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.
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My thanks to John and Michael who have read this through and made a number of corrections and suggestions. Any remaining errors, grammatical, spelling or historical or whatever are entirely my fault.
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 messages.
Two Jubilees and One Spitfire.
Resume:- Trevor is working at the University of Auckland in New Zealand, and has met Ross, who is an author.
Two Jubilees and One Spitfire. Part 36. Pins in the map
Trevor stayed in New Zealand for the next five years.
Ross had driven them both back to Whangarei after their visit to Tane Mahuta. They had argued about religion the whole way, Trevor arguing for Christianity and Ross taking an atheist's position.
Trevor collected his car and they drove in convoy back to Auckland. They had agreed that Ross would come round to Trevor's for a meal, and stay the night. When he arrived Trevor was busy putting the final touches to the meal.
"I've brought round a copy of my first book for you to read," said Ross.
"Thanks!" said Trevor distractedly. He was busy making a white sauce.
Ross wandered off to explore Trevor's apartment. He went into Trevor's bedroom and found the collection of photographs and the Spitfire. He looked at the photographs. He worked out that the man in the dark suit and wearing the black hat must be Isaac. He looked very formal and strict, rather removed from the Isaac as Trevor had described him. The young man in the army uniform must be Eric, who had been killed saving Trevor's life in Korea. Ross lifted the photograph to look at it more closely. "Thank you mate," he muttered. It went through his mind that there might be the basis of a book around that incident, though without the sexual theme. He looked at the clergyman and his family. That must be Paul, and the small boy Trevor's godchild, the young Trevor. The man in the kilt was Fergus. And the grinning African tucking his shirt into his trousers was the irrepressible Kundi. He picked up the Spitfire and examined it. He took it through to the kitchen.
"Did you make this?" asked Trevor.
"No. That was made by my first love, Harry. The Somerset boy, a few years older than me, who I used to toss off. It's got a bit battered. Young Zach used to play with it."
"Young Zach, another of your loves?"
"Good Lord, no. He's only four. I'm not into young boys. I like men, at the moment a special Kiwi man. Tall, slim with a lovely body, and a prick I just can't get enough of."
They laughed and kissed quickly, then Trevor continued preparing the meal.
They had fallen into a ritual whereby the person cooking the meal did not do the washing up. So after they had eaten Ross was at the kitchen sink washing the dishes, and Trevor was tidying up. He saw the bound copy of Ross' book. He opened it and flicked through the pages. Then he looked inside the cover. There he read, `To Trevor who has brought love and joy back into my life." As Trevor read, his eyes moistened. He walked through into the kitchen and put his arms round Ross. "I've just read what you've written inside the book. Thank you, love. I hope I can live up to that."
"The thanks are all mine, Trev." They hugged and kissed for so long that the washing up water was too cold to continue, and Ross had to heat some more water.
They continued the pattern of their time near Whangarei, meeting in each other's home on alternate nights. They both worked hard. Ross soon completed his book and sent it off to his publisher. Trevor had to get his book typed out again properly so that it could be sent off to England for publication. They thought their relationship had deepened when they spent their first night together in each other's arms, without making love in the fullest sense of the words.
On Thursday the 4th June 1964 Trevor celebrated his thirty-second birthday. He woke up to find Ross leaning over him with a broad grin on his face.
"Happy birthday, Trev." He reached under the bed a pulled out a parcel and an envelope containing a card.
"How did you know it was my birthday?"
"I wrote to Isaac to find out."
"How did you know his address?"
"You write to him every week, and have asked me to post the airmail often enough, so I knew his address. I knew you had told him about me, so I wrote and asked him. He told me to give you a special present from him."
"And what was that?"
"He said he would have liked to have been here with you to give it to you himself. He told me to suck your cock to the very best of my ability."
Trevor laughed. "Pity it's a Thursday. Can we save Isaac's present until this evening when we won't have to watch the clock? We've only got time for a quick kiss and cuddle."
When Trevor got back from the University in the late afternoon he found Ross busy preparing a special meal. A couple of gay friends they had made had been invited, so it was quite late before Ross was able to give Trevor Isaac's birthday present.
"You do that as well as Isaac, and that's the biggest compliment I can pay you."
"You know why that is?" asked Ross.
Trevor shook his head.
"Because for us both you are the great love of our lives."
"I'm so glad I came to New Zealand."
"Tane Mahuta does all things well," said Ross.
They continued to argue about everything under the sun, and especially about who should move in with whom. There were different advantages and disadvantages with both of their places. Eventually after three months they compromised by looking for somewhere which would be large enough for them both to have individual space and to be comfortable. They soon found somewhere and at the beginning of August they moved into a bungalow in Blockhouse Bay. They continued to take turns in the cooking of the evening meal, and other household duties. They did not argue about these as they said that they were too busy arguing about other things. When they were not arguing they were laughing, and just enjoying being together. There was a lot of touching, intimate and otherwise.
Ross had decided that it was his job to show his country off to Trevor. They had two weekends in Rotorua. On the second they got permission from the Maori authorities to go up Mount Tarawera. The mountain had split open, like an overripe tomato in a volcanic eruption in 1886. They camped near the mountain, and at Ross' insistence had made love at the bottom of one of the craters amid all the red, black and white pumice. It was not a very relaxed lovemaking as there was the possibility that someone would come along and peer down over the edge of the crater at them.
Shortly after they had moved in together Trevor saw that Ross had put up a large map of New Zealand. There were small red pins stuck in some profusion in the north of the North Island, but none further south.
"What do they mark?" asked Trevor.
"Work it out," replied Ross with a broad grin. He sat back in his chair with his arms behind his head and watched as Trevor examined the map closely.
There were three pins stuck in Auckland. There was one on the coast east of Whangarei, another near the Bay of Islands, and a couple close together near the west coast. There were a couple near Rotorua, and one near Waitamo.
"I know," said Trevor triumphantly. "They all marks places where we've made love."
Ross jumped to his feet, and hugged Trevor and kissed him. "Yes, my love, and I want to cover the whole of that map with pins."
"Good. That's more than fine by me."
Ross liked making love in the open air. Trevor had done it before, with Isaac in Epping Forest early on. He had done it with Con also in Epping Forest, and with Fergus on Ben Reshipol and other places in that part of Scotland. But it was different with Ross. As they walked side by side Ross' hand would reach across and give Trevor's nearest buttock a squeeze.
"I know what you want," Trevor would say.
"I suppose you've gone off me?"
"Whatever made you think that?"
"It's simply ages since we made love."
"Two or three hours at the most!"
A secluded place would be found. They both enjoyed the warmth of the sun
and the feel of the a gentle breeze wafting over their bodies. Each tried to answer and satisfy the other's needs.
Trevor, not to be outdone, soon started taking the initiative.
"You're a randy sod for a Pom. I thought all of you were uptight and respectable," Ross might say.
"Well, this one has been corrupted and led astray by an insatiable Kiwi."
The pins in Ross' map began to spread.
That Christmas Ross took Trevor home. They drove south to Wellington, and leaving the car there, caught the ferry across to Picton. Trevor was entranced by the beauty and peacefulness of the scenery as the ferry glided up the Sounds.
Trevor had mixed feelings as he looked towards meeting Ross' folk. On one hand he was looking forward to meeting them; but on the other hand he was meeting them as their son's acknowledged lover.
"Will we be able to sleep together," he asked Ross.
"We'd better. I shall move out if Mum has not given us a double bed," was Ross' reply.
Ross' father met them at Picton. Trevor immediately saw that Ross took after his father. Alan James was almost as tall as his son. He had a weather-beaten face from working so much in the open air.
"Good to meet you, Trev," he said, giving Trevor a firm hand shake. "This guy has written home a lot about you. Good to put a face to a name." There was no embarrassment in the meeting.
Alan insisted that Trevor sit in the front with him as they drove the fifty miles to Ross' home. He asked a lot of questions about the `old country'.
When the car drew up outside the homestead Ross' mother came running out. Ada James was a tall, ample woman. She was all eyes for Trevor. Her welcome was heartfelt. Trevor immediately felt at home.
They had been given a bedroom with a double bed. "Told you so," remarked Ross.
It was early evening when Ross beckoned to Trevor. "I want to take you to somewhere special." He led the way down the track a short way and then cut down through thick bush. It was a barely discernable path. "It's got overgrown, as I haven't been using it much over recent years." It was a steep scramble down. Eventually they arrived at a secluded spot by a river. The rocks were flat and the river shallow, before plunging over a ten foot high waterfall into a deep pool. "This is my special spot. I don't think the others know about it. We can sunbathe, swim, talk.."
"And make love, if I know anything about you, Ross!"
"It is an ideal spot for a long, quiet, gentle fuck. All warmed by the sunshine."
"And get bitten by the sand-flies."
"You should be immune to them by now, you softy old Pom." Ross stripped off, and revealed a rapidly hardening cock. "Swim and a fuck, or a fuck and a swim?"
"Swim and a fuck," answered Trevor.
"The pool is deep enough to dive into." Ross went and stood on by the waterfall and dived into the water below.
Trevor was still struggling to remove his socks and pants. He followed. They played around in the cool water, laughing, trying to duck each other, or to grope each other in intimate places.
Ross swam over to Trevor and caught hold of him. "Enough of all this. I want you desperately."
"I'm all yours."
They got out of the pool, and scrambled up on to the flat rocks above the waterfall.
Ross reached into a pocket and pulled out a jar of lubricant. They made love slowly and gently that evening. As Ross deposited a full load of love juice into Trevor he whispered. "Now I have brought you home. We've made love in my special place; and you are mine."
"And you are mine too," said Trevor. "For ever."
The sun set, and the temperature began to drop. They began to make their way back up the steep slope to the track. "I always reckoned to get up to the track without stopping. Let's see who's the fittest, the Pom or the Kiwi."
They raced to the top, and arrived breathless together at the track.
"Nothing in it," said Ross.
"But I was handicapped," announced Trevor.
"In what way?" replied Ross, with a puzzled look on his face.
"I was weighed down by that load of Kiwi spunk you deposited in my arse."
Ross laughed, and grabbed Trevor, and gave him a kiss. The last of the evening light was just in the sky when they arrived back at the house.
Trevor met the other members of Ross' family over the next few days. The one thing he did find very strange was to have the main Christmas meal as a barbecue down by the nearby river.
One evening just after Christmas Trevor found himself sitting with Ada on a bench on the veranda outside the house. The sun was beginning to sink towards the hills to the west. They sat for a while in silence, drinking in the beauty of the scene.
"You've put Ross back on course again," said Ada.
"What do you mean?"
"Ross as a boy was always great fun. He used to tease his older brothers unmercifully. He was not like them, into games and so on. Unlike them he did really well at school. He read a lot, which gave him a verbal dexterity that was witty, and at times rather cruel to his brothers. But when Stephen was killed in that road accident it was as though a light went out in Ross. He came back home, and was almost a recluse while writing that second book of his. In all his other books in spite of all odds the good men win, evil is thwarted. But that second book has a black shadow of evil over it. It is full of heart-wrenching sadness. The end is ambiguous. I presume you've read it?"
"Yes. Ross has given me a copy of all his books. I found that one quite depressing. I'm glad I did not read it first. I might not've wanted to read any more of them."
"Exactly. The subsequent books are better, don't you think?"
"Yes. He writes very well."
"That light remained out in him until he met you." Ada turned slightly and put her hand on Trevor's. "He wrote telling me about you, when you both got back to Auckland. I knew straight away that he was his old self again. He said that first time he saw you emerging naked like Poseidon from the sea that you were special."
"I've never been likened to a Greek god before," commented Trevor, with a laugh.
"Then something obviously significant happened when you were at that special tree in the forest."
Trevor wondered just how much Ross had told his mother. "It was almost a religious experience."
"I think you are well suited. You are a joy to watch together. When the two of you are arguing, which seems to be quite a lot of the time, you are like puppies mock fighting each other. You say things, your bodies say things, but your eyes say something different. You two love each other, and it is good to see, and I am so thankful to you, Trevor, for putting the light back into Ross' life. It has been good for Alan and me to have you here. I hope you will always feel at home. I hope you don't mind me saying so but we feel you are our son-in-law."
"Ada, that's one of the nicest things I've had said to me. Yes, I love your son. It was all so sudden, unexpected. I never dreamt that I would meet a tall lanky Kiwi and fall in love with him."
"I don't think he dreamt of falling in love with an Englishman. I was tempted to call you a Pom, but that is rather an Aussie term, and abusive," said Ada.
"Ross sometimes calls me a Pom when I'm getting the better of an argument."
Ada laughed. "I know, I've heard him."
"But Ada, I'd like to say thank you to you and Alan. I've felt so at home in your house. I don't know what Ross has told you about my story. My father held our family together, Mum was rather inadequate, God bless her.
Dad was killed in the London blitz. I wish I'd known him better. Things went to pieces after that. Mum just could not cope. I was sexually abused by one of her boy friends."
"Oh, Trev, I didn't know that!"
"It's all a long and complicated story, with good coming out of bad. I was adopted by Isaac, a Jewish refugee from Austria. I owe almost everything except life itself to him. So you see, from the age of eleven onwards I've never lived in a home with a mother. I came near to it when I lived with the Bamfords for three years while I was doing my Ph.D. at Nottingham. I think I'm not just saying thank you for your acceptance of me. But thank you for being a mother figure. Ross was very, very fortunate to have you two as parents. Many men, like Ross and myself, find hostility, rejection and sometimes violence from their families. You have not just accepted the truth about Ross, but you have accepted me, his lover, as well."
They sat holding hands in silence, watching the sun set behind the hills.
"I knew Ross was different quite early on. Mothers can sort of sense these things. I said to Alan, `Ross is different from the other boys.' This was when he was quite young. We discussed it. I puzzled about it for a long while. Then one day it suddenly came to me. I began to wonder if he was one of those men who do not fall in love with a woman but with a man. The more I thought the more I came to believe that I might be right. I started to try and find out more about homosexuality. It was difficult, very few books, and most of them hostile, saying it was a deliberate evil,
or an illness, or a handicap. I had to do some careful thinking on my own. I could not see that it was a deliberate evil. Ross did not choose to be the way he is. I'm sure you didn't too."
"No. I think I was made this way."
"Exactly. I think it is possible to do things that are wrong, as it is possible for normal people – I don't like that word, but I don't know what word to use. The two of you are thoroughly normal men, just not the same as the majority in one important aspect of your lives. Both sorts of men can be cruel, abusive to those weaker than themselves and so on. I saw my role as helping Ross when he began to realize what was going on in himself. We had to support him, and love him, and accept him. If the good Lord made him that way we should do no other."
"Ross was fortunate to have such understanding and loving parents. I know my parents loved me, but I lost them both at an early age. Straight away I knew that Isaac loved me, and still loves me."
Darkness brought a slight breeze.
"It's beginning to get cool out here. Shall we go in?" Ada led the way into the house, and they joined Alan and Ross who were sitting at the kitchen table talking.
They chatted for a further half an hour.
"I think I should be going to bed," said Alan standing up.
"I'm certainly ready for bed," said Ross, and Trevor nodded in agreement. They stood up.
Ross went over to his mother and gave her a hug and a kiss goodnight, as was his custom. Then he turned to his father and gave his father a hug and kiss, "Good night, Dad."
Trevor went over to Ada, and put his arms round her and gave her a kiss. "Thanks for the chat, and for everything."
Ada returned his kiss. "Good night son, if I may call you that."
Trevor gave her another kiss, and then turned to go upstairs.
"Don't I get a goodnight hug, Trev?"
Trevor blushed slightly, and turned back to give Alan a hug. "Thanks for everything - - Dad."
"I never thought I'd have an English son in law," said Alan with a grin.
Trevor and Ross left the room and began to go upstairs.
Alan called out after them, "And don't keep us awake all night with the creaking of bedsprings."
"I tested it out five minutes after we arrived, and there is no creaking of bed springs. And we don't want to be kept awake by any bed springs twanging from your room."
Everybody laughed. Within ten minutes there was silence in the house. Both couples were soon held in their partner's arms and falling asleep.
Ross had arranged for himself and Trevor to borrow the family car for a couple of weeks so that he could show Trevor something of the South Island. That was the reason he gave to his parents.
"I want to stick more pins into my map back in Auckland!" was the reason he gave to Trevor. They would already have to be a cluster of pins in the immediate area of Ross' home.
They drove down the west side of the South Island, camping each night, though often buying a meal in a nearby town. They even managed a quickie on the Fox Glacier. It had to be quick as the sun had just set, and there was a cold wind blowing down from the snowfields on the mountains. They drove back up the east side of the island.
The relationship of the two men seemed to have repercussions in their working life. Trevor found an increased enjoyment and satisfaction in the lecturing and tutoring side of his University work. He now found a great ease and fluency in his writing. Soon a second more popular book was on the production line.
Then Ross made a suggestion. "You're enjoying writing! Why don't you write a book about your time in New Zealand. A travel book, an assessment of the country. I going to make sure you see a lot of it."
"Just so you can stick in more red pins."
Ross laughed. "I like sticking in something longer, thicker, warmer and more personally intimate than a red pin."
"Yes, I know all about that. My arse is perpetually sore."
Ross also found that he was writing more easily, and soon another book was being written more rapidly than any of the previous ones.
"It's coming so easily, Trev. I'm worried that the standard of my writing has deteriorated."
"I'll answer that when you let me read it." Ross would not allow Trevor to read any of his books until he had at least finished the first draft.
Trevor was asked to give lectures outside Auckland University. He travelled down to Wellington, and to Dunedin. He was asked to go over to Sydney to give four lectures, and conduct a seminar. Often Ross went with him, paying his own way.
"I'm not going to let you alone near any of those over-sexed Aussies, Trev, my love."
"Pity," said Trevor, "I was hoping to see if Aussies were more over sexed than a certain Kiwi I know. It's a wonder his prick is not worn away the use he makes of it."
Trevor lived well within his University income, but there was other money coming in from his writing and lecturing elsewhere. There was still a little left from the legacy Nanny Flora had left him years before. He had only dipped into that to buy his car. Trevor invested these moneys in the stock market. At first Isaac had directed him where to place his investments. Increasingly Isaac's role was becoming that of an advisor, whose advice was not always followed. Though there was a problem controlling his affairs in London from the other side of the world, Trevor's investments slowly but surely grew.
There continued to be a weekly exchange of letters between New Zealand and Israel. In spite of air mail they seemed to take a while, three or four days longer than airmails from the UK. These letters contained both personal news and a discussion of financial matters. Isaac was still working in Israel for the London based Merchant Bank, and both Trevor and Isaac used it for their financial activities.
The exchange of letters with Paul was on a monthly basis. Paul was now vicar of his first parish, in downtown Bradford. He was working very hard, but finding it rewarding. Trevor wrote to Kundi and Fergus every two or three months. Fergus still had his male nurse partner, though they did not live together. Kundi seemed to be fathering a succession of children, but had also found a young man at work. `He knows the best ways of using his dong, and we do it together as often as we can,' wrote Kundi.
Trevor also wrote regularly to Gloria and Zach, sending little line drawings to Zach. He also sent them both generous money gifts for birthdays and Christmas. The letters back from Gloria were very short, and usually contained a painting done by Zach especially for him.
Trevor got his work extended for a further couple of years without any problem.
There was one matter over which they did not argue. It was far too important for that. What was to happen when Trevor's time at Auckland University came to an end. Should he stay on in the country, or should he return to England? One thing they were both sure about was that they were not going to be parted. The parting from Kundi had been hard enough Trevor was determined not to go through that again.
"My prick's found where he likes to be, and he's not going to let you get away."
It was January 1968 and Trevor and Ross were on a camping trip in the far north. They had discussed whether to go back to Tane Mahuta, but decided not to.
"It will seem an anti-climax, after what happened last time," said Ross. Trevor agreed.
They went to the very far north. The emotional northern most point of New Zealand is Cape Reigna. The actual physical northern most point is somewhere along a line of cliffs further to the east. It is at the north west corner of the north Island, where the Pacific Ocean meets the Tasman Sea. A headland reaches out into the sea, on it stands a pohutukawa tree, which at that time of the year is covered in red blossom. The Maoris believed that the souls of the dead rested beneath the tree before passing on to their homeland. It was another mystical spot. Ross and Trevor had bumped their way along miles of unsealed road to get there. They were alone. They stood looking down at the tree with their arms round each other.
They moved to find a spot where they could pitch their tent for the night. They found a level patch of ground looking down at the sea, and facing west. They could see Cape Maria Van Deiman to the south, jutting out into the Tasman Sea with a couple of rocky islands lying off shore. They erected the tent, and made themselves a meal. The wind dropped as the sun began to sink towards the sea. It was warm, so they lay outside naked in the sun.
Once again, yet again, they began to discuss what they should do. Trevor had come to love New Zealand. It was such a beautiful country, he'd been made so welcome, but above all it was Ross' homeland and he was not going to leave him, whatever Double O'Brien might say. But there was the call of his homeland: he knew he would have to go back, at least to settle things like the house in Leytonstone. For Ross New Zealand was his homeland, his family was here, and his parents were getting older. But he had seen very little of the world. He had an increasing feeling he could not write many more books centered in New Zealand. He needed to travel in order to get fresh experiences and new locations for his writing. They went over the arguments both ways. They lay there watching the sun begin to set.
"This world of ours is getting smaller ever year," said Ross. "It was not so long ago that Francis Chichester made the first solo flight from New Zealand to Australia in a gypsy moth flying from island to island, to Norfolk Island, and Lord Howe Island, and then on to Australia. It was regarded as a great achievement, and it was in those days. But when you went to Sydney the other week you did it in one hop. The flights to England involve fewer hops almost every year."
"So?"
"I've made up my mind. I'm coming to England with you."
"You sure?" asked Trevor.
"I shall want to come back here from time to time to see my folk. But I can afford it. I need to see the world, Trevor."
"I look forward to getting a big map of the United Kingdom so I can stick pins all over it."
"Why not? That's only fair."
Trevor turned to Ross and put his arm round him and kissed him gently. "I love you Ross James. I love every part of you. And I want to show you." He began by kissing Ross' face. Their cocks hardened and pressed together. Then Trevor began to move down, kissing his way into Ross' arm pits and licking his nipples, and giving them a gentle nip with his teeth. Ross stroked Trevor's hair and felt his ears. Still Trevor worked his way down over Ross' body. He kept stopping to mutter, "I love you, Ross." Ross murmured back, "Love you too, Trev."
Trevor's kisses arrived at Ross' pubic hair. "I'm coming to the special place." He thrust his tongue between Ross balls and thigh. He kissed his perineum. He licked and kissed his way up and down Ross' cock several times.
"Do you know, Ross, you've got the most beautiful cock in the whole world."
Ross laughed. "I suppose you've seen every one! Anyway I know it's not true, yours is the best one in the world."
"Think of it, the two best cocks together."
His mouth went back to sucking Ross' cock. Slowly, without any further word, Trevor brought Ross to his climax.
Immediately, without saying anything more, Ross positioned himself, and brought Trevor to his climax.
"The contract's sealed then?" said Ross.
"We're both going to England?"
"Yes, sealed with our precious spunk, freely, lovingly and abundantly given."
It was a warm night, and they lay outside the tent with only a light covering over them. They lay close, with arms around each other, and watched the circling stars.
There was a shooting star. "An excess of spunk in the firmament on its way to a heavenly rag," said Ross.
"I like that. A good misquotation of Christopher Fry," murmured Trevor.
Jeff at jeffyrks@hotmail.com