Date: Fri, 14 Jul 2017 10:11:33 +0000
From: John <bokjay123@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Immigrants 1 of 12

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The Immigrants 1

By Bokjay   Comments welcome to bokjay123@hotmail.com
Chapter 1


For Stuart, his days as a civil engineer with a national construction
company were finished. Over time he had gradually got fed up with all the
travelling, living in temporary accommodation and being away from his
family and friends back home. It might not have come so quickly had his
father not become ill. His dad ran a small local contracting company and
had asked him to come and work with him on many occasions. But the prospect
of being in close contact with his old man every single day was not exactly
his cup of tea. When he became ill it was a case of closing the company
down or Stuart taking it on himself. These two events were the catalyst to
bring him back home. Only the year before he had bought a small house just
outside of town. It was a two-bedroom cottage and while not very big, it
had a wonderful view and sat on a lane hardly wide enough for a car, so it
was really quiet yet he could be in town within fifteen minutes.

Having cast his lot to take his dad's small business, he soon found that
all was not well. When he did a check of the books, he realised that his
dad had let the business slip as he became sick. He was at the overdraft
limit with the bank and had to count the pennies and be careful as to when
he could pay suppliers without having a cheque bounce. It became quite a
strain mentally and left no time for relaxing or enjoyment. When he bought
his house, his savings were not nearly enough to upgrade and change the
layout to how he wanted, but when he had spent up while still working as an
engineer, he had nothing coming from the business to continue with the
refurbishment. Apart from a couple of purchases, he made do with what
friends donated, chairs, tables and things. To save money he closed the
rented office in town and vowed to do all the paperwork from home. The
office floor tiles carpeted his cottage.

Often he lay in bed after a hard days work, his muscles aching and wondered
just what he had let himself in for. Out of the frying pan and into the
fire he often mused. Despite the yearning to move back home and get back
with friends, his social life had become zero. There had not been a
relationship for a long, long time. He often thought back to Richard and
Michael, wondering where they were now. His right hand brought the only
satisfaction remembering what seemed to have been unending sex. He often
told himself that he was exaggerating and it was not all that good, could
not have been that good. But in reality, it was the best he had ever
experienced in his twenty-six years.

His business employed four men "on the books". However, the nature of the
work was up and down and he regularly employed additional labour "by the
day" when needed. It was a never-ending juggling act to retain money from
customers paying for work done in cash and paying it into the bank. He
needed cash all the time yet he had to show a continuous flow of work for
the taxman so he had to be extremely careful how he handled things.

Another big headache was the type of people who did this kind of work were
very unreliable. Frequently they took the pay for the day and headed
straight for the pub. The next day suffering a hangover they were not
likely to turn in, so arrangements made for jobs often went haywire.  When
the business was running on such a tight shoestring these upsets were
catastrophic when say a lot of materials had been ordered for delivery the
next day and a quarter of his workforce didn't show up.

Things were brought to a head when he obtained four contracts from the
neighbouring city council. Usually, his father did about three jobs a year
for them but on his first try he had won four tenders at one go. It didn't
make him feel good at all. The first thing that leapt into mind was that he
had made a mistake in his calculations. He sweated over them for many an
hour trying to find something he had missed, but they appeared to be
fine. Another major difficulty was that they were big consumers of
materials and he would have a big problem paying for them. On the other
hand, on paper at least it told him the profit would slash his overdraft by
a considerable margin. He couldn't get out of the contracts, one way or
another he had to go for it.

He took the Purchase Orders to his bank manager and explained he might need
extra credit. The payment was sure, but by the time it came in he would
have to start paying his suppliers. All the manager would promise was to
look at any request to go over the limit on a case-by-case basis. Here was
some work that would set the business on the right road yet with an
uncooperative bank the odds were stacking against him.

He pulled the pickup into the street near the bus station on Monday morning
to meet Robert, the driver who for his big truck. This day he would need
two casuals and he expected to find a selection to choose from. Usually, he
let Robert do it as he knew them all and even drank with them, but
unusually he could still get up in the morning. Doubtless, his five kids
had something to do with it and his wife, well Stuart had met her once and
that was enough to know she shouldn't be crossed.

"You got anyone?" asked Stuart.

"Don't know what happened last night, none of the good `uns is in
today. Those over yon I'd not be having if I were you," he nodded in the
direction of a group he had seen many a time but never employed.

"Boss, you want workers, we want to work!" said a stranger interrupting
them. His accent was very unusual.

"Who are you?" asked Stuart.

"We come here to work. You need workers?" he repeated.

Stuart gave them a once over. Three young men, they looked cleaner somehow
than the usual but not exactly the type used to physical labour.

As if sensing the doubt the spokesman started again.

"We good workers, just try us, you'll see." Begging for work in such a way
was unheard of.  After a few seconds of silence, his tone changed from
selling to dejection.

"Boss, we need job. Please you give us job."

Something about him pulled at Stuart's heartstrings, the guy looked like he
was going to cry.

"We got all our papers," he started again, brandishing an envelope.

He took the envelope, which started to seal the deal. He had never dealt
with anyone who had "papers" and pulled out a few. They were many, with
letterheads in a language he did not comprehend and others with the
insignia of the United Kingdom Immigration Service.

"Okay, we'll give you a whirl.  £40 per day, paid when you finish."

"We work all time!" said the spokesman.

It flashed through Stuart's mind that if he was going to make a success of
the contracts he had in hand, he needed reliable labour that would be there
day in and day out. Casual labour was not the answer when he had a decent
workload.

"We'll see how you perform today." replied Stuart.

"What?" said the young man not understanding.

"You work today and I will see if I want you for every day, okay?"

They nodded in agreement and broke out in smiles.

He looked at Robert whose eyes rolled to the sky.

The spokesman put out his hand to shake the deal.

"Me Jan," he said, "This Miro and this Wit" as they stepped forward to
formally shake his hand. Quite different from the usual hiring procedure
with the local casuals.

"Robert, you take the others and start that new garage job, I will take
these and I can keep an eye on them, see how they perform."

Robert climbed up in his cab and drove off to begin the day's work.

"You guys, my name is Stuart, you will work with me today."

"Yes boss," they chorused.

As he was driving to the builder's merchants he began to quiz them.

"Where you from then?"

"We all brothers," said Jan.

They didn't look like brothers. One was fairly blonde with square features,
the other two black haired and looked quite different.

"You sure you are brothers?"

Jan laughed. "Sure, not brothers, but we live in same place"

"Where is same place?"

"Poland! I am from Poland" said Jan triumphantly.

"And your two friends from Poland?"

"Yes, we all from Poland."

Wit spoke up. "Me not Polish!" He said firmly.

Stuart glanced at Jan, thinking he was spinning a yarn.

"No, Wit not Polish, he from Lithuania, but he live Poland most his
life. He live in my street," he said with pride.

"I see." said Stuart trying to cast a map of Europe into his mind but
really he had no idea.

"How old are you?"

"Me 21, Miro 22" Then there was a little conversation before he
finished. "Wit 21, same me."

"Why did you come here to this town?" It seemed a very unlikely place for
some reason, certainly not a tourist destination.

"My friend said we might find work here. We tried his town but nothing. So
we come here today," he smiled broadly. "And look, my friend was right, we
have job!"

They elbowed each other and laughed.

Stuart didn't mind their age, he employed people younger, but they didn't
look like they were used to hard work. They were too clean cut somehow
whereas all his labourers were very rough around the edges.

"How long have you been in England?"

"Two weeks." said Jan.

"Have you worked anywhere yet?

"No job, you first to give us job." smiled Jan.

Stuart thought January was not a good time to be looking for work in
construction; they had picked a bad time to be moving countries.

"You don't mind working outside? It gets cold this time of the year, plenty
rain, snow, ice, you know?"

Jan gave a withering look. "You should see Poland, we have plenty snow," he
boasted. "This not cold for us, this good!"

So be it, thought Stuart.

They were lowering the public footpath so that a house built before the
days of the motorcar could have a driveway connected to the road. Local
regulations said they had to lower the pavement, install a dropped kerb and
ramp down at each side. Only contractors on the local authority list could
do this work and Stuart's business was one of them.

The lads worked hard, trying to impress. He could see that easily. But what
they didn't realise and Stuart impressed by, was their logical
thought. Once they knew what he was going to do, they were on to it so that
although never having done this particular kind of work before, understood
what to do first and what came afterwards. He had been prepared to have to
do everything himself and have them watch almost, yet they quickly grasped
the idea and he found himself not being the teacher he imagined.

Come 10 o'clock they had a break. Usually, if the householder was home they
would bring out tea and sometimes if they were lucky, biscuits as
well. Today the house was empty, likely they were at work. Stuart had a
sandwich he had hastily prepared himself in the morning, but the lads had
nothing and sat together talking. Stuart felt a bit uneasy having something
while they had none, but he was hungry and they were sure to learn what the
game was.

As the morning wore on, they began to get more at ease. Lifting heavy
concrete kerbs and shovelling hardcore began to level everyone. He could
see why Jan did all the talking; his English was much better than the other
two. But gradually Miro and Wit started to talk, asking questions and
wanting to know about everything under the sun.

Stuart began to like them. They were working hard and equally important,
showed common sense. Jan was the talker, always smiling if not laughing. He
kept joking with the other two but always while he was working, never
leaning on his shovel. Miro was very good looking Stuart realised. He had
not really studied them at all when they met, but as the morning progressed
he began to take note. His face was really handsome, square and a mop of
dark blonde hair that could do with cutting. Wit was good looking, tall and
slim as the other two. His dark eyes and long eyelashes really made Stuart
want to stare but he fought the urge. Jan was such a happy soul. Whatever
he said finished with a smile, the corners of his mouth making dimples as
he grinned. Stuart could imagine the girls chasing him till the cows came
home.

At 1 o'clock Stuart called lunch. He had another sandwich to fall back
on. Quickly he realised that they had nothing with them.

"You want to find a shop to buy some lunch?" he asked.

They spoke quietly to each other but did not reply.

"Eat, we eat now. You want to buy some food?"

They looked embarrassed for a few moments till Miro and Wit pushed Jan
forward.

"Boss, we don't have money for buy food," he didn't meet his eyes but
stared down at the floor.

Stuart knew the situation many times, his labourers having spent
yesterday's wage in the pub they only came back to work because their
pockets were empty.

"You like fish and chips?" he asked.

They looked at each other not understanding the question.

"Never mind, everyone likes fish and chips." he said. "Just stay here, I'll
be back in ten minutes, okay?"

They shrugged, knowing something was going to happen but not exactly what.

Stuart drove a mile or so to the nearest fish and chip shop and ordered.
He handed out the parcels wrapped in old newspapers. They could smell food
but the packaging had them wondering. It made him laugh as he watched them
warily peel back the papers.

Once tasted they set about devouring, all smiles and laughter. It made
Stuart wonder when they had last had a good meal.

By the middle of the afternoon, Stuart was glad he had given them a
chance. He really liked them and knew they were a big difference from the
usual casuals. If they stayed, it could be the beginning of a change for
the better.

At the end of the day, they drove back into town so that he could pay the
men and have a talk with Robert to see how he had got on.

"Boss?" asked Jan. "We work for you all the time?"

Stuart had already made up his mind. Even allowing for the extra exertion
of the first day in front of the boss, they were equal to his best workers
and better than nearly all the usual casuals.

"You like this kind of work?"

"Oh yes, much better than inside a factory. Working outside better, good
for health!" replied Jan, with Wit and Miro nodding in agreement.

"Okay, but I have to take your papers to the tax man. I've never employed
anyone like you before, so I have to check everything."

They nodded again although he doubted if they really knew what he had
meant.

He paid them out and waited in his pickup for Robert to arrive. They stood
talking nearby but didn't go away. Then Robert drove up and he spent some
time discussing his job. As he was finishing Jan came up to them.

"Boss, we don't have anywhere to stay. Can you help us?"

He looked at Robert. "Where is there in town they could stay?"

Robert thought a few moments and shook his head.

"Only Mrs Robinson at the bottom of town, she has rooms." He paused a
while. "But she lets only by the week." He stopped again. "And she wants in
advance, nothing else".

"That's it, only Robinsons?" said Stuart a bit amazed.

"There was another boarding house, but they pulled it down last summer, you
know where that new supermarket is going up."

Stuart was in a fix, he didn't have the money to pay rent for three in
advance and besides, he had been bitten before. Everyone was all promises
when they didn't have money. He had paid board for someone when he first
took over the business and they had gone off to work for someone else the
next day. He wouldn't do that again, even if he could afford.

Yet he really didn't want to loose these three, they were just what he
needed.

"Okay Robert, thanks anyway. Don't get too drunk tonight!" he laughed.

"No fear, the missus will have me guts for garters," he responded walking
away.

He turned to the expectant looking Jan. What to do, he thought.  Darkness
was descending already and it was rapidly getting cold. He shivered.

Then he spoke without thinking, just blurted it out.

"You could stay with me if you wanted. A bit cramped, you will have to
share."

Having said it, he wondered why he had offered and felt a bit embarrassed.

But Jan's face lit up and he turned around and called the others over.

"Yes Boss, thanks."

On the way home, he stopped at a supermarket.

"Look you guys, I live by myself and probably won't have anything you
like. I don't know what kind of food you eat, but you will have to buy your
own now so that you can have what you are used to, and make your lunch for
tomorrow."

"Yes, yes," they chorused and strode off to the store while he waited in
the pickup.

His mind was churning over. They looked like decent guys and really if they
weren't he had nothing of value to steal and no money on him now anyway. He
remembered lunch time, when they washed their hands before eating,
surprising him in such a small way because it was unusual for his labour to
be bothered like that. They had manners too, picked up the newspapers and
put them in the bin instead of letting them blow around. Yes, he thought,
they would be all right. He crossed his fingers hoping his instincts were
right.

When they piled into the pickup they were laughing and joking, carrying
bags of food, far too much so it seemed to Stuart.

"Boss, we got you a present," said Jan. "You a good Boss!"

He pulled out a bottle of Vodka. "For you Boss."

"Thanks, but I think you were buying this for yourselves," he laughed.

"Yes," laughed Jan "But you are going to help us drink. We have to
celebrate getting our first job in England!"

At the house, he showed them where things were; a little embarrassed that
it was so sparsely furnished and unfinished.

"Boss, we cook you dinner," announced Miro with some flourish.

Stuart tried to decline but they insisted. While he got busy with paperwork
on the table he kept an eye on them and noted his mother would have been
proud of how clean and hygienic they were. It made him relax and let him
finish up what he had to do.

Rather than be anything exotic, it was good old potatoes with pork and
vegetables, not a lot different from what he might eat if he had still been
living at home.

It was a bit like being looked after, for they did the cleaning afterwards
and left the kitchen markedly better than when they arrived. Later as the
TV was switched on, so the Vodka came out and the glass went around and
around, toasting each other, England, the mild weather (for them), finding
a good Boss and on and on. Till eventually there was an empty bottle and
four contented and relaxed young men.

Far from being employees, they were more like good friends.

Wit yawned and it made Stuart think they would be tired after working so
hard. A shiver ran over him as he thought about the next step, where they
would sleep.

Bedding was geared only for his own needs with a single bed in the second
bedroom. His bed was his one grand purchase, a king size double. He was
afraid of suggesting how they might sleep.

He called Jan into the kitchen.

"I know I invited you here, but as you can see I only have two
bedrooms. Two can sleep in with me, it's a king size so no problem there,
and one in the spare bedroom. If you are not happy with that then one or
two of you can sleep on the floor."

He held his breath, worrying that he and then the others would be upset in
some way.

Jan laughed out loud. "Don't worry boss, we are used to sharing."

"So you can tell them they can take a shower and we can go to bed."

They went back into the lounge. "Just one thing," said Stuart as an
afterthought.

"Does anyone snore?" he made the corresponding sounds. Two hands pointed at
Miro, who blushed.

"Well Miro, you have got yourself the single bed and your very own
bedroom."

When it sank in, they all laughed.

As they climbed the stairs, Stuart locked up and switched off the TV.

When he went up Wit had already finished, Jan insisting that he went next.
They were all stripping off, absolutely without inhibitions. Stuarts
nervousness ensured he didn't spring a hard-on while they jostled cleaning
teeth and drying off.

He went into the bedroom finding Wit already in bed. He did a double take
when he saw he had his shirt on. Curious he pulled back the cover a little
to find he had dressed in all his clothes once more.

"Wit, you can't go to bed wearing all your outside clothes, take them off!"

"Okay," he said simply and leapt out, quickly shedding every last
stitch. He glanced at Stuart before leaping back in again and gave a quick
smile.

He was so quick, Stuart hadn't meant he get naked, just not to wear jeans
and a shirt in the bed. That he had not expected, thinking modesty would
have him leave his underwear on. Still, Stuart didn't wear anything in bed
usually either, so he did what he always did and got in the other side
wearing nothing.

When Jan came in, Wit rattled off something in Polish. Whatever it was made
him laugh.

"We don't wear clothes in the bed," he explained, "But Wit thought you had
to give him permission to not wear anything."

Stuart couldn't help but smile at the reasoning.

Jan pulled off his tee shirt and underwear and stood naked.

"Boss, you move to middle, we keep you warm," he said making Stuart move.

The middle of the bed was cold and he gave an involuntary shiver.

"Boss cold? We warm you!"

He pushed Stuart away from him and onto his side, and melded his body
against his and put an arm around. He reached over and gave Wit a cuff on
the shoulder.

"Boss cold, help warm him."

Wit turned towards him but didn't cuddle up. Instead, he hooked his feet
under his and rubbed his side.

Stuart could hardly believe it. He was naked with two handsome men, one of
which was plastered to his back with the warmth of his groin glowing in his
rear end. Try as he might, he could not stop getting a hard on.

He realised quickly none of it was sexual in any way, just friendly and
innocent. Stuart knew he didn't want to spoil it by presuming otherwise. He
remained tense nevertheless until he could hear Jan's breathing slow as he
started to doze off. Wit rolled onto his back, stretching out his hand to
his thigh as if to comfort him. In minutes he was asleep. With that
Stuart's tension evaporated and the next thing he knew was waking up the
next morning.

As usual from habit, he always woke a few minutes before the alarm radio
came on. On both sides, Jan and Wit still slept on. The bed was plenty big
enough for three; he had enough room without touching either of them. He
felt like he wanted to stay in bed like this for the rest of the day.

The music started playing although being January it was still dark
outside. Half way into the song Jan began to stir. He sighed deeply and as
he groaned at the thought of his sleep ending, he rolled against
Stuart. Like last night he pushed him on his side and spooned up behind,
hooking his arm over his chest. The only difference was that he had a stiff
dick that pressed into his bum, to which he seemed oblivious.  Stuart could
feel his breath as his face buried into his hair. Every minute or so, he
would clench his buttocks which had the effect of pushing out his dick and
giving Stuart a bit of a stab.

Stuart didn't mind in the least, he had fifteen minutes of bliss before he
had to get up. He realised Jan liked to cuddle and he was going to enjoy
every moment. When the news came on it was the signal to get up. He gently
pushed Jan onto his back, following with him so that they lay touching each
other. He gave him a gently shake.

"Really, morning already?" he said slowly. He turned again into Stuart and
hooked one leg over his.

"Wit, time to get up," he said quietly.

"No, no good talking to him," said Jan coming awake.

He slid his body over Stuart and gave Wit a really hard poke and told him
to get up really loud.

Startled he turned onto his back, his hand going out to rest on Stuart's
thigh as if to steady himself. A few moments later he rose to sit up, then
unsteadily climbed out of bed and staggered to the bathroom.

Stuart was quite shocked. He had seen his dick before he dived back into
bed after undressing. But now he had a hard on and it was absolutely
massive, standing out at right angles. His eyes followed him around the bed
till he left the room.

"Shit," he thought, what an enormous dick.

Jan was still hooked over him making no effort to move, so he roused him
again making sure by throwing back the covers. He made no attempt to cover
up his hard on, so Stuart gazed at what must have been seven or eight
inches. Pulling himself together, he jumped up and quickly went downstairs
to put the kettle on. He would shower later after a cup of coffee, better
to keep away from them with morning hard-ons.

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