Oliver watched the rear lights of Jonathan's car disappear round a corner, and walked slowly back into the house. He closed the front door, and walked through to the room where they had been sitting talking, and where his mother was fluffing up the cushions before going up to bed.
"So you had a good day, Olly?"
"Yes, Mum, a very good day. We got on really well. A good swim, and then we just talked."
"You both seem to know how to do that! He seems a nice lad."
"Yes. He more or less took no notice of my leg or my eyes. We rubbed suntan lotion on each other, and he had no inhibitions about rubbing it into my leg. He did that leg first."
"You think that significant."
"I think most people would have done the bad leg second."
"Maybe. Do you think he's like you?"
"I don't know. There was no mention of girl friends, but we didn't get round to talking about that sort of thing."
"Too busy putting the world to rights?"
Oliver laughed. "We did talk over a lot of serious things."
"Will you tell him?"
"If and when there's a right moment."
"I only hope you don't get hurt."
"Do you think I'm in danger of that?"
"Somewhat. It is obvious you like him. I can see it in your eyes, and the way you played that Beethoven for him. Is he settled over here, or is he going to go back to England?"
"I don't know. He has an uncle over here, and he's visiting him."
"I think he likes you, but he's English, I know you both speak the same language, but there are cultural differences between the U.K. and here."
"I think I'll be disappointed, hurt even, if we don't do something like today again.
"Take care, son. I'm off to bed now."
As his mother walked out of the room Oliver sat down and thought over the whole of the day. He had not enjoyed a day like that for a very long time. It was an hour later when he eventually made his way upstairs to bed.
Jonathan did not get far on his way back to Kevin's before he pulled onto the side of the road to think. He had suggested going swimming with Oliver almost as an act of charity, something it would be good and kind to do. But now he did not have that slight feeling of well being that usually comes from doing that. What was the new feeling that was making itself known within himself?
He had now been in New Zealand for just over three months, and he realised though he had had many good days, this day was already standing out as special. He tried to analyse what made it special. He had enjoyed the swimming and the time on the beach talking with Oliver. They had got on extremely well. Their relationship had been as easy as that which he had had with Bob Fox. Yet, it was different. There was a maturity, that had not been there even just eighteen months earlier with Bob.
Then there was Oliver's piano playing. Jonathan was not really into classical music, but the piece Oliver had played spoke directly to him. Oliver had paused for several moments before deciding what piece to play in answer to Jonathan's request. It was as though Oliver was trying to say something to him through that classical sonata. It was not even his sort of music. The hasty agitated restlessness of the first movement, then that heart rending melody in the second, followed by the jolly, happy third movement. If Oliver was trying to say something to him, what was it he was saying? Jonathan could find no answer, and shrugged his shoulders and turned his thoughts to the meal and the time with Mrs Franklin.
Was there a future in this budding friendship with Oliver? He would like him as a friend. He would like to go swimming and talk more with Oliver. But was there something more, was Oliver gay? Did he want Oliver to be gay? He was far from the ideal that Jonathan had put into words when talking with Malcolm and Kevin. Outwardly the two of them seemed to have so little in common. Yet! Yet? He had not enjoyed a day with another friend since...Bob? But it was a better day than he'd ever spent with Bob. Would sex with Oliver make things better or worse?
Then the old problem came lumbering into his mind. "Damn Bill! Damn Bill," and he banged his hands on the dash board. He started up the car and drove back to Kevin's home.
Neither Kevin or Owen had to go into work that Thursday, and they had been late rising. It was about midday when a bleary eyed Jonathan came downstairs.
"You look as though you've had a rough night, Jon," said Owen, who was doing something in the kitchen.
"It was late when I got back, and I've not slept very well."
"How did it go with this guy Oliver?"
"It went very well, considering. We had a good swim, he is a fast swimmer, far outpaced me, and we swam out further than I've ever gone. Then we lounged around by the beach, under some of those trees with the red flowers.
"We just talked and talked. Then went back to his place. He's also a very good pianist, which surprised me for some reason. We had a nice meal, and the rest of the evening was spent the two of us chatting with his mum."
"So?"
"What do you mean `So'?"
"Is he gay?"
"I don't know. He's a nice guy, I like him; but he's everything my ideal is not. Because of his leg and his sight he cannot play any sport. I know he's a strong swimmer, but that's not the same as playing around with a ball of some shape or size."
"How old is he?"
"Twenty three."
"Is that in your age range?"
"Oh yes."
"Might he be gay?"
"There was no mention of girl friends on either side, so I don't know. Though we did rub suntan lotion on each other, and I know when I did it to him he got a hard on."
"Did you get one too?"
"Yes, a bit of one."
"Did he know you'd seen his, and did he see yours?"
"He wouldn't turn on to his front when I'd done his back. When he refused I asked if he'd got a hard on. He nodded. I told him I had a bit of one too. He turned to look at the mound in my swimming gear, and then turned on to his back; and yes, he'd certainly got one too."
"That could be significant. Would you like him to turn out to be gay?"
"I don't know. I shall have to think about that."
"Would you like to go swimming and so on with him again?"
"Yes. It was a good day, a really good day."
Jonathan was not his usual self for the next couple of days. Both Kevin and Owen noticed that he was unusually quiet, and was thinking something over, though they both had a good guess as to what it was.
Jonathan summed up his thoughts with three pictures or symbols. The first was of a sunny day. That was the memory of Wednesday on the beach with Oliver, and then back at his home. Jonathan increasingly realised just how much he had enjoyed the day. Whenever a memory came into his mind it was good. Jonathan encouraged the memories, and all sorts of little things he remembered. He could almost remember each wave when swimming, and he certainly could remember all the things they had talked about.
The second was a symbol, a question mark. There were two parts to this: was Oliver gay, and did he, Jonathan, want to get involved in a sexual relationship with a man who had one leg shorter than the other, and had poor eyesight? He realised that with the first part he was rather like a dog chasing his own tail. From the evidence he had he could not answer with any degree of certainty. But if Oliver was gay, did he want to enter into a physical relationship with him? Jonathan had on so many occasions described the sort of man he was looking for to Gramps, and several times to Kevin and Owen, It was always of someone physically perfect, good looking and an outdoor type. Oliver with his thick glasses could not be described as good looking, and there was the bad leg. Yet, the sunny day would come back into his mind and he knew just how much he liked Oliver. Their conversations had led him to respect the slightly older man. Then he realised that there were more important things in a relationship that these physical details. The old saying about love being blind came into his mind.
Then there was the cloud. The cloud was his own past. What would Oliver, let alone his mother, say if they knew that he'd worked in London for four and a half months as a rent boy, or male prostitute? The conversations with Oliver had shown him that Oliver, largely because of his accident, had had a sheltered upbringing. He had never travelled out of New Zealand, never been to one of the gay centres in this world like Sydney in Australia. He could easily picture the shock and horror on Oliver's face if he told him.
For the following two days these pictures chased themselves around in Jonathan's mind. He thought they were in some ways like the first movement of the piano sonata that Oliver had played – with changes of tempo, clashing chords, and furious agitation.
It was late on the Saturday that Jonathan was sitting out on the deck in the evening, when Kevin came and sat beside him.
"What's the problem, Jon? `Crazed with care, or crossed in hopeless love'? You're not your usual self."
"Is it that obvious?"
"To be quite honest – yes. You're not the usual ray of sunshine. Spill the beans to your old uncle Kev. I may be able to help."
"I shall remember you acknowledged that you are 'old'." Jonathan gave Kevin a grin.
"That's the first smile I've seen on your face for days. So is it about your day with this guy Oliver?"
"Yes. I don't know where I am over it."
"In what way? You enjoyed the day, didn't you?"
"Yes, very much. It was great. But it raises some problems with me. I think there is a possibility that Olly may be gay."
"The hard-on he got, when you rubbed the suntan lotion on his back? Owen told me."
"Yes. Though I don't think it proves anything."
"I agree. But it does show he's capable of sexual arousal, and in response to your hard on rolled over on to his back."
"But he's not my type."
"In what way?"
"I want a cricket loving, rugby playing hunk. Someone fit, not a cripple." Jonathan paused. "I don't think I should have said that, even thought it. He can't be blamed for his eyesight, and not really for falling out of a tree. That could have happened to any one of us. I know I climbed enough trees when I was young."
"But does his eyesight and his bad leg really matter?"
"What do you mean?"
"You enjoyed your time with him, both on the beach and back at his place. You got on well. If he is gay, and if he can actually face having some sex with you, would you turn him down because of his sight and leg?"
"I don't think I would. His body is great, all the swimming has seen to that. It's just his leg and his eyes."
"But he has got two legs, and the bad one moves, and bends. I don't think one leg shorter than another would cramp his love making technique. He would have the advantage when making love most of the times he wouldn't have his glasses on, and not having to gaze at your ugly mug!"
Jonathan gave Kevin a prod. "Remember, my dear old uncle, that everyone says we look alike. Poor Owen has to put up with your mug."
"Don't you think you might be setting the wrong standard? When it comes to a relationship there are a host of more important things than looks. You got on together, it seems you like each other, so..."
"But things that are important to me, like cricket and rugby, we would not be able to share."
"So? Remember in twenty years time your rugby days will be over, and you will be wondering how much longer you can play cricket, if you haven't had to give it up already for some reason or another. He has his swimming, that you only partly share. He is a more than competent pianist, and your musical abilities are limited to singing in the shower. Often the best relationships have some different interests."
"But I am looking forward to seeing a lot of New Zealand, I want to do some of these fabulous tracks. We could never do that together."
"Maybe not. But you wouldn't be traipsing all over Kiwiland twelve months in every year. You don't have to do everything together. You wouldn't become Siamese twins."
"True. But there's also my past."
"Yes, I acknowledge that may be a stumbling block. But if he's worth being a special friend, he'll see the truth behind your story. You didn't chose to be a sex worker, you were ensnared into it."
"Thanks, Kev. But what am I to do about it?"
"I suggest you ring him up, and propose another day on the beach. If he wants to repeat it, that is one step in the right direction. You must play it by ear, as it comes."
Jonathan phoned that evening but got no answer; and then he remembered that Oliver was going to be out a lot over the New Year.
Jonathan tried the phone again the next morning. This time it was answered by Oliver's mother.
"Jon here. Is Olly around?"
"Yes. I'll call him." There was the sound of Oliver being called. "You all right, Jon? Enjoying the few days off work?"
"Yes. But it seems strange to spend Christmas and New Year in hot sunshine."
"I suppose you are used to snow at this time of year?"
"Not so much snow in recent years; what with all this global warming. Though they've had snow this year!"
"Here's Oliver."
"Hi Jon, how's things?" came Oliver's enthusiastic voice.
"Fine. Any chance of another swim?"
"Yes. I've got something on tomorrow; but what about the day after?"
"That would be fine by me."
"You come round here about 10.00, and I'll take you somewhere else. Equally good swimming. And come back here for a meal afterwards?"
"If that's all right with your Mum?"
"Will be. See you then."
Jonathan put the phone down, and felt both happier and more apprehensive. Oliver had been keen for the two of them to go swimming again, which was a very positive sign. But Jonathan knew that sooner or later he was going to have to tell Oliver about his past activities if their friendship was going to mean anything.
Two days later Jonathan arrived on time at Oliver's home. This time he went in. Oliver was just finishing packing up some food and drink.
"I should have brought something along," said Jonathan.
"You can buy some cans on the way then. I've put some boards in the car, this beach is usually more fun."
"Be back in time to eat about six again," instructed Mrs Franklin.
They drove off, and stopped to buy some cans of beer. The beach to which Oliver was taking Jonathan was in the opposite direction to the way they had gone a few days before, and it was slightly farther. It was rather different. There were some cliffs down which a narrow path led to the beach. The car was left at the top, though again there were a few convenient trees to provide some shade. They managed to find one which had not already got a family party encamped underneath it.
They decided to swim straight away. Jonathan was surprised how well Oliver negotiated the steep narrow path down onto the sand. Soon they were plunging into the waves. Again Oliver seemed to be in his element. This time they rode in on the boards, as the breakers were good."
"Not like Bondi, but enough for some fun," said Oliver. "Do you do this in England?"
"Yes, a lot is done down in Cornwall. We've had a number of family holidays down there."
"It's not too cold?"
"No. It is warmed by the Gulf Stream. Cornwall is warmer than the North Sea, that often is cold."
"That why you've got so much chest fur, to keep the cold out," said Oliver with a laugh.
"I think that's more genetic than climatic."
They spent a long time in the water, though there was no serious swimming this time.
"We'll have a proper swim later."
Back under the tree by the car, they quenched their thirst with a couple of the cans they had bought.
"On your tum, Ol, it's sun lotion time."
Oliver grinned, and lay down on his stomach.
"And this time you will not be embarrassed if you get a hard on?" whispered Jonathan in Oliver's ear.
"Not if you get one as well."
"That is not always something I can control, either one way or the other."
Oliver laughed. "An unruly member?"
"You can say that again."
Again the sun lotion was applied, but this time they were more relaxed about it. Both got hard-ons, and though they didn't flaunt the fact, neither of them tried to conceal it.
"Jon, you told me something about your parents, and your Grandfather, who you're obviously very close to. Tell me about this uncle you're staying with. Is he married, has he kids?"
"No. He's not married." Jonathan paused for a moment. "He lives with a guy called Owen. They have been together for a couple of years or so."
"He's gay?"
"Yes. Is that a problem?"
"No. Not with me, it isn't. How did they meet?"
"Kev was working out here, and they met. Kev was married and went back to England. He was almost caught by his wife with another man, but the truth came out."
"Wow!"
"He got divorced and came back out here. The family was divided. My parents are fundamentalists, anything to do with homosexuality is evil of the darkest degree. My parents won't have anything to do with Kev."
"Yet you're staying with him. And your Grandfather stayed with him, so he must accept Kevin."
"It's all a long story."
"You going to tell me?"
"I suppose so."
"You sound reluctant."
"I am hesitant, because it might well mark the end of our friendship."
"Why's that?"
"There are two things you need to know."
"And what are they?"
"The first is, I'm gay!"
"That's no problem with me; far from it."
"What do you mean, `far from it'?"
"Well. I think I'm gay. In fact I'm pretty sure I'm gay."
"Are you saying you're bi?"
"No." Oliver paused for quite a while, considering, before answering. "I've had several opportunities to go with a girl. I think my disability brings out their mothering instincts. Several have more or less offered themselves. But I'm just not interested. Not in that way."
"So?"
"I'm attracted to men. But I've never done anything with another guy. Since my accident I've had few friends. Because I didn't play games I was sort of ignored. I liked school work, I played the piano, both were regarded by the other boys as nerdish activities. I've never had a fuck, or a blow job, not even a kiss and a grope."
"You seem to know something about what like minded guys do when they get together."
"I read mags. I go on the internet. But when guys see a pic of me in my glasses, and I look even worse without them on, as you know; or when they know I have one leg shorter than the other, they are not interested. All the guys who don't seem to be bothered about such things live in the States, or Europe. There is one guy down in Dunedin who I chat to quite a lot. He doesn't seem bothered, but he is twenty odd years older than me. I don't want to go with an older man."
"Does your Mum know about you?"
"Yes, she knows. We're very close; I suppose the result of my falling out of that tree. Over a period of time I told her of my feelings. She encouraged me to find out more about what it means to be gay. I have a stack of gay mags stacked away in my bedroom."
"Does she know."
"She knows. `If that's what you like reading, that's fine by me', she says. She is concerned that I don't get hurt, or hurt anybody else." Oliver paused. "Joe also knows. He's Mum's brother-in-law, as you know. When Dad died, Joe became almost like a father to me. When I had my accident he supported and encouraged both of us through that year of hospitals. Mum told him, and I think asked his advice."
"You just don't know how fortunate you are to have a mother and an uncle like that. Joe doesn't have any kids, does he?"
"No. He's married, but no kids. So I am the heir to the family business. Mum and I own half the business, but when Joe retires or pops his clogs the business will become mine. I'm learning the trade."
They sat in silence for a while gazing out to sea.
"So, Jon, what's your story?" whispered Oliver. "What have you to tell me that threatens our friendship?"
Jonathan continued to gaze out to sea. "It all really began nearly two years ago. I had a friend, called Bob. We'd been friends since we started at nursery school years before. At half term he went to stay with his grandparents. Also there was an uncle, Martin. This uncle is only ten years older than Bob, and they'd always got on well. The long and short of it is that Martin more or less seduced Bob – mind you Bob was more than just willing."
"And Bob came home and told you all about it?"
"Exactly. But Bob had been lusting after me, and I had been lusting for him, but we were both scared of making the first move and getting rejected."
"Did you make up for lost time?"
"We were fortunate his folks were out at work all day, and he's an only child, so we had a couple of hours back at his place almost every day. When we couldn't go there, we found somewhere else. We had a secret place in some woodland."
"Wow. Wish that had happened to me."
"It was his parents who had encouraged my folk to join their fundy church. The pastor was called Willis, and nearly every sermon seemed to contain some condemning reference to the evils of homosexuality. That was why there had been the big bust up when it was discovered Kev was gay."
"So you and Bob were having a whale of a time. Why should I be upset about that?"
"There's more to the story; a lot more. In the summer holidays Bob was watching one of his uncle Martin's porny DVDs, and one of his parents came home early. He was watching and wanking."
"As you do!"
"Exactly! He just had time to pull up his trousers, and turn off the DVD, before whoever it was came into the room. He had no opportunity to remove the incriminating DVD. Sometime later his father decided he wanted to watch something, and found the DVD. Can you imagine the horror a gay video being seen by a fundamentalist of the strictest sort, and him realising his only begotten son and heir had been watching it. Bob was interrogated, and in that process it came out, not only that I'd seen the DVD, but also we had done things together. Bob's Dad came round and told my folk what he had discovered."
"What happened?"
"I was out at the time. I had been over to Whitgest where my Grandfather lives. When I got home I was ushered into the dining room, and across the dining room table I was interrogated. I couldn't deny it. So out it all came. That I'd been having sex with Bob, and I said that I loved him. When I said that Dad was outraged. We stood up shouting at each other. He suddenly reached over and punched me in the eye. I stepped back and fell over a chair onto the floor."
"Terrible!"
"Mum told me to go up to my room."
"What on earth did you do?"
"I thought carefully, though not carefully enough. Dad and Mum had been saying they wanted to send me away to one of these places where gays are cured."
"I didn't think that was really possible."
"I don't think it is. Pastor Willis said the best places for being healed were in the States. I wanted to go up to Uni., as had been planned. The last thing I wanted to have was an attempted cure, with aversion therapy, hours of preaching, prayer meetings, cold baths, and goodness knows what else inflicted on me. I knew I was gay, and was happy being gay, and wanted to remain gay."
"So what did you do?"
"When I was a kid I used to climb out of my bedroom window, over the garage roof, down a drain pipe and away. My Dad once caught me and forbade that mode of exit! So that was the way I got out of the house."
"So what did you do? Go to your grandfather's?"
"I wish now I had done that. I acted hastily, I didn't really think properly."
"Who would've done in that situation?"
"I decided to go up to London, with vague plans of getting somewhere to sleep, and getting a job. I got to Kings' Cross very late that evening. I was looking for somewhere where I could get a bite to eat. I was wandering into the concourse, when a guy came up to speak to me. We got talking, he could see the black eye coming up on my face. He offered me a bed for the night. Said he had a spare bed, if I didn't mind sleeping in the same room. I thought that was no problem."
"So you landed on your feet."
"That's what I thought. We went back to his place. It was very small, but there were two beds. Next morning I thought I had not just landed on my feet, but in clover as well. This guy, Keith, was gay. He understood my predicament."
"And you end up romping on the bed with him!"
"True. He was the second guy I went with. He was very experienced, and I learned a lot from him. The sex was really good."
"But?"
"Yes, Ol, there is a but. Keith suggested I waited until the black eye had gone before looking for a job and finding somewhere to live. This took several days."
"Did you contact your folk at all?"
"No. I thought about it a lot. Even lifted the phone to dial the number several times, but always I chickened out. We'd parted on really bad terms. After a few days Keith said we'd both been invited down to the country for a weekend party."
"I presume it was a sort of gay party."
"Yes, it was. About a dozen men. The weather was warm, there was a small pool outside, so no clothes were worn the whole time." Jonathan saw that Oliver's eyes were wide open in amazement. "The farm was owned by a guy called Bill. He is a real self made man. I think he started off in life in one of the poorer parts of the East End of London. He had made his way in life. His wealth had created a sort of translucent cloak of respectability around him. He had one of the biggest cocks I've encountered. It was long, but not freakishly long, but also very thick."
"You say `encountered', does that mean you...?"
"Yes, Bill took me on one side the Saturday morning, and he lay on his back and he got me to impale myself on his monstrous dick."
"That sounds painful."
"It was a bit. Keith was fairly big, but Bill was bigger. He told me how to do it. It took plenty of time. Each time it started hurting he told me to stop, and as I relaxed it slipped further in. Took about twenty minutes to half an hour for me to take it all."
"Did you enjoy it?"
"To a large extent, certainly it was better once it was in. We took a really long time over it that morning."
"Did you do things with any of the other men?"
"Yes."
"I find all you are saying quite difficult to believe. I know I have read the books, and mags, seen the pics and so on, but to sit and talk to someone who has done all that."
"Does it shock you?"
"I suppose it does it bit. You seem such an ordinary nice sort of guy, and yet you have been on a naturist weekend having it off with various men."
"I'm afraid, Ol, I am going to have to shock you a lot, lot more."
"What happened?"
"At the end of the weekend Bill said there was a slight change of plan. Keith had to go off somewhere to do something for him, but he would take me back to London. On the journey back I fell asleep, and when I woke I was in a strange room with a strange man sitting by the bedside. I was lying on a bed, they had taken my shoes off. I was at Bill's house. When I had recovered from the drug they'd given me."
"Drugged?"
"Yes, something to make me sleep. I was taken to see Bill, he said he wanted me to work for him."
"What sort of work?"
"Bill owned a club in the West End of London. Outwardly it was a respectable men's club. But there was a secret annexe known to most if not all of the club members. There, there were some dozen or fifteen boys or young men between the ages of seventeen and twenty-five who were available for sex."
"He wanted you to work in there?"
"Yes."
"I suppose you said, `no'."
"Initially I did. I said I was all set to go up to Uni. I asked to be able to contact my folk. Bill knew I had fallen out with them. He showed me a pic of me impaled on his cock, and obviously enjoying it. Would I like that to be shown to my parents, my brother and sister, and my grandfather? Keith had found out a lot about me, and passed it on to Bill."
"Blackmail!"
"Exactly. I still said `no'. So he told a couple of men who had been sitting in while Bill had been talking to me, to take me away. He would give me twenty-four hours to think it over. I was carried off, when I struggled one of the heavies punched me in the stomach. I was carried downstairs to a small room. There was just a mattress on the floor, and a bucket to pee into in the corner, and a camera that watched every thing I did. They tore my shirt off me; buttons went everywhere, and they stripped me. Then they took my belt and swiped me with it a couple of times." Jonathan reached over for his shorts which were not far away, and pulled out his wallet. He opened it, and took out a small clear plastic bag. "These are the buttons."
"Wow," Oliver took the bag and looked at the buttons. "And this is London? Twenty first century? Not some Middle Eastern country? What happened the next day?"
"The next day I was asked again if I'd work for Bill. Again I said, `no'. I was told I'd be there until I changed my mind and accepted Bill's offer."
"Some offer! What was it like?"
"They deliberately disorientated me. Five or six breakfasts in a row, meals frequently, or longer spaced out. I soon lost all track of time. I had nothing to do. There was nothing to read, nothing to watch, there were only my shirt buttons which had lain scattered across the room. Then there were the beatings. The two men watching over me were sadists – one more than the other. They would take me into the shower room, where there was a hook in the ceiling, and string me up, so I could just stand, with my hands stretched up above my head. It was terrible." As Jonathan said this he felt Oliver's arm come round his shoulders. "One of their tricks was to excite my cock, so it got hard, and then flick it painfully with a sort of whisk. They had various instruments to use on me. It seemed to go on for ever and ever."
"Jon, how did you bear it? How long did this go on for?"
"Then apparently Bill gave them permission to rape me."
There was a sharp intake of breath from Oliver.
"Fortunately the guy who had me first was the better of the two. He put a proposition to me. If I objected he would take me forcibly. If I let him, then he'd allow me to prepare my arse with some lube, and then we both might enjoy it."
"Which did you chose?"
"The lube. I had a shower and lubed myself in the bathroom, and then he took me back into the cell where he had me."
"Was it painful?"
"Not particularly, as he'd allowed me to prepare myself. I can't say I enjoyed it, but it could have been far worse. A few hours later, the other guy, Frank, came down for his go. He didn't allow me to prepare myself, but some of the lube from before was still around, so it was not too bad. He was a brute, enjoying giving pain. Fortunately he had a small dick, and he soon came."
"So what was the eventual outcome?"
"I eventually said, `yes' and accepted Bill's offer."
Oliver was silent for a moment. "I think I would have done the same, in those circumstances. Accepting was the only way out."
"Unless they bumped me off, I was beginning to wonder if they would do that."
"Jon, all that's terrible." Oliver's hand rubbed Jonathan's back. "So you went to work for this chap Bill? But how long had you held out for?"
"Three weeks!"
"That's a long time. I think you showed great determination and courage."
"I don't know about that. But I hold the record for holding out in that cell."
"So what was the work like?"
"Once I accepted, Bill changed. In place of the `I always get me own way' guy, he became considerate, even kind. I received notice of my first payment from him the day I came face to face with him again."
"But you hadn't done any work at all for him."
"True. He said he'd put me on the books the day I went into the cell. That is in some ways typical of the man."
"What was the work like?"
"First, I had to wait until the marks from the beatings faded."
"You don't appear to have any scars. But I don't know about your butt."
Jonathan laughed. "No; they had strict instructions, as much pain as they liked, but no permanent marking of my body. The work? I have a lot of mixed feelings. The punters were all well heeled. Bankers, media men, top lawyers, even a couple of High Court judges! Some M.Ps, and a couple of bishops, and a couple of professional footballers. The two things they had in common was one, they liked sex with boys or young men, and two, they had enough dosh to pay for it."
"Did any of the money come your way?"
"Oh, yes. Bill paid all the Boys a small standard weekly wage. Then we got paid for every punter we went with, and the punters gave us tips, often generous tips. My first tip, was a hundred quid, but that was because the guy, a barrister, had just won a long court case, and he learned that he was my first punter. I never got as much as that again. It was usually twenty quid, or an occasional fifty. There were no expenses, we were fed, clothed and had no rent or heating bills to pay. Some of the punters were nice. There was one old man, we called him Old Roger, well into his eighties, used to come in once a week and give a blow job. It was the best blow job in town! Just took twenty minutes. One other guy was a brute. A married journalist, no consideration for his Boy, and a mean tipper. But I think I was able to put a spanner into his works."
"And all this time you were unable to contact your folk?"
"Not quite. One of the punters, called Ron, was an ex-Boy. He agreed to phone my folk and tell them I was okay."
"So how long did you work for Bill?"
"About five months."
"What happened, were you given the sack, or pensioned off."
"Neither, I escaped. A door was left open, and I ran. Fortunately I was in a coffee bar when a Church of England woman priest came in. We talked, and the long and short of it was she took me back to her apartment for the night, and persuaded me to ring my Grandfather. I met him in Town the following day and he persuaded me to go back with him. And the rest is history as they say."
Jonathan continued to tell his story to Oliver, but the difficult hurdle had been jumped, and Oliver accepted it. Oliver still had many questions to ask.
"The Boys were great. Yes, we had our disagreements, but basically we supported and helped each other. When I got out I missed them a great deal. As I've said the punters were a mixed lot. Some of them were very well educated, all of them high in their profession or doing well with their own business. Quite a lot of them were married."
"That is something I find difficult. I've chatted with guys on the net who are or have been married. Surely they knew the truth about themselves."
"I found that difficult. But things were different not so very long ago. There was the expectation that a guy would marry. Some realise they have made a mistake early on, even on their wedding night. Others realise the truth about themselves when they are older, often in their forties."
"Thanks for telling me all that, Jon. We're a pair! I regret having had no experience, and you regret having too much experience." He stood up. "I think we need a swim, a real swim this time, and then go back home."
They clambered down the path onto the sand, and walked out towards the sea. They walked in silence both deep in thought.
"Not half way to Tahiti this time, Ol."
"No just round Nuie."
"Where on earth is that."
"A small isolated island out there somewhere."
They plunged through the breakers and then swam out into the ocean. The rollers lifted them up and down, as they swam out. Oliver led the way, but not so far or as fast as before. Several hundred yards out they stopped.
Oliver swam closer to Jonathan. "Jon, would you like to stay the night when we get back?"
Jonathan grinned before answering. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"
"Yes. I sleep in a double bed."
"The answer's `yes'.
"Good," said Oliver, and began to swim back to the beach.
Jonathan broke the silence as they walked up the beach. "What will your Mum say?"
"She will accept. She knows that I was thinking of asking you."
"You scheming blighter! You're not just a pretty face."
"She'll probably go round to her sisters for the night. She often does."
They got back to the car, dried themselves, put on their shorts and trainers, and were soon making their way to Oliver's home. On the way back few words were said, though several times they glanced at each other and grinned. Both were looking forward to what they knew was to come.
"Good timing, you lads," said Mrs Franklin as they entered the house. "The meal is ready when you are. So if you want showers, go and have them now. I've put a towel out for you, Jon, on the bath."
Jonathan showered first, as before. He did not take long, and soon he was back downstairs.
"I've told Mum you're staying the night. Do you want to ring Kevin now or later?"
"I'll do it after we've eaten," said Jonathan.
Oliver made his way upstairs to have his shower.
"Good," said Mrs Franklin, " That means we can have a word, Jon. Oliver has told me something about your day, and told me your story is long and complicated and to be told another time. As you know Oliver is my only child. I think his accident, and the years following have made him even more precious to me. Because of his accident he has had very few friends of his own age. He knows little of the ways of the world in some aspects. I know that a lot of gay relationships are extremely transitory. I think, because of his accident and so on, Olly could easily be hurt. I gave up the idea of him possibly marrying years ago, when he began to suspect he was gay. If he was seriously hurt I think it would be a long while before he trusted another man. He obviously likes you very much. He wouldn't have invited you to stay the night otherwise. Do you get what I'm saying?"
"Yes, Mrs Franklin. I confess that I suggested we went swimming that first time, almost as an act of charity. But at the end of the day I realised it was the most enjoyable day I've spent since I arrived in New Zealand. I had difficulty sorting out exactly what I was feeling. I was venturing into new territory for me. I phoned the other day, because I wanted to spend more time with Ol. We've talked a lot, and today a lot about ourselves. We both know where the other is coming from, and I am hoping for a lot more than a one night stand, or a short causal relationship. I don't think at this stage I can say more than that."
"Perhaps I'm being over protective."
"I think that is understandable."
"If you two are serious about each other, then I will move house. My sister is quite a lot older than me, and she is lonely, so I often go to stay with her. I will go there tonight. But I would be more than happy if Ol settled with you, then I know he has somebody when I'm gone."
"Thanks, Mrs Franklin, for being so open."
"I think we should drop the `Mrs Franklin' don't you? My name is Helen."
They could hear Oliver making his way downstairs. Very soon they were sitting down to their meal. When they had finished Oliver and Jonathan started the clearing away, but Helen allowed them no real time alone, as she cleared up round the kitchen.
"I won't stay for coffee. I'll leave the two of you. I'll see you both in the morning." Within a couple of minutes she was out of the house.
Jonathan carried the tray on which were the two cups of coffee into the large room where the grand piano stood. He placed the tray on a low table by the sofa.
"Do you realise this is the first time we have been really alone together. At work there is always the possibility of interruption, on the beach there were the other families around, back here your Mum."
"There was in the car."
"But you were busy driving."
"So?"
"Ol, I want to put my arms round you and give you a kiss."
"What's stopping you?"
"If that's what you feel, nothing." Jonathan stepped up to Oliver, put his arms round him, and gave him a kiss on his lips.
"Do you realise, Jon, that's the first kiss I've ever had from a man."
"I'm afraid I've well and truly lost count."
"No problem. But I'd like another one."
Jonathan gave Oliver another kiss, and this time there was much more response from Oliver.
"I think I could get addicted to kissing you, Jon."
"You only think. I'm already addicted to you."
"But you must remember this is all very new for me." Oliver took Jonathan's hand and led him to the sofa, where the two of them sat down. Jonathan put an arm round Oliver's shoulder. But Jonathan was in a quandary, he did not know how far and how fast Oliver wanted to go. Jonathan knew all the opening gambits from his time at Bill's Place, but that all seemed entirely inappropriate now. Oliver was, on his part, unsure of himself, unsure what he should do.
They sat for several minutes, enjoying their closeness, but both unsure how to proceed. They reminisced about their time in the sea and on the beach, but neither wanted at this stage to raise again the serious matters that had been revealed.
It was Jonathan who broke the logjam. "Are you going to play something for me again?" He nodded towards the piano.
"You want me to? Do you know much about classical music."
"Not a great deal, but I know that when you played for me it sort of spoke to me. I've never been moved by a bit of classical music as I was then. Were you trying to say something?"
"I think I was." Oliver hesitated and blushed slightly. "In the second movement I was trying to say how happy I was, and that I liked you."
"When I thought back over that first day, I thought the first movement expressed what I was feeling a turmoil of emotions."
Oliver smiled. "Could be." He stood up, and this time went over to a small chest of drawers, and opening one, removed a copy of Schubert's Impromptus. "Know these?"
Jonathan shook his head.
Oliver opened the music at Opus 9 Number 4 in A flat major. He sat down at the piano.
Jonathan stood up. The piano stool was a long one, useful for piano teacher and pupil to sit alongside, and for the playing of duets. There was room for Jonathan if he sat back. As he sat down, Oliver gave him a smile.
The piece opened with a cascade of notes. Oliver's hands and fingers moved lightly and quickly over the keyboard.
Jonathan was entranced, his left arm came up and lightly rested on Oliver's hip. The piece continued, into the different key of the middle section. Subconsciously Jonathan's hand began lightly to stroke. Oliver continued to play for a short while, before stopping and turning to Jonathan. "I cannot concentrate on playing with your hand there," he said with a laugh.
"Sorry. I liked that, it's a beautiful piece."
"I like what you're doing with your hand, but it makes me think of other things." He raised his eyes to the roof, with a look as much as to say what about it?
Jonathan nodded.
Oliver stood, and took Jonathan by the hand and led him out of the room to the foot of the stairs. He had only gone up the first two steps, when Jonathan got hold of him, turned him round and placed him on his left shoulder, and began to go up the stairs. Jonathan was surprised just how much Oliver weighed, and then realise there was a lot of muscle from all the swimming on the other man. He began to go up the stairs, his left arm holding Oliver in place, while hauling on the banister with his right hand. By this stage they were both laughing.
"It's years since I was carried up stairs like this. My father used to when I was a kid."
They reached the top of the stairs, and there was now a short landing, and then a corridor of a few feet leading into Oliver's bedroom. On the level Jonathan no longer needed the banister to haul on, so his right hand came across, and landed on Oliver's buttocks. Automatically he started to massage the two mounds of muscle.
"Oh, I like that, Jon. But it is doing something to me!"
"Like when I massaged you on the beach?"
"Exactly."
"Good, that's the state I want you to be in."
Once in the bedroom, Jonathan lowered Oliver on to the bed, and got on to the bed alongside. Oliver was lying, fully clothed on his back, laughing, but very conscious of the mound in the front of his trousers. Jonathan lay on his side, resting on his left elbow, so he could look down into Oliver's face.
"I've now got you where I want you, Mr Franklin."
Oliver giggled. "Good. I'm more than happy that it's you on the bed with me."
Jonathan lowered his head and gave Oliver a kiss. But as be lifted his head Oliver's arms came up and pulled him down again, for a longer more passionate kiss. Jonathan moved so his right leg was between Oliver's legs. He could feel the hard cock pressed against the top of his thigh, and Oliver could feel Jonathan's hardness pressing into him. They continued to kiss, and began to press more into each other.
"Do you know something, Oliver Franklin, every moment I'm with you I love you more."
"I never thought a gorgeous sexy man like you would ever say that to me."
"I never thought I'd fall in love with a guy like you; but I have, hook, line and sinker!" Jonathan moved to the side, and started undoing Oliver's shirt buttons. He remembered how his shirt had been ripped off when he was in Bill's cell, and there was a part of him that would have liked to reveal his own eagerness and to have done the same.
Oliver raised himself, to assist the complete removal of his shirt. He reached up and began to undo Jonathan's shirt buttons. Both garments were soon removed and discarded onto the floor. Oliver's hand started rubbing the hair on Jonathan's chest. "I've been wanting to do that ever since I first saw your chest in the timber yard when you were working."
Jonathan laughed. "You had the hots for me as early as that?"
"Yes. I must have a working gaydar, because, though I liked the look of Josh and Sailor without their shirts, I never wanted to do anything with them."
"Well, it's all yours now. Whenever, however and as frequently as you like."
Jonathan now turned his attention to the belt on Oliver's trousers. He undid the belt, and pulled down the zip. "Now I want to see what you've so carefully kept locked away out of my sight."
"Well; it is all yours."
Jonathan got off the bed and took hold of the bottom of Oliver's trousers and pulled. Oliver lifted himself allowing the removal of the trousers, which we immediately added to the clothes on the floor. Oliver was wearing tight white briefs, and Jonathan noted that there was a large damp patch. He went to remove them as well.
"Take off your trousers, Jon. Or do you want me to do it for you?"
Jonathan was standing by the bed, so he quickly removed his trousers and pants all in one movement. His hard cock was revealed pointing just a few degrees off the vertical.
"Jon, you're beautiful." Oliver wriggled across to the edge of the bed, and reached out and held Jonathan's manhood. His hand felt the cock, and then cupped the balls.
"That's something of what I'm bringing to you." Jonathan clambered onto the bed. His right hand reached down to take hold of Oliver. But that was one step too far, Jonathan felt the cock go into spasm, and three large jets of cum shot into the air, all over Oliver's face and chest.
"I was afraid that'd happen. I'm sorry, Jon."
"What for? It was your first time, almost certain to happen. You'll soon be shooting again. We won't be worrying about little things like premature ejaculations in a year's time." Jonathan bent his head and licked the cum with kisses off every part of Oliver's body where the cum had landed. When he had finished Oliver sat up, and pushed Jonathan down onto his back.
"Now it's my turn. But first, I want to have a good look at you. I've seen plenty of pics, but never had a close look and feel of another guy's cock." He looked closely all around Jonathan's equipment, "That is a wonderful set of tackle. I think that'll keep me occupied for many years."
"Glad you think so,"
Oliver removed his glasses, and then got into position to suck Jonathan.
"You don't have to, Olly."
"I want to. For years I have been fantasising about doing it, and now with you I want to do it even more." He held Jonathan's cock steady, and took it into his mouth. It was not the best suck that Jonathan had ever been given, but it was certainly a good first effort.
"Do you want me to shoot in your mouth?"
"Of course I do. I love you Jonathan Pridham, and your pre cum tastes wonderful, and now I want the full works."
"Carry on like that, and you'll get it."
Oliver tried to delay Jonathan's climax, and partially succeeded, but sooner than he had wanted |Jonathan was rolling around, and then shooting his load into Oliver's mouth. He swallowed much of it, but there was enough in his mouth for him to give Jonathan a very spunky kiss.
"I shall be wanting that as often as possible for at least the next fifty years."
"That all! I was hoping we might get sixty odd years together."
"That would put us both into our eighties."
"Well, we could aim for our nineties."
They lay for several minutes just enjoying being close. Then Jonathan's hand wandered down to feel Oliver's buttocks. "You've got a lovely bum, Ol. Those bum cheeks of yours are firm and round."
"I like your hand there. You got me hard when you put your hand there as we were coming up the stairs."
"I think we shouldn't attempt anything around there tonight; unless you fuck me. The first time often hurts a bit, however careful and gentle I am, and the last thing I want to do tonight is to give you pain and leave you with a sore arse, which you are bound to have the first time."
"I'm in your hands. It will give us something to look forward to."
"If we are going to have the rest of our lives together, then we can take that at a slower pace. I'm just enjoying how we are. I shall be wanting to suck you, Ol, soon."
"Good. I think I could get quite addicted to being sucked by you."
"Now let me do it then. On your back, Ol, open your legs wide." Jonathan positioned himself on his stomach with his face in position to kiss, suck and lick. Jonathan paid attention to the whole area. He stopped once. He looked up at Oliver. "I think we are really compatible, Or at least you are compatible to me, I hope I am in the same way for you."
"What do you mean? I have enjoyed every thing we've done so far."
"There is another element, that is for a lot very important, and rarely mentioned."
"What is that?"
"Pheromones. I like your smell, your scent. I want more of it. It turns me on."
"But we had a shower surely that removed it. Don't I smell of shower gel?"
"You did when we started, but that is wearing off. I am now beginning to smell the real Oliver Franklin. It is not your sweat, though I don't find that off putting. This is the smell of your body, and I like it."
"Did some of the men at Bill's place put you off because of it?"
"Some did. Most had on various sprays and powders that tended to cover their real scent." Jonathan buried his face into Oliver's crotch and sniffed. "Yes, I like that."
So the night passed. There were periods of love making, sessions of talking, each delighting in the other. It must have been well after two in the morning when they both drifted off to sleep.
Oliver woke as the first light of the new day began to penetrate into the room. He got out of bed, and tried not to disturb Jonathan. He went and stood at the window, looking out to the east, where he could see the Pacific three miles away. The sky was steadily brightening.
But he had disturbed Jonathan who came awake, and on opening his eyes, saw the naked Oliver standing at the window. He got off the bed, and came and stood alongside Oliver, putting an arm round his shoulder.
Oliver moved closer, and the two of them exchanged smiles. "I love this moment. The sun coming up out of the ocean, especially when there are no clouds, as it will be today."
The sky continued to brighten, and then the first rays of the rising sun shone across the waters, and lit the faces of the two men standing at the window.
"So begins day three," say Oliver.
"Day three?"
"Yes; our third day together. We have had two days at the beach, I wonder what this day will bring?"
"More joy of being together, I'm sure." Jonathan dropped his hand and felt Oliver's buttocks.
"I like it when you do that, Jon. But I really do want more. You enjoyed it when I was in you. What was it - three times during the night?"
"Something like that. I liked you being in there too."
"I know. It was obvious you were enjoying it, and now I want you to get into me."
"But however careful I am it will hurt you a bit, and you will be sore for sometime after."
"So you say. I want to be hurt that way by you. I want to feel sore because that wonderful cock of yours has been deep inside me, because I know that that has to be so I can begin to enjoy you as you enjoyed me."
"If that's what you really want. Now?"
"Yes, now. This morning before breakfast."
"Okay then. I will be as gentle as I can."
Jonathan took time preparing Oliver with his fingers. He decided doggie fashion was the best position for this first time. Oliver gave a sharp intake of breath when Jonathan's cock head passed through his sphincter.
"Sorry, my love. Just relax, the more you relax, the easier it will be." He felt Oliver willing himself to relax. He felt Oliver's muscles slowly relaxing, and the grip on his cock slightly ease. Then with careful slowness he pushed his cock in.
"I feel very full."
"You are, my love. You've got my whole cock in you now. It can't go any further." Jonathan began to make some small movements, not only in and out but so his cock began to move around.
"I like that. It feels really good."
Jonathan lent over and kissed Oliver's back. "Now try to lie flat, and I'll try to keep in you. We both can relax more then."
Slowly the manoeuvre was completed. Jonathan and Oliver now were just able to exchange kisses, and Jonathan was able to nibble and whisper into Oliver's ear. "Now you are mine, as I'm yours."
"Till death us do part."
"In at least fifty, hopefully sixty or seventy years time."
"I wonder how many times we will make love, and where, and whether we will be able to do it in our old age."
"When we are both a couple of rheumatic, bad tempered, viagra assisted old men."
Jonathan knew that the longer he stayed with his cock in Oliver the more sore Oliver would be. He began to thrust, and did not try to hold back, and soon gave Oliver his additional gift.
They lay together, and both drifted off to sleep. It was nine o'clock when they came back to consciousness.
Oliver turned to Jonathan. "I need a pee, a shit, a shave, a shower, and my stomach is wanting some grub."
"You certainly call a spade a spade. I'm the same. Let's start moving."
An hour later they were downstairs having a breakfast. They were using every excuse to touch each other. They sat wearing just shirts and shorts and with bare feet eating their breakfast. Their feet touched and then stroked each other almost without thinking. When they had finished eating they washed up. Oliver stood at the sink, while Jonathan did the wiping up.
Jonathan's hand went round Oliver's shoulder, and then down his back to his buttocks. "How you feeling down there?"
"A little sore. But I like it, because every time I feel it, it reminds me of what we have both done. I shall be wanting you there again, perhaps not again today, possibly tomorrow, certainly the day after." Oliver flicked his hands to remove the excess water, and turned to put his arms round Jonathan.
"Thanks, Jon, for coming into my life. I'm glad you had that terrible experience in Bill's prison cell, and so on, because if that had not been you would be studying at some Brit Uni, and we never would've met."
"Thank you, Ol, for being who and what you are. I never thought I would feel for another person what I feel for you."
They stood close, making maximum bodily contact, with their arms round each other, exchanging passionate kisses.
It was at that moment that Helen Franklin came and stood in the doorway. Oliver was facing in that direction, saw her, and gave her a wave. She gave a slight cough announcing her presence. Jonathan just turned his face and gave her a rather embarrassed grin.
"And some say two men cannot love each other. The sight of you two would soon put paid to that idea."
Jonathan and Oliver broke their clinch and turned towards Helen, though they continued to hold hands.
"You two look very happy."
"We are, Mum."
"I thought there was something special between the two of you, that first evening, when you played the Beethoven Pathetique sonata. I've heard it so many times, the first time when you played it at a snail's pace, and many times since. But the other evening you put your heart and soul into it. It was different."
Jonathan stepped over to Helen, and put his arms round her. "I want to thank you for Olly. I guess he owes more to you than to anyone. Thank you for your contribution to making him what he is – perfect."
"I don't know about that! He has his moments. He's not a bad lad really. But thank you for saying that, Jon. He has a lot to give."
Jonathan turned towards Oliver, and they caught each other's eye. First they grinned, then they giggled.
"Oh, you men! All you can think about is sex!"
Traditional fairy tales all seem to end with the formula, `and they lived happily ever after.' And so, reader, this is the point to draw to a close this long story. Jonathan found his man, not his ideal of physical perfection, the sport-loving guy he so often had in mind; but someone far better, a man who in character was utterly compatible who will draw out the best in him, and to whom he will he will give much over the coming years.
This story stretches further back, it really began with the dawn of the third Millennium when Simon trod on Malcolm's toe at the New Year firework display at Whitgest.
This story could go on, and in my mind there have been possibilities, I will share those with you, but you may have your own ideas, or may embellish in fantasy from where I leave off. Several readers have written with guesses and suggestions as to how the plot should develop.
I would like to share with you my thoughts.
This is also largely Malcolm's story. Chink will continue to live with him. Stephen and Paula will guess the nature of their relationship; but Michael and Lois will have no idea. They will be grateful and surprised at what Chink has brought into Malcolm's life, keeping the old man full of life, though not realising the important role of viagra! Chink will regard it as a second heaven having Malcolm and often Simon as partners.
Jonathan and Oliver will go to Sydney for a long weekend at the end of March 2010. Together they will explore some of that city's gay activities. Oliver will take Jonathan to a concert and an opera [La Traviata] at the Opera House, as an essential part of his education into classical music.
In the summer they will make a six week visit to the U.K. They will be met at Heathrow by Malcolm and Chink. They will stay with Malcolm for most of the time, except when Jonathan is taking Oliver to other parts of the country, and for a weekend in Paris. Jonathan's mother Lois, will immediately sense the essentially beneficent quality of the two men's relationship. She will like Oliver, and her mothering instincts will again come to the fore. Michael will be cautious at first, but his reserve will weaken during their stay. Plans will be made for Lois and Malcolm to visit New Zealand after Christmas 2011. Kevin and Owen will come over for a three week visit. They too will stay with Malcolm for most of their time. Malcolm will complain that he cannot move upstairs in his house for naked men! Whether any sexual contact is made between Jonathan and Chink, and Oliver and Chink, I leave my readers to fantasise or not. Though I would be interested to hear what you think. Jonathan will play several games of cricket for Whitgest.
Back in New Zealand they will eventually take over the timber business from Oliver's uncle. Jonathan's entrepreneurial genes will clock in, and they will do well.
Jonathan will continue to play cricket for several years, and Oliver will become a scorer for the local side.
Several readers have asked about this story. Whitgest is roughly based on the village of Whitwell in Hertfordshire, where I lived for four years long, long ago! Pictures of Whitwell can be found if you Google – Whitwell Hertfordshire.
I am planning to go to Australia and New Zealand Feb-May. I shall be keeping an eye open for Jonathan and Olly!