace some incident that set things off again. I can remember one or two things that happened, but I am not sure in which order they happened. They all seemed insignificant at the time.
"I hadn't forgotten what we got up to in our school days. It was such a big and important part of my life for those years; you can't just forget. But as I've said they were all firmly in my past. Not forgotten, but dead."
Inky was silent for a while. "I suppose it was a like an Enid Blyton book, the Famous Five or whatever, a book which you read and re-read when you're a kid; but now you pick up, may even read a bit, but it totally fails to move or interest you. When ever I read anything about homosexuality, or saw anything about it on the box, it was like water off a duck's back. I knew I wasn't one of those. They were different from me."
"So, Inky, what were the things that may have set it off?"
"One was when Sharon and Simon were asking me about my school days. I remembered I still had those long photographs of the whole school. I dug them out, and asked them to find me. There was a photograph taken each year. They picked me out quite easily in the later ones: but took a lot longer to find me, when I was a smaller kid. Simon's a bright lad, he spotted that I was standing alongside the same boy in the last two photos. It was you. 'Who's that, Dad?' he asked. 'That's Phil Goodman, my best friend in those last couple of years at school. He was my best man, when your Mum and I were married.' 'Are you still in touch with him?' I told them, I had lost touch with you. They then went off to do something, the way kids do.
"I sat looking at the photographs, especially the last one. Remember that?"
"No, I don't remember the actual taking of that photograph. They're all blurred in my memory. Why?"
"I remember it well. You know how we were all packed as close together as was possible. The guys in front an inch or two away, same with the guy behind."
"I know, it was the same every time, what was so special about that last time?"
"You were on my right and had worked your left hand into my pocket."
I stopped walking there and then, and just looked at Inky. We were schoolboys together again, we both roared with laughter.
"So while the photograph was being taken I was playing with your cock?"
"And I had a mammoth hard on, if I remember correctly."
"You always got one when my hand was anywhere near."
"First, I looked to see whether there was anything that showed something was happening. I think there's a slight smirk on both our faces. Then I started looking at the other guys with whom we had done things. I traced them all, Nobby Clarke, Melrose, Irwin, Kay and Spud Edwards."
"Holdsworth and what's his name....Alloway."
"I'd forgotten those two."
"Happy days. I wonder what has happened to them all. I wonder how many ended up married like you, and if any are definitely gay like me?"
"I know Holdsworth got married, and had kids. I met Kaye once in London. We were passing in the street and recognised each other. He was as camp as you make it, a real fairy."
"But he was so quiet and respectable."
"He wasn't when I met him." Inky paused. "I know, I sat looking at those photographs and remembering. I think I even got a bit of a hard on thinking of what we had done."
"What else happened that stirred up the old desire in you?"
"Most of my work is in the office in the centre of Newcastle but occasionally I have to work away. One of our clients is Lord Morpeth. His family came from Morpeth, just north of Newcastle, but now he's in the stately home business, based in Cumbria. His business is efficiently run, but he likes me to go and check over the tax for both him personally and for the business. I can usually give some advice that they will find helpful."
"And profitable," I interrupted.
"Yes, that's why these people have accountants," answered Inky with a smirk. "We're the old family firm going back to when his grandfather ran a business in Morpeth. He likes me to go over, and spend at least one night over there. I am wined and dined, though not in the splendour of the official dining room, that the tourists see. When I went up to bed that night I opened my case and found I had not put in a book. Now, I always read before going to sleep these days."
"I thought it would be sex for you every night when you went to bed."
"Philip Goodman, will you stop making flippant wisecracks?"
"Sorry, Inky. Carry on."
"There was a small book case in the bed room, so I looked at what was there. There were the usual mixture, but one name caught my eye – Maugham. I thought that it was ages since I read any of Somerset Maugham's writings, so I put it on the bedside table, undressed and got into bed. I was surprised to find that it was not by Somerset Maugham, but by Robin Maugham. I think, if I had not been already in bed, I would have found another book. I am not sure whether the blurb said, or whether I later found out, Robin Maugham was the nephew of Somerset. The book was called Escape From The Shadows. I started to dip into it. I only wanted to read until I felt sleepy, when I would turn off the light. Then suddenly, I was wide awake, this book was an autobiography, and Robin Maugham was gay. This was the first time I had read such a book. There were clear descriptions of things he did when he was a young man, still at Eton, and just afterwards.
"I soon realised my cock was hard, very hard. I skim read the main story, savouring in every detail the descriptions and conversations involved with the sexual episodes. My hand went down onto my cock, and was playing with it. Then over one particularly graphic incident I felt the mounting climax. I hastily pulled aside the bed-clothes. I was just in time as I shot several loads of cum onto my chest. I had forgotten just how far and strongly I used to shoot."
"You didn't use to wank by yourself then?" I asked.
"I only wanked when Sharon or Simon were close to arrival, and just after. I didn't need to. Brenda was almost always up for it. I was very, very fortunate to be married to such a sexy, always willing, and wanting it wife. When I listened to what many other guys said, I realised just how lucky I was. I mopped myself up, and carried on reading. I think it was nearly three when I eventually put out the light.
"I took down details of the book and got a copy of it, and of its sequel Search For Nirvana. I think reading that book made me aware of the fact that there was still a potent homosexual part of me. What is more, that it was not far beneath the surface.
"I thought about that incident a lot, and what it was showing me. I think at that stage it was just showing how careful I must be, that I must not encourage that side of my being. I was not gay, I was a straight, happily married man. I loved Brenda, and did not want to put my marriage, and the relationship with my children, in jeopardy.
"The next thing that happened was with one of the bosses, He'd been very good to me, a great encourager and good advisor at times. He was always someone I could ask for help; who would not look down on me for asking something that I ought to have known. He was a family man, in his mid fifties, I think, at that time. He used to have a party at his home around Christmas time, when all the staff were invited, I think there were usually forty or fifty present. His family were usually all there, wife – Stephanie, a daughter and a couple of sons.
"One morning I went into his office, and he looked as though he had been pulled through a hedge backwards. He was just not quite his usual smart self. He was bleary eyed, as though he had gone without a good night's sleep. 'You look rough, Bruce', I said, 'Bad night?' 'You can say that again, I hardly slept a wink. Family problems! Sit down Inky, I must talk to someone. You are a bit younger than me, perhaps you understand this modern generation and their goings on. James came home yesterday from University. He's finished his first year, and is moving out of the Hall of Residence into some accommodation he has found. We were having our meal, and asking him about where he was going to live next year, when he came out with the bombshell. He's moving in with a man, some fifteen years older that he is, and he announced that we ought to know, - he has realised he is one of these homosexuals, and this older man is his lover.' Bruce looked at me."
"What did you say?"
"I think, I said something like, 'Quite a bombshell indeed.'
"Steph ( his wife) had burst into tears and rushed upstairs weeping. He had turned to James, 'Now see what you've done, upsetting your mother. You can't be a homosexual; we brought you up properly'. They had sat and talked about it all for a long while.
"Bruce isn't particularly religious, I think a carols at Christmas man. He was anti-gay, like so many of his generation and background. Middle class, Tory voting, strong prejudices. I don't think he had ever consciously met or talked with a gay man. To him they were all limp-wristed wets who buggered each other.
"I was rather bowled over by it all. Here was a man, a man I respected, one of my seniors in the firm, opening his heart to me about his son who had come out of the closet saying that he was gay. I was only too conscious, as I sat there, of my own re-awakening homosexual desires."
"Were you able to be of any help?"
"I think I ended up telling him he had a simple choice. He either had to accept the fact that his son was - one of these homosexuals -, as he put it, or lose his son. I remember him asking, 'Will I have to meet this lover of his?' 'I think James would be very pleased if you did.' 'But what if I don't like the man?' 'If James was bringing home a girl friend there is no guarantee that you'd like her, is there?' 'I suppose not, but I'd be wondering what they got up to together – in bed!' 'Would you be doing that if it was James with a girl?' 'No' there was a lengthy pause before he added, 'Well yes, maybe a little'.
"I think we all find it difficult to imagine our parents or our children having sex with another person, don't you, Phil?"
"I don't know about the children, not having been there; but I find it very difficult to imagine my parents having sex, yet they must have done, at least three times, or else my siblings and I wouldn't be here."
We both laughed.
"So what did this revelation of your boss do to you, Inky?"
"I found it very disturbing."
"How? In what way?"
"I remembered the last Christmas do back at that director's home. I easily pictured James. I found myself considering him as a fellow homosexual. I realised he was attractive, and I was sexually attracted to him. He has a lovely bum, Phil. I pictured his bum as he bent down to pick something up from the floor. He was wearing tight jeans, and his buttocks, wow!"
"That sounds more like my old friend. I bet you got a hard on."
"Not just once, but when ever I though about that incident in the boss's office, I would immediately switch to picturing James bending over."
"With the usual result." I laughed.
"I was finding this increasingly disturbing. Why was all this coming back to haunt me? I thought those old desires were dead and buried, and here they were coming back increasingly strongly to haunt and arouse me. Here was I, a happily married man, and I did love my wife; and yet here I was lusting after a young man who I'd met briefly at a party."
"Was it because you now knew he was gay?"
"I suppose so. It was not him that worried me, but what was going on inside me. I tried to squeeze it all out of my mind by working hard, and busy doing practical things when I was at home. Brenda commented on how I seemed to be working longer hours than usual, and not coming home and flopping down exhausted in a chair, which I usually did, but always finding something to do."
"Did you think of telling her what was going on?"
"No way. I was afraid once I said anything, I would have to tell her about our school day activities. I had only briefly mentioned that I had done something with boys at school. She must have thought she had succeeded in curing me! If she thought at all about that early remark. Our sex life was good then. Maybe not every night, nor to a regular pattern, say Saturday and Wednesday nights, as it is with some couples.
"I think the next year or so was difficult. The spell of hyper-activity lasted for about two months. This inner struggle made me rather depressed. Brenda picked that up, and suggested a doctor, or psychiatrist! There was no way I was going to spill the beans to our family doctor, or to a shrink. It was like an incoming tide. A wave of gay desire would break on the beach, and then pull back, there would be a pause for a few days even perhaps a couple of weeks, then the next wave came, stronger and reaching further up the beach. I almost felt I was being backed up against a cliff; I was being trapped by these waves of simply wanting it with a man.
"I began to look at men in a different way. Some, I looked at with the eyes of sexual assessment. He looks nice, he's attractive, I wouldn't turn him out of my bed. But I hadn't had a man, in or on my bed, since we were at school. You were one of the last, Phil; I think Godfrey was the very last. So long ago, but there was this longing in me. Sometimes I looked at men, or more often a group of men, and wonder if he or some of them were gay. The law of averages said it was likely there would be a gay man in a football team. I know, Phil, it doesn't work like that, but I found myself doing that. It was hell. I still loved Brenda. The very last thing I wanted was to cause distress to her and the children. Then slowly I began to change."
"How did you change?"
"I began to accept the fact that there was at least a large gay factor in my life."
"Did that help, or make matters worse?"
"It alleviated something of the mental pain and stress. The waves were still rolling in, but somehow they were gentler, more seductive. Does that sound strange to you?"
"I think I know what you mean. How long did that go on for?"
"Six months, perhaps a year. I didn't keep an account of my feelings in a diary. The desire for sex with a man was growing steadily stronger. I sometimes wanked in the shower, thinking of being with a lovely sexy man. Sometimes imagining I was back in my teenage years with you. I always felt bad after that, guilty, even perhaps dirty. I felt I was betraying Brenda. This went on until Manchester."
"Manchester, my old alma mater? So what happened?"
"Each year I went to a day conference in Manchester. It always started at 10.00 and to get there for that time meant an early start, being out before the streets are aired, whether I went by train or drove. So having done that once, I used to go down the afternoon before, and stay in a hotel. I would arrive early evening, have a meal in the hotel restaurant, and get a good night's sleep.
"I arrived in the early evening, and noticed when passing the hotel restaurant looked fairly full, so decided to go down a bit later. I settled into my room, which was a double room, nice facilities. I think, I watched television for a while. When I went down to the restaurant, it was not so busy. I think there were a couple of single men, and two couples there. They all looked as though they were nearing the end of their meals.
"A young waiter showed me to a table, and gave me the menu. He asked me what I wanted to drink, and also offered the information that in his opinion one particular starter was very good. He went off and soon returned with the drink I had ordered. I then ordered his recommendation for a starter, and also the main course. He went off.
"I like to read a book when I'm eating alone in a restaurant. If I haven't got something to read I tend to eat too quickly, and don't enjoy my food. I realised, I had forgotten to bring down my book. I caught the waiter's eye, and he came across. 'I've forgotten to bring down a book, is there an evening paper around which I could read?' He went off, and soon returned with a copy of the Manchester Evening Paper, and a copy of the Dalesman. 'I know this is the wrong side of the Pennines,' he said, 'but the Dalesman usually has some interesting articles in it.' I thanked him and started to read.
"He brought my starter, and was clearing the tables as the other diners left. The starter was good. I thanked him for his recommendation when He came to take my plate away. I seem to remember that we exchanged two or three sentences then.
"When he brought my main course I was the only person in the restaurant. The waiter had cleared and cleaned the tables. He did not re-lay them, no doubt because no more custom was expected at that time. One of the tables he cleared was close to mine, and we chatted some more. He was certainly a nice young man. He was very attentive and talkative. It was when he came to take away the plate from the main course that I realised he was flirting with me. I was flattered. I decided to respond. When he came to ask whether I wanted a pudding, we had quite a conversation. He asked where I was from. He told me he came from the other side of Manchester, but had staff accommodation at the hotel. There was a lot of eye contact, and exchanged smiles. I found it all very amusing. I think I was flattered that I was being chatted up by such an attractive young man. I am sure, he gave his arse a provocative wriggle, when he walked away from me.
"Eventually he came to ask if I would like coffee. I declined, saying that I would get a cup in my room, and watch some television. Then I was really naughty. 'I must then retire for the night to the loneliness of my double bed.' I must admit that I said this with abroad grin on my face. He smiled, 'Would Sir like some company, male company for the night?'
"Wow! Inky!"
"'Why, do you know someone?' I asked. He answered with an even broader grin on his face. 'I have a friend. Who I am sure would like to oblige. He's twenty two, five foot nine, eleven and a half stone, Six inches, uncut!' 'You certainly know your friends vital statistics very well. Do you think he would be interested in a male, aged thirty-six, five foot eleven, twelve stone, six and a quarter inches, cut?' I emphasised the extra quarter inch."
"Inky, you were as brazen as you ever were, you've grown no more circumspect with the passing of the years. You are as you were when you invited me to plunge my hand in your pocket!"
" It pays to be bold, Phil. 'I'm sure my friend would be very interested', he said, 'I know your room number, would about ten o'clock be all right for Sir?' We both chuckled, he raised his eyebrows and smiled, before going back to the kitchens. I went up to my room. Had a shower, put on a bath robe, and waited. I was surprised at my own boldness, but it was an opportunity too good to miss. I turned on the tele. and waited. I wondered how I would get on. I hadn't had any man to man sex for years, as you know. I was certain I would get a good hard on, truth to tell, that was why I started looking at the box, to try and take my mind off what was to come.
"It was a few minutes past ten when there was a knock on the door. I called out for him to come in. He was inside in a flash, obviously didn't want to be seen in the corridor outside. He was dressed in a very tight Tshirt, that hid nothing, certainly I could see his nipples, and very loose track suit trousers. I stood up and introduced myself. 'I'm usually called Inky, the explanation for that is rather long.' 'My name is Donald, usually called Don,' he replied.
"We looked at each other for a fleeting moment, and then moved together. Our arms went round each other and we held each other tight. I could tell that he had just showered. He kissed me, and I responded. 'I'm glad you like kissing,' he said. 'Why, is there some doubt?' 'Not all bi men like kissing for some reason.' 'Why do you think I'm bi?' I asked. He got hold of my left hand and felt my wedding ring. 'Because of that. You're married, aren't you?' 'Yes, is that a problem?' 'No. Definitely not, if you like kissing.' We resumed, but this time we were pressing our crotches into each other. I could feel his hard on in the track suit bottoms, and I am sure he could feel me."
"Equally hard?"
"Oh yes, Phil. You know me. I pulled up his Tshirt and rubbed his lower back, and then I pushed my hands down, he was not wearing any pants, and I gave his buttocks, which he had so enticingly wriggled when I was having me meal, a squeeze. 'Oh, I like that.' His hands undid the belt on the bath robe, so it fell open, and he got his hands to me, one holding my cock, and the other cupping my balls. It was my turn to make those appreciative noises. I then dropped down onto my knees, and pulled right down his track suit bottoms, and saw the six inch uncut tool that he had told me about. I kissed his cock and balls, before slipping it into my mouth. Again, he said how much he liked it. I could sense that he was getting more excited, and that before long he would be cumming in my mouth. But before he got to the point of irreversibility, he pulled me to my feet, and pushed me back toward the bed. He gave me a further push, so that the calves of my legs were hanging off the bed while the rest of me lay on my back. He now knelt down and began to give me a wonderful blowjob."
"What were you feeling about all this? It was some years since we had done things together, and you hadn't been with a man since."
"I had wondered if I would know what to do, it had been such a long while. I wondered if I would appear to be a complete amateur."
"I guess, it is rather like riding a bicycle, once learnt you never need to learn again."
"But there was a wonderful sense of home-coming. It all seemed so natural and right. This was the real me."
"How long were you both at it?"
"He knew when I was getting close to a climax, and he stopped, and got onto the bed beside me. We talked briefly, and then our hands were exploring. We turned face to face, and our cocks were together. He was gently stroking my back, while my hand explored his bum and what lay between his buttocks. I found his hole, and rubbed my finger over it, which he obviously enjoyed. So I pushed the tip of my finger into him. 'I like that, Inky, but I'd like something else to go in there.' 'My cock?, I asked. 'Yes, that lovely hard cock of yours, right in, to the last quarter of an inch.' We laughed. 'And how would you like it?' 'With me on my back, so I can watch your cock and face.' And that's what we did. We prepared ourselves, and my cock slid easily into him. I could tell I was certainly not the first, and would not be the last. I found it very difficult to keep control. It had been so long since I had done that to a man, and it felt so exciting to be doing it again, and so right. I had to keep still for a while, and think of something else."
"French irregular verbs or prime numbers?" I asked.
Inky laughed. "That's what we used to do, wasn't it. I think it was prime numbers. That did the trick, and I was able to get over that initial hurdle, and I gave him a really long, slow, hard fuck. He enjoyed every moment of it. And do you know, in spite of being out of practice, I got us to cum together. My load was deposited deep inside him, and his shot out all over his chest and stomach. I kept my cock inside him until it softened, and he gave a squeeze and it slipped out. We lay together for a while getting our breath back. Then we had a shower together. I thought he would go then, but no, he was up for more. He got back on the bed, and I joined him.
"We lay together talking. He told me his story, and I told him all about our school days, yes, especially your hand in my pocket. I told him about Brenda, and the mounting gay thoughts and desires that I was experiencing. 'What do you feel now?' he asked. 'I enjoyed that. I feel as though I've come home. I'm now, more than ever, sure that man to man is what is really me.' 'What are you going to do about it?' he asked. 'I just don't know.'
"We talked for quite a while, and then we started again. This time he fucked me. Phil, he was damned good at it. He'd had a lot of experience. It was another very long and very satisfactory fuck. I think it was nearly one o'clock when we stopped. Again, I thought he'd go, but after another shower we settled down for the night. I think it must have been about four when I woke to feel his cock pressing into me. I let him in, and he gave me another very relaxed and satisfying screw. I think I fell asleep afterwards, with his cock still in me.
"I seemed to remember him giving me a kiss, before getting out of bed. When I woke, about seven thirty the bed was empty. He was on breakfast duty with a waitress. She served me. I managed to have a quick word with him, before leaving."
"Did you ever see Donald again?"
"No."
XXXX Jeffrey Fletcher on jeffyrks@gmail.com