Date: Mon, 23 Mar 2009 19:23:44 +0000
From: Jeffrey Fletcher <jeffyrks@hotmail.com>
Subject: Jonathan 20

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.

My thanks to John and Brian who have read this through and made a number of
corrections and suggestions.  Any remaining errors , grammatical, spelling
historical or whatever are entirely my fault.

Thank you to those who have commented on my stories.  If you want to
comment on the story then do contact me on Jeffyrks@hotmail.com.  I aim to
reply to all message.

Jonathan 20

28th February

Jonathan and Malcolm thought the visit to Bill's had been a success.
Jonathan had got his money and collected his personal belongings, some of
which he had not seen since the end of August.

Jonathan went over to Luton on the Saturday afternoon. This was a good
time, as he then could see Abigail and Thomas, and the day was not
dominated by religious observance as the following day would have been.

Jonathan spent a lot of time with Thomas, learning from his young brother
the games on his Play Station.  There was a great deal of laughter, and
Thomas enjoyed doing better than his older brother.

It was obvious to Jonathan that Abigail and Thomas had been instructed not
to ask questions about his long absence.  He often wondered what exactly
they had been told.  There were times Abigail, being a bright fifteen year
old, gave her older brother some significant looks, as though there were
things she would like to ask, but knew she should not.

Jonathan's relationship with his mother was good.  When he arrived back at
his old home, Lois always gave him a warm hug and a kiss, and whispered in
his ear, "It's good to see you!"  She asked how he was getting on with
Gramps, hoped he was not being a burden and other motherly enquiries.

"I think Gramps likes having me around.  I often help him in the garden and
around the house.  I know he doesn't like dusting, so I do that.  He
absolutely hates doing the ironing, so I have started doing that.  He had
to show me how to iron a shirt and press trousers, but I'm getting better."

"How many shirts have you scorched?"

"None, so far."

"Pop is obviously domesticating you; that's a good thing."  The
relationship with his father was not so good.  It was not that they argued;
things were just strained.  Lois noticed that both Michael and Jonathan
tightened up when the other was around.  Things got difficult that evening
when Thomas had gone to bed, and Abigail was in her room finishing off her
weekend prep (homework) before the Lord's Day.

"What have you been up to this week?" Michael asked.

"I went up to town and saw Bill."

"Oh!  Why?"

"To get the money that he owed me, and to collect my things."

"So you have gone against my advice to take legal action against him."

"I thought it over a lot."  He was tempted to say that he had discussed it
at length with his grandfather, but he did not want to drag Malcolm into
this.  "I decided to see if I could get the money from Bill."

"You should have discussed it further with me."

"I already knew your views, Dad.  The decision was mine to make.  There
were a number of factors involved.  If I'd taken legal action against Bill,
I reckon it would have been hanging around, hanging over my head, for at
least two years if not longer.  I want to get on with my life, put that
behind me.  That is, if it got as far as court.  Bill has too many top
friends in the law, the police, and so on.  They would have got together
and fought tooth and nail to stop it getting out into the press.  And I
didn't want the press badgering me, and I am sure you would not want them
ringing you, and calling on the neighbours.  You know what they're like."

"You think it would have got to that?"

"Yes, Dad!"

"But there is an issue of justice involved here.  You were, in effect, held
in a cell against your will, and beaten."

"Yes, Dad.  I weighed up all that when thinking it over."

"Does your grandfather know about this?"

"He came up to Bill's place with me."

Michael's eyes showed real surprise.  "Did he meet this Bill?"

"No.  I saw Bill alone."

"Did you get your money?"

"Yes, more than.  Six hundred and five pounds more to be precise."

"Conscience money."

"That's what Gramps said."

"So he hasn't quite lost his marbles.  I thought you were earning good
money?  That's not much for six month's work."

"There was just under £10000 in investments."

"They worth anything?"

"Gramps has examined them, and says he wishes he had the same stockbroker
advising him on his investments.  He was amazed at how well they had done
in the present financial climate."

"Did he?  Dad's no fool when it comes to investments."

They talked on for a while over the events of two days before.

"I've been thinking, Jon.  I think you ought to be doing something other
than getting under your grandfather's feet and playing rounds of golf.  I
don't think you'd want to be under my eye, but there is a job going at the
Stevenage store.  I'm afraid the pay isn't what you've been used to, but
honest work rarely pays all that well.  What do you think?"

They talked over hours and pay, and Jonathan accepted.  He was to start on
Monday.

***

Jonathan was immediately confronted with a problem for Monday morning.
Stevenage was definitely not the easiest place to get to by public
transport from Whitgest.  Gramps needed his car.  On the first morning
Jonathan cycled.  He worked out a route that was fairly direct and yet
avoided the busiest of the roads.  Fortunately the weather was dry.  He
determined that as soon as possible he would get his own car.

From his earliest days Jonathan had helped in the family shop in Luton.
When his age was in single figures he had enjoyed `helping', often stuffing
waste wrapping paper into bags.  As he had grown older he had graduated to
more responsible jobs.  He usually worked for some time during each school
holiday.  Because his father was the boss, the two of them worked out how
many hours he should do and still allow time for school work.  But now he
was working full time.

He had met Mr Markham, the manager of the Stevenage store, several times
before.  It was decided that Jonathan would do different tasks for the
first week or so, before settling into one regular job.  He enjoyed that
first day.  Though the others working there knew he was the big boss's son,
his easy way soon made him a part of the team.  There were thirty men and
women working full time, and possibly a further twenty part time.

When he cycled back to Whitgest in the dusk of that March evening there was
a stiff breeze and a slight drizzle.  He arrived back at Gramps' with a
firm determination to buy a car.

Later that evening Michael rang to hear how it had gone.  Jonathan told his
father that he was thinking of buying a second hand car.  "Mainly to get me
to work and to get to Luton."

"Good idea.  Make sure you buy something road worthy, and that you're fully
insured."

"Yes, Dad," said Jonathan with a decided note of resignation in his voice.

"I'll tell Markham he is to give you some time off to get that organised.
He'll possibly know the best place to go for a second hand car.  You'll be
safer in a car than on a pedal bike."

***

Jonathan had felt very little sexual interest immediately after his escape
from Bill's Place.  His mind was taken up with other things, but after a
few days he found himself waking with a hard on.  This had been a frequent
occurrence in the days before he left home, but had been much less common
when at Bill's.  As Malcolm was an early riser, Jonathan had dealt with
this either in bed, or in the shower.  For a number of days that morning
wank sufficed.

But then he realised he was missing something more.  This really surfaced
in his consciousness on the Wednesday of that first working week.  As he
had to work on Saturday, a very busy day in the shop, workers were given a
day off in the week, and for Jonathan it was Wednesday.

It was a day when he could have a lie in.  Malcolm had risen a good two
hours before Jonathan became conscious.  He stretched out in bed, and
immediately realised his cock was hard.  He held it in his hand.  He
doubted now whether it would get any bigger, it was about six and a half
inches long, and satisfyingly thick.  He weighed up the alternatives of
dealing with it in bed, or in the shower.

Then into his mind came the thought that there were far better ways of
finding sexual relief than with his own hand.  He was missing lips to kiss,
a cock to suck, a body to hug, and an arse to penetrate.  What should he do
about it?  He remembered his words to Gramps about attainable and
unrealistic targets.  What did he really want?

The words he had spoken to Gramps about finding someone special with whom
he could be in a deep and loving commitment came into his mind.  Yes, that
is what he wanted.  He had loved Bob Fox, there was no doubt about that.
For several minutes he lay thinking about Bob and what might be happening
to him as he was being treated for his homosexuality in the States.  He had
tried to contact Bob by Email, but there had been no response. Would Bob
still be wanting what they had so much enjoyed together this time a year
ago? Perhaps Bob had changed, been `cured', been `healed', and might even
be progressing towards a marriage.  But these thoughts were getting
Jonathan nowhere.

He reviewed his relationships over the last six months.  There was Keith.
But no; there was nothing doing there.  There were three relationships from
his days at Bill's that were particularly warm in his memory.  There was
the relationship with Andy.  Andy had been helpful and considerate, and the
times they had been together sexually had been good.  But Andy was still
one of the Boys, and as the leader he was probably like that to all of
them, especially to the new ones.  Then there was Chink.  Chink had been a
good friend.  He had helped Jonathan deal with his nightmares.  The
occasions they had made love had been good, and had been an expression of
what they felt for each other, and not just a mutual seeking for sexual
relief.  But he could not see himself in a long term relationship with
Chink even if it were possible.  There was not enough in common between
them.  Then there was Ron, the ex-Boy, who had been the go-between for him
with his parents.  The times he had been with Ron had been good, some of
the very best sex he had ever experienced.  Ron seemed a nice guy.
Jonathan thought about trying to contact Ron.  It should not be too
difficult.  But then he realised that he did not know a great deal about
Ron.  He knew he had set himself up in business of some sort.  Of some
sort!  He wondered what nefarious activities Ron might be engaged in.
Ron's life style was almost certainly somewhat removed from his own.

Jonathan began to think over what sort of person did he want.  He lay back
in the bed, his hands behind his head, and his legs apart, with his cock
making a decided tent in the middle of the bedclothes.  He decided he would
like someone about his own age.  Older men were all very well, but as a
lifetime companion? No.  A mental picture came into his mind.  A younger
man with a body like the couple of young footballers who were members of
the club.  Beautiful body, with good muscles.  He was not unduly worried
about the amount of hair.  A profusion or an absence of hair both had their
attractions, he would not mind either way.  He thought he would like
someone with light coloured hair, possibly very fair.  What sort of cock
should his ideal man have?  About the same size as his own?  Yes.  Cut or
uncut?  He had experienced many of both at Bill's.  Again that did not
really matter.  What did matter was the character of the person concerned.

He began to fantasise on a situation where he encountered the man of his
dreams as he luxuriated on the bed. He kicked off the duvet so that he
could feel the air on his body.  He continued to fantasise about having sex
with the man of his dreams.  His cock grew even harder, and he knew the
time was getting close when his hand would have to go into action.

The bedroom door opened.  "Jon, if we are to play golf this morning you
need to be getting up.  Simon will be here in half an hour.  You've got
time to deal with your problem, either where you are, or in the shower."
With a leering grin Malcolm closed the door, and Jonathan heard him
chuckling to himself as he went downstairs.

***

Within ten days of starting work Jonathan had bought a second hand car.  It
would get him to and from work, and over to Luton when he visited the
family.  He was not envisaging any journeys further afield.

Mr Markham sent him to work in the storage department for the second week.
There were two men working there.  One was a much older man, Cyril
Clarkson, who had worked there for years, and was a walking inventory of
the contents of the stores.  The other was a young man of Jonathan's age,
called James, who had been working there since he had left school nearly
two years before.  There was rarely a slack moment.  When goods were
delivered, they had to be unpacked and examined, and placed in exactly the
right place.  When ever something was sold, a computer informed the stores.
Whenever it was necessary there were replacements to be taken into the main
part of the shop.  Often the older man would say, "They'll soon be wanting
some more ..." and he was usually correct.  He knew the seasonal variations
of sales.  So Jonathan and James were kept busy, doing this and that. There
was little time for personal chat.  Whenever Jonathan worked alongside the
older man, he would start telling Jonathan about how things had been twenty
years before.  He had started working when Malcolm was still the Managing
Director, and soon Jonathan found himself taking small messages between the
two.  With James things were different.  They had a number of quiet laughs
together at the older man's expense.

James asked Jonathan about his school, and what he had been doing since
leaving school.  Jonathan had a rather evasive reply to that question
already prepared.  "I worked at a gentlemen's club up in London, seeing
some top men got the service they required."  It was honest yet conveyed a
rather different impression than what was the actual truth. James was an
attractive young man, having a good figure, with firm well rounded buttocks
that were clearly revealed whenever he bent over, which he did quite
frequently.

Jonathan realised that he had had very little sexual experience with men
younger than himself.  Only once during his time at Bill's had he gone with
one of the young footballers.  His experience was otherwise, entirely with
men older than himself, some even old enough to be his grandfather.

James kept asking questions about Jonathan's school days.  His schooling
had been far less academic and indeed less sporting.  He had loathed his
school days, and even confessed to having been bullied quite a lot.
Jonathan had obviously enjoyed his school days, especially life in the
Sixth Form which was very different to life lower down the school.  James
had played football [ soccer] with a round ball, whereas for Jonathan
winter games were with an entirely different shaped ball.

James asked about friends; so much so Jonathan began to wonder if there was
some further, sexual interest.  Jonathan was uncertain how to respond.  In
spite of all his experience he had no experience, apart from with Bob, with
lads of his own age, on the open market as it were.  He was afraid of a
rebuff and of coming out in his father's shop.

The more Jonathan thought about things with James the more he began to want
some sexual contact with another male.  One evening back in Whitgest he
looked up `UK Cruising areas' on Google.  He had heard about such places
from the Boys at Bill's. A couple of clicks on the mouse and, to his
surprise, he saw how easy it was, he was looking at cruising areas in and
around Luton.  He was surprised' as for some of them he knew exactly where
they were, but had not known that they were cruising areas.  One of them
was just half a mile off his usual route to and from work.

The following afternoon on his way back from work he made a diversion and
drove past the area.  It was at a place where the road had been
straightened, leaving the old road as a large lay-by.  Bushes and small
trees had grown between the lay-by and the new road, almost completely
concealing any car on the old part of the road.  The other side of the
lay-by was a small copse, in which the undergrowth looked thick.  On that
first run past Jonathan did not drive in to the lay-by, but saw that there
were at least a couple of cars standing there.  He did not know whether
they were innocent travellers resting on the journey, or had come there
hoping!

Over the next few days Jonathan thought about it.  Should he or should he
not?  Did he dare, or not?  Eventually he decided to go into the lay-by and
see what happened.  Thursday March 12th was a fine evening.  The sun was
just dipping down below the horizon when he pulled into the lay-by.  There
would be quite good light for a further half hour.

There were three cars standing there.  The first and second were empty.
Jonathan pulled in and stopped between the second and the third car.  He
could see that the driver of the car in front was not seated in the car,
but was leaning against the bonnet of the car, with his back to Jonathan,
smoking a cigarette.  Jonathan sat in his car and waited.  There continued
to be no sign of the drivers of the first two cars, a fact that intrigued
him.  After seven or eight minutes he decided to get out of his car and
take a stroll.  He walked forward.

The man turned towards Jonathan as he passed.  "Nice evening for a change."

"It is good to get a breath of air after working inside all day," replied
Jonathan.

"Bad day, then?"

"No worse than usual."

The two of them looked at each other.  Jonathan saw a man, probably in his
mid thirties, with dark wavy hair. The car looked fairly new, and the man
was smartly dressed.  The man saw a young man in his late teens, with
gingerish hair and a strong healthy build.

"I often like to pull in for fag and a breath of fresh air on my way home
from work."  He lightly rubbed his left hand once over his crotch.

Jonathan had been told about signals gay men give to each other.  He did a
quick copy of the action using his right hand.

There was the slightest flicker of a smile of recognition from the man.  "I
often stop here on my way home.  Don't think I've seen you before."

"No, just started work in Stevenage and on my way home.  Wanted a breather
, as I said."

"It's interesting the guys who stop here for a while at this time of day.
They're regulars."  He flicked his head back to signify the drivers of the
cars behind him.

"I wondered if they were."

The man gave his crotch a more definite and longer adjustment. He reached
into his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes and offered them to
Jonathan.

"Thanks, but no.  I don't smoke."  Jonathan paused before making his next
comment.  "Not one of my vices."  He smiled.

"So have got some vices then, young man?"

"Oh, yes, quite definitely."

"That sounds interesting.  Are they solitary or otherwise."

Jonathan laughed.  "Unfortunately, these days all too often solitary."

The man grinned.  "I think that's a problem for many of us.  It is not easy
for us to find someone to share in the practice of certain vices."

Jonathan laughed, and rubbed his crotch.  "You can say that again."

"Is your vice best shared with one other, or with a group?"

"I think it's best with just one other, but a threesome can be fun."

Full grins were exchanged, they both knew where each other stood.

"So you haven't been here before?"

"No.  As I said, I've only recently started work in Stevenage."

"Most of the action takes place in there."  The man nodded towards the
copse.

"That's what I thought."

"Like me to show you round?"

"Yea.  That should be interesting."

"My name's Steve, by the way.  He held out a hand, which Jonathan shook.

"Mine's Jon.

Steve threw his cigarette butt into a puddle, where it sizzled briefly, and
led the way into the copse.

This involved clambering up a slight bank which was slightly slippery from
recent rains.  Once up and into the wood the going was easier. Soon the
cars were completely out of sight.  Steve pressed on for several yards.
Then he held a branch back and while Jonathan passed gave one of his
buttocks a definite squeeze.  A few yards further on Jonathan stopped and
turned round.  "Will this do?"

"Fine."  Steve reached out and felt Jonathan's hard cock in his trousers.
"That feels a good sized one in there."

Jonathan responded by feeling Steve's crotch.  "It feels as though yours is
asking for some attention."

"It's been four days since I have felt another's hand doing the necessary."

"Just felt your own hand there?"

"Yes, but that is never the same.  I always wonder why another guy's hand
is always much more satisfying than your own."

"When it's your own hand your brain knows exactly what is happening.
Where, how hard, for how long.  There is no surprise.  But with my hand
there you don't know what I'm going to do next.  There is the excitement of
surprise."

"I hadn't thought of it like that," said Steve.

Jonathan then pulled down the zip on the front of Steve's trousers, and
reached in.  To his surprise he was in immediate contact with the hard warm
flesh of his cock.  "Commando?"

"Oh yes; I like to be prepared."

Jonathan pulled Steve's cock out into the open air.  He could still see it
in the fading light.  "Now that's what I call a nice endowment.  Not too
big to accommodate."

Steve laughed.  "Now let's see your family jewels."  He unzipped Jonathan,
and reached into his jeans.  He had to negotiate the pants before he found
what he was seeking.  "And a nice one here.  So what do you like doing?"

"Pretty well everything with the right guy in the right place at the right
time."

"True, and now's not the right time or place for everything."

Jonathan bent down to give Steve's cock a suck.  He did not do it for long,
as the ground was far too damp to kneel.

"Thanks, that was good.  Now let me."  Now Steve bent and gave Jonathan a
few minutes sucking, but again the crouching posture was uncomfortable to
hold for long.  "I think our hands will have to do all the work.  Are you
into kissing?"

"Yes, I like that," replied Jonathan.

They kissed, while they held each other's cock.

"I find some guys don't like kissing.  You usually find they're bi.  For
some reason married guys won't kiss, think it's being wrong to their wives;
yet they are happy to fuck."

"I know.  I've found that."

"How long you been doing this sort of thing?"

"My first time was with a school friend just over a year ago."

"Cor!  You've been a quick learner!"

"Let's say I took to it like a duck to water!"

Very soon Steve started breathing deeply.  "I'm cumming."

Jonathan turned slightly giving Steve a clear field of fire, he felt the
cock jerk, and then three strong jets of cum shot out, landing on the
leaves two or three feet away.  Jonathan continued to hold Steve's cock, as
the rest dribbled out.

Steve's breathing returned to normal.  "Thanks for that.  Now your turn."

It didn't take Steve long to bring Jonathan to the point where his cum was
splattering over the leaves alongside Steve's.  "I feel better for that."

"So do I."

They used handkerchiefs to wipe their cocks.  They pulled their zips up.
They gave each other a hug and a kiss, and expressed thanks to each other
as they made their way back to the cars.

With the exchanging hope of "See you again," they got into their cars and
drove off.

When Jonathan got back to Whitgest Malcolm noticed there were traces of mud
on Jonathan's shoes.  He knew that that had not come from working in the
shop in Stevenage, but he said nothing.

***

Jeffrey Fletcher at jeffyrks@hotmail.com