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Two Jubilees and One Spitfire.
Resume:- Trevor and his New Zealand partner have made the decision to settle back in the UK.
Two Jubilees and One Spitfire. Part 37. Back in the old country.
The decision made in the far north that evening early in 1967 just moved the focus of discussion on. Double O'Brien told Trevor he had to get his application in late in the autumn term; that was no problem. But he had to be back in England available for interview early in the new year. Ross and Trevor decided that they would spend Christmas with Ross' family, south west of Blenheim on the South Island. Trevor would return to London as soon after New Year's Day as possible. Ross decided that he did not want to get to London quickly, but to use the opportunity to see something of the world. Trevor encouraged him in this, as he had fears that the house in Leytonstone might not be in a good state to welcome Ross. There had been no decorating, and minimum maintenance done to it for well over five years.
October and November were a time of frantic activity for both Trevor and Ross. They had to pack up, decide what was to go to England, what was to go to Ross' home, and what could and should be thrown away. Application forms had to be filled in. It was plural because Trevor decided to apply for three different jobs: he was not going to put all his eggs into the one Nottingham basket.
It was mid December when one heavily laden car left Auckland on the journey south. Trevor was very sad to be leaving New Zealand, Aotearoa - the Land of the Long White Cloud, as the Maoris called it. His time in New Zealand had been good. His career was flourishing. He had enjoyed the life and country, but above all there was Ross. As the car pulled away from their home Trevor's eyes moistened. He put a hand on Ross' thigh, "Love you, Ross. We're leaving our first home. So many wonderful memories and times together."
Ross, who was driving, turned and gave Trevor a quick grin. "True. But don't leave your hand on my thigh, or we'll have to stop for a quick shag."
"We can't make love," said Trevor, pulling his hand away, "Your map is in one of the packing cases on its way to London."
"I can always remember and stick in more pins when we get to London."
They broke their journey south by staying a night in Taupo, at one of the new motels that were beginning to spring up in New Zealand. For the first time for a couple of months they were not conscious of a list of things that they had to do. They ate in a restaurant, and made their way slowly back to the motel. They went into their rooms, and locked the door.
They fell into each other's arms.
"I want to show you, Ross James, just how much I love you."
"I think I've been looking forward to having un-pressured time together for about three months. We've got nothing to do except enjoy each other and get some rest."
"I'll sleep a lot better, if my cock has done the necessary first." Trevor began to undress Ross. He ran his hand across Ross' naked chest, and licked to moisten Ross' nipples and then blew on them. They immediately responded.
He undid Ross' belt, and lowered his trousers. Ross' prick was hard, and there was a moist patch at the summit of his tenting underwear. This Trevor removed and thrust his face into Ross' crotch. He licked and kissed his balls and all around, before focusing his attention on the magnificent prick. Ross' glans was large. Trevor once had said that it was a real good mouthful. It now filled his mouth, and Trevor's tongue licked and poked into the opening, receiving the drops of pre-cum onto his tongue.
After several minutes, Ross pulled Trevor to his feet, and undressed him.
When he was naked he took him by the hand and led him to the bed. Their clothes lay, for once, untidily discarded on the floor.
They lay on the bed face to face, cock to cock. More words of love were said. Their time together was gentle and prolonged. There was now a mature understanding between them. Sometimes, and for a long while, one would kiss, lick, touch and stroke, doing those things that gave most pleasure to the other one. The other would just respond with sounds of appreciation and murmurs of encouragement. Sometimes they just lay together, limbs entwined, still and silent, content to be in each other's arms. There were occasions when they were both tired when they would drop off to sleep, content and fulfilled. That night in Taupo was one of those nights.
The next night was spent staying with some friends in the Newtown part of Wellington. The next morning they took the ferry across the Cook Strait to Picton. It was again a wonderful warm still day. Surrounded by such beauty Trevor felt as though Aotearoa - the Land of the Long White Cloud, was crying out to him 'Why are you leaving me?'
The James family always made a special point of coming together for the few days of Christmas. Trevor was now a fully accepted member of the family. Any reservations that Ross' brothers and sisters-in-law may have had with regards to his relationship with Ross and his being from the old country had long since gone. The grandchildren, and there were many of them as Ross' brothers were all very fecund, all loved Trevor. He was not given a moment of peace whether from the toddlers wanting him to make sand pies or the teenagers wanting him to assist damming a stream or to play cricket. Trevor's thoughts began to think more and more of England. He was looking forward to seeing his friends again, but especially his godson, Paul and Lizzie Driffield's eldest, young Trevor. Also there was Zach; his charwoman Gloria's son. Zach would be nine. He was sure he was remembered by both the boys, but how would their relationships resume?
It was after Christmas, the evening before he began his journey back to England, that he sat again with Ada James on the bench outside, watching the sunset.
"Are you looking forward to getting back to England?" asked Ada.
"Yes, and no. Yes, I am looking forward to getting back and seeing old friends. It is time for my career to take the next step. But I am so sorry to be leaving New Zealand. This is such a beautiful country. Over the last two or three weeks it seems to have been flaunting its beauty in my face, as much as to say, 'How can you?'"
Ada laughed.
"But I shall miss my New Zealand family. For the first time I have really felt a part of a larger family. Not just welcome, not just accepted, but a part. I shall return. My heart will for ever now be in two countries."
"We shall miss you, Trev. But the world is getting smaller. Even Alan was saying the other day that perhaps we could come over to Europe and visit you."
"Ross and I'll hold you both to that." He reached out and held Ada's hand.
"I have no worries about you and Ross. In spite of all the heated discussions and arguing, your relationship is good. It is strong and it's so full of love. Several of the others in the family have remarked of it. If that is what a homosexual relationship can be, then it is good. I know I don't need to say it, but I am just an ordinary Mum: look after Ross won't you?"
"Of course, Ada. Do you think I'll let anything bad happen to him? Not if I can stop it."
"And we'll miss you. All of us. Not least the grand-kids. Some of the older ones have asked me, 'Does he have to go to England?'. They don't ask it of Ross. His mind is usually on the next bit of the book that he's got to write. But they ask it of you."
"I like playing with them, from the youngest to the oldest."
"You'd have made a good father, Trevor," said Ada, a slight note of sadness creeping into her voice.
"Thanks. I get a lot of enjoyment out of other people's kids."
They sat and watched the sun set in a blaze of colour. They went inside, and soon they were all going up to bed.
As they were getting undressed Ross turned to Trevor, "You realise this is going to be our last night together for some time - three perhaps four months."
"I know. We've only had a few nights apart since we met on that beach nearly five years ago."
"Only when you've gone off somewhere to lecture and I was unable to go with you."
"And the time when you had the 'flu."
"How are we going to manage, Trev?"
"What do you mean?"
"What happens if you meet some desirable man when you get back to London, or I run into one of those wonderful, tall, bronzed Yankee gods in California? Do we or do we not?"
They lay side by side holding hands and there was a long discussion, and it was a discussion and not an argument. For this also was too important to argue over. They discussed the pros and cons of the question. Ross was more in favour of allowing themselves freedom than Trevor.
"What happens if and when I see Isaac?"
"That's different," answered Ross. "That is an established relationship. I know all about it. You do what you want with Isaac. I would not regard that in any conceivable way as a threat to our relationship. Anyway, I'm looking forward to meeting your Isaac."
They eventually agreed to be faithful to each other, but if anything happened with either of them the other one would be told. Trevor, as the historian of the two, gave this agreement the name of the Blenheim Concordat, and having the 'with exception of Isaac' clause in it. Blenheim was the nearest town to where the James family lived. There were to be a number of times over the years when it was mentioned and raised between them
Also when discussing how things stood between friends in homosexual relationships they would wonder if the couple concerned observed the Blenheim Concordat or not.
The agreement was reached after a nearly two hours of discussion. They turned towards each other, and kissed.
"Swalk," said Trevor.
"What?"
"Swalk, Sealed With A Loving Kiss. It's what soldiers put on the back of envelopes with letters to the wife, or fiancée, or girl friend."
"I thought they put 'Burma' on it?"
"Burma?"
"Be Undressed Ready My Angel." explained Ross.
Trevor laughed. "But my angel is already undressed, alongside me." Trevor kissed Ross again, and ran a hand lightly down over his chest, and finding Ross' nipples he gave them a pinch. There was an immediate sound of pleasure from Ross. After a few minutes of arousal using that way, Trevor's hand reached down over the stomach, and took hold of Ross' cock. It was already bone hard. "Ross, I'm so sad, and so happy, and so full of love for you."
"Good. I shall be looking forward to seeing you in your home in London. But tonight will you suck me off. But make it last as long as possible, as I will want to remember it over the coming months."
"I will be remembering other times as well, Ross. The first time, Tane Mahuta, and up by Cape Reinga."
Ross tried to say something but his mouth was closed by Trevor's kiss, and the tongue that pushed into his mouth. Their love making was long and especially poignant.
They exchanged kisses, not just mouth to mouth, but every part of each others face. Trevor moved down and lay between Ross' legs. He pushed them up so they were over his shoulders, and began to attend to that part of Ross that had given so much to him over the previous five years. He pushed his face close, his tongue explored, his lips caressed and eventually sucked. It was well into the night when Ross reached his climax.
It was Ross that woke first in the morning, as the sun began to rise above the horizon. He turned to look at Trevor sprawled out on the bed, legs apart, and his cock limp and fairly small. He reached down and with a finger lightly stroked Trevor's balls, and perineum. Trevor stirred and groaned with appreciation. As he stroked Ross watched Trevor's cock stir, and begin to thicken. It swung round as it begin to fill. He saw the glans moving up under the sheath of the foreskin, and then the first sight of the head peeping shyly out at the new day.
"I think the male penis is an object of great wonder and beauty," said Ross.
"I never cease to be amazed watching your prick harden and straighten. It is unique. It is wonderful to watch. I love touching it with my fingers and hand, so hard and yet so soft. Hardness clothed in velvet. I love the feel of it against, or within me. Trevor, my love, I want you to fuck me. I want the juice of your love within me. It's got to last me a long while."
They prepared themselves, and half an hour later they lay in each others arms, satisfied, and wondering how they were going to cope with their separation.
Goodbyes were made to Ada and Alan. Ross drove Trevor to Picton to the ferry. They were strangely silent on that journey. At the quayside they gave each other a perfunctory hug.
"See you in London," said Ross.
"Go safe, on your travels," said Trevor, giving Ross a final squeeze. Then it was up the gangway, and onto the boat. They waved to each other as the boat pulled away, and each was deep in thought.
Trevor caught a late afternoon plane to Sydney for the first hop of his journey back home. He arrived in London at midday on a Thursday in early January. It was cold, it was wet, and it was miserable. The journey from the airport to Leytonstone seemed to take longer than the whole of the flight from Wellington. He got a taxi from the tube station and was soon deposited outside number 37 Chelmsford Road. He paid the taxi driver, and looked at the house. It looked drab. The paint was peeling in places. That was something to be done. He stood in the porch getting out his key and remembered how just over twenty six years before he had stood in that same porch shivering, a ragged skinny urchin from the East End of London, waiting
in hope for Isaac. What a lot had happened since then. He unlocked the door, and it pushed aside a pile of letters and circulars that had accumulated over the few days since the tenants had left. The place smelt dank and unused. He went into every room. It was not particularly clean, certainly not up to Isaac's or his own standard. Most of the furniture looked old and worn, as it was. All the rooms would need decorating. He went back to the front door, and flicked through the envelopes and papers. There was one envelope without a stamp, with just 'Trevor' written on it. He opened it.
"Dear Trevor, Welcome home. Come and have a meal with us this evening, and if you wish you can stay the night. You can sleep in Zach's bed, he can come in with me. He is looking forward to seeing you. Yours truly, Gloria."
Trevor just had time to get round to the bank before it closed. He withdrew some money and then went to the shops for some of the basic things he would require. The sight and smell of the house depressed him. He decided to take up Gloria's offer and stay the night. Tomorrow he would start to deal with the problems of the house.
At 6.30 Trevor arrived at Gloria's flat. he rang the door bell. Gloria opened it.
"Welcome home, Trevor. You look well."
"Good to see you, Gloria." He gave her a kiss and a hug. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Zach looking round a corner.
"And who is that big lad looking round the corner at me." He held out his arms.
Zach ran and jumped into Trevor's arms. "I'm Zach, short for Zachariah," he said. Zach flung his arms round Trevor's neck and squeezed tight. "You mustn't go to New Zealand again, Uncle Trevor." He swung his long thin legs round Trevor's waist.
Trevor hugged the boy. "It's good to see you Zach. You've grown a lot."
Zach gave Trevor a kiss, and Trevor responded with a kiss in return.
Gloria stood shaking her head in amazement.
"I think you're pleased to see me," whispered Trevor in Zach's ear. He felt the boy nod; but he also felt something else. He felt a growing hardness pressing into his stomach. He realised the boy was getting a hard on. Trevor did not want to embarrass the boy; and did not want to let his mother see. "Zach, I think I've brought back a little present for you and one for your Mum all the way from New Zealand." That did the trick. Zach wriggled to get down from Trevor's arms.
The presents were found. There were two presents for Zach. A rather complicated wooden jigsaw, and five wooden elephants, which were of different sizes and could be stood balancing on top of each other. "I thought you could arrange these in a different way each day in your bedroom," said Trevor. There was some brightly coloured material for Gloria. Both mother and son were pleased with their gifts.
Soon they ate their meal. Trevor was no longer required to bath Zach, but he still had to read him a story, even though the boy was capable of reading it for himself. Eventually tiredness began to master Zach's excitement, and he was put to bed.
Trevor and Gloria sat talking.
"This Ross, is he a special friend?" asked Gloria.
"Yes, a very special friend. He will be joining me in three or four month's time. He writes books, and is going take his time getting here so he can see something of the world. I'm glad he didn't come with me. There's so much that requires doing to the house."
"I'm glad you've found someone special, Trevor. You deserve it."
Trevor slept in Zach's bed. He slept in his underpants, but he did not sleep well. There were too many thoughts about the house running through his mind. As so often happens, he dropped into a deep sleep towards the end of the night.
He woke to see Zach's face on the pillow beside him, eyes wide open, watching him.
"How long have you been here?" asked Trevor.
"Long time, Uncle Trevor. I thought you was never going to wake up."
Gloria was getting breakfast in the kitchen and heard the voices coming the bedroom, she called out. "Cup of tea, Trevor."
"Yes please."
The next few weeks were very busy for Trevor. He went through 37 Chelmsford Road carefully, making two lists of what needed to be done. The first list was to bring the place up to standard for sale, because if he got the Nottingham post he decided he would sell the house and buy one in Nottingham. But he had also applied for a couple of posts in London, and if he got one of them he would remain living in Leytonstone. Then he would have to get more things done to the house, to make it suitable for him and Ross.
He also bought a car.
Fortunately the interview for the chair at Nottingham was just ten days after his return. He travelled up the day before and stayed with Double O'Brien and her husband. She seemed to regard Trevor's appointment as her successor as a foregone conclusion. He was not so sure. He did not think he had had enough academic experience to get a chair so soon. They spent the evening arguing, as usual, and her husband listened with an amused grin on his face.
The interview went well, but Trevor was not offered the job. Double O started spitting fire when she was told. She regarded it as a personal insult and vote of no confidence. Trevor and her husband eventually succeeded to calming her down.
The next interview was held a week later and was for a post as senior lecturer at the London School of Economics and Political Science, commonly known by the initials, L.S.E. It had once had a reputation as a centre of left wing thinking, but those days were largely past. Trevor was offered the job and he accepted.
Double O'Brien was pleased when he rang to tell her the news that evening.
"You could do worse, Trev. I suppose you will now end up a Communist sympathiser!" she remarked.
Trevor laughed. "Working to make all your books prohibited reading."
She laughed. "I always thought the reds had an index like that other totalitarian organisation on the banks of the Tiber."
They both laughed. This meant the second, much more radical plan had to put into operation for the Leytonstone house.
Letters had to be written to Ross and Isaac. As Ross had been uncertain about his exact itinerary Trevor had to send copies of his letter to three different destinations.
The day after sending this letter off Trevor had his first letter from Ross in San Francisco. Dear Trev, I am enjoying my travels, but missing you like hell - or should I say heaven? I had a wonderful time in Honolulu. Visited Pearl Harbour - most impressive. The Yanks certainly know how to do these things. Enjoyed the beaches etc. San Francisco is great, full of the most wonderful American men. Every other one seems to be wonderful, and eminently worth a much closer encounter! There is quite a strong community of like minded men here. They use the word 'gay' for men who like men. It is a shame that a rather beautiful English word is catching this rather restricted meaning, but it is certainly more convenient to use than the polysyllabic 'homosexual', or other circumlocutions that we use. You will be pleased to know that I have kept to the Blenheim concordat - just! Mr Thumb and his four sons are a poor substitute. I shall be desperate when I arrive in London. Hope all is well with you. Any news of a job for you yet?" etc. etc.
A reply from Isaac was quickly received. "My dear one and only Trev, Congratulations on landing the LSE job. I think you are eminently suited to it. Also working in London may open up more lecturing and giving professional advice and even possibly board jobs for you. ........ Is there any chance of your paying a visit to Israel before Ross joins you? I shall try to come over to the UK in the late summer or early autumn. It will be a combination of work and pleasure. I am eager to meet this Ross who has won your love and devotion. He is a very lucky man, but I've told you that before.... Much love, as always, Isaac."
One weekend Trevor went up to Yorkshire to stay with Paul and Lizzie and their growing family. There were now four children, two boys, with two girls in the middle. Paul was now working very hard as vicar of a parish in one of the old woollen manufacturing towns of West Yorkshire. The woollen industry had fallen on hard times, and there was much painful economic and social readjustment going on.
Paul took Saturday as his day off that week, and Lizzie insisted that he and Paul went off together for the day. They went to Fountains Abbey near Ripon. It was a cold crisp day, and there had been a heavy frost, but the sun shone from a pale blue sky, and the ruins of the Cistercian Monastery in their valley were beautiful. They walked round the grounds and talked together as they had not talked for years. It was as though they were back walking along the Backs at Cambridge more than ten years before.
Paul was eager to know all about Ross, and Trevor's plans for the future.
Trevor wanted to know about Paul's work in the parish.
Trevor was talking about the house in Leytonstone. "I'm going to have to have it decorated from top to bottom. So I am going to take the opportunity to have it re-wired. That hasn't been done since electricity was put into the house in the late 20s. Some of the old fireplaces can come out. Ceilings which were badly cracked in the blitz and by the doodlebugs and are more held up by paper than anything, they can all come down and be replaced with this plaster-board stuff."
"Quite a big job then?"
"I must as well have it all done at once. It'll cost a bomb, but cheaper than having it done piecemeal. But it is going to be one mighty upheaval."
"Are you going to live in it while all this is being done," asked Paul.
"That's the problem Paul. I think I'll have to. I will need to keep some sort of eye on it. I cannot afford to go into an hotel."
"How often will you need to keep an eye? Every day, once a week?"
"I might get away with once a week, just. Why?"
"As you know my parents died soon after you first went out to New Zealand. I've had to sell some of the land to pay death duties. I have converted the house into four flats. The rent helps pay for the place. I've kept on one of the flats for myself. The old servants' quarters, with the rooms you and Kundi slept in. It is a holiday retreat for us all, and as somewhere to live when I retire. I didn't want to break away from the ancestral home. But what I'm saying is you can use it if you like. Come and go as you please. You could pop up to London for a day each week to keep an eye. What do you think?"
"It might do," replied Trevor thoughtfully. "I could certainly get on with my book down there. I could drive into Gloucester, catch a train up to town, and be back in the evening."
"Good, it's yours if you want it. But what's this book? Another dreary tome on economic history?"
"No, Ross has suggested I write about my time down under. 'A Life among the Kiwis', sort of thing."
"That'd make a change for you. Might even be intelligible to a guy like me."
Trevor gave Paul a friendly punch.
The next three months were hectic for Trevor. He thought the last few months in Auckland bad enough, but this was even worse. He went up to Leytonstone once a week, never saying which day he was going to be there. Twice he stayed a night with Gloria, much to both Zach's and Gloria's delight.
It was the end of March that saw the work on the house completed. Trevor then went out to buy the replacement furniture, and get all the other stuff out of store. He did not finish this work as he was determined to get out to Israel to see Isaac. He went for a week.
They had not seen each other for over five years. Isaac had aged quite a lot. He was now 56, and several times in conversation mentioned that he was approaching sixty. They spent many hours sitting in some quiet shady corner, talking over the past, and discussing the future.
They slept together, they made love, but it was a love making more full of nostalgia than promise.
Trevor flew back to London five days before Ross' arrival. Gloria, who had resumed working for Trevor, came and gave the house a thorough clean. He took the car to London Airport to meet Ross. The plane was an hour late.
Trevor fretted as he waited, walking up and down, unable to settle down to wait.
Eventually the plane landed, and Ross as a Commonwealth citizen was soon through passport and customs. Trevor, knowing exactly where to look, saw Ross first. He saw the tall lanky figure with the mop of blond hair striding along, wheeling the trolley laden with cases in front of him. Trevor waved to catch Ross' attention.
When Ross saw Trevor his face broke into a broad grin, and they came together. Most of the recommendations of the Wolfenden Report had been made into law by Parliament the year before. Homosexual acts between consenting males in private were no longer illegal. Slowly, very slowly, a thaw on these matters had begun, though there was still a great way to go. So they gave each other a very quick hug, as brief as their parting hug on the quayside at Picton four months before.
They made their way out to the car. It was a warm sunny day of Spring. The daffodils were out, and nodding in welcome. The sky was a light blue with an occasional fluffy white cloud.
"I thought it was always grey with fog and rain," said Ross, looking around.
"It is ninety per cent of the time. I laid this on specially for your benefit," commented Trevor.
Trevor had planned the route back to Leytonstone with care. Not for them that day the interminable traffic lights, roundabouts and narrow corners of the North Circular Road, though many of them had been straightened out while Trevor had been in New Zealand. They drove through west London and cut down onto the Chelsea Embankment. Ross got his first sight of the Thames. They went along Millbank.
"Isn't that Big Ben?" cried Ross, as they got their first glimpse of the Houses of Parliament.
"And Westminster Abbey over on our left."
They crossed Parliament Square, and passed the cenotaph.
"Ten Downing Street up that narrow turning on your left," said Trevor. "Where the P.M. lives."
"Doesn't look much of a place, does it?"
Soon they were into Trafalgar Square with Nelson on his column, and the National Gallery and St Martin-in-the-Fields. Though there were no longer any fields for miles around. They swung left under Admiralty Arch and up the Mall. The trees that line the Mall looked fresh and clean with their spring foliage.
"Buck House straight ahead," said Trevor, the Londoner born and bred.
"The Palace?"
"Yes. Look to see if the Royal Standard is flying. If it is it means Liz is inside." They went round the Victoria Memorial and back down the Mall.
"I thought you ought to see where your sovereign lives," said Trevor. "I think you colonials ought to take oaths of allegiance every year."
Ross laughed and they started arguing about the merits of a constitutional monarchy. Trevor drove along the Strand and Fleet Street and passed St Paul's. Then into the financial heart of the City with the Bank Of England, [the Old Lady of Threadneedle Street], the Stock Exchange and Mansion House on their respective corners. Trevor drove out through the East End. He tried to find the house and road in which he had lived as a small boy but it was all unrecognisable. Then up Bow Road, passed Bow Church, and over Hackney Marshes and into Leytonstone. Number 37 Chelmsford Road looked spic and span with its new coat of paint.
"Welcome home," said Trevor, "To our second home." He unlocked the door, and they went in. The luggage could stay in the car, there were more important things to do. Once the door was shut they were into each other's arms.
"It seems years since we were together," said Ross.
"It's one hundred and two days."
Eventually they broke apart. "What do you want? Tour of the building, a full belly or emptied bollocks?"
"I think things in that order. I want to spend time in the last one on that list, and not to be thinking of getting things out of the car, or filling an empty stomach. When I get you, my Pommy friend, as I want to get you, I want to spend plenty of time over it."
"Good! Let me show you our house."
"I like that, Trev, our house. I begin to feel at home."
Trevor showed Ross over the house. He pointed out things which awaited Ross' opinion. They went in to the big front bedroom. "This is our room.
I've bought a new bed. The old one was really old, and full of memories of Isaac. This is brand new. It hasn't been slept in yet!" Trevor gave Ross one of his cheeky grins.
Ross grabbed him and held him close. "When you give me one of those sexy grins I can't resist you."
"Good. I can't wait until we can christen this bed tonight."
Again with reluctance they pulled apart. When the conducted tour was over they unloaded the car, and while Ross began to unpack Trevor prepared a meal. They began the long process of catching up on each other's news. There was a lot to tell. Ross was full of his experiences in the States.
They decided that the washing up could wait until the morning. They both had a quick bath and then made their way to the bedroom. They took off their dressing gowns and stood naked in front of each other. As they looked two cocks began to stand to attention.
"Two old friends are glad to see each other," commented Trevor.
They moved together into an embrace.
"One hundred and two days is a long while," murmured Ross. Their cocks rubbed together, and their hands reached round stroking backs and then reaching down to feel buttocks. By unspoken consent they got onto the bed. Ross lay on top of Trevor, kissing his face. They ground their crotches together. The hundred and two days had been too long, Ross thrust once too often, he passed the point of no return and immediately his pent= up spunk was pouring out onto Trevor's stomach. That did it for Trevor, he added his love juice, and he felt their mixed spunk begin to trickle down his waist onto the sheet below.
"Well, we've christened the bed now," said Trevor. "There'll be a nice wet patch of spunk on the sheet now."
"Sorry I was so quick," apologised Ross.
"No need to say sorry. That was good, and now we can take our time. The night is yet young."
They wiped themselves, and got most of the spunk off the sheet. In the course of that night they both sucked each other fully, and both fucked fully, completely and satisfactorily. They talked in between their periods of love making; and also they did get some sleep.
It was nearly eleven in the morning when they made the decision that they ought to make a move.
"What a night," commented Ross. "I don't know what I like best, shagging you, or being shagged by you."
Trevor laughed. "It's good we both like the same things."
"Yea! I reckon we're very sexually compatible. That's very important."
They were just finishing their very late breakfast when there was a knock at the door. Trevor went to the door, still chewing the last bite of his toast and marmalade. It was Gloria and Zach.
"Have I come too early?" asked Gloria.
"No. we're very late. Just finishing breakfast. Come on in."
He led the way through to the living room where Ross was.
"Ross let me introduce you to Gloria. You will be seeing a lot her, as she has agreed to clean for us."
They shook hands.
Zach was standing rather shyly behind his mother. "Come on, Zach," said Trevor. "Let me introduce you to my friend Ross, from New Zealand."
Zach stepped forward. "Hello, Zach," said Ross holding out his hand.
Very correctly, Zach shook it. "Hello, Uncle Ross, I'm Zach, short for Zachariah, and I'm nine."
Gloria, seeing a job to be done, started to clear away the breakfast things.
When she took the first load into the kitchen, she saw the dirty things from the evening before. "Ooh," she said, "You haven't washed up the things from last night. You naughty boys." She turned and looked at them both and with a broad grin all over he face, she added, "And I wonder why?"
Trevor was amused to see that Ross had gone a bright red.
"I'm glad," said Gloria, "You both put first things first." She turned into the kitchen and started to do the washing up. Trevor went to help her,
leaving Ross and Zach in the living room.
"Are you a Kiwi?" asked Zach.
"Yes," replied Ross.
"What is a Kiwi?"
Ross was immediately into problems saying that a kiwi was a bird which didn't fly that lived in New Zealand, and was also the name that New Zealanders often gave themselves. Though all this took some explaining, a few minutes later, when Trevor looked into the room, Zach was sitting on Ross' lap holding an intelligent conversation.
Ross soon settled into living in a London suburb. He missed the open spaces and beauty of New Zealand, and his family and friends from his home country, but he was with Trevor and that was what really mattered. Trevor soon took him sight=seeing and introducing him to London. Trevor remembered how Isaac had taken him to places when he had first gone to live with him over twenty five years before. The scars of the blitz were largely gone, and sadly St Paul's no longer dominated the London sky line, and is was steadily being surrounded by taller buildings. Ross found it hard to accept the age of some of the buildings he saw. In New Zealand there were very few buildings much over a hundred years old. But in London there were remains of Roman London, there was the White Tower built in the eleventh century, and many other ancient buildings. As they walked round London he was made conscious of history by the round blue plaques on the walls of buildings, Charles Dickens lived here, or some other famous person stayed there. There was one thing that did rather make him cross. People who heard his accent often asked if he was from Australia, and though he had lived and loved in Australia no New Zealander likes being mistaken for an Australian.
The back bedroom had been made over into the place where they worked. Most of the space was allocated to Ross as he would be spending the most time there. Trevor would be doing a lot of his work at the L.S.E. Very soon two maps appeared on the walls of their work room. Ross' map was the one from New Zealand covered with the pins that marked places where they had made love. Trevor's map was of the British Isles, and for a while had just one pin in it slightly to the north east of central London.
"I like looking at both maps," said Ross. "One reminds me of all our good times in New Zealand, and the other holds out promises for the future."
"I have got some plans for getting some pins stuck into my one," said Trevor. "But it is not so easy over here. Sex between consenting adults of the same sex may now be legal, but it is not acceptable in hotels, boarding houses and so on. Camping over here is not so easy. But where there's a will there's a way."
Trevor had kept in touch with his Continental contacts during his time in New Zealand. He received a couple of invitations to speak over in Germany, but he had to delay accepting until he knew his schedule at the L.S.E. During March he had received a parcel from the publisher of his books. It contained a book by a professor at the Sorbonne in Paris. 'Dear Doctor Russell, It has been brought to our notice that the enclosed book, which is on your field of study, has been very well reviewed in France, and that there is talk of it being translated into German. I know that you speak and read French fluently so I would be grateful if you would look at it with a view to our commissioning a translation into English. Yours sincerely....' Trevor had read the book during the weeks before Ross arrived, and on his visit to Isaac in Israel. He thought it an excellent book which merited an English translation. Perhaps not unexpectedly, he was asked if he would be able and willing to do the translating. Though he had never worked as a translator, the book was on his subject, so he decided to accept.
He wrote to the author in French:- Dear Professor Guizot, I have been asked by the London University Press if I would translate your book 'Steps towards European Economic Uniformity' into English. Before undertaking such a task I would like to meet with you as there are a number of issues in the book I would like to discuss with you. Etc. etc. Yours sincerely, Trevor Russell."
He received an invitation to visit Paris and Professor Guizot said he would set apart a day to spend with Trevor, and gave him a number of dates.
"We're going to Paris," announced Trevor when he had read the letter. "We'll go for two or three days. Chance for you to see something of Paris."
Ross did not argue, it sounded a good idea to him.
So early in May Trevor and Ross caught the boat train from Victoria Station to Folkestone, and then took the ferry across to Boulogne and then the French boat train to the Gare du Nord in Paris. Their hotel was just off the Boulevard Hausmann. They had booked to have a twin-bedded room. Trevor was unsure how far Gallic tolerance would run when it came to two men sharing a double bed in a Paris hotel.
On their first night in Paris they ate well, and made their way back to their room.
"Which bed are we sleeping in?" asked Ross.
"Are you expecting us to sleep together?" replied Trevor, with one of his schoolboy cheeky grins.
"Yes, I am, you sexy Pom. That food and drink must've been full of aphrodisiacal substances, I'm desperate." Ross tried to grab Trevor, who neatly dodged round one of the beds.
"Aphrodisiacal! That's a long word for an illiterate Kiwi colonial!" said Trevor laughing.
Ross made another, and this time successful, grab at Trevor. They fell onto one of the beds, Ross, the bigger man, was on top.
"I'll give you 'illiterate Kiwi', I'd have you know, you stuck up Pommy bastard, that the Kiwis are the most literate nation on earth."
"That's what you say. But at this moment I want your stuck up Kiwi prick, which I can feel only too well, stuck up where it properly belongs."
They both laughed and stopped struggling together. They pressed close.
"Ross, you just don't know how much I love you."
"If it's half as much as I love you, it's unbearable in its intensity."
They kissed with passion, and ground their crotches together.
"If we continue this for too long, I'll come in my pants," said Trevor.
Ross moved so that he could start undoing Trevor's shirt. Trevor helped and it was soon removed. Ross eased further away, and undid Trevor's belt and pulled down his zip. Trevor soon lay naked on the bed. Ross, still fully clothed, stood looking thoughtfully down at Trevor.
"What are you thinking?" asked Trevor.
"Just how beautiful the body of a human male is. I remember learning French at school, and there was this sentence that in the animal kingdom the male was always more beautiful than the female, with the exception of the human race. I thought then, and think even more now that that is a whole lot of bullshit. I cannot understand being turned on by all those floppy bits."
"But what about this?" said Trevor, getting hold of his own erect cock and waving it around.
"That's not a floppy bit, that's a dangly bit!"
They both laughed. Ross stripped of his clothes and joined Trevor on the bed.
"We're like a couple of kids," said Trevor, trying to get even closer to Ross.
"Mum says men never grow up."
"She should know, one husband and you and your brothers."
"Some ways I still feel a teenager."
"Yes, teenagers still, but hopefully with some of the maturity and wisdom that the years bring."
"But keeping a youthful enthusiasm for this sort of thing."
"I should say! I wonder when the old sex urge begins to fade?"
"Never I hope," said Ross. "Now turn onto your front, we've larked around for too long."
Trevor rolled onto his front.
"This side of you is just as good," said Ross, gently stroking Trevor's back. "You've got a beautiful bum."
"All made and ready, 'specially for you."
Ross got off the bed, and found the jar of lubricant. His fingers gently prepared Trevor for penetration. "The way you do that makes me want you even more."
"Good." Ross bent down and gave Trevor's buttocks a couple of lingering kisses.
Trevor raised his bottom, and Ross carefully placed the head of his prick and began to push. They had done this so many times, and Trevor was so relaxed that penetration was easy. Soon Ross' prick was fully inserted into Trevor, and Ross lay sprawled over Trevor. "Is that all right, Trev, my love?" Ross kissed the back of Trevor's neck and nibbled his ear.
"I'm happy for the night now."
"I'm not too heavy?"
"Of course not. I feel loved."
"You are." Ross began to piston his prick in and out of Trevor. He knew he was satisfying the man beneath him. Gradually he increased his pace. The murmurs of appreciation from Trevor increased. The climax for them both took a long time coming, but still seemed too quick for them both.
Trevor's map of the British Isles back in London did not go as far south as Paris. So the second pin for Trevor had to placed on a new map of continental Europe.
The visit to Paris had been worth while in fulfilling its primary purpose. Trevor had got on well with Professor Guizot. This meant that Trevor was very busy. He now had this new task to do. He wanted to finish his book on New Zealand before he started work at the LSE. Once again the Russell principle of 'work hard, play hard' came into play. Ross was more than happy to fit in with this. He had found his three months in the States had given him a number of ideas, and promptly got down to work on his next thriller which would be located on three continents.
One morning when Trevor was typing out his New Zealand book, Ross came into the room with mugs of coffee for them both. They took turns in doing that. He placed the mu alongside Trevor, and leaned over him placing a hand on both his shoulders. He gently massaged Trevor.
"That's nice, Ross."
Ross did not answer, but was reading what Trevor had written.
"That reads well, Trev. You write well. I know I've tried to read some of the other stuff you've written, but it is all too technical, and not my field. But this is good. I hope is sells well." He bent down and kissed Trevor's neck, and turned to get on with his own work.
It was the beginning of June, when one evening Trevor asked Ross. "Are you free for four days next week? I want to take you off somewhere."
"Yes, I'm free. Always for you!" They both laughed. "But where to?"
"Secret."
The next week they packed the tent and their camping gear into the back of the car. They drove off round the interminable North Circular, over the Thames at Staines and on to the A30, and then the A303. They turned off just west of Andover and ended up getting the farmer's permission to camp in a field just beyond the village of Larkhill. They got themselves a meal, and sat around talking. They watched the sun set late in the evening.
"Bed?" asked Ross.
"No," replied Trevor, "Walk."
"What at this time of night?"
"We're going to somewhere special."
"Where?"
"Not telling."
They got up and started walking south. Trevor had carefully worked out back in Leytonstone exactly where they needed to go. After just over a mile they came to a main road. They crossed it, and changed direction, and walked almost due east. The night was warm and cloudless, and there seemed to be a myriad of stars above them.
"Reminds me of that night up near Cape Reinga when we made the decision to come over here."
"That was a wonderful night too."
The sky ahead of them began to lighten, and soon the full moon rose above the horizon flooding to the grassy landscape with its silvery light.
Suddenly Ross stopped. He had seen it. There ahead of him was the world-wide recognisable sight of Stonehenge. "Stonehenge!" he whispered in awe. He grabbed Trevor's hand,. "What a way to see it for the first time?"
"The ancient gods of Britain like a human sacrifice just as much as Tane Mahuta back in Kiwiland."
"But if I'm right this is thousands of years old. The first Maoris came to Aotearoa just over a thousand years ago, quite recently compared with this.
And you intend that we...?"
"Exactly the same, though with our roles reversed."
They walked hand in hand towards the circle of moonlit stones. Then they heard a sound, a wispy flute like sound.
"Someone's there!" whispered Trevor, a note of sad regret in his voice.
They crept closer. They could see two figures prancing around in the inner circle of the stones. At first they presumed it was a man and a woman dancing naked, and then they saw that it was two men. They stood watching between the stones for several minutes. The dancers must have sensed that someone was there. The flute like sound ceased, the dancing stopped, and hands covered genitals. "Is someone there?" asked one of the men peering round.
Trevor stepped forward out of the shadow of one of the monoliths. "Can we join you?"
The two men looked at each other in consternation at being found dancing naked in the moonlight in the middle of Britain's most famous ancient monument.
"We were hoping to do something like that as well. Can we join you?"
Again the two men looked at each other. "If you get your kit off," said one with a rich Wiltshire accent.
"No problem about that," said Ross.
Ross and Trevor retreated to one of the larger stones, and quickly removed all their clothes.
"I'm Trevor," said Trevor, holding out his hand.
"I'm Chris." "I'm Ian," said the other two in broad Wiltshire, and they shook hands.
"And I'm Ross, and new to these parts." said Ross, joining the group and shaking hands.
"You're not from these parts?" said Chris. "Aussie?"
Trevor laughed knowing that no New Zealander likes being mistaken for an Australian.
"No! I'm from New Zealand. I'll forgive you for getting it wrong, just this once. Don't let it happen again." He laughed.
"Kiwis don't like being called Aussies. That is the one thing they are sensitive about, aren't you, love." Much to Ross' surprise Trevor put his arm round him and gave him a kiss.
Chris and Ian looked at each other and smiled. All visibly relaxed. The two men were possible slightly younger than Ross and Trevor.
"Don't let us stop you, can we just join in."
"Your turn to play," said Chris handing over the recorder to Ian.
The thin wispy music resumed and the other three started prancing and dancing around. After about ten minutes Ian stopped.
"There's something wonderful about prancing around in the nuddy, isn't there?" said Chris.
"It's liberating. I think it may be better than swimming." said Trevor.
"We've never done that in the nuddy," said Ian.
"It's good. That's how we met, swimming in the nuddy, as you put it, back home in New Zealand," said Ross.
"We've known each other since kids, neighbouring farms, same schools and so on," said Ian.
"Do you do this often?" asked Trevor.
"No just once a year. On the night of the nearest full moon to the summer solstice, midsummer's day. Should be the new moon, but the light's better for a full moon," answered Ian.
"But why the music?"
Ian shrugged. "I think we thought we'd dance the first time we came here as school kids, and have just kept on. Habit? Tradition? It somehow wouldn't be the same without that old recorder."
"So you dance around......" said Trevor, with a cheeky grin on his face.
"Yes, we have a dance, and then......." He realised he was about to say too much.
"You consummate your relationship?" said Trevor.
Ross let out a guffaw. "What he means you have a good screw, or fuck, or what ever you Poms like to call it."
They all laughed. "You've got the right idea, mate." said Chris.
"That's what we were hoping to do," said Trevor.
"Nothing to stop you. Do you want some music, or shall we do it at the same time?" asked Ian.
"Let's have a drink first," said Chris going over and producing a large bottle of cider. This was passed round, each one of them taking a hefty swig.
"We did something like this in New Zealand about five years back. It was very special." Trevor told the other two how Ross had led him on about visiting Tane Mahuta, and how he had wondered who it was. "It was this huge ancient tree, about two thousand years old. Colossal. This Kiwi here said Tane Manhuta, the God of the Forest, demanded a human sacrifice from new comers to his island. Love juice, produced without the aid of human hand. He fucked me until I shot my load on the ground. It was special wasn't it?" Again Trevor put his arm round Ross and gave him a kiss.
"We've been coming here once a year since we were teenagers. Then one night we slipped out of our houses and came up here, and you know." explained Ian.
"Fucked," interjected Ross.
"Yes. We do it every year to renew our commitment to each other. We just keep to each other." said Ian. He put his arm round Chris and they exchanged kisses.
"So do we," said Ross.
Trevor turned to Ross, "What do you think. Music while we work, or at same time?"
"Same time, but not a competition."
"Fine by us," said Ian. They had a conference to decide who did what to whom
The two couples stood about six feet apart, almost directly facing each other in the centre of the ancient stone ring. The necessary preparations were carried out. Ian stood behind Chris, and Trevor behind Ross. All four cocks were hard and ready.
"You'll have to bend your legs a little, as you're taller than me," whispered Trevor in Ross' ear. Two cocks slide into their prepared places. It is not easy to do standing up, and there was a certain amount of shuffling around to secure the balance of the copulating couples. When that was done, and there were sounds of appreciation from all four men, Ian and Trevor started thrusting. They did it slowly at first. Standing up was not the most comfortable position as Trevor tended to try and make himself taller by standing slightly on his toes, and Ross had to bend his legs. Trevor quickly found the right angle, and a groan from Ross confirmed he was on target. Soon a fourfold jet of spunk shot out from Ross' cock and bespattered the ground. Thirty seconds later Chris' offering was added.
"I hope your ancient gods are satisfied with that," said Ross.
"They are, I feel it in my bones," said Chris. "You'll have many good years in this ancient land of Britain."
They went over to their clothes and got dressed. The cider bottle was passed round again. The four stood talking.
"So you've been doing it since you were boys?" said Ross.
"Yes, even before we could shoot a load of honest spunk we liked to rub our stiff cocks together," said Ian.
"As lads we could stay with each other, and sleep together. When we got older we had to stop that, as our folk would've got talking."
"You don't live together then?" asked Ross.
"No. Neighbouring farms, but all our parents are around, and neither of us is ever alone for a night at home. Even if one lot of parents was away, it would take a lot of explaining as to why we wanted to spend a night together."
"Not like your folk," said Trevor to Ross.
"My parents know I'm gay, and have accepted me fully, as have the rest of the family. When Trevor comes to stay we are given a room and a double bed. More than once my Dad has complained about being kept awake by the creaking of the bed springs - as a joke."
"That's wonderful," said Chris. "I think I'd be out on my neck if my old man knew I was gay."
"Same 'ere," muttered Ian.
"He's always on about how terrible it is since it was made legal. He says Salisbury's full of queers flaunting themselves all over the place," continued Chris.
"Is it?" asked Trevor.
"Is it, heck! I wish it was," said Chris. "But, you two, do you live together?"
"Yes, we live the other side of London. We've been together for just over five years, but most of that time was down under," explained Trevor.
"You're lucky. We have to get together when and where we can. Around the farm is sometimes safe, but only really so when one of our lot of parents is gone to Salisbury or Andover. Then the other one has to give a reason to his Dad why he needs to go across to the other farm. Otherwise the question would be asked, 'What did you 'ave to go across there for?'" said Chris.
"We can often meet at the pub together of an evening, and then go off somewhere. Or go to the flicks in Salisbury. It's not too difficult to find somewhere for a fuck at this time of year, but you 'ave to be quick about it in the winter because it can be so bloody cold," added Ian.
Trevor looked at Ross with a questioning raised eyebrow. Ross gave the slightest of returning nods.
"If you can get away to London you could stay with us. We have a second double bed, and you could stay in it as long as you like," invited Trevor with a laugh.
Ian looked at Chris. "I think we might be able to get away, that's real good of you."
Trevor told them his telephone number and his full name and address. "If you forget the number you can remember the name and look me up in the telephone directory."
"He's quite good at remembering figures," said Chris nodding at Ian.
The cider bottle was passed round again, and with hugs all round they went off in their different directions.
Trevor and Ross held hands as walked back over the grassy fields to their tent.
"Thank you for that," said Ross.
"What? For a quick fuck in the moonlight in the middle of Stonehenge?"
"No, twice you put your arm round me and gave me a kiss in front of those other two, before we were certain about them."
"I just wish we could walk down the Strand hand in hand, and I could give you a kiss in the middle of Trafalgar Square," said Trevor.
Jeff at jeffyrks@hotmail.com