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 34
Wednesday 30th December was, as expected, a wonderfully bright and sunny day. The short southern summer had now arrived. Jonathan drove round to Oliver's house, finding it quite easily. It was a fairly large wooden house, standing well away from the other houses in the road.
Oliver had seen the car draw up, and came out of the house as Jonathan got out of his car. He was closely followed by his mother, an older woman than Jonathan would have expected, probably some fifteen years older than his own mother.
Introductions were made.
"I hope you boys have a good day. I will be aiming to have the meal about six o'clock, so get back in time to have a shower and freshen up."
The food and drink, together with towels and other gear necessary for a day on the beach were put into Oliver's car. They were soon on their way.
"I hope you've brought a bucket and some spades," said Jonathan.
Olly looked at him rather worried if his companion had not outgrown his childhood, but when he saw the twinkle in Jonathan's eyes, he relaxed and laughed. "I thought you might be too young for such grown-up activities."
It was Jonathan's turn to laugh.
There was almost no traffic on the roads, and though the last three miles were un-sealed, they were soon at their destination. They were able to take the car fairly close to the sea. It was a wide sweeping bay, with cliffs at each end, but where they had parked the car there were some pohutukawa trees in full red flower. They picked their spot in the dappled shade of one of the trees. There was just a low cliff, which was very easy to get down onto the sandy beach.
They had both got their swimming trunks on underneath their shorts, which were soon removed and they began to make their way down to the sea. There were surreptitious glances from both of them as they weighed up each other's physical attributes.
Jonathan saw that Oliver was indeed fit from all the swimming that he did. But he also saw the bad leg properly for the first time. One leg was shorter than the other. Oliver wore a made up shoe on is left leg, which reduced his limp. The operation scars were still faint on his leg, which was twisted so that the toes on his left foot pointed awkwardly inwards.
As they walked over the sand towards the sea Jonathan noticed just how severe was Oliver's limp when he was without his made up shoe on his foot. Side by side they waded into the water. The Pacific breakers that day were not huge, but big enough to make swimming interesting. Then the transformation took place, Oliver plunged into the water, and Jonathan could immediately see that he was in his element. It was not like a seal taking to water, but almost. Oliver plunged through a couple of breakers and swum strongly out into the ocean. Jonathan followed, but could not keep up. After a few minutes Oliver stopped, trod water and turned, obviously wondering where Jonathan was.
"I'm coming." Jonathan swam up to Oliver. "I thought you were all set for Tahiti, you are a strong and fast swimmer."
"That's all the hours in the pool. I never hang around there, I can swim for hours."
"Fancy swimming the English Channel?"
"How far is that?"
"Just over twenty miles as a crow, or seagull flies, but the tides sweep the swimmers back and forth so it is quite a bit further."
"I wouldn't mind having a go; but I reckon your North Sea is too cold for me." He laughed. "Happy to swim out further?"
"Why not? Though don't go so fast this time."
"I'll go my long distance pace, rather than my speed pace. Which way is out, I can't see the land now."
"This way." Jonathan set out, and they swam side by side further out into the Pacific. Jonathan was soon further out than he'd ever been before, but he knew that he was alright as long as he did not tire or panic. He swam at a slower pace, which was more economical in his use of energy.
"I feel better for that." said Oliver when eventually he stopped. "That's burnt off some of the over-eating of the last few days. Sea swimming is so different from being in a pool. In a pool all the waves are man made. Left to itself a pool becomes a glassy surface stillness. But in the sea they're always waves, even out here on a calm day there is still a swell lifting us up and down. In a pool we make the waves. Out here we're just corks bobbing on the surface."
"It is so quiet out here. You can hardly hear the noise of the breakers."
"I know - that's why I like it. Mum used to come out this far with me because she knew how much I liked it. But then she said she was too old to come out this far. Thanks, Jon, for this. But you'll have to show me the way back. I cannot see anything, and you're just a blur."
"This way." They swam back slowly side by side, taking much longer than going out. They let a breaker carry them in, and they found themselves rolling over and laughing on the sand.
"Thanks, Jon." Oliver stood up, was again earth bound, and began to hobble up the beach to where they had left their things.
There were now a few more parties on the beach and under the trees, but there was no sense of the place being crowded. The nearest people, a family of four, were about twenty yards away.
When they arrived at the spot where they had deposited their things, the first thing Oliver did was to feel around for his glasses and put them on.
"That's better. I can see you and what's what again."
"You really do need them don't you?" commented Jonathan.
They hardly needed to dry themselves as the sun and slight breeze had done most of that.
"I could do with a drink."
Oliver delved into his ice bag, and produced a couple of cans of beer. "That do you?"
"Perfect." They put their towels side by side down on the ground and sat down on them to drink their beer.
Oliver asked about Jonathan's swimming experience. "Mainly in the Public Baths back in Luton." All that seemed a million miles away, knowing that back home it was cold, probably wet and miserable, and here he was on a perfect beach enjoying perfect weather. "We also usually had a sea side holiday. When we were young in England somewhere, or Wales. We went to Ireland once. Unfortunately I've never been to Scotland. When my brother and sister were older we went abroad, to France a couple of times, or to Spain or Italy."
"You are fortunate to have lived so close to those other countries. Our nearest real country is Australia, and that is quite a bit further than any of those countries you've mentioned."
"I know. Have you been to Aus?"
"No." Oliver paused and looked up. "Though we are under these trees some sun gets through, I think we should put some sun lotion on." He reached in the bag and brought out a bottle.
"Good idea," said Jonathan. "You lie on your tum and I'll do your back." Jonathan took the lotion, while Oliver rolled over on to his stomach. Jonathan dribbled a line of lotion down Oliver's back.
"I'm glad that wasn't in the freezer bag. That felt cool enough," said Oliver.
Jonathan began to rub the lotion into Oliver's back. It was completely unintentional and subconsciously done that the way he did it reflected his experience of giving a massage at Bill's Place, nearly ten months before. He was just a little longer in applying the lotion to Oliver's shoulders. Then he moved down to do the legs. Oliver was expecting Jonathan to leave the left leg until last, but Jonathan began on the left leg.
"Tell me if I'm hurting, or doing something I should not do."
"I don't think you can do any harm, the bones are all set, just rather askew, that's all."
The application of the lotion meant that Jonathan's hand was reaching high up on the inner thigh of Oliver, but Jonathan was so used to having his hand on another man's body he thought little about it. Though he did notice with some amusement there was a very slight hardening of his own cock. But his mind was not on such matters. He then moved round so that he could do Oliver's other leg.
"Turn over, Olly; and I'll do your front for you."
Oliver remained face down and shook his head. Jonathan was puzzled for a moment, then he bent down and whispered in Oliver's ear, "Have you got a hard on?"
Oliver's head nodded.
"I've got a slight one too, so turn over."
Oliver immediately twisted round so that he could see whether Jonathan's words were true, and yes, there was a slightly more pronounced swelling in Jonathan's trunks. Slowly he turned over.
Jonathan saw that there was a firm out line of Oliver's penis in his trunks. "Well, Olly, that's nothing to be ashamed of." With that he poured out some more lotion on to Oliver's chest, and began to apply it. Then without any further words he did the front of Oliver's legs.
"Thanks, Jon. Now I'll do the same to you."
Oliver repeated Jonathan's actions, and tried to use his hands as Jonathan had done on the shoulders and bottom of the neck, but he had not the skill. When it came for Jonathan to turn over, Oliver noted that Jonathan's penis was also more pronounced, but he made no comment.
When they had finished applying the sun lotion, they did their own faces, and decided to eat.
"Where did you learn to massage?" asked Oliver.
"Oh, it was something I picked up in London when I was working up there." Jonathan now feared the next question, but Oliver kicked that conversational ball safely into the long grass.
"Do you know London well?"
"I could give you a conducted tour - the Tower, St Paul's, Buck House, Westminster Abbey and the Gas Works, usually called the Houses of Parliament, for starters. Because I lived so close to London I know the important parts quite well."
I wonder if I'll ever go there," mused Oliver.
When they had finished eating they sat back but continued talking.
"May I ask a personal question, Ol? How did you get your leg?"
"I got my leg when I was born," answered Oliver with a laugh. "No, I know what you mean. I fell out of a tree when I was eight." He paused before continuing. "My Dad had died a couple of years before. It was just Mum and I, I'm an only child. My parents married quite late, and they just had me.
"We own a bach in the bush [See footnote] It is quite remote, but on one of these tracks where walkers pass from time to time, though not so much then as now. Mum had taken a school friend of mine with us to this bach. A local man was hired to bring a horse with a week's supplies.
The bach is up in the bush, there is a medium sized lake up there just a few yards from the bach. The lake is one of the attractions for the trekkers. My friend and I had a wonderful time. There was boating and swimming in the lake, damming the nearby stream, exploring around, and of course climbing the trees.
"I climbed this tree, and went and fell out of it. It was immediately obvious that I had broken my leg very seriously. My friend ran to get my mother, and she carried me back to the bach. I was screaming. Mum was faced with a dilemma. She could go for help. That was a good four hour walk. She couldn't carry me, certainly not with the broken leg all that way. She considered leaving my friend to look after me, but she thought that would be too much responsibility placed on him. She did not think that she should leave me alone, even though I desperately needed medical help. There were very few days when trekkers did not pass, and in any case the man with the horse was actually due that day. But he came when he could, and he knew we had enough supplies for ten or twelve days at a pinch. So my mother decided to stay put. There were of course no mobile phones in those days.
"It was a case of Sod's law. No trekkers passed that way for the rest of that day, nor the next day. The man with the supplies eventually arrived over forty-eight hours after my hasty descent from the tree."
"How were you? How did you cope?"
"I was steadily getting into a worse and worse state. The pain was something terrible. Mum had some painkillers at the bach, they were soon used up. I began to get feverish, I know I cried a lot, and Mum told me I spent a lot of the time just whimpering with the pain. As time went on I began to slip in and out of consciousness. Mum was really desperate, she didn't know what to do for the best. I think it was just afternoon when my friend shouted that the man with the horse was coming. He made a rough splint to hold my leg immobile, and Mum got on the horse, and he handed me up to her, she held me and we began the four hour walk back to civilisation."
"Do you remember much about that journey?"
"Not really. Only it was hell. It was just one blur of pain, and looking up into the trees. Mum shielded my face from the direct sunlight. At long last we reached Kolaholaka. It is just a few houses, but there was a telephone. I gather they rang the hospital and they said it might be quicker for me to be brought in by car, rather than an ambulance come out there, which would double the time before I got to hospital. So Mum got in the back of the car, and I was handed in onto her lap. That was a painful move. The car journey was more painful than the horse, believe it or not. On the horse Mum could see what was coming and would cushion me from the worst of the jolts. But the first part of the road was unsealed, and though the driver shouted to us to hold on, when he saw the worst of the bumps, there were still a lot of them."
"What time did you get to the hospital?"
"I don't know the exact time, but I know the sun was beginning to go down. You know our lovely long New Zealand evenings in the summer. The car was driven up to the ambulance entrance, and suddenly I was being lifted out of the car by a bevy of nurses and ambulance men. A doctor gave me a quick examination and I was immediately taken off for an Xray. Mum says that very quickly a serious- faced doctor came and told her that if my leg was to be saved I needed to be operated on as quickly as possible. The best man for the job was in Wellington, and arrangements were being made for me to be flown down there that evening! After some discussion it was decided Mum had time to go home, pick up some things, and meet up at the airport an hour later."
"How much were you conscious of all this?"
"Not much, Jon. They had given me some strong painkiller, and as soon as that began to take effect I was very drowsy. I barely remember the flight, my first flight, down to Wellington."
"Who was with you?"
"Mum, and a nurse, I think. When we landed at Wellington I was transferred to a helicopter, they thought is was as urgent as that. I gather the helicopter landed on the roof of the hospital. The theatre team were all ready. Details from the Xray had been passed on ahead of me to Wellington, and the surgeon had worked out what he was going to do. So that night I had the first of the operations on my leg."
"The first? There were more than one?"
"Yes. I was in and out of hospital for the next year. Sometimes there was a month or six week between operations and I was brought home here. But usually I stayed with one of my Mum's sisters who lives in Wellington. I've got aunts and uncles sprinkled all over New Zealand, Mum comes from a large family."
"So that was a year out of school?"
"More or less. Mum had been a school teacher, and so had that aunt, so between them they tried to keep me up with things, but there were too many interruptions. For a lot of the time, I was confined to bed, or a wheelchair. It was a multiple compound fracture. Eventually, I came to the last of the operations. I remember sitting in the consultant's room, he'd become quite a friend. `Well, Oliver, we've done what we can. Another twelve hours and you would almost certainly have lost a large part of that leg. It will always be slightly shorter than the other one, but that special shoe will almost cancel that out. What is more difficult for you is that your left foot is twisted inwards. You will always walk with a limp. I am afraid outdoor sports are going to be impossible for you. But this last year has left you very weak, a lot of your muscles are nowhere near what they should be. I know that you've had some physio here, but that is just to start you on the way back to as full health that is possible. I think the best thing for you, Oliver, is swimming. When swimming you will forget about the leg, the handicap will be minimal, and swimming well get all those muscles toned up, as they should be for a young boy of your age.'"
"So that was how you started taking swimming seriously."
"First day back here Mum took me swimming. I got down into the water, and tried to swim a width. I got about half way; I was exhausted. First thing the next morning I was wanting to have another go. It took me four days before I could swim a width. I shall never forget the feeling of triumph when I'd done that. The next target was a length."
"How long did that take you?"
"Four or five days. Then it was two, three or more lengths. Then I got to the stage where I could swim up and down for ages, so I had to set a different target, so many lengths in a faster time. One of the attendants at the baths was a great guy. He produced a stop watch, and started timing me. There was so much encouragement."
"And back to school?"
"Yes. I slipped a year, so I was in a class with kids a year younger than me. I didn't like that. I was pretty average at school."
"What happened when you left school?"
"I did a year at college, and then some home study on business management. Dad and Uncle Joe were partners in the timber business. When Dad died Mum technically came the other half of the partnership until I came of age! In effect Uncle Joe took over the running of the business. As soon as I as able I joined him. He likes the out and about work, dealing with customers, buying the timber. Office work was anathema to him. He did the absolute minimum, sorting out the taxes etc... drove him to distraction. He just handed over that side to me, and it took me nearly three months to get it sorted out."
"My Gramps did the same sort of thing when his father suddenly died leaving him the family business. He then employed a secretary, and she became my Gran."
"I enjoy being efficient. Josh and Sailor sometimes drive me to distraction because given half a chance they will hide something, knowing how I don't like it."
"I don't think there is any real nastiness with them."
"Maybe not; but they are a pain in the butt at times."
They continued to lie in the shade of the tree. They talked about many things. Oliver was eager to know about London and life in Britain.
"My father's family come originally from Yorkshire, a place called Mirfield."
"I believe that's up in the West Riding somewhere. Don't really know Yorkshire."
"My mother's folk come from Maldon in Essex, do you know that."
"Very slightly. It is a town at the end of the Blackwater estuary. Very flat part of the world, with the tide coming in over mud flats, and the saltings, a land of sea walls, and a lot of sailing. It has its own attraction."
Jonathan quizzed Oliver about certain aspects of life in New Zealand. They compared and contrasted life in the two countries, with Jonathan speaking positively about the slower and more outdoor life in New Zealand; while Oliver wanted to see London, with its history, museums and art galleries.
They differed when it came to rugby. Though Oliver was unable to play the game he, like ninety nine point nine per cent of New Zealanders, was a keen supporter of the All Blacks [The New Zealand Rugby Union Team] Jonathan still supported England.
"If you were to stay out here, and say, become a Kiwi, would you still support England?"
Jonathan thought for a moment. "I think I would end up supporting England here, and the All Blacks back home."
They both laughed.
"You're just perverse!" was Oliver's verdict.
So they continued to talk. They had another much shorter swim in the sea, and then it was time to return to Oliver's home.
Oliver's mother greeted them back. "Good; you young men are back in good time."
"We've aged while being away," said Oliver to Jonathan, "We were boys when we set out, and now we are young men."
"I thought `boys' was not quite the word I should have used, once you'd set off," said Oliver's mother."
"You can use `boy' of Jon, he's still a teenager!" said Oliver.
"Just because you're about four years older than me." Jonathan went up close to Oliver and looked at his intently. "I think I can see some gray hairs, you must be years and years older than me!"
"Where?" Oliver went over and examined himself in a mirror.
"When you young men have finished fooling around, who's going to have the first shower?" said Mrs Franklin.
"Jonathan," said Oliver. "Follow me and I'll show you." Oliver led the way up stairs. "I'll show you around up here." He pointed to a couple of spare bedrooms, and his mother's room. "This is mine."
Jonathan saw a good sized bedroom, which was very tidy, and with a double bed.
"I needed that size bed when I was having problems with my leg. This way to the bathroom." He showed Jonathan into the room. "Here's a towel for you. I`ll leave you to get on with it."
Jonathan showered fairly quickly, dried himself, dressed and made his way down stairs. Oliver then went up stairs to shower, and Jonathan stood in the kitchen to talk to Mrs Franklin.
"Did you have a good day?"
"Yes, thanks. A nice spot."
"I suppose Oliver swam half way across the Pacific, I hope that was okay with you."
"When I'd slowed him down a bit. I couldn't keep up with him at first."
"Mrs Franklin laughed. "I know. Swimming is the only real exercise he gets, and he so enjoys getting into the sea; though he really likes it much rougher than it was today. So what part of England are you from?"
The next few minutes were taken up with conversation about England. Mrs Franklin had been there with her husband when they were first married. "Oliver was born five months after we got back," she added.
"So you are telling Jon I was conceived in England, are you Ma?" said Olly. " He'll be claiming me to support England for that."
"No way, wouldn't have you. You're hundred per cent Kiwi," said Jonathan.
"And proud of it. Let me show you round the estate. Oliver led the way to the dinning room where everything was laid out for a meal. Then into a much larger room, which led into the garden. But Jonathan's eyes were on a grand piano standing in the room.
"Does your mother play?"
"No, I play." A look of surprise came onto Jonathan's face. "Play something for me then."
Oliver lifted the top, put the support into position. He open the lid to the keyboard and saw the name Bechstein on it. Then he sat at the long piano stool. He thought for a moment. He then played very loudly the chord of C minor. Then in slow time a series of other soft chords. Then another loud chord. The loud chord and softer ones continued, and then there was a rapid descending chromatic scale, followed by a pause. Then suddenly, the piece changed, Oliver's hands went flying over the key board, sometimes the left hand crossing the right. It was a torrent of sound. Twice more the music went back to the slow opening theme, before ending in a short repetition of the fast passage. Jonathan opened his mouth to say something, but the music continued. These time it was a slow sensuous, romantic tune.
A movement at the door caught his eye, and Jonathan turned and saw that Oliver's mother was standing at the door listening. Jonathan thought he saw a tear in her eye. She disappeared into the kitchen at the end of the movement.
Again there was a pause, before Oliver continued with a happy movement, with tunes coming back several times. Oliver stopped, turned, looked at Jonathan and grinned.
"I'm not really into classical music, but that said something to me. Grandma Janice liked that sort of music."
"But you don't play?"
"No. Why?"
"If you played the piano or even another instrument we could have played duets."
"When did you start learning?"
"When I was quite young – before my accident. But I was not all that keen, the outdoors held too many attractions, and it was a crummy old upright piano. But after the year of hospital I decided to concentrate on swimming and the piano. I needed to have something to work on at home. So I worked hard."
"That certainly paid off. What happened to the crummy old piano?"
Oliver laughed. "I remember the day well. I was attempting to break my own distance record in the pool. 1000 metres I think. I did it, and when I got home and came in here there was this beauty. Uncle Joe had got it moved in while Mum and I were at the pool. That was an even bigger incentive to work hard at my practice."
"Are you still learning?" asked Jonathan rather hesitantly.
"Yes, I now have a teacher in Auckland. I have a couple of lessons every two or three months."
"Do you play in public?"
"Sometimes." Oliver gave a slightly embarrassed smile.
Mrs Franklin came in. "The meal's ready."
Jonathan and Oliver were both very hungry and devoured all that was set before them. "I thought you two would be like a couple of ravenous wolves. Lucky I made a lot."
The three of them sat talking over the meal.
"Mum, you go and sit down, Jon and I will clear away."
"You sure? It's Jonathan's first visit, he should be treated as a guest."
"You know how idle these Poms are, we mustn't let him acquire bad habits."
"You can talk, Ol, sitting in that office all day on your butt."
They went off and did the clearing away, loading the dishwasher, and washing up several pans that would not fit in. As they did so, they continued talking. Eventually they got round to making some coffee and taking it in to Oliver's mother.
"You two were like a couple of old women talking away together," said Mrs Franklin.
"We were putting the world to rights, Ma"
"It needs it."
It was nearly midnight when Jonathan left Oliver's house. When he looked at the time he was amazed how quickly the day had flown, but it was two very thoughtful young men who made their way to their beds that night.
**
Bach is the word now used in New Zealand for a holiday dwelling. They can often be in quite remote places, and are often quite primitive. A bach is often just one level above camping. The word is shortened from `bachelor' and denoted the often primitive quarters where farm workers were housed, or more usually where the seasonal sheep shearers were accommodated when they were working on a particular farm.]
Jeffrey at jeffyrks@hotmail.com
PS I wonder if any reader can tell what the piece was from my description. No prizes I am afraid for the correct answer.
**
Jeffrey at Jeffyrks@hotmail.com