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,
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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.
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Two Jubilees and a Spitfire.
This story which opens in the 1930's will tell the story of one person from some of his first memories in the 1930s through to his seventieth birthday in 2002.
Trevor comes from the East End of London and speaks with a cockney accent. This involves a total non use of an 'h' at the beginning of the a word. Also 'th' is frequently pronounced 'v' or 'f'... I have always used a 'v', even where the sound would be an 'f'. I hope this does not make reading too difficult, but helps to give colour to the dialogue.
Resume:- Trevor , aged 11, has moved in with Isaac, a Jewish refugee from Austria.
Part 8 Two Jubilees and a Spitfire. Dodging Doodlebugs, or V1s, V2s and V.E.Day
Trevor found his new school better than his previous one. There were more middle class parents around in Leytonstone, eager to maintain standards for their children's education. But in many respects the school was similar. There were the long desks, the teacher using blackboard and chalk. On the other hand the lavatory out in the playground was slightly less smelly. He made a few friends at school.
The first half of the term was relatively peaceful until the 16th June. Then life changed.
British intelligence knew that the Nazis were working on various secret weapons. Many bombing raids delayed the research and development of these weapons of indiscriminate destruction. But on the 16th June 1944 the first of Hitler's secret weapons was launched. The V1, standing for Victory One, was a pilotless aircraft, a flying bomb. It was a crude weapon aimed in the general direction of London. It flew until it ran out of fuel and then, when it crashed, its one-ton warhead exploded. Very soon the Londoner's humour started calling them 'buzz bombs', or 'doodlebugs'. They sounded like a badly tuned motor cycle. While you could hear them you knew you were safe' but when the engine cut out there was a 12-20 second silence before the explosion. The sound of a doodlebug remained a potent memory in the ears of all who had heard one. If in subsequent decades someone who had lived in south eastern England during 1944 heard a recording of a doodlebug,
and the cut-out of its engine, then the heart still stopped, and there was again a tightening of the stomach muscles and a return of the fear. They were cheap to make, and a great many were launched in the following three months. Many were shot down by fighters; many were shot down by anti aircraft fire; a few were brought down by barrage balloons, but even then all too many got through.
Londoners returned to the habits of the blitz, but in many ways the doodlebug menace was worse. The blitz was almost entirely night raids, the doodlebugs came at any hour of the day or night. Everyday life and work had to continue. To go to a shelter whenever the sirens sounded was impossible in many factories, offices and even schools. [Footnote 1] Many factories and offices organised a more immediate watch and warning system so that the imminent warning was only given when a doodlebug was heard or seen coming that way. At night people slept in their shelters again.
For Trevor at school it was even worse than the old days of the Battle of Britain and the Blitz. The interruptions were more frequent and potentially more lethal.
Before the war, work had begun to electrify the railway from Epping into Liverpool Street Station, and make it a part of the Central Line. Though all of the Central Line in the centre of London was deep underground, most of the extensions to east and west were above ground. However at Leytonstone a new spur line was to be made and this was to be underground. Before the war the tunnels had been made. These became shelters for many people. During the blitz Isaac had sheltered there at night. Now each night Isaac and Trevor, together with many others, made their way to the tunnel. The authorities had provided bunks. This shelter gave them a good night's sleep, but it stopped their other nocturnal activities, even though they often slept together on a top bunk. Once again the Londoner camaraderie came to the fore. People shared the latest buzz bomb stories, and there was laughter and singing, before settling down to sleep.
They were anxious days. When Isaac left for work there was an additional fervour in their farewells. The kisses and the hugs were more intense. Inside both of them was a fear that it might be a last time. When Isaac returned from work and saw that his house was still safe and sound he felt relieved. There was a similar feeling for Trevor when he heard Isaac's key in the lock. Whenever they were in the house and there was a raid, and they heard the approaching doodlebug they sheltered in the cupboard under the stairs. Many people had survived bombing during the blitz by sheltering under their stairs.
Twice they we caught making love on the bed. They agreed to continue if the siren went and that they would only take shelter if they heard the buzz bomb. On one occasion in the warmth of a sunny summer evening they were on the bed. Their love making had been slow and fulfilling. Trevor was sitting astride and speared by Isaac's cock. The siren went. Isaac looked at Trevor with a quizzical look in his eyes. Trevor shook his head and continued. Trevor was increasing the pace of his movements as he rode on Isaac. They heard the buzz bomb. It got louder and louder. Trevor increased his pace. All doodlebugs sounded as though they were coming overhead, barely missing the chimney pots. Then suddenly this one cut out.
They both stopped and held their breath. The silence seemed to last an eternity. Then came the crash some way off. They relaxed, but Isaac shot his load deep into Trevor. They kissed and hugged each other.
"If I have to die in this war I could think of no better way of going than making love to you," said Isaac.
"We'd go to 'eaven together."
"Yes. If Jews and Gentiles are allowed into the same heaven."
"Aren't they then?" asked Trevor.
"Some would say 'no', on both sides. But we do worship the same God, at the end of the day."
The other time was a narrower escape. The circumstances were in many ways similar except that Isaac was enjoying himself sucking hard on Trevor's cock. They heard the siren go. But they did not hear the doddlebug approaching, nor when it cut out. The first they knew was an almighty explosion that blew in the window, and brought down some of the ceiling on the landing outside their room. If the plaster come down over them they might well have been hurt. There was a lot of clearing and cleaning up after that one.
They followed the news from France. Slowly the bridgehead expanded. The Germans were forced to feed their reserves piecemeal into the battle. Then when all was ready Montgomery's plans swung into operation. The Americans in the west of the front launched their attack. The German line was broken,
many Germans were surrounded at Falaise. Paris was liberated. The launching sites of the doodlebugs, just across the Straits of Dover, were captured at the end of August and the beginning of September. The war seemed almost over.
But it was not to be. The fighting was to drag through the Autumn of 1944, through the winter, and well into the Spring of 1945.
There was a short respite for the people of London. It seemed as though they were safe again. Isaac and Trevor resumed sleeping in their bed, and resumed their other activities as well. It was in the middle of the night of the 8th September when they were wakened by an explosion. They both sat up in bed.
"What was that?" asked Isaac.
"I didn't hear the siren, did you?" asked Trevor.
"Perhaps it was an unexploded bomb or something."
It was the arrival of the first V2. A rocket, with a one ton warhead, fired from Holland on London. The V1 presented a different terror. There was no warning.
Trevor, with the callousness of youth, said that he preferred the V2s. "Wiv the rockets you 'ave either 'ad it or not 'ad it, wiv the doodlebugs you 'ave that 'orrible bloody wait."
One landed on a bus full of people at the Water Works corner in Woodford. Another landed about three hundred yards away from Isaac's house in Leytonstone.. It landed during the day when Trevor was at school and Isaac at work. It did more damage to the house, and some more ceiling fell down.
They had not seen the end of the doodlebugs. The Nazis now launched them from planes based in Holland. These came at night, not every night, but some nights. None landed near Isaac's house, but there were nights when the sirens went, and the familiar sound clattered overhead, sometimes followed by the terrifying silence.
Trevor remembered that 6th December would be Isaac's birthday. He realised that he wanted to give him something. He thought about it, and then decided to consult Mr and Mrs Stevens next door. Isaac was giving Trevor some pocket money each week, but with the wartime austerities there was little to buy. There were books, but he did not know what sort of books to buy for a man who already had so many. They discussed the matter at length.
"I know," said Mrs Stevens, "Why don't you make him something?"
"Wot?"
"Why don't you make him a special birthday card, and in it say thank you to 'im for all that 'e's done for you?"
Trevor thought for a moment. "Could do."
"I've an idea," said Mr Stevens putting his newspaper down. "Win, you remember one of the boys was interested in that funny writing at one time?"
"Italic?" she suggested.
"That's it. I think we've still got the pens and the book on how to do it. 'Ave a look at it, Trevor lad, doing it in special writing would make it sort of special." Mr Stevens put his paper down and went upstairs. After a few minutes he came down with a box, in it were some pens, a bottle of black ink, together with a pamphlet explaining how to do italic writing. "Think you can do that, Trevor lad?"
"I could try."
Over the next couple of weeks Trevor taught himself how to write in italic. He was attracted to the beauty of the lettering. He also gave some thought to what he was going to say and to a picture on the front of the special card.
Eventually the card was finished. On the front he drew a picture of two figures sitting close together on a log in a forest. One was a tall man, with a large nose, and the other was a boy in short trousers with a mop of dark hair. Underneath he wrote 'A Day in Epping Forest.' Inside he wrote, 'Dear Isaac, Thank you for giving me a home. Thank you for feeding me. Thank you for my new clothes. Thank you for teaching me to speak German and French. Thank you for showing me how to do sums. Thank you for playing chess and cards with me. And especially thank you for loving me." Beside each line was a little line drawing, a house, a plate with something on it,
a pair of trousers, beside the last line a X, a kiss.
Isaac's birthday was on a Saturday. Trevor woke first and quietly slipped out of bed, and went down to make a cup of tea. When he came back into the bedroom Isaac was awake.
"Many 'appy returns of your birthday," said Trevor with a broad grin.
"You remembered. Put that tray down, and come here, and let me give you a kiss for remembering."
" 'Old on a mo. I've got something for you." Trevor handed Isaac the card.
Isaac opened it, and read all that was inside. Tears came to his eyes, and trickled down his cheeks.
"Wot you crying for?"
"When I was young I used to get many birthday presents, but I think that this that you've done, is the best I ever received. When did you learn to write like that?"
"Mr and Mrs Stevens lent me a book wiv it all in, and some pens."
"It's beautifully done."
Trevor got into bed. "I wanted to do something else than the cross for a kiss for the last one."
"What did you want to do?"
"A picture of your wopping cock in my mouth, or stuffed up my bum. That's what I was thinking of."
"Why didn't you?"
"Mr and Mrs Steven know about ver card, and they'll want to see it, and I didn't vink they'd like that."
Isaac laughed. "You can draw that picture on another piece of paper, especially for me. But thank you." During the day Trevor drew another two pictures showing the scenes he had wanted to draw on the card. Later Isaac put the card and the two drawings in his box of mementoes.
"Let's drink our tea before it gets cold."
They drank their tea, and snuggled back together in the bed.
"Getting you from Bill was the best birthday present I ever gave myself. You were worth every penny of the five quid."
"Five quid!" exploded Trevor. "Five bloody quid!" he shouted. "You was bloody well rooked. He must have thought that you had plenty of bread. [CRS bread and honey - money]. He charged most geysers a quid at the most, many just ten bob."
"I don't regret any one of the twelve hundred pennies in that five quid. You are worth every penny."
They lay close together, exchanging kisses and intimate touches.
"I know what else I would like," whispered Isaac in Trevor's ear.
"Wot's that?"
"I'd like to suck that lovely cock of yours."
"You don't 'ave to ask to do that. Any time. It's all yours." Trevor spread his legs.
Isaac got his head down, and started kissing, licking and sucking all the intimate and erotic places that Trevor possessed. When he eventually stopped Trevor asked him, "Do you want to fuck me?"
"Yes, please."
"As a very special birthday favour," said Trevor with his cheeky know all grin. He grabbed the Vaseline jar and prepared himself and Isaac. He sat
astride Isaac and rode him. He delayed the climax for as long as he could. It was nearly mid day when their love-making was completed, and they rose and dressed.
At the end of the autumn term Trevor came home from school with a report. He had come bottom of his class. He realised that Isaac was disappointed and sad about it. Trevor resolved to work harder at school.
The final months of the war were a hard time. People felt it should have been over in the autumn but it dragged on. The rationing became tighter. More and more buildings were in need of repair, and those not in need of repair were in need of a lick of paint.
The news was both good and sombre. Slowly progress was made. Germany was invaded from east and west. The end was getting nearer. The sombre news was coming out of those countries that had been occupied by the Nazis. What had happened to the Jews? The stories began to filter out of all the Jews being arrested and transported away. Then came news of the concentration camps. The horrors from Auschwitz, Treblinka, and the other concentration camps in Poland became known. Isaac had more and more periods of silent despair as he worried about his family in Austria.
At the end of the Spring term Trevor came back from school with another report. He had been placed fifteenth, exactly half way up the class. Isaac was delighted at Trevor's progress and praised him highly. On the following Saturday Trevor paid his weekly visit back to his old home in Limehouse and boasted to his mother as to how well he was doing at school.
Eventually the war in Europe drew to a close. The news on the BBC told of Hitler's suicide, and of his successor Admiral Doenitz. A few days later the guns in Europe fell silent. Trevor had a day off school to mark the celebration. Isaac found that there was a similar idea around at his place of work. He came home early in the afternoon.
"Let's go up to town to join the celebrations," suggested Isaac.
They caught the train from Leytonstone to Liverpool Street, and then made their way by bus. They were soon caught up in the celebrating crowds in Trafalgar Square. They made their way with thousands of others up the Mall towards Buckingham Palace. There was a great roar from the crowd as the doors behind the central balcony opened, and the King and Queen with Winston Churchill came out on to the balcony. They waved to the crowds. There was prolonged cheering for several minutes before the distant figures retreated back into the palace.
They got home early in the evening. "Game of chess?" asked Trevor getting the chess set out.
They played a rather lengthy game of chess. There were now occasions when Trevor beat Isaac, and that evening Isaac had to struggle hard to win. Towards the end of the game Trevor yawned several times.
"Bed, young man?"
"I suppose so."
Isaac got them both a warm drink. Then they went upstairs, and in the bedroom began to undress. When they were both naked Isaac said, "Come and stand here next to me."
"I know what you're wanting," said Trevor grinning.
"Maybe. But I want to see how tall you are against me."
Trevor went and stood close in front of Isaac.
"Yes. You've grown, Trev. When you first came you came up to here on me. Now look."
Trevor had indeed grown.
"Was your Dad a tall man?"
"Yea. About six foot. With big shoulders and muscles in his arms."
"I think you are going to be like him. You're going to be tall. And if you do plenty of exercise you will be broad and strong with it." Isaac bent down and kissed Trevor's forehead. "Now into bed."
They both climbed into bed, and cuddled up together. They were both soon asleep.
They were still not used to having no blackout curtains, so Trevor woke when the light of dawn began to percolate into the room. He woke facing Isaac. He opened his eyes and looked at the man, and realised how much he loved him. As he watched, Isaac stirred and opened his eyes. They smiled at each other.
"Do you realise, that this is the first night we have had together when we have not had to think about the possibility of Jerry bombs, or Jerry doodlebugs, or Jerry rockets."
"I vink we should celebrate the end of the bloody old war," said Trevor sitting up in bed, wide awake.
"How?"
"I want you to suck my cock. It feels as though it wants a good sucking."
"All right, young man. Just let me get to it."
Trevor hauled himself up so his back was against the headboard. He opened his legs to give Isaac full access.
Isaac wriggled down the bed so he could lie between Trevor's legs. He began with a prolonged bout of kissing. All over Trevor's stomach he placed kisses, all over his balls he licked, and finally he placed the hard cock into his mouth. He began to suck and continued to suck. Sometimes he ran his lips up and down. Sometimes he made his tongue stroke the head and rim of the boy's penis. With his fingers he stroked Trevor's perineum. Then he worked a finger deep into the boys anus.
Trevor was groaning with pleasure as he always did.
Isaac kept on.
Then Trevor began to feel something different. A tension began to spread all over his body. It continued to increase. It became almost painful. He began to squirm almost trying to escape from Isaac's attentions.
Isaac realised exactly what was happened. With both hands he grasped Trevor's hips and held that part of his body still.
But Trevor flailed around with his arms and head. He cried out a variety of 'ooohs', and requests for Isaac to stop.
But Isaac continued sucking even more powerfully.
The inner tensions became almost unbearable. Trevor could hardly breathe. He almost thought he was dying. He felt his cock would burst. But then came the release. He felt something gush out of his cock. He lay there panting as Isaac gently held his cock in his mouth receiving to the end every precious drop of Trevor's first emission of the juice of life and pleasure.
After a moment, Isaac, with a broad smile on his face, looked up at Trevor.
Trevor was lying there, his eyes were shut, and a smile of pure bliss was on his face. His eyes opened, and he looked down at Isaac. "I've done it. I've made spunk."
"Yes, young man, you've done. You have made spunk, as you put it. Trevor, you are now a man."
Trevor positioned himself alongside Isaac. They lay or several minutes in each other's arms.
"Thanks Isaac. Vat was 'ow we wanted it to be - together. You and me!"
"Yes, Trevor. Your first spunk in my mouth. Your juice of life in me giving me life. I hope it is the first of many times."
"Yea. When can we do it again?"
"When you feel ready. Probably a couple of days or so. But soon those lovely balls of yours will be in full production, and you will be able to make spunk several times a day. I don't know about you but I feel thirsty.
You like a drink?"
"Yea, please. Some tizer?"
Isaac got out of bed and went down to get a drink for them both. When he returned to the bed room he found Trevor parading himself in front of the full length mirror that was inside the door of the wardrobe. Isaac put down the two glasses of tizer, and came and stood behind Trevor. Trevor lent back against Isaac and Isaac pushed against Trevor.
"Vat looks good, seeing ver two of us wiv nothing on standing together." Trevor turned to face Isaac, they stood there hugging each other and kissing.
Trevor looked up at the Spitfire that Harry had made that was still above their bed. Neither doodlebugs nor rockets had dislodged it. "I wish 'Arry knew I'd made spunk. 'E would 'ave been 'appy."
"You loved your Harry didn't you?"
"Yea. Do you mind?"
"No, not at all. And I hope I will not mind, that I will not be jealous, when you come to love someone else."
"No! Never, Isaac."
"Yes, there will be that time. I shall always love you, Trevor, you have given me so much."
"I shall always love you."
"I hope you always will. But that does not mean that you will not love someone else too. Love can multiply; it does not have to divide."
They drank their glasses of tizer, and climbed back into bed. Soon they were both asleep.
Towards the end of term Trevor brought back from school a note for Isaac. Trevor handed it to Isaac, who tore it open.
"The head teacher wants to see me, Trev. Do you know what it's about?"
Trevor shook his head.
"You been in trouble?"
"No! Not at all."
"You been misbehaving in class, or fighting in the playground?"
"No, Isaac. Honest."
Isaac arranged to get away from work early, and made his way to Trevor's school. He was conducted into the head teacher's study. The head welcomed him and shook his hand, and offered him a seat.
"I gather, Mr Rose, that you are young Trevor Russell's legal guardian?"
"I am, though it is rather unofficial. Trevor's father was killed in the blitz. His mother was having problems, she was working all hours of the day and had a series of men friends at night. Young Trevor was beginning to run wild, and getting up to all sorts of trouble. We met, and he seemed to attach himself to me. He started staying for the odd night, and eventually asked if he could live with me. After much thought, and discussion with his mother he came to live in Leytonstone. He still sees his mother every week. She is still his legal parent. I sort of have the day-to-day care of him. Why? Is he in trouble?"
"No, far from it. Let me tell you what happened. One of my staff, a Miss Carte, knows some German. In class one day she was telling them something and used a German phrase so that the class could hear what it sounded like. Then up comes young Trevor's voice, 'Shouldn't it be...' Miss Carter realised at once that she had made the mistake. After the lesson she asked Trevor to stay behind. 'Do you know much German?' she asked. 'Some,' he replied. 'How did you come to learn it?' 'My guardian taught me,' he said. 'What else does he teach you?' she asked. 'Lots of things. I know some French.' Miss Carter's French is better than her German, so she spoke to him in French, and immediately he replied in good French. They talked in French for a while. At the end of the day she came and told me all that had happened. 'That boy is not what he seems. He is bright.' I know I said, 'He has come out top of his class in the end of term exams.'
Isaac smiled with a mixture of pride and amusement: amusement at the whole episode and pride in Trevor's achievment.
'He was bottom of his class in his first term, and now he is top. He has this unexpected gift with languages, as well as no mean skill in Maths. His English - spoken and written, is improving greatly. The long and short of what I am saying is that he should not be at this school. There is a limit to what we can do for a boy of his ability. I know the head of the local grammar school. I got him to see young Trevor, and he got him to have a go at some of the exam papers for his age group at the grammar school."
"Trevor did not tell me all this," said Isaac.
"Probably did not realise it was significant in any way. I said nothing to him about it, except to ask him to do it. His French and German is much better than that of his peers at the grammar school. He has a patchy knowledge of geography, excellent in some matters, poor in others. His history is very poor. Maths and English would require some hard work. My friend says that with all the upheaval of the war he has a place at his school which he would be happy for young Trevor to take. It would require a lot of hard work from him, and I guess from you. But he is a child with real ability. I hope you can see your way to taking up this opportunity."
"I need to think, and talk it over with Trevor. But what else would it involve, financially and so on?"
They talked further, and it was arranged for Isaac to meet the head master of the Grammar School.
That evening back at home Isaac and Trevor lay in bed talking it all over. Isaac was pleased, proud, and enthusiastic. Trevor after some hesitation agreed to go to the Grammar School.
But that summer was not all joy and delight. Isaac rejoiced at the end of the war in Europe. But it brought with it a greater anxiety. He knew that he would soon learn the fate of his family back in Austria. How many of them had survived?
Footnote:-
- The school I went to had a doodlebug watch during that summer, and when one was sighted or heard the school bell was rung. Though I did not start at that school until the September.
Again there is a lot of personal reminiscence in this section. My family returned to London in September 1944. I heard a number of the V1s launched from the air, and too many cut outs of their engines. My regret is that I never saw one. I was in bed with an uncle [100% non sexual] when the first V2 exploded. I made the remark about V2s 'with all the callousness of