Countrymen

This is a story containing consenting sex between adult men. If this offends you, or is illegal in your country, or you are below the age of consent, you have been warned. You would be better to surf on elsewhere. If you are a regular reader and have written to me, thank you again for writing, and for your comments. If you wish to contact me please do so at

jeffyrks@hotmail.com

Resume:- Phil, a retired man in his 60s, has met Colin a farmer in his 40s. They have begun a close sexual friendship. Colin is a member of a gay group calling themselves The Countrymen. Colin is wanting Phil to become a member. He has already met Kevin in his 20s and the youngest member of the group. The evening before they had a meal together, and Phil told part of his story, and they had a threesome.

The Countrymen Part 5.

I slept late the next morning. And when I showered my cock was still saying that he had had a strenuous time the night before. I thought over the considerable change in my life style that the last few weeks had brought. Sex was no longer a thing of the past for me. I was now in a vibrant relationship with two wonderful guys, both eager for get-togethers whenever possible.

Colin rang early on that Saturday morning, just to check on how I was. I reported that I was fine except for my slightly over employed cock, and sore arse. He laughed and said his cock was the same, and that his arse was looking forward to some action. We arranged that I would go out and spend the night with him on Thursday. I walked into town on that Saturday morning, to do a little shopping and to have a coffee with a non-gay friend. The rest of the weekend went quietly.

It was late on the Monday morning when the phone rang. It was Kevin. Was I going to be in about 3.00pm? He would call in if possible.

Kevin worked for a firm that dealt with photocopiers. His job was servicing them, or more often rushing around the county doing urgent repair jobs when something went wrong. This meant that he could be called away to attend to some malfunctioning photocopier at a moments notice. But it also meant that having done some servicing, he had nothing else to do except be ready to go out on call.

He expected to be through with a service not too far from me by about 2.30pm. He would be on call, but he'd like to see me.

Just hearing his voice activated my landing gear. I knew what he would be wanting, and I would be wanting the same thing. My cock became quite stiff at the thought.

Sure enough, at 2.45pm there was a ring on the door bell. When I opened it, in bounced Kevin. He explained that he was on call, and that if his mobile rang he would have to leave quickly. We had a quick hug, and I offered him a drink. He asked for coffee, so we made our way through to the kitchen. I put the heating jug on, and put some instant coffee in a couple of mugs.

As I was doing this he came up behind me, and put his hands round me, and pressed his crotch into my backside. I had already worked out what I was going to do, and had been waiting for him to make the first move. I turned quickly and put my arms round him, gripping him in a bear hug and pinning his arms to his side. We started kissing, deep tongue fencing kisses. We ground our groins together. I began to respond, and felt him harden. Then in one move I ceased to hug him and went down on my knees. I unzipped him, and put my hand in to find his stiffening cock. A little bit of manoeuvring brought his now stiff cock out into the open. It was there in its hardened glory. Nearly seven inches, with its cheeky curve. I immediately placed it in my mouth and proceeded to suck. He groaned appreciatively. I reached up and undid the buckle on his belt, and the top clip of his trousers. I pulled them down so he was just standing in his shirt and pants. I had to withdraw my mouth as I pulled down his pants. I quickly resumed giving his cock the attention that it was due.

I had not forgotten the skills I had learnt in previous years. My aim was to make him cum quickly. He began to groan, and then started complaining that he was going to cum too quickly. At that point the water began to boil. I gently pushed him over towards the water jug and mugs. He shuffled across, and I crawled with him on my knees, keeping my mouth firmly over his cock. He poured the water on the coffee. This done I set to work. He tried to make me slow down or stop. But I was not having any. He kept trying to protest. Then he relaxed, giving way to the inevitable. My hand cupping his balls felt them rise. His cock seemed to grow even harder and thicker, and then with a great pulsating paroxysm he shot several loads into my mouth. I swallowed quickly, not loosing a drop. Then continued to suck until the last drop had been savoured in my mouth.

"Phil! Phil. That was great. I have never had such a quick and totally fulfilling blow job as that. You've got a great skill."

I stood up and kissed him. "I don't seem to have lost all my old technique!

Glad you enjoyed it. Let's go and drink our coffee in the front room. I took the two mugs. He bent down and pulled up his pants and trousers and made his way into the font room. We sat on the settee. His trousers were still all undone.

"Thanks again. I must call in again."

"Any time. You know you're always welcome." I gave him a kiss. We sat close together with our arms round each other, breaking only to drink our coffees. We discussed Friday evening briefly.

"I can't get over the difference between your time at school and mine," said Kevin.

"Did you really have a bad time at school?"

"Primary and Junior were fine. I did quite well, Enjoyed it. The trouble started when I moved up into a much bigger school when I was eleven. I had been used to being a big fish in a small pond, now all of a sudden I was a very small fish in a very big pond. One thing may be ties up with what you said on Friday. I didn't like football. The boys at the school seemed to be obsessed with it. Would play all hours of the day or night given half a chance. So perhaps I was different because of that. The trouble for me started on the school bus. Living in a small village going to the new school meant a half hour journey on the school bus. There was a gang of older boys that always sat at the back of the bus. One day coming home, I heard them talking about me. 'I reckon he's a poof,' said one lad. It was the first time I'd heard the word."

"Really? In this day and age I am surprised you had not heard it before," I said.

"You must remember that I had a very sheltered upbringing. Not just a small village school. My parents are church goers. Dad a churchwarden. I even went to Sunday School when I was small, though we didn't call it that. My parents were strict. I think my not liking football, and going to church marked me out as different. I was also small for my age and slightly on the fat side at that time."

"I find that hard to believe. You're tall and slim now. What? Over six foot?"

"Six foot one in fact. I shot up in my last couple of years at school, but the damage had been done by then."

"Are you an only child?"

"No. I've got a brother some ten years older than me. He'd left home and was finished university when I started at the big school."

"So what happened when you were described as a poof?"

"When I got home I asked my father what a poof was?"

"What happened?"

"He just about hit the roof. 'Where did you pick up such filthy language. I'll not have such words used in this house,' he shouted. 'But what is a poof, Dad? I want to know!' 'A poof is a man who does dirty sexual things with another man.' Now I knew the facts of life. I'd been told them at school. So I had a bit of an idea about what they had meant. But I was more than a bit mystified. I was just beginning to get sun risers, you know - morning erections. I had not yet cum. My father then went on about it all being disgusting and muttered something about against the teaching of the Bible. Somehow I could not ask him more. I didn't dare tell him I had been called a poof. Of course, he should have enquired more about the circumstances in which I had heard the word. I think that episode was the beginning of a rift between my father and I."

"Did they call you that just the once?" I asked.

"No. They started picking on me. I began to dread bus journeys to and from school. They were calling me all sorts of other things as well. Gay! Fag!

Faggot! Fairy! Pansy! Shirt lifter! Shit prodder! And so on. I didn't know what half of the things they said meant. At first they muttered them under their breaths so only I could hear. Then they started saying these things louder and louder. Then others on thee bus joined in laughing."

"How awful for you."

"One of the worst things that happened was with a friend of mine. We had been to the village school together. We'd gone to each other's parties. We'd go round to each others houses to play. We were good friends. Somehow or another they found out that he'd been to my place during the weekend. They started questioning him. 'What did you get up to then?' 'A lot of getting up, I bet.' 'Did he get it up your bum?' 'Or did you prod his shit?' 'Which way does he like it?' Each comment greeted with a gale of laughter. they thought it was all very funny. That was the end of that friendship for me. He didn't speak to me for at least three months after that."

"Had you ever done anything sexual with each other?"

"No way. It was a totally innocent friendship between two young boys. I think the closest we ever got to being naughty was pinching a few biscuits from the biscuit tin when our mothers were out!"

"Kids can be so cruel to each other." I said.

"It all began to have a disastrous effect on me. I began not just to hate the journey to school, but also school itself. My school work began to suffer. I had begun in the first term almost at the top of the class. Over that first year or so, my position in the class slowly sank. My father got angry. He just could not understand what was happening with me. I couldn't tell him. He'd been so angry when I had asked the meaning of the word poof. The only good thing was that my mother intuitively knew that there was something going wrong. She tried to find out several times, but I dared not tell her because of Dad. I knew that she would have similar views to him. But she was loving and supportive even in her ignorance of what was going on. I increasingly became a misfit at school. I used to have a circle of friends, but now I was a loner. Nobody wanted to have anything to do with me. Of course, one of the things that happened was that over a period of time I found out what the various words they were using meant. I knew I was a victim of homophobic bullying. Though I couldn't have used that sort of term in those days."

"Couldn't anything be done at school. Bullying and all that sort of thing. Schools are supposed to be on the watch out."

"Most of it was verbal. That is much more difficult to deal with than physical abuse. Once in class there was a discussion about prejudice. The teacher asked about different sorts of prejudice. Various examples were made. Racial prejudice, class prejudice, religious prejudice and so on. The teacher commented on each example that was given, and how dangerous and wrong it was. I dared to mention anti gay prejudice. The teacher just looked at me and said, 'Yes!'"

"Nothing more?"

"No; nothing more."

"Why was that do you think?"

"It was that bloody Clause 28. He was just scared of saying anything about homosexuality because he was afraid of saying something that could be seen as promoting homosexuality, which would have been a contravention of Clause 28. I think I can claim to be one of those who were victims of Clause 28. Thank God that it has been repealed."

"Did anything else happen?"

"There was one other big incident. I must have been about thirteen. I'd no friends at all. So I used to go off on a cycle rides by myself. It was a lovely autumn day, when the sun was shining, and the leaves were turning brown, and beginning to flutter down in the wind. I was cycling down this hill. It was not particularly steep in any way, but the road twisted and turned quite a bit. I came round one particular corner and there coming up the road with their bikes were about five of the main trouble makers. Remember they were two or three years older than me, and considerably bigger. I slammed on my brakes, intending to turn round and return up the hill."

"What happened?"

"When they saw me that all called out. Things like, 'Here's our school pansy.' 'He's out looking for some brown.' As I stopped they were on to me. The biggest guy, a tall strong chap lifted me off my bike. Another one picked up my bike and threw it in to a ditch at the side of the road. They hauled me into a small wood at the side of the road. They pushed me around from one to another. Then one of them said, 'Now's our chance. Let see what sort of cock a fairy like him has.' The big guy grabbed me round the chest while the others started to work on anything from my waist down. I tried to kick them away. But my shoes and socks came off and were thrown to one side. They tried to pull off my trousers. But my belt was fastened.

'Undo his fucking belt, you silly twits,' said the big guy who was holding me. One of them undid my belt and they pulled my trousers off. This was greeted with a cheer, and they were thrown to one side. 'And his pants,' said the big guy again. He was really their leader. My pants were pulled off and thrown to one side. They looked at me and laughed. 'What a tidly little one.' 'Do you think all fairies have tiny ones,' said another. 'Course they have. How would they get it up another's bum. All queers have small cocks.' 'I wonder if we can make it go hard, then we will really see what its like.' 'I shouldn't touch it. You don't know how many arses its been up.' 'Looks as if its just been up some guys bum,' said another. 'I know what to do,' said another. He walked away and found some cow shit. Then picking up a stick and got as much of the cow shit on it as he could. Then he smeared it all over my cock and bum. 'I bet that's how he likes it.' So they went on. They were not gentle. The big guy let go of me. 'I don't like poofs,' he said. And he hit me in the stomach. I bent double and they all started laying in to me. Soon my nose was bleeding, and afterwards I had a black eye. Then laughing and having had their fun they went off.

"Did you tell your folk what had happened."

"I eventually got my clothes back on. I sat on the damp ground just crying.

Then I began to think what to do. I thought about telling my parents, but I knew there would be an inquest. What had happened? Why had they pitched into me? What was the reason? I remembered my father's reaction. I did not think I could face questions about whether I was gay. I was by that stage beginning to think that perhaps I was. So I decided to say that I had come off my bicycle. Wet leaves making the road slippery, and cow's shit in the road, made the story just plausible."

"What happened when you got home."

"Fortunately Dad was out. Mum was very concerned. I managed to get into the bath quickly. I washed out my pants, they had a lot of cow muck on them. I said that I had forgotten I'd got them on when I got into the bath.

Dad asked quite a lot of questions when he got back. He told me to take more care when I was on the bike, especially if the road conditions were at all damp. I didn't go out for any more cycle rides for quite a while, I can tell you."

"That's terrible."

"When I got on the bus on the Monday morning with my black eye, they started making all sorts of suggestions. Had someone's cock poked me in the eye? Had I tried to get off with the wrong bloke? The big guy said I'd tried to have sex with him so he'd belted me. That caused a big laugh. The only comment at school from a member of staff was just, 'Been in the wars, son?' He didn't expect an answer."

"What else did they do to you?"

"That was by far the worst. But they would frequently punch me, or trip me up. There was another time that I remember. It was after playing games. I never really liked games. We had showers afterwards. These were usually supervised by a member of the staff or a school prefect. They made sure there was no horse play. But occasionally for some reason or another, there would be no one there to supervise. There were three of the bully gang there in the shower. When I went in they started calling out. 'Here comes the school faggot.' 'Wonder where his cock was last night.' 'Has it grown since we last saw it?' I tried to take no notice, but they kept on. Some of the other guys around began to join in a bit. Others were embarrassed and got out of the shower as soon as they could. I tried to make it a quick one. But then they started pushing and shoving me. Then one of them tripped me over. I fell on the floor. That really started them off. They started kicking me. The shower then emptied of all except the three guys. I lay on the rough floor, and got quite grazed by it. It seemed to go on and on for ages."

"That's terrible," I said. "What did you do?"

"I curled up as small as I could, and tried to cover my head with my arms. I think I bore the marks of the bruises for a good two weeks afterwards. Suddenly, they stopped and started showering, or trying to leave the shower. I looked up, and there was a prefect looking into the showers. 'What's going on here?' he said. I glanced round. The guys who had been doing it were trying to look the other way without looking guilty. I must admit I was tempted to sneak on them. I slowly got on to my feet and said, 'Nothing. I just slipped over.' I continued to shower. They looked relieved. The prefect said, 'If you expect me to believe that, you'll expect me to believe anything.' He stood there looking around at us, as if wanting the true explanation. I kept quiet, finished showering and left to get dressed."

"What would have happened had you split on them?"

"I think the prefect would have had to have done something. But it just was not on to tell tales. And anyway, if I had have done, life would have been worse for me. I was scared of those guys."

Kevin was silent for a moment. It was as though he was remembering all the pain and suffering of those school years. "One little trick they were very fond of. Though they did it to a few other guys who they happened to pick on, not just to me. That was in the school loo, when we were standing at the urinal, they would push us in the back so we bumped in against the loo wall. Often it was wet, and not just from water from the cistern. They just picked on me. I dreaded going to the loo when I was at school. Those middle school years remain in my memory as a long period of pain and tears. I usually had bruises from them somewhere on my body. What they did make me cry, - often. I often cried myself to sleep. Then as I got older, and eventually bigger the physical abuse eased. But I was still dead scared of what might happen. They were hard days. I wondered if they would ever end.

I even wondered about ending it all when times were especially hard. I was so lonely."

I gave him a hug, and we sat in silence for a while.

"Thanks for listening. Vic is right, he encourages me to tell my story. Some how every time I tell someone the pain seems a little less. Thanks again." He gave me a kiss. "There was one good thing however. On my fourteenth birthday my parents allowed me to have a dog. We all went to choose one from the RSPCA. {Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals} I liked one, and asked my Dad what sort of dog it was. 'I think it is a Heinz dog - 57 varieties,' he replied. He later explained that he was refering to the old Heinz advert boasting of selling 57 different varieties. I chose that one and somehow he got stuck with the name - Heinz. It gave me something to love, and Heinz loves me. He's old now, and rather infirm, but he's still special. Of course, I had to take him out for walks."

"Weren't you afraid of running into the gang of thugs again," I asked.

"They did not live in my village. So I knew I was fairly safe in and near my village. Everybody there knew me. Also Heinz would have gone for anybody who went for me. He even got anxious and began to growl when Dad told me off. I think he would have gone for anybody who tried to lay into me. He chased rabbits and squirrels, and even caught one or two rats. Going out taking Heinz for walks meant that I soon met up with other dog owners. One man I frequently met was the new Rector. Over the next few years I got to know him quite well. We'd walk together and talk. Our dogs got to know each other, and enjoyed romping around together."

"What did you talk about? I always feel funny when talking to a parson."

Kevin laughed. "You'll soon get over that sort of thing. We'd talk about school. He went to one of those very posh top public schools. He's got a very posh accent. Posher than the Queen's in many ways. I soon told him that I was unhappy at school."

"You didn't tell him why, did you?"

"No. I was scared to do that. I gave the games excuse. I was then built more for comfort than for speed. He told me a lot about his school days. His was a boarding school. Got up to all sorts of tricks. I think he was happy at school. Anyway I'd meet him out walking his dog probably once or twice a week. As far as a school boy can, I got to know him quite well. I began to like him, and realised I could trust him. That all came about through walking Heinz. But that dog's a silly old thing. He would lie on his back having his tummy stroked for as long as you were willing to do it. I think I owe a lot to that old dog."

We sat in silence, but after a few moments, I lifted his shirt, and pushed my hand through until I could get hold of his cock. I gave it a squeeze. "Did this fella see any action during your school days."

"Only with my hand. I found the pleasures of wanking at the usual age. Did a lot of it. It was one of the few pleasures I had."

"Did you think about having sex with any of the guys at school?" I asked.

"Not really. Whenever I could I would glance at their cocks. Watching their development and comparing it with mine. But I had to be very careful. If I'd been caught the persecution would have been worse than ever. I was afraid during the whole of my school days that things would get worse than they were. I did not try to attempt anything." He paused for a moment in thought. "But something else happened that was to prove significant in the long run. As I have told you I was a church goer. When I was fourteen I was confirmed. There were only three of us in the confirmation class that time. The rector had only recently arrived. We are in a group of a parishes, he has five churches. He's the rector in our parish. Because there were only three of us we all got to know him quite well. The other two were girls, so I think he appreciated having me in the class as the only other male present. Perhaps he thought I chaperoned him!"

We laughed.

"At the end of the classes each of us had a sort of private interview with him. We talked about the classes. He asked about my faith, my family. He asked about various things. Then he said that there was always a sort of special relationship between a the priest who prepares someone for confirmation and the candidate. He said any time, whatever the matter, I could come to see him, and anything we talked about would be in complete confidence. For some reason or another I remembered those words."

"So when did this wonderful organ of yours first go into action with another

guy?"

"Well. As I said, I did nothing during my school days. But I had found out about gays. By the time I left school I was almost certain I was gay. When I tossed myself off, or when I lay fantasizing about sex like one does."

I nodded, "Yes, like one does!" We smiled at each other.

"It was always with a another guy. I had read a bit about it. I was noticing things on the television. There would be occasional articles in the paper about gays, and gay life. I began to put two and two together and hoped I was not making five. I began to realise that there must be other guys like me. I reckoned some must have already been having fun, but there must be others like me."

"In the closet!"

"Yes, in the closet. I came across that term and it took me a little while to work out exactly what it meant. Remember there was no one I could ask or talk about it with."

"So what did you do after school?"

"Much to Dads intense disappointment it was soon obvious I would never make it to university. My brother had gone, done well and landed a good job after he had graduated. It was suggested that I did a practical course for a couple of years at the Tech." [Technical College] "The whole set up at the Tech was much freer and easier. There was even a small Gay Soc. there."

"Did you join?"

"No I was too scared. I used to read their notices on the board, making sure as much as possible that nobody was watching me. I was still scared stiff of what might happen to me if it was known, at the college, or by my parents that I was gay."

"You didn't have an experience like Colin with Paul at college?"

"No my experience was very different. Though life did begin to improve for me. I had to have wheels to get into the Tech each day; so Dad got me a motor bike, and promised me a car if I passed at the end of the course. That bike gave me freedom. I was that much older, considerable bigger. I was no longer the runt in the litter. I even made some friends, I was surprised when for the first time a guy asked me if I was going for a drink with the a group of them. I was just not used to being treated by my own age group as a human being. All this helped me to become more self confident. Then there was the work. I not only began to enjoy the work, I started to do quite well. Even my old man was pleased with my progress. In the second year when I told them at home about some mark I'd got, or remark by one of the lecturers, he'd mutter about having to save up to buy a car for me. Mum used to give me a smile and a wink when he said such things. On the sexual side I just kept my ears and eyes open. I discovered what cruising meant. What a cottage was. I learnt that there were gay pubs and clubs. And even that there were saunas where gay men went."

"Did you go to any of them?"

"No. I was too frightened."

"So no action for this wonderful guy during your Tech. years?" I said giving his cock another gentle squeeze.

"No none!"

"So what happened after Tech?"

"I got a job working for this photocopier firm. I went around with an experienced guy for two months, and then went on a training course. This was held down at the company's factory and headquarters on London's North Circular Road. It was a four week course, to get to know the ins and outs of the various machines that they make. They put up the eight of us on the course in a fairly cheap hotel nearby."

"Were there any lasses trained?"

"No it was all men. Something very interesting and significant happened on about the third day. There was one chap on the course, who was a real loud mouth. Out spoken about this and that. Full of prejudices. He was anti almost every minority group. He reminded me of the large lad who had been the bane of my life at school. The inevitable happened. One day he started sounding off about gays. Out it was all coming, the usual torrent of ignorant bigotry. I felt terrible. Here we go again. The old fears began to sweep through me. I almost began to feel the pain and bruises of my school days again. Then another guy on the course. A very ordinary guy; though slightly older than the rest of us. Quiet guy; I'd hardly noticed him before. Said very softly 'I'm gay and I find your remarks offensive."

The bully exploded in a lot of splutter, and started shouting that gays ought to be locked up as they were a threat to kids on the street. The usual stuff. The other guy still very quietly said to him, 'Stop making a fool of yourself. You are speaking in total ignorance of the facts." The bully looked round for support from others in the group. I think the bully would have liked to have landed a few punches. But he realised he needed to try and behave in an adult way. 'I can't stand men who want to stick their cocks up the arses of other men, when there are good bird's cunts ready made for that purpose.' The quiet guy just said, 'Did you know only 30% of gay men practise anal sex; and 15% of straight men practice anal sex at times with women?' 'I don't believe it,' said the bully. 'It was all in a copy of the lancet a few months back,' said the other guy. 'So that means that there are more stright guys practising anal sex that gay guys. You are more likely than me to have practised anal sex. And if you have, you did it, when a cunt, as you so delicately put it, was readily available.' The bully again appealed to the rest of us. But all he got from several of the other guys was , 'Lay off, mate. We're at the end of the twentieth century not in the bloody dark ages. If he's gay, let him be gay. He's not trying to make us gay. But you're trying to make him straight.' The quiet guy then spoke again to the bully, 'Do you know that this company we work for has an equal opportunities clause in its mission statement? Something about, with no prejudice with regards to gender, race, religion or sexual orientation?' The other guy just opened his mouth in amazement. 'Also, I guess you have never ever spoken reasonably to a gay man, and tried to find out what it is all about and like to be gay. If, and when, you are ready, I would be willing to enlighten you.' The bully then went off, muttering something about 'bloody perverts.'

"What was your reaction to that?"

"I was bloody gob smacked! Here was a gay man saying openly that he was gay, in front of a group of men he hardly knew, one of whom was strongly homophobic. I must have stood there with my mouth open in amazement."

"He certainly had some guts, coming out like that!"

"I think what also surprised me was his calmness and assurance. He was a man at peace with himself, and at ease with his sexuality."

"Did anything else happen?"

"We were frequently divided into twos to do various things. They kept shifting us around, so you might be with one guy for the first half of the morning, and another later. The time I was with the bully guy, Patrick was his name, I felt a bit uneasy. But it went off all right."

"Were you paired with the gay man?"

"Oh yes! Several times."

"Did you say anything?"

"Yes, I said I admired his guts in the way he'd handled Pat. He said something about bullies needing to be stood up to. When he said that a picture came into my mind of a twelve year old boy on his bicycle with a group of homophobic louts ahead of him. I wondered what I could have done then. He then asked me, 'Where do you stand on these things?' With some hesitation I answered, 'I don't know.' He looked somewhat surprised, and then said, 'In what way don't you know?' I swallowed and decided to take the plunge, 'I don't not whether I'm gay or not. I suspect that I am." He looked even more surprised, 'I was just asking whether you were as anti gay as Pat or where you stood. But if you want to talk about your uncertainties at any time, I possibly could be of help.' I thanked him and said that I'd think about it."

"Did you?"

"I thought about it over that first weekend. And next time we were paired off, I told him I'd like to talk. So that evening we went out and found a quiet pub and sat talking in a corner. 'What makes you think you might be gay?' he asked. I told him what had happened at school, my fantasies of sex with other guys. My fears and my desires. He then asked me if I liked myself. I found that a strange and difficult question to answer. 'Why do you ask that?' I said. 'Because too many gay men do not really like themselves. If you don't like yourself you are in real trouble if you are a gay man. Self loathing, self pity, guilt and so on. If you don't like yourself, other people will find it hard to like you. So what do you think about yourself, as a man, and with that body of yours?' I tried to answer his question, but I was confused. Looking back on it, I am not sure that I did like myself. He asked me if I was loved, really loved by anybody. I said I knew my dog loved me and I thought my mother loved me, but was unsure when it came to my father. 'Brothers and sisters?' I told him I had just one brother who was ten years older than me, who I'd never been close to. 'Friends?' I told him I was just beginning to have a few friends. 'Do they know about your sexual uncertainty?' 'No way. I'd be scared to tell them.' 'Understandable, after all you've been through,' he said, 'but you have no real deep friends if you cannot share that.' We talked for a good couple of hours. 'I don't know if I've been of any help,' he said. 'You've certainly given me a lot to think about, and that must be good,' I replied."

"Did anything further happen with him?" I asked.

"When it came to the second weekend he asked if I would like to go up to London with him, and he'd show me round the gay part. He promised I wouldn't need to get involved in any action - unless I really wanted to. He said that it might help me sort myself out."

"So you went with him up to London?"

"Yes, we had a good, and for me very interesting, time. Round Soho mainly.

We had a good meal in a predominately gay restaurant. Most of the tables being occupied by two men or occasionally four. We went into a couple of gay bookshops, that was interesting."

"Buy anything?"

"Yes, some books. Porny books. And my first copy of Gay Times. We went into a couple of gay bars, and also a tiny gay cinema, showing some very hot stuff. There was a lot going on there."

"Did you get involved?"

"No."

"Did he?"

"No. But the evening gave me an opportunity to find out a lot about him, his journey of self discovery, his first sexual encounters. He had been living with a guy for a couple of years, but they had broken up a few months before. This new job for him was a part of the rebound. I learnt a lot about gay life, and the gay scene from that day with him."

Kevin paused before continuing. "There was something else that happened on that training course. This guy, Steven was his name, mentioned that he had trained as a masseur a few years before. He still did it, though as a part time occupation. He said he couldn't bear the thought of massaging bodies for money all his working life. He wanted to be able to pick and choose who he massaged. He offered to give me one. When I hesitated before answering, he said, 'I know what you're thinking. You frightened I'll try and have sex with you?' I grinned at him and nodded. 'I tell you what,' he said, 'I will give you a massage and the rule is even if you want sex, there will be no sex. If you want sex, it will only take place at least twenty four hours after the massage session. And that will be your choice. I don't want to be thought taking advantage of you.' I grinned at him again, 'What happens if I get a hard on?' 'You get a hard on! So what? Just say to me I'm getting a hard on, acknowledge it. I might get one, I would just say, I've got a hard on. We both then know and are not trying to hide it from the other. 'Will you want me naked?' 'We'll do it professionally. Your interesting parts will be covered with a towel. I massage to the tops of your legs, and down to your navel. Your equatorial regions are strictly out of bounds.'

"Did you?"

"Yes. One evening in the final week. We did it in my room. He made me undress and lie on the floor, with a towel over my tummy and cock. He went out of the room while I got undressed. We had to do it on the floor so he could get right round me, he said that at home he'd got a proper sort of couch, like an operating table. When he got back into the room he told me to relax. He oiled up his hands and began to massage me."

"What was it like? I've never had an all over massage."

"It was great. He said very little. Just told me at a certain stage to turn over on to my front. He even held the towel so it was covering me the whole time. I don't think he even got a glimpse of my cock."

"Did you get a hard on?"

"No. I was totally relaxed, and thoroughly enjoyed it. The only bit he really concentrated on was on my neck and shoulders. He said there was a lot of tension there. When he'd finished he made me turn on to my back again. He said I was to lie there relaxed for as long as I liked. He was going to leave me, and get a drink in the bar. He'd see me there."

"No sex?"

"No sex. I lay there. I was totally relaxed. I think I went off to sleep for a few minutes. Eventually I roused myself, dressed, and went down to the bar. We talked for about an hour over a couple of bitters."

"Did you later in the week?"

"No. But I think that massage was important for me. It made me appreciate my body. I think I began to like and accept myself."

"So when did this cock of yours first see live action with another guy?" I gave his cock another squeeze.

He reached over and began to unzip my jeans. He put his hand in and felt around for my cock.

"My first live encounter, was while working on a call."

At that moment his mobile went. "Bloody hell. It always goes at the wrong moment." He fished around in his pocket for his mobile. He answered it. "Yes I can be there in about twenty minutes," he said.

He turned to me. "I'm sorry. I've got to be off. Let me give you a quick blow job." He pulled my cock out, and began to suck.

"Thanks Kev. I know I gave you a very quick one. Let's save it up for next time." I felt his tongue probing my slit. "You can owe it to me. I'm already looking forward to next time."

He pulled his head away. "You sure?"

I nodded.

"Until next time then!"

We began to make ourselves respectable.

"Yes. It'll make me look forward to the next time even more. But remember I'm going to be away for the next two weeks. I get back on Sunday fortnight."

"Visiting family again."

"Yea. This time its house minding, dog walking, and feeding the goldfish."

"Have fun. But be careful not to put back your qualification for the Countrymen."

"What do you mean?"

"Hasn't Colin explained it all to you. We practise safe sex if we have fun with anyone outside. But not with those inside. Colin are I used condoms with you last week because you are not yet a Countryman. To become a Countrymen you have to prove yourself free of the dreaded plague HIV, by testing negative twice with a four month interval between the tests, and no unprotected sex in between. Because you haven't had any sex for several years, you will only need one test. So don't blot your copy book while you are away."

"Not very likely. But I'll be counting the days until I can get back with you and Colin."

"And the others." Kevin looked at his watch. "I must fly. They'll be wanting to close up shop before I have finished repairing their machine."

We had a quick kiss, and he was gone.