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,
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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 Michael who have read this through and made a number of corrections and suggestions. Any remaining errors , grammatical, spelling or historical or whatever are entirely my fault.
Malcolm's Boy Part 9
Saturday. 2July 2005
The Pridham household was soon busy on the morning of Saturday 2nd July 2005. Malcolm brought the usual cup of tea in to Janice. This morning she drank it quickly, and was first into the bathroom. There were various jobs she wanted to do before going off with Patricia for their day up in London. Malcolm followed her through the bathroom, he was looking forward to his day with Simon. The women were to take one car into Luton where they would catch the train up to town. The men with the other car were going to be left to their own devices.
Kevin in his small apartment in the old vicarage at Potter's End had also had a fairly early start, though not quite as early as when he had to go to work. He drove on the M40 towards London, and when he reached the M25, the London orbital road, he turned left, and then after several miles northward onto the A1.
It was just after ten o'clock when Patricia and Simon arrived at the Pridhams. Janice was ready. Simon got out of the car, and Janice got in, and soon the women were on their way to Luton station, and were not expected back until 10.30pm at the earliest.
Malcolm and Simon made their way into the house.
"Coffee? Beer? Or do you want to go upstairs straight away?"
"A beer would do nicely. Let the women get well away. We don't want them finding they have forgotten something and to come back and find us `in flagrante delicto'."
"Once in the family is more than enough. But I could do with an appetiser." Malcolm stepped closer to Simon, and put his arms round him. They kissed, and ground their crotches together.
"All in working order and ready, I feel," said Simon.
"I reckon we can have a good day. A session together this morning. Watch some cricket to give our genitalia some time to recuperate, and then some more in the evening."
"Sounds good to me."
They broke apart, and went through into the kitchen.
Malcolm got a couple of cans out of the fridge. "Do you want it in a glass?"
"Don't bother."
They went outside onto the patio, and sat together on one of the seats. They popped the cans, and started talking about the cricket season so far.
When they had sat there for about twenty minutes Simon thought he heard a car come up to the house. "Is that a car?"
"I hope not. We don't want any callers. It might be the vicar, or Reggie Ironside come to blow their tops over the disgusting increase of homosexual goings on in the village."
Simon laughed. "Hope not."
They heard the ring of the front door bell. Malcolm got up to answer it, leaving Simon sitting on the patio. Malcolm went and opened the front door. "Kev!"
"Dad!"
Malcolm opened the door fully and Kevin came in. Much to Kevin's surprise, for the Pridhams were not a very demonstrative family, Malcolm flung his arms round Kevin, and hugged him tightly.
Kevin's arms went round his father, and they stood there.
"I feel like the prodigal in the parable. This welcome is worth any fatted calf. Is Mum around?"
"I am afraid she's gone off for a day in London with Patricia. I was just having a beer with Simon on the patio. Would you like one, or a coffee/"
"Beer please, Dad."
The two of them made their way on to the patio.
"Look whose come, Si. I don't think you've met my youngest, Kevin."
Simon stood up, and shook hands with Kevin.
"You two will want to talk. I'll push off home. I'll probably go along to watch the cricket later. See you later, Mal." He disappeared round the side of the house.
Malcolm and Kevin sat on the seat.
"Your Mum will be sorry not to have been here. I'm glad at least I'm here. Why didn't you phone?"
"I wasn't sure."
"Of the reception?"
Kevin nodded.
"I think a couple of weeks ago the reception might have been different. Jan and I have done a lot of thinking. Paula has been a help."
"So I gather."
"We want to hear your story. I guess it's not been easy for you. I'm just sorry your Mum's not here."
"Maybe it's for the best. I think I'll find it easier to talk to just one of you, rather than both at the same time."
There was a short silence.
"Do you know Dad, I think the last time you gave me a hug like you did just now, was when I scored that ton for the village, when we were playing Bunting. And that was rather different, I got a lot of hugs that day, even from Michael. You don't know what your welcome means to me." A tear trickled down his cheek.
Malcolm put his arm round Kevin. "We English are too reserved and slow about showing affection, even to those we love."
Kevin looked up at his father, his eyes blurred with tears. "Do you love me, Dad."
"Yes, of course I do."
"Even after what has happened?"
"Yes. I remember being told of a woman who had several children, and she loved them all. She was asked, Which one of your large family do you love the most?' She thought for a moment before answering. I love most the one who is ill, the one who is in trouble, the one who is lonely, the one who is having a hard time of it'. I think, Kev, I now understand what that woman was getting at." He gave Kevin a squeeze.
The tears continued to run down Kevin's cheeks. Eventually he pulled out a handkerchief, and dried his eyes. "Thanks Dad. That's the first difficult hurdle over."
"What's the second hurdle?"
"I expect you want to hear how I discovered that I was one of these despised and rejected homosexuals."
"They're your words, Kev. I'm not sitting here with a gown and wig to judge you. I want to listen, and that may be the help you need. If you want some help, and even if you want some advice, I am here to help you, if I can."
"Thanks, Dad."
"We've got all day. There is no hurry. Take as long as you like."
Kevin sat for a few moments in silence, looking down at the paving stones in front of him. "I've done a lot of thinking, Dad, over the last few days."
Malcolm removed his arm from Kevin's shoulders, so that he could observe his son more closely.
"I don't know where to start."
Malcolm sat thinking for a moment. "When did you realise you were gay?"
"I've been trying to work that out over the last few days. There were hints, possibly clues, even as far back as my school days. I finally and fully realised when I was in New Zealand."
"That doesn't surprise me."
"Why?"
"Katie said that you were different when you got back from New Zealand. There wasn't the same oneness and closeness between you."
"She felt that?"
"Yes. That's what she said. So what happened in New Zealand."
"I met, and fell in love,....... with a man."
"What happened, Kev? Let me hear your story."
"I'm ashamed to tell you what happened."
"I shall listen. Any questions I ask will be to help me understand. As I said I am not a judge."
Kevin looked back down on to the paving stones of the patio, and sat in silence.
"I had been booked in to stay in a hotel in Wellington. There was all the usual tourist literature, brochures, leaflets and stuff in the room. On my second or third evening I was browsing through it. I wanted to find something to do over the weekend. I came across a leaflet describing various walks around Wellington. I thought that one of those would enable me to see a bit of the countryside. One walk went out a point overlooking the Cook Strait. That is between the two main islands. There is also a narrow channel from the open sea up into Port Nicholson, which is a large circular stretch of tidal water, where Wellington stands. I thought that sounds good. Then there was a mention of a bay, Breaker Bay, and it said it was a naturist beach. I thought that sounds interesting I've never been on a naturist beach. You're not too shocked, Dad?"
Malcolm laughed. "Good Lord, no."
"On the Saturday afternoon I did the walk, and walked along the beach and back. There were about thirty people there sunbathing or swimming in the sea. About five or six were women, all with men. The rest appeared to be single men."
"Did you take your kit off and join them?"
"No. I somehow didn't feel dressed for it."
"What clothing do you need for sunbathing in the nuddy, Kev?"
They both laughed.
"Perhaps it is better put, that I didn't feel ready for it that afternoon.
But I went back the next day. I caught a bus to the nearest point and found another way over to the beach. I walked along and half way back I took my kit off, and settled down for a sunbathe. I had also taken a book.
I thought I might be bored just lying in the sun."
"Were you?"
"I did do some reading. After about half an hour or so, this guy comes along. About my age. In fact, he's just a week older than me. He walked past, looking at everyone. He went to the end of the beach and turned round and came back. He stopped and placed himself close to me. If he had been any closer I would have thought he was invading my space. Do you know what I mean?"
"I think so." Malcolm had never gone to a naturist beach, but he thought something about personal space was true even in the close confines of a sauna. There was a sitting close with intent, and a sitting slightly further away with optional intent. "So what happened?"
"He stripped off."
"Were you watching with eyes like organ stops?"
"Dad!" Kevin paused. "I did steal a glance. He stripped off, and lay down on his towel. I was doing a bit of reading. Once or twice I glanced at him, and sometimes I caught him looking at me. He smiled at me, and I smiled back. We did this several times. But we were not looking at each other all the time. Sometimes when I looked he was gazing into the heavens,
or out to sea. I am sure I was not looking at him at all the times he looked towards me. Then once when I looked he was playing with himself."
Malcolm found it hard to cover a smile. All that Kevin was saying was familiar to him. He knew exactly what was going on, from times when he had been in a sauna, or cruising at various places, especially the car park in the country.
"He looked straight into my eyes, and gave me another smile. Then he spoke, asked me if it was my first time there. I told him I'd arrived from England just a few days before. We were just close enough to hold a conversation. We talked about his country, and this country, the similarities and the differences. As we talked he would play with himself from time to time, and his cock got semi-hard at one stage."
"Did you play with yourself?"
Kevin blushed slightly. "A bit."
"And smiled?"
"I guess so. Then he said he would have to be going soon, but wanted a swim first. I said, I'd join him. So were ran down into the surf. Oh, it was cold Dad. I think the water must have come straight from the Antarctic."
"I thought the seas were warm round New Zealand?"
"It certainly didn't feel warm. I know when we came out our cocks were shrunk to their smallest size."
Malcolm chuckled.
"This guy, Owen's his name, said he had to be going. I decided to stay a little longer, as I wanted to think over what had happened. I decided I liked looking at him. There was something about his naked body that really turned me on. I began to regret that I'd not given him more encouragement.
It might've been interesting. There are two ways onto that beach. One is a quite long walk along the beach, it involved walking across a lot of shingle until you get to the sandy part. That is quite arduous. The other way is by a track that comes down the steep hill, avoiding the craggy parts, down onto the sandy part. I could see very clearly both routes from where I was on the beach. I sat on the sand thinking; and as a matter of interest, watching to see which way this guy, Owen went. I sat there for some ten minutes or so. And there was no sign of him, either going over the shingle, or going up the track. I began to be intrigued. Where had he gone. I wondered if he had gone into some of the bushes that grew around the bottom of the track.
"Where had he gone?"
"I decided to go and see. I'd dried in the sun, and so I just had to put my clothes on. I was ready to go anyway. So I made my way along the beach.
There, much to my surprise, standing gazing out to sea at the foot of the track, was this guy. I walked up to him. I thought you had to go?' I was just enjoying a last look,' he replied. We chatted very briefly, but the conversation was difficult. So I decided to go. I was going back to the bus stop, and the easiest way was up the track and over the hill. He just stood there. When I was about half way up the track I looked back to see if he was following, or walking along the beach. There was no sign of him. I was now really puzzled. I wondered where on earth he had disappeared to. Then suddenly he appeared about ten yards ahead of me. He had scrambled up a steep and very narrow path through all the bushes. I wondered what was going on. He just called, Hi. I thought I'd go back this way.' I wondered why on earth he'd not just followed, or come up the track with me. We walked up together chatting freely. The track curls round, but there is also a faint path going out onto the point of the headland, just a hundred yards or so. There are bushes on either side. Have you seen the view from the end?' he asked. As I hadn't, we walked out to the end together, and we stood for several minutes at the end, and watched one of the ferries from Picton on the South Island turn into the channel leading up to Port Nicholson, and to Wellington. As we walked back he pointed to the bushes, Some guys come here for fun,' he said. I think my reply was just a simple, Oh!' I wondered down on the beach if you were looking for some fun?' He rubbed a hand over his crotch. I smiled and said, Are you offering?' If you want to.' Okay then.' He led the way into the bushes."
Kevin paused. "Dad, do you really want to hear all the details?"
Malcolm's cock was already rising as he listened to the story so far. He did not dare adjust his trousers, he just hoped the constriction did not become too painful, and that Kevin did not notice his erection.
"Carry on. I might as well hear the full story as imagine what happened."
"I was not sure what to do. But Owen took charge. We were standing in a little grassy clearing. He stood close to me, and reached out for my crotch. He immediately felt I was as hard as I've ever been. He smiled, and then to my surprise he kissed me. I don't think I'd been kissed by a man since we stopped giving each other a good night kiss. But this was different. There was passion in it. I felt his tongue probing. I responded, and also reached down to feel his crotch, and felt that he also had a colossal hard on. I won't go into all the details, and give you a blow by blow account." Kevin laughed. "A Freudian slip. He did give me my first blow job. It took a few moments. I warned him and tried to pull away, but he took my whole load fully in his mouth. Dad, I doubt whether you will believe me, but that was the most wonderful sexual experience I'd ever had, up until that moment."
"Katie doesn't?"
"No way. I once suggested it when I got back to this country. She said the whole idea was filthy and disgusting and I was never to suggest such a thing again."
"Can I ask, did you give the same to him?"
"Not then. I told him that it had been my first sexual experience with a man. That I was married, but had never been with a man before. Did you like it?' he asked. I think I nodded and said that I had. Would you like some more, or do you want time to think about it?' I told him that it'd been mind blowing for me, sorry for putting it that way."
Kevin and Malcolm laughed.
"He invited me back to his place for a meal. I accepted. I ended up staying the night, and a week later moved in with him for the rest of my time in New Zealand."
"Nights of passionate lovemaking?"
"During the days as well, over the weekends."
"So you got on well with this guy, Owen."
"Very well indeed. We just fitted in together. Sorry, Dad, but I don't seem able to say anything without it being a double entendre. We shared in the chores almost without discussion, doing the washing up, the ironing, the cooking. We had similar outside interests, had read the same books, liked almost the same music. To be honest, Dad, life with him was easier than it is with Katie. The sex just seemed to get better and better."
Malcolm thought over what it was to be young. "What was it like saying goodbye to this guy, Owen, when you left New Zealand?"
"Hard. Very hard. One of the hardest things I've done."
All that Kevin told him explained to Malcolm why Katie had noticed the difference when he came back to the UK. "How did you find it with Katie, when you got back?"
"I had the thirty or more hours between saying good bye to Owen at Wellington Airport, and getting back to York. I was glad for every minute.
I could think, and I could prepare myself for being with Katie again. I felt terrible. I felt guilty, I'd been unfaithful."
"How did it go when you got back to Katie?"
"I was worried that I wouldn't be able to get a hard on with her. Poor Katie. I like her, love her in one sense. But after a couple of times with her it got easier, though there were times when my mind slipped back to New Zealand."
"You continued to think of this guy?"
"Yes, Dad. The time with Owen had been wonderful. I felt that I'd discovered a truth about myself I'd never known before. Making love to Owen was in the Premier League, making love to Katie was all right, but it was Division Two."
"I didn't expect you to be using a football analogy," remarked Malcolm.
"I was sad. I'd really fallen in love with that New Zealand guy. I knew I was highly unlikely ever to see him again."
"Have you kept in touch?"
"Yes, though it has been difficult. I can write to him easily enough. He has sent me a few letters care of where I worked. I have phoned him about once or twice a year, when Katie has been staying with her parents or on a course. I usually ring in the early morning, because with the twelve hour difference it is the same hour though in the evening of the same day for him; if you get me."
Malcolm nodded.
"I rang him on Thursday morning."
"Told him all your news?"
"Yes."
"How did you find talking to him?"
"It was good. He's still someone special to me." Kevin was silent for a moment, before adding quietly, "He's invited me out to New Zealand."
"To live, or just a visit?"
"To live."
"Tempted?"
"Very."
"What about the guy Katie nearly caught you with?"
"Bill? He's married with two young kids. He's a nice guy, but I don't think I'd want to spend the rest of my life with him. We were never that close. And I'm sure he'd never want to leave his family. He thinks everything of his kids. "
"But with Owen it was different?"
"I've never lived with Bill. Never even spent a night with him. I lived with Owen for just over two months. We got on really well. Never fell out."
"You must do what is right for you. Your mother will be heart broken if you go out there. I might even shed a couple of tears at the airport."
"So you'd come and see me off?" said Kevin with a broad grin.
"Only if you flew from Luton. [Very much the nearest airport] Wouldn't bother if it was Heathrow, or even Stanstead."
They both laughed.
"But seriously. What about Katie, and your baby she's expecting."
"I don't think Katie would want me back. Even if she did, I don't know I would want to go back now. I now know myself. I'm gay. Now the break has been made I know that I can never be really happy, really fulfilled in a heterosexual relationship. I'm gay, and that's the direction for my life from now on."
"And the baby?"
"That's what would keep me here. But would Katie allow me to see the baby? If it is a girl she would be jealously protective, and if it was a boy she'd be afraid I'd abuse him."
"You may be something near right there. But it will be your child."
"I know, Dad. And I'll support both Katie and the kid. I'll make sure they don't want. It was just my luck that Katie should catch on. She was taking the pill, for the vast majority it is an efficient hundred-per-cent reliable form of contraception. But for us, with our marriage in some difficulty, Katie goes and conceives."
Malcolm thought carefully before speaking. "Did you know, Kev, that Katie had stopped taking the pill."
"What?"
"She told us this when we were up in York. When you came back from New Zealand Katie thought you had changed. I don't think she suspected that you had had any sort of affair. She just felt you were distant from her. She thought that if she bore a baby it would bring you both back together again."
Kevin sat looking down at the paving stones again. "I'm angry, angry with her for doing that. Not even talking it over." Then in a softer voice. "But also, poor Katie. She was trying to redeem our marriage. I am responsible. It takes two to make a baby. I don't know what I ought to have done. I am making a mess of several people's lives. My own, -- Katie's, -- my unborn child's, --yours and Mum's, and I am responsible for difficulties with Michael and Lois and with your friends in the village.
All because I discover I love men rather than women. If only I had known I was gay earlier, and had not got married."
Malcolm put his arm back around Kevin's shoulders. "Yes, Kev, you do bear some responsibility. But `some' only. You didn't deliberately get married, with the intention of coming out as gay after so many years. Some may say you should never have gone back to that beach near Wellington. You went, but you did not decide you would fall in love with this guy Owen. Perhaps when you came back from New Zealand you should not have made love to Katie any more, and so risk her conceiving. But I don't think you were completely certain even at that late stage. You acted then out of love for Katie."
The tears began to flow down Kevin's cheeks. He rested his head on his father's shoulder and wept.
"Thanks Dad. Thanks for listening. Thanks for not judging. You don't know what relief this morning has been to me."
They continued to sit in silence on the garden seat.
"I hope you won't tell Mum everything I've told you?"
"No. You can either tell her herself, or I will tell her a bowdlerised version."
"I don't think she would like the details that I've told you."
"I think you're right. She is very broad minded in some respects, but I think she would find blow jobs, and the other implications of your story difficult to take."
"I presume you're in frequent contact with Katie. Will you tell her I've been here today."
"I think I should. Unless you have a really good reason why I should not. Your Mum and I love Katie. We want to try and do the impossible, support her and the baby, he or she will be our grandchild; and also support you.
Vicar Bruce, and Reggie Ironside, may want us to cut you off with a farthing [See footnote], but you are our son. We were shocked when we heard. But Paula has helped us see, and your mother in particular, that you could have found yourself in far worse trouble - with the law, drink, drugs and so on."
"Dad, when you speak to Katie, tell her as much as she needs to know. I think deep down there is a part of me that still genuinely loves her."
"I think I can understand that. Maybe, maybe, you will be able to maintain some sort of civilised relationship. It would be good for the child to know its father, even if he is only a man who comes back from New Zealand from time to time. I certainly won't tell her about blowjobs on the beach near Wellington, but I will confirm that you met someone in New Zealand and fell in love with him."
"Thanks Dad. Thanks for listening. I really do feel like that prodigal son. You have been like the father in that story, meeting me when I was still far off."
"What, at the front door?" said Malcolm with a laugh.
"I was emotionally far off."
"And our Michael is somewhat like the elder son in that parable."
"Poor Michael. Everything had to be exactly by the book."
"He's a good lad too, but in a different way."
"And Stephen?"
"Doing what he frequently did when you were kids; keeping the peace, trying to reconcile."
"And you and Mum love us all equally."
"I hope so."
They continued to sit.
"Talking of the prodigal son has reminded me of the fatted calf. I cannot lay that on for you, but I don't know about you, I'm feeling peckish."
"Same here."
"Pity I cannot take you along to the Eagle and Child, but your presence would be round the village in two shakes of a puppy dog's. I'll have to set to, and raid the fridge, and see what food there is in this poor household for a starving son."
Malcolm's mildly complaining remarks confirmed to Kevin what he already realised. Things were right between him and his father.
"Your mother won't be home until sometime outlandish hour, 10.30 or possibly 11.00." said Malcolm as he made a salad. "Can you stay the night? She'd be most upset if she didn't see you."
"I can stay. But I need to get back so I have the evening to do several things, mostly household chores."
"I might even be able to rustle up something for us to eat later."
They chatted over mundane things while they ate their meal. They discussed the outcome of the General Election a month before, and more importantly the likelihood of England getting the Ashes back that summer. [See Footnote]
Footnote:- When Australia first beat England at cricket many many years ago, someone said that it was the death of English cricket. Some bails, the two small pieces of wood that rest on top of the three vertical stumps that make up a wicket, were burnt, and the ashes put in a small vase. The ashes have become the symbolic victory symbol for a series of five day Test Matches played between the two countries. The Ashes are kept permanently at Lord's Cricket Ground in St John's Wood, London.
Cut off with a farthing. In the dim and distant days of my childhood a farthing was the smallest coin of the realm. It was a quarter of a penny, in the days when there were 240 pence to the pound! It was a tiny copper coin, with a wren on one side - Britain's smallest bird; and, of course, the sovereign's head on the other..
If you want to comment on the story then do contact me on Jeffyrks@hotmail.com. I aim to reply to all messages.