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.
This work is copyrighted 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 John who has read this through for any details that me need explanation for transatlantic, or non UK readers, and made several corrections. Any remaining errors, grammatical, spelling historical or whatever are entirely my fault.
If you wish to comment on the story then do contact me on Jeffyrks@hotmail.com. I aim to reply to all messages.
A TALE OF TWO ENGLISHMEN. PART TWO
This story is dedicated to Ron, who lives in an English village, and whose chance remark while we were chatting gave me the idea for this tale. The story bears absolutely no resemblance to his relationship with J. Neither Ron or J identify in any way with either of the two main characters.
Resume:- Malcolm and Simon are two gay men in their 60s who live in a homophobic English village. They have met, but they carefully conceal their sexual orientation from each other. Both have been thinking over their own personal sexual stories
Part 2.
It was a couple of months before Simon and Malcolm met again. They did not meet at church over Easter, though Janice got Mal to join him to make one of his rare appearances at the Anglican Church in the village. Pat and Si were at church, and were more regular worshippers than either Malcolm or Janice, but they were Roman Catholics, and worshipped at a Church in Luton.
Their next meeting was on the first Saturday in May. It was a bright warm sunny afternoon, which made you think that summer had already arrived.
Simon said he was going for a walk. Pat immediately knew where he was going, but that would be of no interest to her.
He walked along the village street and up a short lane to the ground where the village cricket team played. He had read a notice in the village Post Office announcing that the first fixture of the new season was to be played at home that Saturday afternoon. It was an attractive village cricket ground, typical of many in the Home Counties. On one side there were some magnificent beech trees, that provided shade for spectators, if and when the sun was hot. These were still in their lighter spring green, not yet turned to the darker green of the height of summer. There was a freshly painted white pavilion, and even a separate score board, that housed the two scorers, as well as the usual village boys who put up the scores for all to see. On that spring afternoon the grass was bright green, and freshly mown.
As Simon approached the ground he heard that sound that delights the ears of every true Englishman, the sound of willow striking leather. It was immediately followed by the sound of the few spectators clapping. The batsman must have hit a boundary.
Simon stood and began to watch the match. The scoreboard told him the visitors were batting. He looked round the fielding side, and reckoned he could identify three or four of the players. He must have stood there watching for about twenty minutes before he heard a voice behind him.
"I didn't know you were interested in cricket."
Simon immediately recognised the voice of Malcolm.
"Are you interested as well?" Simon asked.
"Yes. Used to play in my younger days."
"So did I."
"I thought you were a tennis man?"
"My main love has always been cricket. Tennis has the advantage that you can play when you're older. It only takes two to play, whereas for cricket you need twenty two. That's much more difficult to find. Who' s the fast bowler at this end?"
"That's young Dave Smith. Works at the garage. Why?"
"I reckon he'd get more wickets if he'd try to bowl a little slower and possibly a little shorter, he'd probably be more accurate then. Like too many young fast bowlers he relies too much on pace."
"Were you a bowler then?"
"Yea. Spinner, not a speed merchant. What about you, Mal?"
"I was a batsman. Though I did keep wicket for a time."
They stood watching the game for an hour and a half, continuing to pass their critical comments on all the players. They clapped the good shot, and the good ball. Eventually the visitors were all out for 167. As the fielding side came off the field, one of the players came across to Mal.
"Good to see you Mal. All support is a help. What did you think of young Dave Smith? He's pretty fast isn't he?"
"Yes. But let me introduce you to Simon. Simon let me introduce you to Ian. Ian you want to ask Simon about the bowling. He used to bowl for his club side."
Simon and the cricketer shook hands.
"Well, what did you think of him?"
"He's certainly fast. But I reckon he needs to concentrate on length and accuracy. The batsman did not have to play about a third of the balls he bowled. And if he bowled slightly shorter he'd get the batsman in two minds as to whether play forward or back."
"I think you may be right. I'll pass that on to him."
"Who's the spin bowler, the one with the floppy blond hair?"
"Oh, he's Mike Thompson. He comes from Henton." [the neighbouring village]
"A foreigner then?" said Malcolm, with a slight laugh.
"You could certainly say that. But he's one of those!"
"What do you mean?" asked Simon.
"You know one of the limp wristed, Nancy boy brigade."
"Oh!" said Malcolm and Simon together.
"He's got a nice action," added Simon.
I suppose so," added Ian. "Anyway good to see you both."
He went off towards the pavilion. Si and Mal did not say anything to each other after that item of gossip. They decided not to stay and watch the home side bat, and so began to make their way back towards the village.
"I've got a ticket for the second day of the Lord's Test against Zimbabwe," said Mal.
"So have I." said Si with surprise.
"Let's go up together. Pity we'll have separate seats, though. But it'll be good to have company on the journey."
So on Friday the nineteenth of May they made their way to that Mecca of English, if not World, cricket: Lord's Cricket Ground in St John's Wood, London. Mal said he would drive the first part of the journey, and they could go on the tube [See note 1 at end] the rest of the way.
"Parking in London is such a nightmare. And if the truth be told, I don't like driving in London unless I am very sure of the way."
Simon smiled as he knew his way about London having lived in Finchley for so many years. He was even more surprised when Mal drove to Cockfosters station and they caught the underground from there. It involved a change at Kings Cross and a short walk from Baker Street.
Their talk on the journey was largely about cricket. Games they had played in and Test and County matches they had watched. Simon's proud boast was that as a young boy he had been taken by his father to Lord's and seen the great Don Bradman bat. [See note 2 at end] At the entrance to Lords they parted, and went to their different seats.
At the end of play they met up again and began the journey back to Whitgest. They discussed the day's play, the main feature of which was a 62 by Graeme Hick.
"We must do this again," said Malcolm.
"Well then, let's go to the Oval Test. Shall I get some tickets?"
They got out of the tube train at Cockfosters.
"Strange name for a place, that," said Mal.
"What? Cockfosters? Yea, I suppose it is. I wonder what sort of cock it's referring to?"
Mal laughed. "Well I suppose that's uncertain here, but I always feel sorry for people living in that Cumbrian town, Cockermouth!"
They both laughed. But both realised that the conversation was beginning to get dangerous. There was a short silence.
"Are you going to watch any of the village match tomorrow?" asked Simon.
"I always try to give it a look in."
They often met watching the village cricket together. A friendship began to grow. They then started going along to village pub and having a couple of pints together mid week.
"You seem to be making quite a friend of Simon," said Janice one evening.
"I suppose I am," replied Malcolm.
"Good! You need some men friends in the village. Shall I ask Simon and Patricia round for a meal?"
"Yes, that would be good."
"On one condition; no talking cricket."
"You women!" protested Mal. "We'll have to talk computers then," he muttered under his breath.
So towards the end of June both couples spent an enjoyable evening together. When the women started talking Women's Institute matters, Mal and Simon retreated to Mal's den, where Mal showed Simon a new computer game he had bought, they were able to talk.
"How are you finding retirement, Mal?"
Malcolm paused before answering. "I find it difficult to say. I am glad in many ways to be finished with the compulsions of work. Having to get up early, be here and there at a certain time. Having to do this and that. Yet strangely enough I seem to have less freedom. I can't be off on my own, do the things that I used to like doing on my own. Its not that Janice decides everything. But I find we have to do things together in a way that we didn't have to when I was working. Its not that she spies on me, but I just don't feel as free."
Simon nodded. "It's strange. You look forward to retirement. But it is difficult for Pat as well as me. She has me around most of the day, in a way that never happened previously in all the years of our married life. I think she feels I get under her feet. I think it is every bit as hard for her as it is for me. It is not just having to do this and that for her. It is also having to do this and that with her. I seem to know where she is and what she is doing twenty four hours a day. And she knows the same about me. I feel a bit of a toad saying all that."
"We've got lots of friends. But they're all couples. Like you and Pat. Though with most of the men of the couple we don't have time to ourselves, like we have watching cricket or in the pub of an evening. I think you're now the nearest I've got to a man friend."
"I had one or two man friends when I lived in Finchley, but somehow I've fast lost contact with them. You cannot arrange to meet when you live twenty miles or more away, in the way you can when you're just round the corner. I am finding I am missing men only company. Couple company is not the same at all."
In all this conversation there was an unspoken hankering after something more than the special friendship that could not be mentioned.
<<<>>>
Later that evening when Simon was in bed he pondered over a question that he had often considered. It was a question often put to him by some of those friends who shared his sexual preferences. Why had he got married? And why had he stayed married?
Again his memory went back to those teenage years. That first experience with his uncle had been when he was fourteen. It was nearly three years before the next chapter in his sexual story. He had thought a great deal about what had happened that Christmas. It was a warm memory. He knew he would like to have more of the same, but he was hesitant about making a first move.
Then late one August, when he was just seventeen new people moved into the house next door. They had one son, Nigel. He was just a few months older that Simon. He was a complete extrovert. He had bright ginger hair, green eyes, and a small retrousse nose, which still had a few freckles on it, unlike his
younger days when they had covered his face.
It was a humid summer day and they met over the garden fence.
"Hi there?" called the boy from next door. "I'm Nigel, come to live here."
"I'm Simon. I saw the removal van outside a couple of days ago."
"Yes. My old man gets moved around a lot. Been living in Birmingham. Much better down here. Do you go to the Boy's Grammar School?"
"Yes."
"Good I'll be going there when term starts. Come round and tell me all about it."
Simon went round and spent a while answering a host of questions from Nigel. Then they got out a football and started kicking it around on the lawn. After a while they collapsed on the lawn. Nigel went into the house and fetched some drinks , and they continued talking.
"I don't know about you but I need a bath," said Nigel. Showers in those days were only rarely to be found in private houses.
"Yes, I am a bit sweaty after kicking that ball around."
"Come on in, and lets have a bath."
"What about your parents?"
"Oh they're at work, won't be home until late afternoon. Come on, let's have a bath."
"What together?" said Simon, rather surprised at this turn of events.
"Why not? We'd shower together at school. You're not shy are you?"
"No, I suppose not."
Nigel jumped to his feet. "Come on then." He pulled Simon to his feet, and led the way into the house.
Simon was still uncertain, and followed slowly. Nigel went into the bathroom, and started to run the bath.
"Come on there. Have you got something to hide."
As Simon went into the bathroom, Nigel was already getting undressed. Simon followed more slowly. When he was naked, Nigel stepped into the bath, and sat with his back to the taps, leaving Simon the more comfortable end. Simon stole a look at Nigel's equipment. It looked half hard and was surrounded by a mass of ginger hair. When he was undressed Simon got into the bath. They adjusted their legs, finding the most comfortable position was to have their ankles at the waist of each other.
"Bit of a squash, but once you get your legs sorted out it's quite comfy; and we can continue to talk."
It occurred to Simon that Nigel had probably done this before.
"You're not shy about seeing me and me seeing you, are you?" said Nigel.
"No, not at all. I just haven't done this before," said Simon.
"There's always a first time." Nigel cupped his balls with one hand, and took hold of his cock with the other. "I don't like letting this fella be idle for too long. I like to toss off two or three times each day. What about you?"
"Much the same," said Simon, and he felt his cock stir, as he watched Nigel and spoke about what he did alone.
"You've got a nice one there," said Nigel, and he reached forward and took Simon's cock in his hand. Immediately Simon's cock hardened. "He seems to like some attention. Have you ever done anything with another guy?"
"Once, over Christmas with an uncle."
"Uncle and cousins lead many of us astray," said with Nigel with a laugh. "Did you like it?"
"Yes, I did. Very much."
"Good. I like doing it with another guy." His cock was now sticking proudly above the water. "Don't be shy, hold mine."
Simon reached and held Nigel.
"You said you did it over Christmas. It was more than once then?"
Simon told Nigel what had happened.
"And you haven't done it with anyone since?"
"No."
"Didn't you want to?"
"Yes. But I didn't know how to go about it. Or who with. I think I was afraid of landing myself in trouble."
Nigel's hand then began to feel round Simon's balls.
"You like me doing that, don't you. Shall we dry ourselves and get on the bed and do it properly?"
"Yea. Why not?"
They both stood up. Their cocks sticking out hard and straight. Nigel put his arm round Simon, and pressed their wet bodies together. He kissed Simon on the lips, after a momen's hesitation Simon responded. They stood in the bath enjoying the closeness to each other, and then as if by mutual consent, they got out of the bath and dried themselves.
Nigel led the way into his bedroom, and Simon followed admiring the other's teenage bottom. Nigel threw himself on to the bed, and lay on his back. Simon climbed along side. They cuddled and kissed. Both could feel the other's cock agai nst him.
When Simon moved away, Nigel bent over and started sucking Simon's cock. It did not take long for him to unload into Nigel's mouth. When he had recovered Simon did the same to Nigel.
Nigel's hand and fingers began exploring Simon's bum.
"Do you like that?" asked Nigel.
"Yea, I do."
"Have you ever had a cock up there?"
"No. Have you?"
"Yes. Many times."
"Doesn't it hurt?"
"Sometimes, a bit the first few times. Depends how slowly and gently the guy putting his cock in goes at it."
"And it feels good?"
"Yes. I'd like to have your cock up me."
"Would you really?"
"You game for it?"
"If you are." said Simon
Nigel got out of the bed and went to the bathroom and came back with a lubricant of some sort.
"If I grease my arse, and you grease your cock, it will help a lot."
Nigel lay on his back, and pulled his knees up towards his chest, so his arse was off the bed, inviting Simon to enter. Simon got into position and slowly pushed. He was surprised how easily he entered. Nigel moved his legs onto Simon's shoulders. Simon moved his cock in and out. Sometimes he looked at Nigel's face, and saw just how much he was enjoying it. At other times he looked past Nigel's cock and balls and watched his own cock thrusting in and out. He was a little longer this time before he reached his climax. Eventually he shot his load into his new friend.
"Enjoy that, Si?"
"I should say. Any time."
"Can I do it to you?"
"If you're careful."
"I'll be careful. Lie on your front."
Simon obeyed. He felt Nigel's fingers feeling round his arse. He liked it. Then he felt some cold cream or oil, and Nigel's finger began to move.
"Relax, and enjoy it, Si."
Nigel worked one finger in.
"Like that?"
"Yea," came the muffled voice of Simon from the pillow. After several minutes he felt a second finger join the other within him. Nigel continued to move his fingers slowly and gently. More lubricant was applied. Then after quite a long while a third finger forced its way in. This hurt a bit, but whenever Simon began to tense up, Nigel slowed down. More lubricant was applied.
"Get on all fours," ordered Nigel.
Simon moved, while Nigel kept his fingers moving the whole time. Nigel moved himself into position. He removed his fingers, and placed his cock at Simon's entrance. He slowly pushed, and slowly he entered.
"You alright?" asked Nigel. "Like it."
"Yea. It's great. It didn't hurt too much."
"That's because I took plenty of time in doing it."
That first session took some two and a half hours. Nigel was one of the those young men who could not get enough sex. Any time, any where, with any man, any how, was his motto. As Simon lived just next door, he was the most readily available. Not that Simon minded. He enjoyed every minute of it. He knew that Nigel was active elsewhere. But for himself he had yet to venture further afield.
That further step came in the New Year. Just before Christmas, when they were lying together after a full session of love making together, Nigel announced that his parents were going away for a few days in the New Year, and leaving him behind.
"I think I'll need some company at night. Will your parents allow you to sleep over with me."
"Sure," said Simon with a broad grin. "A night together! To wake up together. Plenty of sex."
"Yea. Plenty of sex. I am planning a party, a special party."
"Who with?"
"Some you will know, some you may not know."
"Special in what way?"
"Just you wait and see," said Nigel, leaning over and giving Simon a kiss.
Nigel's parents were away for three nights, and the party was arranged for the middle night. Simon's parents were more than happy for the two lads to be spending time together. They liked Nigel, as did everyone who encountered his lively personality. For the previous twenty four hours Simon had tried to quiz Nigel about the party, but the answers he got were always cryptic. Some basic food had been bought, and a limited quan tity of beer.
"This is not to be one of those drunken orgies, where everyone tends to end up throwing up" remarked Nigel.
There were six others at the party. All were about the same age. Several Simon knew from school, but three were from elsewhere. When all were there, Nigel stood up.
"I want to welcome you all to this party. It is going to be a special party; and I am pretty sure that you will all enjoy it. Those of you who don't know everyone, will I am sure, know everyone very well, very soon. I am in a privileged position with all of you. I know you all well, very well. You all know me, that I have a mole on my right hip, and my ginger hair is also to be found surrounding my uncut cock." There were some sniggers at this. "As you all like having naked fun with me, I am sure you will all like having naked fun all together. If you don't, now is the time to leave." He paused for a moment, no one stirred. "So we have to get ready for the party to begin. I have here a dice." He produced a large wooden dice. "We will take turns in throwing it, and if and when anyone throws a six, that person must remove one article of clothing. We continue throwing the dice until just one person is left with something on, and that person must keep those clothes on for the rest of the evening. Any questions?"
There was some slightly embarrassed laughter from the others there.
Nigel started by rolling the dice. Slowly, as sixes were thrown, items of clothing were removed. Eventually all were naked except for one guy who had a pair of socks on. When he had looked like being the last man and still had three items of clothes on, he had conveniently thrown a six, and removed his pants.
"Now for the first game. Sardines. I have left one low light on the stairs for safety sake, the rest of the house is in darkness. I am going to hide somewhere. The first person to find me, must get as close to me as sardines in a tin, and so we carry on until we are all packed together like sardines. "
"What happens if I get a hard on?" said one guy.
"I'll toss you off," replied another.
They all laughed.
Nigel went to the door. "Count to a hundred and the last one out of here turns off the light."
Simon was about the fourth person to find Nigel. He and three others were crammed into the small space in one of the bedrooms, between a wardrobe and a wall. Eventually they all squeezed into the confined space. The last few guys found easily found where Nigel had gone, as there was a lot of suppressed g iggling, followed by others saying `hush'.
The last person then had to go off and hide, while the seven in the toilet counted up to a hundred. By the third time the game was played it was obvious that any remaining shyness had long gone. There was a great deal of groping, and feeling of each other, even when passing in the dark.
"I think the ice is now broken," said Nigel. "You can do what you like. There is some food in the kitchen, and a couple of pints of beer each. I will put on a few lights downstairs, upstairs will be dark. Enjoy yourselves lads."
Simon remembered the first part of the night as a hectic round of sexual encounters. Some were fleeting, a quick grope here, and a hasty kiss there. Others were longer. He lost count of the number of times he shot his load. About two o'clock in the morning the house became quieter. One or two were fast asleep, and others just entwined in another's arms.
It was purely by chance that Simon and another boy entered a downstairs room together. Both were shattered by all they had been doing over the last few hours.
"What a party?" said Simon.
"I should say. I need some rest." replied the other boy.
They collapsed on to a couch. So began one of the most significant relationships of Simon's life. Though they went to the same school they did not really know each other at all well. Simon was in the science section of the sixth form, and the other boy was in the Arts form.
As they both flopped exhausted on to the couch, Simon put an arm round the other lad, mainly because it was that sort of party.
"I didn't know just how exhausting sex was?" said the other lad.
They snuggled up together. "But it was fun!"
"Yes, great fun. I didn't know you were into all this. I have seen you around school, and also at church?"
"Yea. I go to Our Lady's too. I've seen you there."
"Do you confess this to Father Simon?"
"You must be joking! Do you then?"
"No way!" They laughed.
They talked together briefly and soon drifted off to sleep, with their arms and legs around each other.
It was still dark outside, and the light from the hall dimly shone into the room they were in. They both began to stir. Thy looked at each other and grinned.
"I don't even know your name," said Simon.
"Chris. And yours?"
"Simon. Who would have thought we would spend a night in each others arms and not even know each others' names."
"Well, we've now introduced ourselves to each other."
As they lay there, both became conscious of their nakedness. Simon began to fondle Chris's ear lobes, while Chris stroked Simon's knee. Both actions caused an immediate response. Both felt the other's cock stir.
They began to examine each other more carefully. Simon saw a lad of his own age, just seventeen. He had a light brown hair, which was certainly dishevelled after the night's activities. It never was tidy anyway. There was a small patch of hair growing in the middle of Chris's chest, but totally unconnected to the hair growing around the base of his cock. Chris's penis was beginning to harden. It was uncircumcised, not particularly long, but certainly thick. The damp head was beginning to appear. Simon reached down to hold it.
And what did Chris see? In those days Simon was very thin. He had straight fair hair. He looked quite boney. There were no hairs on his chest. There never would be. He was now quite proud of the abundance of his pubic hair. His cock was cut. It was slightly longer than Chris's, but definitely not thicker. Chris reached across and held Simon's cock.
Slowly their heads drew close, and they gave each other a very chaste kiss.
Then Simon's hand moved up and felt Chris's nipples. These soon hardened.
"Your tits harden nicely?"
"I know. I like that. That was something Nigel showed me."
"I think he has shown us a lot of things," said Simon.
They began to talk. They shared their first experiences. They shared their first encounters with Nigel. Their hands continued to roam. Simon started to feel Chris's buttocks.
"I like that."
So Simon continued, slowly push his fingers a little further into the crack with each movement of his hands. Chris adjusted his position to give Simon an easier and fuller access. They kissed again. This time their tongues made contact with the other 's lips.
Chris now reached down and began to feel Simon's balls. It was now Simon's turn to move, and open his legs. Chris held Simon's balls.
"You've got a couple of big ones there."
"Think so. They were in full production last night. Let me feel yours."
Both boys found their hands continuing to explore the other's body. Their cocks became fully erect. Their kisses became more passionate. This whole process which takes such a short while to describe, took the best part of an hour to accomplish. They were both getting highly aroused. They were enjoying each other. They were both moving towards a desired climax, but neither wanted to hasten the climax.
Then they were interrupted by the light in the room being switched on, as Nigel's face came round the door. "Now then you love birds, there's bacon and eggs ready for breakfast now."
There was no way they could continue. The spell had been broken. They disentangled themselves, got off the couch, and stumbled towards the door. Both of them realised that sex had not only made them tired, it had also made them hungry.
Two days later Chris rang to ask Simon if they could meet. They went for a walk in the park that afternoon. It was bitterly cold, with a north east wind blowing through them. They talked and talked as they made their lonely way past the frozen pond, and frost covered bushes.
"Pity we haven't got anywhere really private where we can go, and you know..." said Chris.
"Just what I was thinking. I was sorry we were so rudely interrupted when we were on that couch at Nigel's."
"I could've killed him. Tactless clumsy brute. Fancy interrupting a couple of guys getting off together."
"I know. But I could do with some `getting off together' now."
"I know, so could I. I think I know where we could go," said Chris.
"Where?"
"School. There'd be no one there at this time of an afternoon in the school holidays. And I know a way in."
They made their way to the school. It was in total darkness. A broken window in the boiler house gave them access. The cold struck them as something solid, as the heating had been off since the end of term. They cuddled and kissed. Then gave each other a blow job. It was too cold to expose more than the absolute essential amount of flesh.
That winter term of 1957 saw the friendship between Simon and Chris grow. It was not that Simon ceased to see Nigel, on a couple of occasions they even had a threesome. Nigel soon realised what was happening, and was amused and pleased that he had brought the two of them together.
"I'm a sort of matchmaker," he said.
"You're not upset in any way?"
"No way. There are plenty of guys to play around with. No problem."
Simon's relationship with Chris was totally different from that with Nigel. They talked, discussed and argued together. They started going up to London visiting the sites, and even the Art Galleries, and then arguing about the paintings on the way home. They differed over politics so the `You've never had it so good,' mentality of the MacMillan Government was argued over. As the weather began to improve they went out walking or cycling together. The Essex and Hertfordshire countryside was explored. When the weather was bad they spent hours playing chess together. The fact that they were in different forms at school enriched the friendship. Chris talked to Simon about History and Poetry, and began to broaden his horizons. Simon did the same for Chris with matters scientific and mathematical. But there were two other matters that brought them together. They both were enthusiastic about cricket, and were looking forward to the beginning of the season. And even more important they were both Roman Catholics and attended the same church. This brought the complete approval of the friendship from both families. Simon's parents liked Nigel, as everyone who met his sunny outgoing personality liked him. But he and his family made no Christian profession. But with Chris it was different. They not only attended church, they were Catholics too. Various theological and ethical issues were discussed at length.
From a sexual point of view things were not so easy for Chris and Simon, as they were for anyone involved with Nigel. Both of Nigel's parents went out to work, so he was frequently in the house alone. He could count on nearly two hours at home alone each working day, before his parents returned from work. For Simon and Chris it was difficult, though not impossible. Their mothers did not go out to work, and there were brothers and sisters around as well. But they found places to go to. There was a small shed at the bottom of Simon's garden where garden tools and deck chairs were kept. In the winter months it was not entered from week's end to another. The trouble was that the path down to it could be seen from windows in Simon's home. Unknown to Nigel they found a way through at the back, across the back of Nigel's garden, and then by making a hole in the fence they were able to get through to the shed unseen. It was often cold, but it was better than nothing. Then there were those wonderful occasions, few and far between, when they had one or other house to themselves. They made full use of it.
It was in the Easter holidays that they first discussed their relationship. They were sitting on a tree trunk in Epping Forest. They had found the forest a good place to go. Chris had been silent for some minutes.
"Penny for them?" asked Simon.
"Er what?" replied Chris coming too.
"Penny for your thoughts."
"Oh, I was just thinking about our relationship. I was comparing it with other friendships I've had. Like the one with Nigel. Both relationships have sex as an important part of it, but we're different somehow."
"In what way?" asked Simon.
"Well, with Nigel sex somehow is everything. Even if you are playing cards, or something with him, you know that sex is the aim in view. You know you will end up fucking each other, or sucking each other off. With you it is different. When we play chess, I just enjoy being with you. When we argue, I'm glad we're together. Don't get me wrong. I enjoy the sex we have together. If that stopped I'd miss it. Something would be terribly wrong. But somehow it isn't everything."
"I think I know what you're getting at, Chris. I feel the same. The sex is the expression of the relationship. If I were to use theological language, or whatever, it is the consummation of our relationship. All that we do together are a part of the friendship, sex is an important part, even an essential part, but at the end of the day it is still a part of a greater whole."
"With Nigel the sex is the whole cake. With you the sex is the wonderful icing on a very rich tasty fruit cake."
"I think there is another difference. I don't know how to put it into words," said Simon. He thought for a moment. "I think this is especially true when we are on the bed, when we have time, and can to it properly without troubling about it being cold, or damp, or that someone may come round the corner. I want so much to give you pleasure. I want you to enjoy it. Sometimes I am not worried whether I even climax or not, so long as you do, and you are fulfilled, and you are happy."
"Thanks, Si. I'm going to take a risk. I'm going to say something that sounds rather wet. I hope you don't mind." Chris paused for a moment. "Simon, I think what I want to say is that I love you."
"Chris, that is one of the most wonderful things anyone has ever said to me." He put his arm round Chris's shoulder and pulled him towards himself. He turned and gave Chris a kiss. "I love you too."
"Now I think we should find somewhere in this forest, where there are some thick bushes, where we can lie down on our waterproof cycling capes, and express what we feel for each other."
They knew a quiet stretch of the forest with thick bushes nearer to Epping. It was only a couple of miles away. They went up through High Beech and found the place. They wheeled their bicycles into some thick holly bushes, and found a fairly dry place on some dry fallen hornbeam leaves. They removed the waterproof capes from the bicycles and spread them on the ground. It was too cold, and too unsafe, for a total removal of clothes, but trousers were lowered and shirts raised, and two teenage bodies came together. Two pairs of hands felt the other's bum, and two pairs of lips came together, and two tongues flicked and fenced with each other.
"I love you, Chris, with my whole being," whispered Simon.
"I love you, Si, body, mind and spirit."
Their love making was not long. It was not penetrative, but it was for them both, given the limitations of time and place, the perfect expression of their love for each other. They were both very quiet, but very happy as they cycled back home.
Simon continued to lie in bed recalling those earlier days, and continuing to consider why he had got married, and stayed married.
Notes:-
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Tube - familiar term for the London Underground railway system.
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Don Bradman. Australian cricketer. Probably the world's greatest batsman.