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 John and Brian who have read this through and made a number of corrections and suggestions. Any remaining errors , grammatical, spelling historical or whatever are entirely my fault.
Thank you to those who have commented on my stories. If you want to comment on the story then do contact me on Jeffyrks@hotmail.com. I aim to reply to all message.
Jonathan 24 May 2009
The next Monday was James' day off, and they barely saw each other on the Tuesday. It was not until late on the Wednesday afternoon that they had an opportunity to talk privately.
"Looking forward to the weekend, James?" said Jonathan with a broad smile on his face.
"I'm not sure."
"What do you mean not sure? You got cold feet, or should it be limp prick about it?"
"I won't be coming over to your place over the weekend."
"Why ever not? What's happened?" The thought passed through Jonathan's mind that perhaps James sexual orientation had been discovered by his family, somewhat as Robert Fox's had been the previous summer.
"I haven't been able to get the picture out of my mind of you with all those men, all those old men. I know I have had some experience, but I've only been with two. You! You've been with a whole lot!"
Jonathan stood with his mouth open in amazement.
"I am glad you were honest and open with me, Jon. I appreciate that. I was so worried about it all that I went round to talk it over with Bruce on Monday. He said I should listen to myself, and if I was in any way unhappy about going ahead with you, then I shouldn't."
"I'm sorry you feel like that. I was looking forward to the weekend."
"I'm sorry to let you down. But while we were doing anything I would be picturing in my mind all the old men who'd done the same things with you. To me Bruce is old, and he's only in his thirties. You spoke of men, even into their eighties."
"Thanks for telling me you won't be coming." Jonathan walked away. Strong feelings of anger and disappointment swept through him.
The moment Jonathan walked in through the back door Malcolm, who was getting the meal, detected that something was wrong. "What's happened, Jon?"
Jonathan plonked himself down in a chair. "It's James, he won't be coming round this weekend."
"Why not? I thought it was all arranged."
"He's gone and got cold feet. I shouldn't have told him about my time at Bill's place."
Malcolm walked over and put his arm round his grandson. "If he couldn't see the truth about all that happened, that you were forced into it, then he's not worth having a relationship with. The right young man will see that what happened was not your choice, and accept that."
"But there were times, Gramps, many times , when I enjoyed what I did."
"Be thankful that was so. How much worse it would have been if you hadn't enjoyed much of what you did, and if you hadn't got on with the rest of the Boys working there."
"Perhaps I should have told him after the weekend."
"I don't think so. He would have some cause to think you had deceived him. You would have felt even worse if he'd broken it off after a good weekend."
They continued to talk it over. Then they ate their meal.
That night Jonathan had one of his worst nightmares. They both had to get up, have a drink and talk for about an hour before Jonathan felt able to face bed again. It was a broken, restless night for them both.
The rest of the week was a difficult one for Jonathan, especially as he continued to meet James at work from time to time. At home Malcolm did his best to help him through what had happened. Malcolm changed his plans, and decided not to spend the weekend round at Simon's. On the Saturday evening Simon invited Jonathan and Malcolm round for a meal.
Jonathan quizzed Simon about his story [A Tale of Two Englishmen] and Simon got Jonathan talking about Bill's place and its clientele.
"Do you think we should join, Mal?"
"I've thought about it," said Malcolm with a laugh.
"You haven't seriously, have you, Gramps?"
"Well, if the Boys at Bill's place have as delectable bodies as yours, Jon,..."
"And are as sexy as you are," added Simon. "I don't know how you keep your hands off him, Mal!"
Malcolm laughed, Simon was the only other person to know of the sleeping arrangements in the senior Pridham's home.
"You reckon you wouldn't be able to exercise such self restraint?" said Jonathan.
"No way. I'm getting hard, just talking about it." Simon showed that he had indeed got a hard on.
Jonathan laughed. "Sorry to be the cause of such frustration, Simon. Let's give Gramps a sleeping draft, and you can have your wicked way with me."
They all laughed. "Don't tempt me, Jon!"
The banter continued for a while.
"It's time we were getting back, Jon. Let's hope there are no nightmares tonight. I need a good night's sleep," said Malcolm.
Thanks for the meal and the evening were expressed. When Jonathan came to say goodbye to Simon, he gave him a warm hug, several kisses, and thrust his groin into him. Simon responded, and each could feel the other's hardening cock.
Malcolm saw all that had gone on and grandfather and grandson made their way back along the village street. "There are times, Jon, when you are quite a rascal," he chuckled.
The following Saturday afternoon saw the first cricket match of the season. Jonathan went into work early, and came away in good time for a light lunch and the start of the match. It was a home match, and Malcolm and Simon were there watching.
Jonathan had been promoted, and because of his record as an opening batsman in the school side, he was to open the Whitgest innings. The other side batted first and made a reasonable score. It was Jonathan who faced the first. The first ball can be a loose ball pitched wide of the stumps, or slower than usual for the bowler who has yet to warm up. It is also a testing ball for the batsman. The pace, accuracy and wiles of the bowler are as yet unknown to him, as are also the pace of the ball off the wicket, and whether the ball will turn even at the start of the innings. That sunny afternoon the bowler was on form. He bowled with speed and accuracy, and Jonathan heard the rattle of the leather ball sending his stumps flying. He was out for a duck [0] from the first ball.
It was a very disconsolate Jonathan who walked back to the pavilion. It seemed a hundred miles, and he was conscious that Malcolm and Simon were among the spectators. He went into the changing room, and threw his bat into his cricket bag, and sat with his head in his hands before taking off his pads.
The captain of his side came up and put his hand on Jonathan's shoulder. "It happens to us all from time to time."
"But first ball in the first match of the season!"
"You can only improve, and you will, I'm sure of that." The captain left him.
Whitgest did manage to win that opening game, but Jonathan was like a bear with a sore head for the most of that weekend.
Malcolm tried to console him. "It has happened to the greatest of batsmen. Didn't the great Don get a duck in his last Test? [Donald Bradman – Australian, almost certainly the greatest batsman of all time got a duck in his final international {Test} at the Oval in London]
"Did it happen to you, Gramps?"
"Oh yes, several times. Once I was out first ball in two consecutive innings. Your Dad, and your uncles all have been out first ball at some time or other. You've got plenty of runs in you, Jon, and they'll come."
His grandfather's remarks did little to help. Jonathan spent a large part of the rest of that weekend with his head buried in a book.
The following week, Whitgest were away. Jonathan made a respectable score of 35 before being run out when the other batsman called for an impossible second run.
Jonathan continued to visit his more immediate family in Luton. Thomas in particular was always glad to see him. He would be dragged out into the garden to kick a ball around, or now with summer approaching it was cricket that was the main interest. Thomas wanted to be taught things about the game, the strokes with the bat, and how to spin the ball. Jonathan remembered how about ten years earlier he was eager to do such things with his father, grandfather, and two uncles when they were around. He thought it likely that Thomas had inherited the Pridham genes that gave skill with bat and ball. But Thomas also liked to get physical with Jonathan. He would goad Jonathan into tickling him, or just wrestling and pulling each other around.
Lois's comment was usually simple – "You two!"
Abigail at fifteen regarded herself as far superior to any such activities. But in her own way she too was always pleased to see Jonathan. She just liked to sit close to him. Often she would ask for his help with her homework, or to test her on something she was learning.
Always if he arrived before his father returned from work he would seize any opportunity to talk with Lois. He began to feel much closer to his mother, and able to share with her in a way he had never found possible before.
The whole previous six months, and his time working at Bill's Place, were against his will. Both his parents saw that, but his mother was more sympathetic about it than his father.
"I don't think you should feel guilty about what you got up to at Bill's Place, Jon. You did not chose to go there. You were forced into it."
"I know I was, Mum. The trouble is that there were times when I enjoyed it. I certainly enjoyed the friendships with the other Boys, the fun, the teasing, the support and encouragement."
"Yes, Jon. And what would it have been like for you without that?"
"It would have been hell!"
Lois did not really approve of such language, but she said nothing.
"So there were good things about it for you. I think you've learnt a lot about life. In a very painful, and sinful way. But if you have learnt something about life, then that is good. Something even to be thankful for." Thankfulness always had a religious slant for Lois and Michael. "I think I will always find it difficult to understand homosexuality, because it is a totally alien desire for me. I suppose it is because it is to do with sex that I find it difficult, whereas there are so many other things that people do and desire which I cannot understand yet can accept."
"Mum, do you think Christians have got a hang-up when it comes to sex?"
Lois looked at him firmly. "What do you mean?"
"Do you think Christians tend to regard these sexual things as far more serious than some other things. You say quite firmly on this `The Bible says...' Yet you disagree on what is meant even with the Ten Commandments!"
"What do you mean?"
Take for example the commandment, You shall not kill. What does that mean in practice? Some Bible-believing Christians say it means never fighting in a war, even against people like the Nazis. Others say when confronting an evil like the Nazis it is okay. A large number say that the commandment means no abortion, some not ever in any circumstances, even if the mother's life is in danger. Catholics and others use is it to try and stop a lot of research on human embryos. Then there is its relevance to capital punishment. There are those Bible believers in the States who believe murderers and so on should be executed, and that the commandment does not apply in that situation. Who's right?"
"I see your point, Jon. I think you should talk that sort of thing through with someone like Pastor Willis."
Jonathan smiled, "I think not, Mum."
It was on another visit that something interesting happened with his father.
The Pridham's house in Luton had a room that was variously called the family room, or tele room, or living room. It was a smallish room where the family relaxed, and distinct from the dining room where they sat when eating as a family, or the sitting room which was usually used when there were visitors. It was nearly nine o'clock one evening and Jonathan was sitting alone in the family room. Thomas had gone to bed, Abigail was in the final stages of doing her homework, his mother was upstairs, and his father on the phone.
Jonathan picked up one of the magazines that was lying on the coffee table. He soon saw that it was a religious magazine, which his parents had probably bought at Church. He browsed through it casually. There were the usual articles and adverts in it: adverts for various Christian holidays and conferences, for Christian book shops and exhibitions. The articles were on various Christian activities in this country and in the wider world.
One article caught his attention. A Threat to the Western World! It was not on terrorism, or global warming, but on homosexuality. He skimmed through the article; it was the usual thing, a wholesale attack on homosexuality and homosexuals. There was the usual suggestions that homosexuals were responsible for the alarming divorce rate, broken families, and a hint that they were also responsible for most of the sexual abuse of children. He gave a sigh, it was to him the same old stuff. Then he caught the name of the author. It rang a bell. Then he saw there was a small photograph of the author. It was Ginger, the last punter he had gone with when he was at Bill's Place.
"What you reading, Jon?" asked his father as he came into the room.
"This article in this mag." He showed the page with its headline and pic to his father.
"Yes, that article was recommended at the Men's Fellowship by Pastor Willis."
"The author is a bigoted hypocrite, " said Jonathan softly.
"What! You can't say that, he is a highly respected Christian journalist."
Jonathan paused before saying anything. "Oh, yes, he is a journalist, and might be respected for his journalism, but he is a hypocrite, none the less."
"But you can't say that, you don't know the man. You must be mistaken in the name."
"No, Dad. There's his pic here, I'd know him anywhere."
"But you can't know him."
"But I do, Dad. I know him intimately. He is a rather plump man , married with four kids."
"The blurb tells you that," interrupted Michael.
"Yes, it does, but it doesn't tell you his body is covered with ginger hair, and that his nickname, dating back to his school days is Ginger. He's got large balls, and an uncut cock. He likes to fuck women and boys with no foreplay or lubricant."
Michael looked at his son with shocked amazement. Shocked at the coarseness of his son's language, and that he should speak in such a way to him: but there was only one way by which Jonathan could know such things.
"Yes, Dad, he was my last punter, and one of the most objectionable and mean men of all the punters," said Jonathan quietly. "He's never satisfied with the service given to him. His tip that last day was just five quid, the usual tip was twenty."
At that moment Lois came into the room. She detected the strained atmosphere, and was apprehensive that another major argument was brewing between father and son.
"Lois dear, you know that article on homosexuality recommended to us by Pastor Willis?"
"Yes, dear."
"Jonathan has just told me that the author was his last client at that place."
Lois put her hand to her mouth in shock. "Is that so, Jon?"
"Yes, Mum. I'm afraid he picked me twice. Once together with Andy the top Boy, and the last time just me. He required a massage first, that last time."
Neither Lois nor Michael needed to be told what had followed the massage. The reality of Jonathan's life at Bill's suddenly became more real to them both.
Lois came across and sat next to Jonathan, putting an arm round him. "Oh Jonathan!"
"This is serious," said Michael. "I shall have to tell Pastor Willis about this."
"Does he know about me?" asked Jonathan.
"He knows you're gay. We told him when you ran away. We've not told him what you've been doing, except to say you're back in contact and living with Pop."
"That man deserves something," said Lois. "To write articles against being gay, when he goes to such places himself. It's so hypocritical."
"Of all the punters who came to Bill's, he was the worst, in every way. There were good and not so good among the others, but every one of the Boys would put him at the bottom of the list."
They talked over the hypocrisy of the situation.
"The trouble is he is not the only one. One of the things that Peter Tatchell, and the organisation called Outrage does is to deal with people like that."
When Jonathan got back to Whitgest later that evening he told Malcolm all that had happened.
"Well done, Jon. I think telling them about Ginger was good, especially if it all gets back to that Pastor of theirs. As you know that conventicle," Malcolm winked at Jonathan as he used that word, "is responsible for the hardening of their opinions on many things."
Jonathan continued to be exchanged at frequent intervals with Kevin in New Zealand. Though the support of Malcolm was invaluable for Jonathan and he didn't know how he would be without it; Kevin was nearer his own age, there being only a seventeen year age gap. Also Kevin was `out' to all the family, which Jonathan's grandfather was not.
Jonathan began to think seriously about Kevin's repeated invitations to go out to New Zealand. He talked it over with Malcolm, who said that he might well make the trip and join his gandson, as he had enjoyed his time in that country, and would like to see more of it. They began to think of when they might go. Jonathan insisted on not going before the end of the cricket season, and Malcolm wanted to go after the summer was over with the garden. So they agreed and began to think in terms of late September or October.
The next question was how to tell Lois and Michael. That was more difficult, knowing how Michael felt about his younger brother.
Jonathan thought one way might be just floating it as a possibility to Lois, and seeing what the reaction was.
Jeffrey at jeffyrks@hotmail.com