Date: Wed, 23 Jun 2004 19:29:50 +0000
From: Jeffrey Fletcher <jeffyrks@hotmail.com>
Subject: Two Jubilees and a Spitfire  Part 24

This is a story that involves sex between males.  If such a story is
offensive, or illegal for you to read where you live,  then do not continue,
  go and surf elsewhere.

This is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives of any specific
person or persons.  If there is any similarity to any real persons or events
it is entirely coincidental.

The work is copyrighted (c) by the author and may not be reproduced in any
form without the specific written permission of the author.  It is assigned
to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it
may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written
permission of the author.

Michael and John, who usually read Chapters through  make a number of
corrections and suggestions, are both away on holiday.  So the number of
errors , grammatical, spelling or historical or whatever are entirely my
fault.

I am trying to use terms that were used by us who were young in the UK at
that time,  and not to use anachronistic terms,  like gay,  blow job, wank,
and cum.  It is surprising how difficult it is.

If you want to comment on the story then do contact me on
Jeffyrks@hotmail.com.  I  aim to reply to all messages.

Two Jubilees and One Spitfire.

Resume:-  Trevor has not gone up to Nottingham University to study for his
Ph.D.

Part 24.  Girls!

Trevor paid a preliminary visit to Nottingham early in the Long Vac. to find
somewhere to live.  The Accommodation Officer gave him a list of possible
places,  and with the aid of a map he looked at a couple of places before
settling on a place about a mile from the University.   Beeston had grown a
great deal during the late Nineteenth Century,  with houses of all shapes
and sizes.   He was looking for lodgings,  where breakfast and weekend meals
would be provided, somewhere where he could read and study as well as sleep.
  The place he chose was the home of a Mr and Mrs Bamford,  and their
daughter Betty.   Mr Ron Bamford worked in the offices at the Raleigh Cycle
works,  and his daughter worked in the research department of Boots the
Chemists.   Mrs Susan Bamford kept the home and was involved in a number of
charitable works in and around Beeston.

The house was Victorian.   There were three  good sized bedrooms and two
very small ones.  Trevor was to have one of the smaller ones as a bedroom,
and the other to work in.  The two rooms were considerably smaller than his
rooms in college at Cambridge,  but he thought that he would be spending
most of his working time at the University.

He went up to Nottingham in the first part of September.  He spent three
hours one morning with Double O Brien.  She kept throwing out suggestions
for possible areas for Trevor's research.  Each suggestion was made in a
provocative way,  and the two of them would discuss it at length,  or argue
heatedly.  Trevor was sent off to think these ideas over for a few days.

"What are your digs like?" asked Professor O'Brien as Trevor was leaving the
room.

"Nice house in Beeston."

"Landlady?"

"A Mrs Bamford,  husband works for Raleigh.  There is also a daughter."

"How old?"

"Two or three years older than me, I think."

"Don't get tangled up with the daughter.  No romances until you've finished
here," said Professor O'Brien.

Trevor laughed.

It was nearly Christmas before the subject for Trevor's  Ph. D. thesis was
fixed.  In the early Nineteenth Century Germany had been a patchwork or
small self governing units.  Some where ruled by Electors  like Saxony,  or
Hanover [It was an Elector of Hanover who had become King George I of Great
Britain and Ireland in 1714].  Some electors were bishops.   And there were
many other independent units of government.  Each unit had its own customs
rules and regulations.   Over several years in the first half of the
Nineteenth,  the various German states formed a single customs union,  the
Zollverein.  Trevor's thesis was to be on the economic benefits of that
customs union, on Germany and the rest of Europe.  He knew that his work
would involve visiting Germany,  where his knowledge of the language would
be invaluable.

***


On September 4th 1957 an event occurred that was to make a great difference
to Trevor's life,  and that of many like him.  He was preparing his lunch in
the house at Leytonstone.   He had turned on the radio to hear the One
O'clock News.   The sober voice of the news reader came on the air.  "This
morning the report chaired John Wolfenden into Homosexuality and
Prostitution was published.   Among several recommendations the most
controversial is that consenting homosexual acts when committed in private
should no longer be a criminal offence."

Trevor stood for a moment and stared at the radio.  Never before had he
heard the words prostitution and homosexuality spoken on the radio.  That
evening Trevor bought an evening paper,  and the following day wrote to
Isaac with cuttings from both the evening and following morning's paper on
the question.

In the following few days there was a great deal of discussion of the issue.
  The Archbishop of Canterbury,  Doctor Geoffrey Fisher spoke out in favour
of the decriminalisation of homosexuality.

It was to be another ten years before the recommendations of the Wolfenden
Report were accepted by Parliament,  and became a part of British law.

***

Trevor found life with the Bamford's in Beeston a complete culture shock.
For the first time since he lived  with his mother in Limehouse,  he was
living in a house run by a woman.  He had stayed for up to four weeks at a
time with the MacKenzies in Strontian,  but somehow that was different.  He
had stayed with the Driffields in Gloucestershire,  and that was different
in another way.  Mrs Bamford was a motherly sort.   She had brought up her
family of two sons and one daughter,  and regarded Trevor as another son, in
need of being cared for and mothered.  For the first time for a long while
he found his washing and ironing taken care of.  The two sons had left home
and were married,  one of them living out in Australia.

The biggest part of the culture shock was living in the same house as Betty
Bamford.    Betty was a couple of years older than Trevor.  She was an
attractive blond,  and also intelligent.   She had got a Two One in
Chemistry,  and had been offered a post in the Boot's Research Department.
There was a close relationship between the University and Boot's,  as Jesse
Boot,  the founder of the company,  had been a generous benefactor to the
original University College,  giving the land,  the first buildings,  and
endowing several chairs,  including that of the Jesse Boot Professor of
Chemistry.  But Betty brought Trevor into contact with the world of make up,
lip stick, and nail varnish; of stockings,  bras, and fashion.  Betty was
well paid by the standards of those days,  and her parents did not insist
that she contribute to the household finances at the market rate.  So she
had more money to spend on clothes and the other accessories deemed
essential by the younger females of her generation.

Trevor duly discovered one weekend that young ladies needed to spend an
inordinate length of time in the bathroom in the morning.   Fortunately on
week days Trevor was an early riser,  whereas Betty left rising  as late as
possible.    Mr Ron Bamford was also an early riser,  and soon he and Trevor
had an early morning ritual.   Ron rose first,  and made a cup of tea which
he brought up for Trevor.  While Trevor drank his tea  Ron went through the
bathroom.  When he had finished he knocked on Trevor's bedroom door,  and
Trevor went through the bathroom.   Downstairs they made and ate their
breakfast.  Their conversation was always restricted at this time of the
morning,  and both liked it so.   Often, while Ron washed up their breakfast
things,  Trevor took up cups of tea for Mrs Sue Bamford,  and for Betty.
This involved going into both bedrooms,  and for the first time since he was
eleven years old at his home in Limehouse  he saw a woman in bed.  Often
Betty was asleep and buried under the bedclothes, and all the response that
Trevor got was a grunt.  But there were those days when she was awake,  and
Betty sat up in bed to take the cup from Trevor's hands.  Most of Betty's
night-dresses were low cut,  and Trevor got his first glimpses of the upper
slopes of the breasts of a young woman.  When this happened he did not know
where to put his eyes.  On those mornings he beat a hasty retreat out of the
bedroom.

Trevor would then go to his room and spend an hour or more  working,  before
going up to the University for the rest of the day.

At the end of the day Trevor would return from the University sometime
between 8.00 and 9.00.  He was always invited to spend some time with the
Bamford family.  Often he relaxed watching the television.  At other times
there would be discussion.   Ron Bamford slowly opened up in his
relationship with Trevor,  especially when Trevor told them he had been in
Korea,  and when questioned, had told them what had happened on Hill 226.
Ron was very close to retirement and had been too old to serve in World War
II and just too young for World War I,  and  had a slightly guilty respect
for those who had seen action.

Sometimes of an evening Betty was present.  There were some lively
discussions as she could not see any justification for an intelligent male
spending time having anything to do with history.   "What use is it?" she
would say.

Trevor asked her questions,  but Chemistry was largely a mystery to him,  as
he had dropped the subject for his General School Certificate, so that he
could take a second language.

One evening,  about half way through November,  they were talking.   There
had been a lot of talk about the Oscar winning  film  The Bridge over the
River Kwai.  The result was that Trevor and Betty agreed to go and see the
film together on the Friday evening.

They caught the bus into Nottingham.    Trevor was acutely conscious that
this was the first time he had ever taken a girl out.  He worked hard to
remember the courtesies of the White House near Strontian.   He helped her
on to the bus,  and off the bus.   He paid for the cinema ticket,  though
there was some discussion over that, as Betty was an independently minded
young woman.  They sat and watched the film.

When they came out of the cinema Trevor suggested that they went to a pub
for a drink.  As he was new Nottingham  he left the decision as to which pub
to Betty.   Trevor had a pint of bitter;  Betty chose a sweet sherry.
There was further debate as to who should pay.   Trevor won,  but Betty said
that if they went out together again she would pay at least half, as she was
a woman of independent means, as she earned a salary while he was only on a
grant.

"But I am also a man of independent means.   I was left a legacy some years
ago,  and now that I'm over 25 I can get my hands on it.  That is why I'm
learning to drive.  As soon as I've got my licence I shall buy a car."

They talked about cars.   Ron Bamford had a car,  and Betty suggested that
Trevor asked her father to help him get in some driving practice.  She too
was thinking of getting a car.   They chatted some more on the way back to
Beeston on the bus.

When they got back Ron and Sue Bamford were just about to go up to bed.

"We'll leave you two to get something to drink, if you want something," said
Sue Bamford.

Betty got them both a warm drink.   They stood in the kitchen, talking some
more while they finished their drinks,  and then the two of them went up to
their beds.

In the couple of weeks that followed Trevor noticed that when he took the
early morning cup of tea up to Betty and she was awake,  there was less
effort to hide her breasts.  Trevor began to wonder what it would be like to
feel those shapely mounds of femininity.

Two weeks later, on the Saturday,  they went to a performance of Verdi's
Requiem in the Albert Hall in the centre of Nottingham.  Though Trevor had
been to performances of several Verdi operas this was the first time he had
heard the Requiem,  thought by some to be Verdi's greatest operatic work!
On the way back to Beeston they discussed the drama of the Dies Irae, and
Tuba Mirum, and the exquisite tenderness of the Recordare.

Ron and Sue Bamford were still up when they got home.

"I'll get you two a drink," said Sue, "and then we'll be off to bed."

The  only vacant seats in the room were on the settee.  They sat together.
Ron and Sue retired;  and  Trevor and Betty sat.

"Have you ever had a girl friend?"

"No," was Trevor simple and accurate answer.

"Why?"

"I was an only child, so had no sister.   I was adopted by a bachelor, as
you know.   I went to an all boy's school.   My best friends,  Fergus in
Scotland and Paul at Cambridge, are both only sons.   Though Ferg did go to
a mixed school.  I just have had little to do with the other sex.  This is
the first home I have lived in run by a woman,  and you're the first female
of about my own age that I have spent any time with.  Does that answer your
question."  Trevor grinned at Betty.

"So I'm a strange new creature to you?"

Trevor laughed.  "You could say that."

"Thank you for this evening.  I enjoy it all."  Betty stood up.  "I'm going
to bed."   Then to Trevor's surprise she bent over a planted a kiss on his
forehead,  and promptly left the room.

Trevor's mind was in a turmoil. What was happening?  What did that kiss
mean?  He sat alone in front of the dying embers of the fire,  and then
shrugged his shoulders and went up to bed.

One evening during over the weekend Trevor was working in his room.  There
was a knock on the door.  "Come in," he called.

Betty entered carrying a cup of coffee.   "I thought you might like a cup of
coffee."

Trevor turned in his seat so that he could look at Betty.  "Thanks.  That
was thoughtful of you.  I was beginning to think I must get myself a drink."

"How the work going?" asked Betty.

"Slowly.  I am wading through a mass of German statistics.  Trying to see
the wood  for the trees."

They both laughed.  "It can be like that at times," remarked Betty.    She
looked across and saw the Spitfire that Harry had made many years before on
the top of some book shelves.   "What's that," she asked picking it up.

"A Spitfire.  Made many years ago when I was evacuated from London down to
Somerset."

"Did you make it?"

"No.  It was made by a lad called Harry.  He made it out of a couple of
pieces of wood with a penknife.  One piece made the wings, the other the
fuselage.  It's come unstuck several times over the years,  but I always
stick it together again."

"It's not very good is it.  Very crudely made."

All Trevor's protective instincts came into play.  "Harry was only a young
boy."

"Why do you cart it round with you?" asked Betty.

"I take it to wherever I'm living.  I had it in my bedroom in Limehouse,
when I came back from Somerset.  It got blasted off the chest of drawers
under my bed during the blitz.  It went with me to Leytonstone.  It did not
go with me into the army, but it did go to Cambridge.  I like it because it
was made my first real friend."

"You still in contact with him?"

"No.  Though I often wondered what has happened to Harry.  He might be dead,
  or married with a bevy of kids, for all I know."

Betty put the Spitfire back in it place.  "It's good to hang on to some
things from one's childhood.  I have my old doll,  though it is tucked away
in a cupboard somewhere.   And who's that?" he asked pointing at the
photograph of Eric Hassock,  in his army uniform.

"I met him in the army. We were together in Korea.  He was killed while
trying to protect me."

"Where you friends?"

"We became quite close.  I think we'd have become much closer if he'd lived.
   But we were very different.   He was a farm labourer.  He could barely
read or write."

"Must be quite sobering to know that someone has given their life for you."

"It is.  I went and met his folk, after I came out of the army.  That helped
a lot."

"I must let you get on with your work."   Betty  turned and left the room.

Trevor stood and  picked up the Spitfire.  All the memories of Harry came
flooding back.   Perhaps one day he would try to make contact again.  Then
he looked at the photo of Eric.  He felt sad with the thoughts of what might
have been.

The following Friday Trevor and Betty went to the cinema together again.
When they got back Ron and Sue had already retired for the night.  Betty
went and got a drink for them both,  and they went to sit in front of the
dying fire in the sitting room.   Trevor went and sat on the settee,  and
when Betty came in with the drink she joined him.

They talked about their week while they sipped their hot drinks.  When they
had finished, they put the cups down.

Betty turned towards Trevor.   "Thank you for this evening.  I enjoyed it."

Trevor turned towards Betty,   "So did I."

"Going out with a girl is not too terrifying?"

"Not at all," said Trevor with a laugh.

Betty moved her hand and placed it on top of his.  "For a historian you are
all right."

"You're not bad for a scientist," responded Trevor, with a grin.

They both laughed.

"I'm going to bed," said Betty.  This time she did not stand up,  but moved
her face closer to Trevor's.  He knew what was expected.   They gave each
other a quick kiss.   Betty stood up.   "Thank you again.  Good night."

Again Trevor sat alone for several minutes.   The kiss had caused a stirring
in his groin.  He began to wonder if there were not sexual possibilities and
delights to be had with a girl.  He was puzzled about himself.

Their next outing together was the pre-Christmas performance of Handel's
Messiah in the Albert Hall in Nottingham.  After the performance they went
off to a pub for a drink.   Ron and Sue Bamford were about to go up to bed,
and after asking about the performance,  they left the couple.  Betty made
the night-cap drinks,  and again they sat together on the settee.

Betty asked Trevor about his religious beliefs.   He told how he used to go
to the college chapel at Cambridge.  He even told her about the experience
her had had in King's College Chapel.  He also mentioned Paul, who was now
training for the ordained ministry in Oxford.    He also gave her an amusing
account of the service in the Kirk at Strontian,  and about his attendance
there with Nanny Flora.

As they talked they edged closer.  It was Trevor who made the first direct
move,  he put an arm round Betty's shoulder.      Their heads turned towards
each towards each other,  and they gave each other a long kiss.  It was not
a deep tonguing kiss,  Trevor did not want to take things too far too fast.
  He felt a familiar stirring in his groin.

Betty took hold of his hand and placed it on her breast.  He gave it a
slight squeeze.  It felt soft and warm.  She responded by kissing him again.
   He was now only too well aware of his cock,  hardening fast,  and
probably becoming visible as his trousers rose.    He continued to feel her
breast.   She undid the top two buttons of her blouse,  giving him access.
His fingers went it,  much as they had often made a similar searching
entrance into the flies of  Isaac,  or Con, or Fergus or Brian.  He was
further aroused by the feeling of softness and smoothness,  but his soon
encountered the confining restriction of Betty's bra.    She realised,  and
lent forward,  and putting her hands behind her back,  undid the bra.  The
whole of Trevor's hand now went in and cupped her breast.  He did not think
he had ever felt anything so wonderful.  They kissed again,  long and
passionately.

Betty placed a hand on Trevor's thigh, and began to stroke it,  moving
further towards his crotch with each movement.  Then she cupped his cock and
balls through his trousers.   He might be a novice when it came to doing
this with a girl,  but she was no novice when it came to doing it with a
man.  She undid his fly buttons  and her hand made its entrance and grasped
his cock.

Trevor decided to make the next move.  He removed his hand from her breast,
and bent over a kissed the exposed parts.   Then he put his hands on her
knee and began to do what she had done,  moving his hand under her skirt and
over the smooth surface of her stockings.  He reached the top and felt the
smooth skin at the top of her thighs.  His fingers continued to explore.

But it was all wrong!   He did not think for a moment that what he was doing
was morally wrong.   It was in some way physically wrong.  It seemed that
something was missing.  There was nothing there. There was no wonderful hard
cock to welcome his hand.  There were no pendulous balls,  full of man
juice, waiting to pour out in joyful response to his ministrations.  There
seemed to be nothing,  only further on an orifice.  He could feel the warmth
and dampness of Betty's juices.  It was all wrong,  it was a total turn off.
  As if a switch had been thrown he began to lose his erection.   Betty felt
the erect phallus that she had been holding suddenly become a limp penis.

"What's happened?" asked Betty.  "What's wrong?"

"I don't know!   I'm sorry!"    But he did know.   Isaac's words to him of
many years before about girls,  and about being sure came back to him.  The
evening may have been a disaster with regards to Betty,  but it had
confirmed in a dramatic way what he had always believed.   His sexual
attraction was only for men.

They broke apart.  Betty buttoned up her blouse.  Trevor did up his fly
buttons.

"What happened?" she asked again.  "Don't you like me?"

"I'm sorry, Betty.   You know I've never done this before.  I'm a novice."
He decided to lie again,  the truth would be too costly.  "I don't know what
happened.  I am sorry if I've hurt you, or offended you.   Perhaps it was
the thought of your parents upstairs,  and your father coming down!"

Betty looked searchingly at him for a moment,  not knowing whether to
believe him or not.  She rose from the settee,  and stood for a moment arms
akimbo, looking down at him.   "I'm going to bed.  Good night!"  She stalked
out of the room,  shutting the door decisively behind her.

Trevor sat and gazed into the dying embers of the fire.  His sexuality had
been confirmed,  but at the cost of upsetting Betty,  someone  he liked.  He
wondered if he had put his position in the Bamford household in jeopardy.

He sat for an hour and half.   The fire went out,  and the room was cold
when he stirred himself.   Quietly he made his way upstairs,  not to his
bedroom,  but to the small room where he had his books and papers.  He
turned on the electric fire,  and sat down to write to the person of whose
love he was most sure,  and who would possibly understand - Isaac.

Trevor was pleased that Christmas was approaching and he would be getting
away.  He had a strong feeling that he was not Betty's favourite male,  and
that she despised him.   He wondered what, if anything, she had said to her
parents.

One morning over breakfast Ron had made the cryptic comment,  "There's no
understanding the female of the species;  don't worry about our Betty."

***

He took his driving test and passed first time.  He promptly went out and
bought a new Morris Traveller, with part of his inheritance from Nanny
Flora.   He hoped that she would have approved.  As he drove it away from
the garage where he bought it, he wished she could have been sitting
alongside him.   There would have been a lot that he would have liked to
tell her.

Isaac came back to Leytonstone for a week over Christmas.   The house in
Chelmsford Road was opened up, and lived in for a week.  Trevor still felt a
little uneasy when Isaac talked about Heinie.  He still did not like himself
for these feelings.  But they did talk at length about what had happened
with Betty.  No reader will be surprised to learn that most of their talking
it over took place in the warmth and comfort of their bed.  But there was
another subject that was talked about during their few days together.  Isaac
had made his long anticipated visit to Israel in late November.   He had
stayed with Joseph and his young family.  He had seen as much of the land as
he was able.  He visited three Kibbutzim,  and came away very impressed. He
was full of enthusiasm for Israel,  and again expressed an interest in the
possibility of settling there.


   After Christmas Isaac stayed on for a couple of days,  partly attending
business meetings in the City,  and then turning off the water, gas and
electricity and closing the house down before returning to Germany.

Trevor drove down to Gloucestershire to see in the New Year with Paul and
his parents.   As always he was made very welcome.   Every morning Trevor
and Paul went riding.  Paul said that Trevor sat on a horse like a sack of
potatoes.    They also played several frames of snooker each day.   Trevor
was beginning to beat Paul at times.  Trevor gave Paul a full account of his
life at Nottingham,  including the Betty episode,  much to Paul's amusement;
while Paul told Trevor about the parson factory in Oxford.   But all too
soon the short break came to an end,  and Trevor's Morris Traveller made its
way north to Nottingham.

***

Jeffyrks@hotmail.com