Date: Wed, 18 Oct 2023 21:24:41 +0000 From: Scribbler Lad Subject: Tommy A Northern Lad part 9 Tommy, A Northern Lad-9 All In A Name Please consider donating to Nifty to keep the stories coming. https://donate.nifty.org/ I hope you enjoy the story, comments and praise welcome! Let me know what you think and any suggestions for Tommy and Chris. scribblerlad@hotmail.com Part 9 - All In A Name I decided to ease back on work, the new management team are working well, leaving me to focus on the A65 project and new ideas. I work from home Monday and Friday, to be a dutiful house husband to Tommy, the number two fucking butcher in my empire. The number one guy in my world. On Monday I'd do the washing, all those spunky crinkly, sweaty, often brown stained sheets, spunky towels, his smelly `kegs', socks and jeans and cook some meals for the week in between taking calls, zooming agents. On Fridays I'd work less, I used to feel guilty about it, but now I think I deserve one day `me time' in the week. I'd pretty myself up for Tommy, get the hot tub going, the beer chilling, steaks at room temperature, ass lubed, ready for my stud, the number two fucking butcher in my empire to come home and take me wherever he wanted, in the hall (rarely), the hot tub, (frequently), kitchen table (monthly), sheepskin rug (mostly) shower (daily), bed (nightly, without fail), sat on the pan as my number two fucking butcher in my fucking empire did a number two, washed it away with a number one then fucked me (occasionally). Sometimes Tommy would not shower for a week, through getting up late, rushing off or just bone idleness. I secretly loved it, his musk, his smell would amplify and overwhelm me, getting me hard at the merest whiff of him. After a few days I'd creep up behind him and burrow my nose into his musky arse. After a week he'd stink of dick cheese, crusty dried farts, acrid pissy stained underwear, sweaty arm pits, my cum, his cum, his socks. No one knew at work, the butchers shop is pretty whiffy so masked his bold smells. On Friday we'd fuck the moment he was home, in his stink, his essence, Eau De Tommy, after the act I'd bathe his sticky, smelly cock in my spit and lick his crusty arse hole clean, my nose buried in his arse crack, his cock throbbing, Tommy moaning for release, we'd shower, a caressing massage shower, getting him hotter, during which I'd fuck him, his hands leaning against the wall, bending slightly, his muscular arse cheeks level with my cock, I lubed him up and sank into his bum, Tommy groaning as I hit his spot. I quickly shoot my load, getting release. Then we'd eat. We'd screw all evening in the hot tub looking at the night sky, maybe later, we'd have long languorous fuck on the rug, in the bed or wherever Tommys lust overpowered him. The A65 project was going well, I have weekly meetings with the team, we went for a design an build tender, the guys know what they are doing and it means I can't fanny around changing things. We meet in portacabin offices on site. Very basic, every expense spared. Lots of hairy arsed workers digging drains laying pipes levelling off ground. The highways agency now want to dual sections of the road making the project bigger, but ultimately a better scheme. My village is design and build, fixed cost tender so I'm protected from the ambitions of HA and have protected legal access. Tommy is loving work, he's taking well to the responsibility and never talks or moans about his work to me, if we do chat about work usually it involves a new fit lad or Alan's theories on the size of someone's dick! We were in lying in bed after a particularly good fuck session, both in the afterglow when Tommy starts laughing, `I've thought of a name for the village, but first I want more of this', he grabbed my dick, it hardened in a nanosecond and he burrowed down the bed and took me in his mouth, throwing the sheets back for air as he let rip a real stinker, `you farted' he said, I laughed and shook my head, `I didn't, that's your aroma', `guilty as charged' he said, grinning up as me, my heart melted as he pumped my cock, to test its hardness , `I'm ready for more cock' he said laughing and got on all fours and waggled his arse at me, his balls look fabulous from this angle, he flexed his cheeks showing off his dimples, he let another fart out as I parted his cheeks, `you better put a cork in it quickly' he laughed, as I spat on his pucker, the spit bubbled up, `not another, you smelly git' I said as I plunged in `oh fuck, more cock, more cock, oh yes more cock' he moaned laughing as I rammed home `fast and hard please' he panted as I built momentum and shot in him, he pulled forward off and turned quickly to wank out his load straight into my waiting mouth. `So you like the name then?', `what name', `Moorcock Village', We fell onto the bed laughing, his eyes glistening with tears of laughter, his beautiful face creased, as he wrassled me pinning me down and kissing me firmly. `Dare we?' he said. The room stank of Tommy, I wouldn't have it any other way, I laughed as he ran down the landing to the loo clutching his arse. I followed him to lean on the open door watching as he let out a comedy sketch of loud noisy farts depositing my fresh load and a few logs down the pan, as he looks at me grinning he's chatting away, telling me that a Moorcock is a male red grouse. We squeeze into the shower and I wash Tommys arse and his back, smelling his scent, powerful at first, keeping me hard, my cock snug in his crease as I soaped up his broad shoulders, he turned to peck me on the cheek `we haven't time now lover boy' he said `a buyer from M&S is coming in first shout, I gotta be in early, what with the traffic', `yeah' I sighed, `this will have to do'. I spun him around and took his cock in my mouth and did my stuff as he face fucked a quick load out into me. I looked up a moorcock on the internet and Tommy was correct, it is a make red grouse. But something niggled me. Then it came to me; I remembered commenting that the A65 land purchase included rights to shooting on the grouse moor in the upland section of the parcel of land, most of which we weren't using for the development. I saved images of the bird and sent the suggestion to marketing, who came up with a logo and branding ideas a week later. Not only had we named the village but had a name that could eventually replace or augment the separate brands under the `Moorcock Group'. No one got the pun, except Tommy and Alan who said they loved working for more cock! At the weekly meeting Dave reported how the buyers meeting had gone, he said that the M&S pitch had gone extremely well and that Tommy was exceptionally good. He quickly built a rapport of trust with the buyers, by highlighting the strengths and a couple of weaknesses of our offer and how we were rectifying these. He was attentive and charming but tough when it came to pricing. That sounds like `My Tommy' as my mind wandered to the pounding he'd given me just an hour before, making me yell and seeing stars. Selling packaged upland premium farm reared lamb would be a great order to win. The next week we got an order for 200 packs of lamb rump, with their packaging. A test run. A big step. Tommy was thrilled. `oh man!' he said this is a game changer `more cock' I said, `yes please' he replied. I turned off the light and we played our games until we slept in a blissful, sweaty, cummy heap. Moorcock Village was getting delayed by endless variations by the Highways Agency road scheme, I said we couldn't wait any longer and demanded that we open the site to the public with the existing roads, this went down badly but these are legal rights of way and businesses (my business) depended on it. I didn't sleep too well, I worried if we'd over extended ourselves and needed reassurance, Tommy stirred `what's up' he said, I went through it, Tommy thought for a minute, playing with his soft cock and nuts like he aways did, pondering, `right, as I see it you've financed this by selling off property you never visited to buy property that you live in and work in, reducing the cost of maintaining those huge and from what you say gloomy old houses'. I nodded. `So it's not like you've gone to Las Vegas and blown it is it?, I nodded and smiled at him in the pitch black. `In fact I'd say you're quids in, were both earning wages, I pay my way on rent and food, we've both got company cars, get great holidays off, I'd say we have a fantastic lifestyle, and furthermore you're the luckiest fucker I know having me, so stop your bloody mithering and give me your fucking cock now, so I can get some stuffing kip'. Tommy rolled over, he put a pillow under his belly raising his arse off the bed. I felt his smooth arse cheeks, my fingers tracing the dimples. I spit lubed up to ease my entry, he'd still be loose from earlier, and I started kissing his nape. Then as I burrowed into his neck I entered him, he moaned softly and gripping my shaft with his arse muscles, I fucked him, he rocked me to a climax. I felt under him to see if Tommy had released, I felt his soft, warm but dry cock and heard a contented snore. I reflected on what he'd said and drifted off knowing Tommy was no fool and understood exactly what was going on. My fucking Tommy, my lad, my saviour, my Angel. Terry showed me around Moorcock Village on a cold wintry morning, frost on the ground, the moors, my moor, covered in frosting like a Christmas card, the sun just peeking over, lighting the sky a pink blue dawn. I gulped at the sight, the car park was awaiting completion, the mature trees in clumps looking as if it was all natural, the farm shop looking like a converted barn, joined to a more modern series of stone and pan tiled rooftops disguising the size and depth of the shop. A mature oak tree lined avenue walled in Yorkshire dry stone and with seating in the curve recesses if the wall lead to a small market square with a salvaged market cross and the entrances to the Farm shop, restaurant and garden centre around square. A disguised trolley park looking like a rustic shed was all that let you know it was a store. The interior concealed lighting kept the glare from your eyes as you entered the spaces, the light fittings not on show. The entry road had a small roundabout directing you to the village and overflow parking. In the next phase more housing and a themed pub and play area. Terry looks serious and says `Chris, after this opens, I'm gone' Find out what happens in the next installment. Cumming soon. As ever I love receiving your comments and suggestions. scribblerlad@hotmail.com