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.
August 2009
Jonathan and his grandfather made steady progress with their plans for their visit to New Zealand. They agreed to fly out together soon after the end of the cricket season. The plan was that Jonathan should stay for as long as he wished. Malcolm said he could only spare a month away from his home and garden, but Jonathan believed he could only bear to spend four weeks apart from Simon.
"All you youngsters today think about is sex," was Malcolm's response.
"It is in the genes," said Jonathan, "Inherited from my paternal grandfather.".
Kevin suggested that they spent at least two or three weeks exploring the North Island. He and Owen would join them for at least part of that time.
Just ten days before they were due to leave for New Zealand Lois phoned to say that there was a letter for Jonathan, and asked if she should send it on. Jonathan said not to bother, he would go over to Luton the following evening. The fact of a letter puzzled him, so he asked questions hoping that there would be some clue about the sender from the envelope.
"It is a plain white envelope, good quality paper. It is franked, not stamped. It is addressed to Mr J. Pridham, followed by our address. It is all typewritten. It sort of looks official. I hope you've not been in trouble, Jon!"
"Not as far as I know. Not even speeding, I know I've not even been stopped and breathalysed.
Jonathan was even more puzzled, as he received very little mail, and since his time at Bill's everything of what little he had received had come to his grandfather's house at Whitgest, nothing had come to him at his old address in Luton.
"I wonder what it can be, Gramps?"
"You'll soon find out, when you go over there tomorrow."
Jonathan had kept a lingering hope that Bob Fox would at some stage get in contact, but an expensive envelope would not be Bob's style when writing to him. He had ascertained from his mother that Bob was still `being healed' in the States.
The following evening Jonathan drove over to his family home in Fearnley Gardens, Luton.
"Hi, Mum," he called as he came in through the backdoor.
He gave his Mum a hug and kiss.
"I'm going to miss you when you go to New Zealand. I'm praying that you do not stay there."
"I don't know. If I like it; if I meet the right guy, I might want to stay there. It's not that far away today."
"But you cannot pop back here every few weeks."
"You and Dad could come out there. It'd do him good to have a proper break from work."
"I know. But Kevin's out there, with his man."
"But Dad's thawing. I think he attitude is changing. Yours has changed, Mother darling." He gave her another hug and kiss. "If I meet the right man, I could bring him back here for your inspection!"
Lois laughed. "It is always difficult for a Mother when she knows that her son has fallen in love with a girl. I don't know how I'd be if I saw you were in love with a man."
"Why do parents talk of gaining a daughter when a son marries a woman; but never of gaining another son when he enters into a Civil Partnership with another man.?"
"Perhaps they do!"
"That's a very progressive thought coming from you, Mum."
Lois laughed. "Perhaps I am moving with the times. Your Father would say I'm becoming liberal in my old age!"
"Keep up the good work with him. Now you said there was a letter for me. I'm intrigued, who can be writing to me here?"
"The letter's on the table in the hall. I've got to get on preparing a meal for us. It is a wonder that the noisy hungry duo aren't down here asking when they are going to be fed."
Jonathan went through into the hall, and saw the white envelope lying on the table in the hall. He turned it over and noticed that there was an address embossed on the sealed flap of the envelope. Lois could not have had her glasses on when she looked at the envelope the evening before.
Jonathan read. "Farr, Underwood, Cowdrey and Kennedy. Solicitors." This was followed by an address in the City. Jonathan was now even more puzzled. He went through into the dining room where the light was better, and where he knew there was a paper knife. He slit open the envelope and extracted the letter, which was written on very expensive paper. It was headed by the name and address of a firm of solicitors in the centre of London. There was also a long list of partners, and associates. It was obvious a large and prestigious firm. He read:-
Dear Mr John Pridham, We have been instructed to trace a John Pridham. The only fact known to us was that he resides, or has resided, in Luton. Neither the telephone directory, nor the register of electors, for Luton, revealed a John Pridham. There are six Pridham households in the register of electors, so we are writing to all six. If you are indeed a John Pridham, would you please ring my secretary at telephone number 0112345678, extension 231 and arrange for an appointment to see me. If you can prove your identity, with birth certificate, passport, or marriage certificate etc. you may learn something to your advantage.
The signature at the end of the letter was an illegible scrawl, but underneath was written "Sebastian ffookes." One of those thought Jonathan and sniffed.
He went through to the kitchen and showed the letter to his mother. "What do you think this is about, Mum?"
Lois read the letter. "It can't be bad news, `something to your advantage.'"
"It is `may be to my advantage. But it is for a J.O.H.N Pridham. And I am Jonathan."
"But most people call you Jon, whether the name has an aitch in it or not, it sounds the same."
"We don't know anything about the John Pridham they are looking for. What age or anything. It could be for someone dead and gone. I know there are other Pridhams in Luton, and none of them are family."
"It's too late to ring up now. Dad might have some idea what it is about."
When Michael returned home a few minutes later he was shown the letter. He screwed up his face to express some puzzlement. "Perhaps someone has left you some money," he said, laughingly handing the letter back to Jonathan.
"Has some rich uncle or fairy godmother died?" replied Jonathan.
They all laughed.
It was the next morning when Jonathan phoned the solicitors, and asked for Extension 231. A woman answered.
"Jonathan Pridham here, I have received a letter from Mr ffookes asking me to phone and make an appointment."
"Ah, yes Mr Pridham. Let's see if we can arrange a date and time."
They played the diary game and arranged for Jonathan to see Mr ffookes four days later.
"Can you tell me what it is about?"
"Mr ffookes will explain everything. You will need to prove that you are the Mr John Pridham we are looking for. So please bring along things like your birth certificate, and marriage certificate if you have one, and your passport, which will, of course, contain a photograph."
"There is a bit of a problem that might rule me out of whatever it is about. I am Jonathan Pridham, not simply John with an aitch."
"I see." There was a pause. "Will you hold the line, while I ask Mr ffookes about that."
There was a click, followed by a fairly lengthy silence.
"Mr Pridham?"
"Yes."
"Mr ffookes said to come in anyway. There is a possibility the matter may refer to you. Mr ffookes says he needs to see you, if only to eliminate you."
"Thanks," said Jonathan, more mystified than ever.
Jonathan had some discussion with Malcolm as to what he should wear."I've looked that firm up. They are top flight City lawyers. Their address is in the heart of Town. They are no back street business. Go in your best bib and tucker."
So four days later, dressed, as he had been when he went to see Bill, in his one and only, but smart dark suit Jonathan caught the train from Stevenage to King's Cross. He saw the spot where he had met Keith and from where everything had gone wrong, or had it? Then he caught the Circle line round to Farringdon, from where he walked to the offices of Farr, Underwood, Cowdrey and Kennedy. They occupied several floors of one of the City's new towering office blocks. The desk in the vestibule told him to take the lift to the fifth floor.
When the lift opened he found himself facing another reception desk.
"Can I help you, Sir?" said a smartly dressed young lady.
"I have an appointment to see Mr ffookes."
Jonathan sat down in a very comfortable seat, and surveyed the scene. Everything was of the highest quality. Expensive carpet, furntiture, and some interesting modern paintings, that looked like originals to Jonathan's very unpractised eye, hanging on the walls.
He only sat for a few minutes only before a smart young man came across to him.
"Mr Pridham?"
Jonathan nodded and stood up.
"Mr ffookes is ready to see you, would you, please, follow me."
The young man led the way down a corridor to a door with the name of Sebastian ffookes written on it. He opened the door. "Mr Pridham to see you, Mr ffookes."
Jonathan went into the room. It was large, at the very far end was a man dressed in a dark suit, sitting behind a large desk. The man stood, and as his eyes focused on Jonathan his jaw dropped.
Jonathan stopped as they exchanged a moment of mutual recognition. Jonathan saw the man in his smart suit, but immediately his memory showed him the man dressed in a white bath robe, followed by serious sex between the two of them.
The man saw the smartly, and rather uncomfortably dressed teenager, but he was also seeing a teenager dressed in a rather tight Tshirt and jeans, and remembering several eminently satisfactory blowjobs and much else besides. "Jon!!"
"Seb!!"
"That explains everything." Seb stepped forward with his arms out, and Jonathan rushed into his arms for a long hug. "Well, well, well! Now the mystery is indeed revealed. You're looking well. I've missed you at Bill's. What are you doing now?"
"Seb, will you explain the mystery?"
"All in good time, my boy. Would you like some coffee?"
"Please."
Seb pressed an intercom and ordered two cups of coffee. "Take a pew, Jon." Seb indicated an exceedingly un-pew-like arm chair, into which Jonathan sank.
"Can you explain why am I here?" asked Jonathan.
"You will remember a Mr. Algernon Reginald Montgomery, though you probably knew him as we all did as Roger, even Old Roger."
Jonathan's face lit up. "Of course I do, he was my last but one punt..client. Why?"
"You didn't know that he had died then?"
Jonathan's face changed. "No. When did he die then?"
"Fifteenth of March. It was all very sudden. Was found at his home by his man, in bed, dead. Died in his sleep. No sign of any struggle or anything. Must've just slipped away."
"That was just a month after I escaped from Bill's," said Jonathan softly.
Seb looked at Jon intently, having heard the word `escaped', but now was not the time to enquire further as to what that was meant.
"That's very sad. He was a real old English gentleman. We all loved him at Bill's." Jonathan paused before adding rather hesitantly, "We all said he gave the best blow jobs."
Seb smiled. "I think everybody liked Roger. He was a partner here for many years before he retired."
"But why am I here? What has Old Roger's death got to do with me?"
"Roger was a wealthy man. A very wealthy man. He lived quite simply, though well. No expensive cars or large house in the country; good holidays but not extravagant ones. He lived well within his means; so, as I said, he died a very wealthy man. He has left something to you in his will."
"To me?"
Seb nodded.
"To me? And all the other Boys at Bill's."
"No just to you. Was there something special between you and Roger?"
Jonathan shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing I can think of. He used to go with all of the Boys."
They were interrupted by a knock on the door, and a young woman entered with a tray bearing the coffee. She placed the tray on a small table, and withdrew.
"Did something special happen that last time?"
Jonathan blushed slightly. "It was a bit different. I made him take his bath- robe off and get on the bed. He was all skin and bones, a walking skeleton. We had some kisses, and I ran my hands over him, and held his cock. There was a little life in it. He told me something of his story. He'd seen a lot of action."
"Your kindness has been rewarded. On the second of March he came here, to see the person who saw to his will. I want to add a codicil,' he said. His will was produced, and he added a simple codicil which he signed, and his signature was properly witnessed. "It said, To John Pridham, of Fernleaf Avenue, Luton, for kindness and affection the sum of ten thousand pounds."
Jonathan gulped. "Ten thousand pounds, just for a kiss and a cuddle."
"And for listening to him talk. Old men like to reminisce, especially to sexy young men like you."
"But ten thousand smackers. I don't deserve that."
"He added a little more, `To help him with his life when he leaves his present employment.'"
"And nothing to any other of the Boys?"
"No. You showed him something that was precious for him. You showed him some affection and interest. You gave him something he valued, you weren't just interested in getting a good blow job and a tip."
Seb sat and watched Jonathan as it all began to sink in. Eventually Jonathan looked up and grinned.
"He just knew you as John, not realising what you were called was short for Jonathan. He also slightly misheard your address. He thought it was Fernleaf, not Fearnley. That is why we've been so long contacting you."
"Well. I don't really know what to say. I'm quite gobsmacked."
Seb chuckled. "But earlier Jon, you used an interesting word. You said you had `escaped' from Bill's. What lies behind the use of that word?"
"You really want to hear the story? It is quite a long one."
"Yes, that word sounds interesting."
Jonathan told Seb something of his family background. He briefly mentioned Bob Fox. He gave an account of the argument with his parents, the punch and the ensuing black eye. He told Seb about meeting Keith at King's Cross, and the few days he had spent with him. He went on to describe the weekend at the farm, and of his being drugged and held in the cell, naked and observed night and day, until he agreed to work for Bill.
Seb let him continue the story, up to his escape in February, and the fact that he had lived with his grandfather since then. When he finished he gave Seb a grin, "Of course, you know how things were at Bill's Club."
"Yes. But I did not know anything about Bill's recruiting methods. So you were taken to Bill's house without any consent on your part?"
"None at all. I thought I was being taken back to Keith's place. Bill even ascertained that I had a key to the apartment. I went to sleep in the car – drugged as I later found out."
"How long were you kept there?"
"Three weeks, until I agreed to work for Bill."
"You were beaten and sexually abused?"
"Yea. One of the gaolers was a nasty piece of work, quite vicious. The other one was not so bad."
"Typical technique in the circumstances. You realise you could sue Bill for unlawful imprisonment – and get some hefty damages?"
"I thought quite long and hard about taking legal action, but decided not to."
"Why's that, may I ask?"
"There are several reasons, really. I didn't want all the `laws delays' hanging around me for months, probably years. Nor the press interest that would probably also go with it. I had some doubts as to whether I would win. There are some very powerful vested interests that would've been involved making sure that it did not get that far. Yourself for example!"
Seb smiled. "You feared a knife in the dark."
"I think that might have been an extreme action against me. Bill can be ruthless when he wants his way."
"You could have asked for police protection, in view of those vested interests."
"I hadn't thought of that; but there are three or four patrons who are very senior police officers. They could have found out details."
"I know of one; there are more than one?"
Jonathan thought for a moment. "I could give you the names of four, or rather the names they were known by by the Boys. I only knew you as Seb, not Sebastian ffookes. I think I had worked out you were something involved with the legal profession."
"But that does not explain fully. Bill held you against your will, in grim conditions, and then made you work for him for the best part of six months; at the end of which you were not released, you escaped."
"There are two sides to Bill. He is ruthless about getting his way. But once he had got his way, he was kind and considerate."
"Because he knew which side his bread was buttered."
"He visited us once a week. We were all seen and tested by a doctor once a week."
"I knew about the doctor, but not that Bill took such a personal interest."
"Bill knew I liked some open air in the country. Two or three times I was down at the farm and after I had made certain promises not to run off or contact parents, he allowed me to go off for a walk by myself. Had a special car to take me down and bring me back."
"But that still does not justify what he did to you."
"But I think the main reason for not taking action was my mates, the other Boys. Two were really good friends, and the rest were friends. On the whole we got on well all together. Oh, yes, there was some falling out and the odd argument, but when it came to the crunch we all helped each other. What would happen to them if Bill's place was raided by the police and closed down? They would be out on the meat rack in Piccadilly Circus, with all the hazards and dangers that involves. They are far better off where they are. No; I couldn't do that to them."
"As a matter of interest who were your special friends among the Boys?"
"Andy and Chink. Ba is a nice guy too."
Seb nodded. "Andy is the sort of head boy, isn't he?"
"He watched over me in the early days, making sure I settled in well. Chink and I used to sleep together, he helped me when I had one of my nightmares about being back in the cell."
"I always think I'm abusing a minor when I go with Chink; even though he is in his early twenties."
"That's a part of his attraction."
They both laughed.
"So, Jon, have you just left it?"
"No way. I went up on a Thursday afternoon when I knew Bill'd be around, and bearded him in his den. I got the money which I knew he owed me, and some more."
"How much more?"
"Six hundred and five pounds. There were shares that had been bought in my name, and an odd three hundred and ninety five pounds, he made that up to the thousand."
"I think that was rather mean. By not taking action you saved him from almost certain imprisonment, and/or a very large compensation. I shall tell him so when see him. I bet he breathed a big sigh of relief when he knew you weren't going to take him to court."
"He was his charming self!"
"I bet he was."
They sat looking at each other for several seconds.
It was Seb who broke the silence. "You always looked sexy in those tight jeans and Tshirt, but you look even sexier in that smart suit and tie – except I just want to get it all off you. See what you're doing to me." Seb moved showing Jonathan a considerable tenting in his trousers.
Jonathan laughed. "You're pretty sexy yourself. I always enjoyed my times with you."
"You were not just a good lay; you're intelligent too. I enjoyed our post-coital chats – though I know that is not quite the right word."
"In these surroundings it sounds better than after a good fuck, or good shag, or some ravishing."
Seb laughed. "I have got a place down in Essex. I'd like to have you down for a weekend, not just in bed, but to talk."
"There's a problem. This coming weekend is possibly my last in this country, at least for some time. I am flying out to New Zealand on Tuesday."
"When are you getting back?"
"I don't know. I have a gay uncle out there, I'm going to stay with him. I may stay permanently."
"You've given up the idea of University then?"
"I think so. Somehow after the experience of Bill's it doesn't seem so attractive. I think University would be tame."
"If I can help you in any way, do ask. Have you ever thought about taking up the law?"
"Not really. I don't know what I'll end up doing."
"Don't just drift. You've got the nous to do something worth while with your life." There was another short silence. Seb looked at his watch. "If I can't take you away for a weekend, let me take you out for lunch."
"Aren't you busy?"
"Nothing that can't be put off, and caught up with later. It is paperwork for the rest of the day; but I can do that later. What do you say?"
"Yes, please."
Seb rang through to his secretary, asking her to make out a cheque to J. Pridham, which he would deal with later, and saying that he would be out for lunch but would be back sometime later.
"Do you need the loo, etc?"
"That might be a good idea."
Seb stood up. "This way." He led the way to a door, which he opened and went through into a small room with a toilet, hand basin, shower and a chair. "I need a pee too." Seb pulled down his zip and began to pee. "Come on, don't be shy. We've seen each other starkers."
Jonathan stood alongside Seb and the two peed.
"Fancy a shower?" asked Seb.
"What together?" Jonathan laughed. "Why not! Yes."
"Let me undress you, Jon." Seb removed Jonathan's jacket and hung it on a hook. He put his arms round Jonathan and they exchanged some kisses. "I've been wanting to do that ever since you walked through the door."
Jonathan then removed Seb's jacket, and undid the small buttons on his shirt and slid his hands on to Seb's very hairy chest. He felt for and found Seb's nipples, for he had remembered that Seb was always turned on by attention to that part. He opened the shirt, and began to kiss, then lip bite, and finally to nibble gently with his teeth. There were loud groans of appreciation from Seb.
"You've remembered what turns me on!"
"There's not much that doesn't turn you on." Jonathan paused to remove one of Seb's hairs from his mouth. He pulled Seb's shirt out from his trousers, took it off and hung it up alongside the jacket.
Seb then removed Jonathan's shirt, and undid his belt, and pulled down the zip. His hand then went down and took hold of Jonathan's very hard cock. "You getting much fun nowadays?"
"No. None for nearly two months."
"What! How can you manage that; especially after all the action at Bill's?"
"I've had two or three short relationships, but for one reason or another they've not become anything. I going to see what New Zealand has to offer."
"More sheep than men!"
"Kev, my uncle, found a Kiwi partner."
"I wish I could put in a bid for you."
"Well, I'll make a promise to you, Seb. If Kiwiland doesn't work out for me, I'll take up your offer of that weekend, and we can see how it goes."
While they talked they removed the rest of their own clothes. Seb turned on the shower, adjusted the temperature, and they stepped in. They put their arms round each other, kissed, and pressed their cocks together. They stood there, and just enjoyed their closeness as the warm water poured down over them.
"That's good," said Jonathan, "As you know my story, and we've been together before, I feel I can relax with you."
"Was knowing your past at Bill's part of the problem in those short relationships you spoke about?"
"Yes. One guy broke everything off when I told him about my time at Bill's."
"Why did you have to tell him?"
"There's usually a sharing of stories between gay men when they get together. I believe that someone worth while should know, and if they are worth while they'll accept."
"I suppose so. It must be difficult to gauge when to tell someone who you're thinking seriously about?"
"Perhaps I did it too soon, - or too late."
"You are sexy, Jon. How I wish I could have you around at least for a long, very long weekend." Seb was rubbing his hands up and down Jonathan's back. He reached down and began to squeeze his buttocks. Then his fingers began to probe further in, reaching the sensitive erogenous inmost area.
The full feelings began to mount in Jonathan. He knew just how much he liked a hard cock pushing and penetrating. Seb had been there before, he knew how well they had done exactly that together.
Seb whispered in Jonathan's ear. "You know what I want? I want to push my cock deep inside there. It's been there before and wants to get there again."
There was a conflict in Jonathan. He remembered previous times with Seb, all of them good. Seb was no Ginger, forcing himself. He'd always been gentle and considerate, and their sessions had always been prolonged, never hasty. But Jonathan also remembered the promise that he'd made to himself, when talking things over with Gramps, shortly after his escape from Bill's. Anal penetration, either by him, or to him, was something he wanted to reserve for someone extra special. Someone with whom he wanted to make a life-time commitment. He was very tempted to break that vow.
Jonathan pulled slightly away from Seb, so he could look at him properly. "Seb, I am sorry, but I am going to say `No' to that. When I escaped from Bill's I'd had enough sex with all sorts of men. I said to myself that I wanted a steady, hopefully permanent, relationship. I knew I wouldn't be able to lead a monastic existence. So I decided that the fullest and most deep sexual act would be reserved for someone I wanted to share my life with."
There was a look of sadness in Seb's eyes. "Jon, I understand. I accept your decision. In fact I respect you for it. The man whom you get, or gets you, will be a very, very fortunate guy. I hope you find that special person. Does that mean you want to stop now?"
"No way. I'm more than happy to give you a blow job. Only fucking is ruled out."
"Good."
They resumed kissing and enjoying the close bodily contact. Then a possibility came into Jonathan's mind. He got some of the shower gel and put a very liberal amount on to his hand, first he applied it to his perinaeum, then another load to Seb's cock and his own. He turned off the shower so that it wouldn't all be washed away. He moved so that Seb's cock slid under his balls. He squeezed his thighs together, and with one hand reached round so that Seb's cock was surrounded by thigh or hand.
"That feels good, Jon. I hadn't thought of that."
"It's good for me too. Quite a lot of guys like it that way. It is very pleasant, and safe. No need for a condom."
Seb put his arms round Jonathan to hold him as close as possible, and Jonathan did the same to Seb with his one free arm.
Seb began to move his cock in and out, an act which rubbed against Jonathan's cock. They continued to kiss.
About ten minutes later both men began to gasp. Jonathan felt Seb's cock spasm, and his hand fill with a large amount of his cum. This brought Jonathan to his climax, his cum spilling out between their stomachs. Satiated, they gasped and clung to each other, holding each other up.
"That was great," said Seb, "As good as any fuck."
Jonathan sniffed. "And the shower's full of the wonderful smell of good fresh semen."
Seb laughed. "Please come back from New Zealand."
Jonathan laughed. "If I do you'll be one of the first people I contact."
Seb turned on the shower, and they soaped each other, and washed each other down. Then they dried themselves and dressed.
"We'll have some lunch, and then when we get back here the cheque will be ready for you. You'll walk away a richer man."
Jonathan laughed. "And well fed, no doubt; and sexually satisfied."
Seb took Jonathan to one of those eating establishments in the City that catered exclusively for the lunches of well-heeled top men. As in such establishments, the service was quick. Very soon Jonathan was tucking into a rare steak, and Seb into a Dover Sole, all accompanied with a bottle of a good wine.
As they ate they talked. They compared their school days, and early family life. Though Seb was a bachelor, he was in close contact with his two sisters and brother and their offspring.
"Any of them like us?" asked Jonathan softly.
"Not as far as I know. Though I suspect one of my nephews who's in his mid teens may be. Which would suggest there is something in the idea that it may be hereditary passed down the female line."
"Do any of them know about you?"
"One sister is definitely in the know. We've always been very close. I think the others know, but don't ask. If they want to know they can ask. If I had a partner it'd be a different matter. But Christmas and family occasions I don't want to bring anyone, so really that problem doesn't arise. Does this grandfather of yours know about you?"
"Oh yes. He's very accepting and understanding. He had to cope with his youngest son coming out as gay a couple of years ago."
"Your grandmother?"
"She died about Easter time a year ago."
"You're very fortunate to have him."
"I know. We've always been close. I love him greatly."
It was Jonathan who initiated the next subject in their conversation. "How long have you been going to Bill's Place, Seb?"
"I've been a member there for about ten years."
"How do men become members?"
"You have to be recommended by another member. You know how the gay grapevine works. I did a lot of work for Roger in my early days. We soon discovered we were both gay. We had a couple of sessions together, but somehow for us work and sex did not mix. We talked a lot, and one day he mentioned Bill's, and asked if I was interested in joining. He proposed me. I had to be interviewed by Bill. He is a shrewd man, and I was accepted. There is a quite substantial membership fee and of course, you pay for what facilities you use. The whole life of `Bill's Place', as it is widely called, does not revolve round the annex where you were. There is a very decent restaurant. I sometimes take non-gay clients and friends there for a good meal, in quiet surroundings. There are bedrooms where one can spend the night. I have never used that facility, as I have a small apartment in Islington."
"How much does it cost to be a member?"
"The annual subscription is two and a half thousand pounds." Seb looked at Jon and smiled. "Why are you thinking of joining, and becoming a member?"
Jonathan laughed. "I might, when I've made my fortune. I wouldn't be the first ex-boy to become a punt.. patron."
"I know what you earned, and the legacy from Old Roger are not much these days, but they amount to more than a lot of young men have to start off in life."
When they had finished their meal they made their way back to Seb's office. The cheque was on Seb's desk for him to sign, and some papers to acknowledge receipt which Jonathan had to sign. This was soon done, and the cheque was safely in Jonathan's pocket.
He stood looking at Seb. "Thank you for everything. When I set out this morning I had no idea three good things were going to happen."
"Three?"
"The money, seeing you and having such a good session in the shower, and a good lunch as well."
"Well, Jon, when, as I hope you will, you come back to England get in contact. If I can be of help in any way do not hesitate to ask. I hope that you will be able to take up that invitation for a weekend in the not too distant future."
"If I come back, I'll be in contact."
They gave each other a long hug, and both cocks hardened and were felt.
"We'd better stop now or we'll be wanting another shower," laughed Seb.
"Well, how did you get on?" was Malcolm's opening question when Jonathan arrived back late that afternoon.
"Very well!"
"Yes, and?"
Jonathan decided to play his Grandfather's game. "I caught the train from Stevenage to King's Cross, and then took the underground to Farringdon. I quickly and easily found the offices, just a left and two right turns, as we had worked out."
"Cut the guff, boy and tell me what Mr Double Eff ffookes wanted."
"I'm only doing what you do, Gramps!"
"Chip off the old block, that's no excuse."
Jonathan reached into his pocket and pulled out the envelope and handed it to Malcolm, who opened it, and got out the cheque. "Wow. That's quite a lot of money. Tell me more."
"Well I was telling you what happened before you started telling me to cut the guff. I recognised Mr Double Eff ffookes, as you called him, the moment I walked into the office. I never linked the Sebastian with the Seb who was a frequent punter at Bill's. He recognised me; there was a mutual jaw dropping."
"Surely the money is not from him."
"No. You remember me telling you about Old Roger, and his weekly blow jobs. He died a few weeks after I left Bill's and he left it to me in his will."
"He must have been well off. Same to all the boys?"
"No, just to me. The will said it was for kindness and affection. I gave him a special hug, and played with his cock, and we talked that last time."
"I'm pleased for you. Your time involved with Bill was not a good time for you, but every cloud has a silver lining."
"But I've had a good day, Gramps. Seb and I had a shower together, and then he took me out for a meal."
"I don't know. Money drops into your hand, food goes into your belly and sex as well. You youngsters have all the luck."
Jonathan laughed. "But I don't know what Dad'll say, and he's bound to ask."
"Probably want you to give it away to his church, saying it's immoral earnings."
It was a couple of evenings later when Malcolm and Jonathan had gone over to Luton for a farewell meal with Michael, Lois and family, before the departure for New Zealand. They were to fly out a couple of days later. Michael found an opportune moment for a private word with his elder son.
"What happened when you went up to London to see that solicitor? Were you the Jon Pridham they wanted to see?"
"Yes, Dad. I've been left ten thousand quid."
"Wow. Some fairy godmother I don't know about?"
"No. A fairy godfather. At Bill's there was a regular who came every week. He was well into his eighties. A charming, kind old man. I showed him a little affection, and talked with him. He died a month after I got away, and left me that in his will."
Michael paused for a long moment. "I suppose you could say it was the wages of sin!"
Jonathan looked up at his father, expecting to see an expression of disgust and condemnation, only to see a broad grin.
"Dad, you're smiling."
"I'm glad for you, son. It was a bad time for you, and much of it my fault. I'm glad something good has come out of it."
"Gramps said, every cloud has its silver lining."
"Jon, you know that I'm sorry for hitting you."
"But Dad, that is all long over. I've forgiven you."
"I know. But I've been harsh on you. I am not so sure that the Good Lord means us to be as judgemental as I've been with you; especially when it comes to one of one's own family. I should have tried to understand more. Your mother has been talking with me a lot. She's read up on these things. A couple of her old school friends have gays in their family. One has a son like you, and another an older brother.
"But that is not the only thing. You're back here, we can talk together, and everything because a woman priest took you in, and pointed you back to your family. We all owe her a lot.
"I don't think you know this, but last Sunday we went to the Parish Church. It was like coming home. We'll be going there in future. I've told Pastor Willis that we are giving up our membership."
Jonathan put his arms round his father. "Dad."
They hugged.
"Thanks, Dad. Even in the bad moments I knew that you loved me, and wanted what you thought was the best for me. Thanks, for what you've just said. You must have been doing a lot of thinking."
"You can say that again."
Jeffrey at jeffyrks@hotmail.com