Date: Wed, 1 Jul 2009 11:40:48 +0000 From: Jeffrey Fletcher Subject: Jonathan 25 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 25 May-June 2009 Jonathan was like any other normal young man approaching the age of nineteen; he had a strong, healthy sex drive. Rarely a day went by without relieving himself. The set-back with James had driven him back on his own resources; but, because of his months at Bill's place, the desire for another male was particularly strong. He gave considerable thought to what might have happened if he had maintained contact with Steve, the man who he had met in the lay-by a couple of times, and who had invited him home. He thought that Steve would have had a more mature attitude than James to what had taken place when he had been working for Bill. He thought of going back to the lay-by, feeling fairly certain that sooner or later he would have been there at the same time as Steve. And even if Steve did not appear, then there would be other men there for some immediate relief and pleasure, if not some more lasting relationship. There were other places. He thought about a sauna. He knew there was a Greenhouse sauna in Luton; but there he was rather afraid that he would be recognised. If that happened in the sauna it might not be the end of the world as any man who recognised him would be there with identical intent. The real danger was if he was seen entering or leaving the sauna by someone who recognised him. Then he thought of going up to London. There were a variety of saunas up there. He remembered some of the Boys talking about them and their various merits. He knew that the punters regarded them as dangerous places for them in case they were recognised, but that did not apply to himself. Then there were other cruising areas not an impossible distance away from where he worked and lived. He continued to turn it all over in his mind. Then something happened at the third cricket match of the season. This was an away match against the village of Stuntingford. As usual Jonathan had gone into work early on the Saturday morning, and done several hours of work. Then he had driven straight to Stuntingford. The cricket ground was in a picturesque setting. The river Stunting flowed down one side, overshadowed by willow trees. On other sides there were the village church with its flint tower, and various cottages, some of them thatched. He pulled into the car park the same time as Malcolm and Simon arrived. "I suppose you two have been having some fun together, while I have been toiling away, so that your state pensions can be paid!" They laughed. "We did have more than a quick lunch together before setting out," said Malcolm. "You should join us sometime," said Simon, with a wink. "I've got something even more important to do this afternoon, beat the home team." "I hear they are a good side. Did well last season," said Malcolm. "Hope you have a good game," added Simon. Jonathan went into the pavilion, and was greeted by those members of the Whitgest team who had already arrived. He changed into his whites. Very soon the remaining members of the team arrived. There was the usual pre-match chatting, some serious, but mostly frivolous. They strolled out to look at the wicket, and commented on whether it would take spin later in the game. The umpires summoned the two captains, a coin was tossed, and Whitgest's captain won, and elected to bat first. Jonathan started to pad up, as he was one of Whitgest's opening batsmen. He faced the first ball. The bowler took a long run up, and he proved faster than most who played village cricket. Fortunately it pitched well outside the off stump, and Jonathan was able to leave it. He breathed an inward sigh of relief. At least he was not out first ball, as he had been in the first match of the season. But he now knew that this bowler had real pace, and might well prove difficult to play. The second ball swung slightly in the air, pitched on the ground, and straightened. Jonathan played it with difficulty, just managing to keep the ball away from his stumps, and without giving a catch. Stuntingford's opening bowler was a tall young man about Jonathan's age. He had a mop of black hair, and a sharp nose. He glared angrily at the batsmen all the time, and seemed to regard the fact of the batsman's continuing presence at the crease an insult to his virility. As he walked back to the start of his run up to bowl he could be heard muttering to himself. That afternoon was a real battle between the bowler and all the batsmen, especially Jonathan. The bowler was good, very good, and tested every part of Jonathan's technique and temperament. The runs came slowly and the wickets fell steadily. Jonathan was the penultimate Whitgest man out, - the ninth wicket to fall. He was convincingly bowled, the middle stump cartwheeling away almost as far as the wicket-keeper. As he walked back to the pavilion, the bowler muttered, "At long bloody last," and grinned. Jonathan had made 34 out of a total of 72, only one other batsman had got into double figures. Jonathan took his helmet and pads off, and removed his box, and wandered round to where Malcolm and Simon were sitting. "Well done, Jon. You had your work cut out this afternoon," said Simon. "That bowler is good, real good," said Jonathan. "Very difficult to play." "That was probably one of your best innings," said Malcolm. "If you hadn't been there batting on, we'd have been out for about thirty." "I don't think I made one decent stroke." "May be not, but you kept the ball safe for most of the innings. The century you made last year for the school was easy compared with your thirty odd today." "True!" The last Whitgest wicket had fallen and tea was taken between the innings. Jonathan jogged back to the pavilion for the usual tea provided by the wives of the home team. There were a number to be fed, the twenty two players, two umpires, two scorers, and other home club officers. Jonathan took a plate, and collected a couple of sandwiches, a scone and a piece of cake. If he had still to bat he would have taken less to eat, but he would be fielding for the rest of the day, and as long as he was alert and could run it was fine. There was not the mental strain of facing hostile bowling. He moved away from the table and moved towards other members of the Whitgest team who were holding a post mortem on their disastrous innings. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to look up into the face of the opponents' star bowler. "That was a real tussle. I enjoyed the struggle against you!" He smiled. "You're right, it was a real tussle between bat and ball. I reckon we came off with honours divided. I resisted through most of the innings and you got me in the end." The man laughed. "I'll accept that verdict." He paused. "My name's Jason, Jason Bonham." "Mine's Jonathan Pridham, but I'm called Jon by my friends." "May I call you Jon off the field, and Mr Pridham when we're playing?" He put out his hand, and Jonathan shook it. "That sounds okay by me." "Pridham. Are you related to the store chain Pridhams?" "Yes, my Dad's the big white chief." "So you learnt to play cricket at school?" "Partly, my grandfather, my two uncles, as well as my Dad, played for Whitgest in their time." "Real cricketing family. I can only boast of my Dad who used to score," said Jason with a slight laugh. "And where would we be without the statistics garnered and kept by our scorers. Do you live in Stuntingford?" "Yes, born and bred in one of the houses over there." Jason waved a piece of cake in the direction of some houses the other side of the cricket field. "Do you bowl, Jon?" "Only when the game is virtually over, or the side are really desperate." "Good, so you won't be out for personal revenge." "No way. Any way, I can now appreciate your bowling, though I didn't when facing it." They laughed. "See you later, Jon. They're about resume hostilities. I bat number eleven, so hopefully you won't see my abysmal efforts with a bat!" It was just after seven o'clock when the game concluded. Stuntingford had won by three wickets. The players changed back into their every day clothes, there was a lot of talking in the pavilion. The two teams mixed freely, now that the game was over. Those in the Whitgest team with wives and families usually went straight back home. Those who were unattached usually went to the local pub for a single drink with the members of the other team, before returning to home to Whitgest, and resorting to the Eagle and Child where they were able to drink freely as they would not have to drive home. Jonathan stood outside the pavilion waiting for Malcolm and Simon, when he again felt a hand on his shoulder. "Good game, Jon. You coming over for a drink?" This time the hand remained on his shoulder. "Yes, my grandfather has been watching the game, so I'll just have a word with him." "Did he play cricket too?" "Yes, in his time he played a lot." Malcolm and Simon came up to the two younger men. "Let me introduce you to my grandfather." Jason's hand came off Jon's shoulder as introductions were made. The four of them discussed the match, and Jason was congratulated on his bowling achievements by the two older men. "We must be going," said Simon. "Patricia [wife] is expecting us both back for a meal; and I'll be in the dog-house if we're late." "See you later, Gramps. I don't know when I'll be home, as I'll be going to the Sparrow and Kid [The villagers' nickname for the Eagle and Child] when I get back to Whitgest." Jonathan and Jason turned to go back into the pavilion, while the two older men went off to their car. "Does your grandfather live with you, Jon?" "No. I live with my grandfather." "Not with your parents?" "No. Diplomatic relations are rather strained on that front. Improving slowly, but it is much better that I'm with Gramps for the present. Do you live with your folks?" "Yes and no!" "What does that mean exactly?" asked Jonathan with a laugh. "Well, I live in the house where I was born. It is my parent's home, but they have a place in Spain and spend a large part of their time out there. So much of the time I'm on my tod. Getting to quite enjoy it, except for the housework, the washing and the garden." Jonathan laughed. About half the two teams adjourned to the Stuntingford local. Jonathan just had a bitter shandy as he didn't want to take on too much alcohol, having to drive back home. Jonathan and Jason remained together talking about cricket and life in general. When the party began to break up they exchanged telephone numbers. Jonathan drove back to Whitgest thinking that Jason was a nice guy, but little more. It was much later in the evening when he and Malcolm were undressing before bed that Malcolm made a significant comment. "Si thinks that Jason might be gay!" Jonathan, standing stark naked, turned to his grandfather. "Does he indeed." He stood thinking for a moment. "Maybe. He is certainly quite a tactile person. But my gaydar didn't register, but that is nothing to go by. I shall have to think about it." "He seems a nice guy. Even if he did make us lose the match." "I know that is an almost unforgivable sin in your eyes, Gramps." They laughed and got into bed. *** Jonathan thought long and hard about Simon's remark about Jason. It made him wonder whether he should ring Jason, and see what transpired. If he phoned he wondered when it should be. If he phoned sooner would it appear that he was too eager? If he left it too long would Jason think that he had got nothing better to do, and was just phoning for something to do? In the end the matter was taken out of his hands. When Jonathan got back from work on Thursday, he had a quick snack and went upstairs to change into his cricketing gear. Thursday evening was an occasion when those who could went round for practice. In the corner of the village ground nets had been set up where both batsmen and bowlers could practise their different contributions to the game. It was always a friendly occasion and taken semi-seriously. Jonathan heard the door bell go and presumed correctly that Malcolm would answer. He heard the blur of voices. Then Malcolm called upstairs. "Jason to see you, Jon." Jonathan tucked in his white shirt and did up his trousers, before going downstairs his usual two at a time. He found Malcolm and Jason talking in the kitchen. They simultaneously greeted each other with the usual, "Hi!" "I came over to see if you'd like to go out for a drink; but your grandfather says it is cricket practice this evening." "How did you find us; we only exchanged telephone numbers." Jason laughed. "The telephone directory showed only one Pridham in Whitgest so I presumed it was your grandfather. I don't work for the Police for nothing." "I didn't know you were a policeman. We'll have to behave ourselves, Gramps." "I am not a Police man. I work for the Police, in an administrative capacity." "The very presence of a policeman makes me start feeling guilty," muttered Malcolm. "What of?" asked Jonathan. "Oh, infanticide, fratricide, patricide and a touch of genocide on the side, and that's just for starters." Malcolm held out his wrists to be arrested. "Pity I didn't bring some handcuffs," said Jason laughing. "I didn't know Whitgest had such a criminal element." "I'll make my escape while the going's good; and leave you two to decide what you're going to do." "I promised just an hour ago that I'd be there," said Jonathan. "Why don't you come and join us? Our two sides aren't playing against each other again this season, as far as I know, so you wouldn't be spying on us or being a traitor to your own side." "But I haven't got the right gear. I don't fancy doing any bowling in these jeans. I sometimes bowl at practice in trainers." "I'm shorter than you, so my trousers wouldn't fit you. Let's ask Gramps if he has any ideas." Jonathan called Gramps who was sitting down in the sitting room; and when he answered they went into to join him, and put the problem to him. "Yes, your whites would just come down below his knees. I wonder if there are any of Kev's around. He's that bit taller than you. Let's go and see, I think I know where they may be. If Jan were still here she'd know exactly. The woman did have her uses," he muttered. Malcolm led the way upstairs, and fairly easily found some trousers which would fit Jason without being ridiculous. He then went off muttering about the things he had to do for the younger generation. Jason and Jonathan walked the short distance to the Whitgest cricket ground. Jason was immediately recognised as the demon bowler from Saturday's game. He was warmly welcomed, and invited to join in with both bat and ball. The hour and a half went well, and then as the sun got lower and the shadows of the beech trees lengthened across the ground, the men adjourned to the Eagle and Child. It was always a quick one on a Thursday evening as all the men had work in the morning, for some of them at an early hour. It was just before nine o'clock when Jonathan and Jason made their way along the village street to Malcolm's. They talked easily together. "Will you come in for a drink of some sort?" "Just a quick coffee, then I must be off." Malcolm volunteered to get some coffee, with muttered remarks about waiting on the younger generation hand and foot. Jason stayed and chatted with Jonathan and Malcolm for about twenty minutes. When he got up to go Jonathan went out to the car with him. "Good to see you, Jase. I think your joining in with the guys went well." "We have our practice on a Wednesday evening. Why don't you come over to Stuntingford and have a practice. We've some teenagers who have started coming along, it would be good if you could give them some batting practice.." "Surely some of your batsmen..." "Several of our guys commented on your technique. Said that you knew your strokes, and had obviously been coached." "Yea, there was a retired pro at school." "Well, what about it?" "Okay I'll come over Wednesday evening, unless it's pouring." "Why not come for something to eat first, save you coming back here first." "Okay, meet your folk." "' Fraid not, they're in Spain." Jason got into his car and drove off into the darkness. *** Jonathan and Kevin got into an established pattern of Emailing each other. Kevin was kept informed about work, cricket, and friendships. Jason was soon mentioned with the information that Simon thought that he was gay. Jonathan was uncertain, and wondered if anything would develop between the two of them. Jason was a good looking man, that much taller than Jonathan, with a thin though muscular frame. The fact that they had cricket in common was a big plus. Kevin kept on spelling out the attractions of New Zealand, and Jonathan was increasingly taken with the idea of going out there for a prolonged visit. "No point in coming half way round the world for a fortnight's stay," Emailed Kevin. "I'm not thinking of spending a small fortune on fares and so on for just two weeks," muttered Malcolm, when they had yet another talk about it. "I was thinking of six weeks or a couple of months. You can stay on out there, you haven't the burden of a house and garden to look after." "Or a boy friend back in England to play around with!" said Jonathan, only to receive a gentle cuff round the ear. "Jon, if you are really serious about going all that way, you must prepare your parents." The next time Jonathan was in Luton he took the opportunity to mention it to his mother, knowing she would pass anything he said to his more explosive father. "Mum, Kevin has invited me to go out to New Zealand." Lois stopped what she was doing. "I was afraid that would happen. You'll go out there, and not come back." She came across the room and put her arms round Jonathan. "I would go to see what it's like. And it is just over a day's flight to get there, or home from there. Would you miss me?" "Of course, I'd miss you. I've lost you once and I don't want to lose you again. You're my first born; I'd miss you." "It wouldn't be like the first settlers, ages for letters to be exchanged, we can talk on the phone, and Email." "I suppose so. But I know your Dad won't be happy about you going to stay with Kevin and his friend." "Poor old Dad, he's still finding it so hard to accept the truth about me, and what that means." Lois smiled at her son. She was torn between the two. She was struggling still to understand what it meant to be a homosexual person, and to square that with the teaching that had been given to her by her Church. Week by week on a variety of issues Pastor Willis with confident certainty proclaimed from his pulpit "The Bible says ...". It never occurred to all those in the congregation that it was not as simple as he made it out to be. It never occurred to them that the Bible had little or nothing directly to say on many contemporary issues, and that on many issues the need was to look at Biblical principles, and not to argue straight from certain Biblical texts which came from and spoke to a very different society two or more millennia before. Those who started thinking or asking awkward questions usually went off somewhere else, where there was a freedom to think. Sadly, most of those who left ended up without any commitment to a church, believing that the views of Pastor Willis were the views of all. Lois was an acceptor, not a questioner. "I struggle to understand, Jon. I have got one or two books about it out of the library, and we have talked together. But I find it difficult to reconcile what you and the books say, with what the Bible says." The tragedy in their relationship was that Jonathan was unable to enter into any helpful discussion with his mother because he had not heard or read those who were able to use the Bible in the non-fundamentalist way. ***