Tommy, A Northern Lad-6 Commitment
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Part 6- Commitment
I told Tommy that I'd selected Leeds and enrolled as a student on their one year course, my degree and money being ample prerequisites. Skipton was commutable on the train and so I asked the agent to find a student tupe house for a mature studrnt.
I felt better and better about my decision. Leeds was a big city and easy for Tommy to visit me. I secured accommodation in Headingley in a large Victorian house, we had the top floor to ourselves.
Tommy would get the train straight from college in Keighley to Headingley and we'd shag each other senseless until he got the train back to his mums in Bingley or an Uber if he stayed late.
Tommy finished his course with flying colours and was looking for work. I asked Barry the manager at the Farm Shop to email the college butchery lecturer with an opening for a bright student.
Tommy told me all about how `Crimo', Mr Crimson, had told him about the vacancy and to put him as a reference on his application. he filled out rhe application form himself,
'No peeping' he said 'I'm doing this not you, I'm just gonna tell 'em what a fucking good butcher I am, modest and 'andsome as fuck as well'.
I asked Terry to consult for a few days to vet the applicants, He had't much on and jumped at the offer.
I was pleased and relieved when Tommy was selected for interview purely on his own merits, along with two others. I was confident that on the day Tommy would shine and get the job on his own strengths, especially with Crimo's reference and him pointing out to emphasise his skill at neatness of cut, presentation and of minimising waste.
Tommy got the job, he fucked my brains out all that weekend, he was so pleased, it's boosted his confidence no end (well a very sizeable end actually). What a fucking stud he is. My Tommy.
I got a call from Terry, we met in Leeds for a beer in the Wetherspoons on the station, he said he'd had it with consulting, his last two contracting jobs had been a nightmare and he wanted a secure income for a few years at least.
I punted the idea of him managing the farm and the abbatoir, butchery and retail side for me. I'd pay him through the books so he didn't get any surprises from the Inland Revenue, he'd get a car, phone, broadband, and a performance bonus, he jumped at it. I got 5 days a week for price of two and a half days consulting and to a guy I could trust and who's well respected in farming.
Terry spent a month being patronised by the previous owners old Financial Director and his wife, who was HR Director, who I'd employed when I transferred staff over, who both bullied Barry the under manager that I had promoted to manager.
Terry let the FD and HR combo go, never easy but as Terry so eloquently put it they were `taking the piss and making me drink it'.
Terry appointed his assistant Sally as Chief Financial Officer. I knew Sally from her doing due diligence for the farm, she was a spreadsheet wizard, and was a qualified accountant to boot.
Sallys friend Maggie, was an HR consultant, she'd happily do the HR working from home as she had childcare duties. Perfect.
Terry took Barry, the manager, out for a drink after work, it turned out his passion was butchery, he had done an apprenticeship years ago and worked his way up, he loved mentoring talent, he saw it as his way of paying back all those guys who'd been very patient with him when he knew now't'.
I'd over promoted Barry and he was miserable. I asked Terry to offer him the Butchery managers job and we'd pay off the existing guy on compassionate grounds or whatever Maggie could conjure up with the pension fund.
We were set. I had to step back now or else I'd burst wanting to tell Tommy and spoil everything. I got into my MBA and of course fucking Tommy regularly at the `Villa Pervo' as he called it.
Now that Tommy had a proper job, earning real money, he wanted us to set up a shag den called home. I said why didn't he move into Villa Pervo as I had it until my MBA was finished, it was handy for Skipton for work and Bingley for his mums by train. He jumped at the chance. His mum was getting curious as to how we met and who I was. Tommy said we'd met on holiday and got on well and it was coincidence that I lived in Leeds and wanted a house share. Clever lad and mostly true.
Tommy got Aaron to move his stuff, it ended up that Tommys call for help entailed all 5 lads turning up at his mums and bringing stuff over to Leeds. I had a fridge full of beer but we ended up at the Old Oak and then at The Woodman, two disreputable establishments in student land of Leeds.
We ended up getting pissed, we all came back to our shag den' and it was Espana Por Favor all over again. What a night we had, it was as if we'd just come back from Spain, talk of the crummy hotel on the strip, The nightclub, the nude beach and the kiwis all lowered our inhibitions somewhat and now we were in Gods Own' they went for it like good Yorkshiremen, stout, erect. No butt unfucked, no prick unsucked , no arse unfingered, no mouth not kissed, no shoulder not massaged, no balls unsucked, no arse unchewed and that was just Friday.
I woke with Tommys arm pinning me down, his legs splayed with Aaron's mouth open inches from where he left it earlier. Nick was in full Foetal position with Seb spooning him, his arms cradling him., so cute. Flynn was sleeping on his back, snoring, loudly, his fat stub, hard, his skin peeled back, the head shiny. His hand fell on it and he played with his cock, waking up with a start. `Morning Big Boy' I said as I twitched my sore arse, remembering him fucking me senseless on the couch last night.
Tommy got up and hugged me from behind, his hard one up my crack as he squeezed my nips, I turned and kissed him,
`fuck, my heads banging, how much did we put away last night?'
He then let out his trademark massive loud fart, and ran off to the bog. Waking up the others who called him a `dirty get' in unison.
I put the coffee on as Tommy fannied around, looking busy, a bloke, out of his comfort zone! I lessened his load considerably (no not like that), I said, com on we'll go to Brian's cafe for breakfast, and it's on me, no argument. What a treat that was, full English's, Two eggs, black pudding, what we're supposed to be Hash browns, sausages, Italian tomatoes, baked beans (horrid!) and fried mushrooms, fried bread and toast, `perfect' as Tommy, the stud, my stud would say, on a good day.
We chatted about what had happened since Spain. Aaron had confessed to his Ma that he was gay and has a boyfriend that we don't know that he met in Blackpool. Nick had a girlfriend, Susannah, who was an Angel. And no he wouldn't confirm if she gave him head or if he licked her fanny out or if she took his pencil up her shitter, all the things he did to me last night, I pointed this out, `yeah but it's just us lads, now't wrong with that, it's not like I'm shagging another bird is it?' I got his logic, he set the tone that we are just lads messing about and everyone nodded, that it made sense and it's only our business where we shoved it, so long as no one got hurt it was all OK.
I knuckled down to my studies and Tommy got into his groove, work, then he had footie on Sunday mornings footie practice on Wednesday nights, so he'd sleep at his mums on Wednesday and sometimes on Saturday nights if it was a league match.
I got a first, Tommy was thrilled. He got a suit for my graduation and invited him mum along. His mum knew by now that we were more than room mates, as she said to me quietly
`look after my boy won't you, don't hurt him, his heart couldn't stand it',
a tear welled up in my eyes and I said
`I'll never leave him, I love him dearly',
`yes I can tell' she said and we hugged.
Tommy came back with three drinks and said
`look at you two, I leave you alone for five minutes'.
The farm was doing well but Terry warned we were getting short on labour with lambing season coming up. I texted Pat with an idea of getting the Kiwis over to work in their winter, our summer lambing and shearing. Terry arranged the flights through the company, they'd stay in the bunkhouse. Self contained, private. I got hard thinking about Pat and Stan fucking us both rigid.
`You need a job, you lazy git' opined Tommy one morning as he pulled his tool out of my arse,
`yeah, and somewhere to live, did you know the lease is up in six weeks on our Villa Pervo', I said.
`we could always stay at mums'
that spurred me to action.
Lindsey at Strutt Parker emailed me that a farm and the farmhouse was coming up for auction. it hadn't sold. It was a pig farm and no one wanted the house so close to the smelly farm. The old couple needed the money to pay off their debts and to buy a retirement bungalow they had set their hearts on.
I met Terry for our regular monthly meeting and he said he was really busy running the farm and that the retail side could do wit===h some new ideas and impetus, perhaps from some newly qualified whizz kid, `I know just the man for that' I said. Sally got the job description, salary and terms, including a tied cottage, car etc. and advertised it on the company vacancy board.
I rang my FA and told him about the house and farm lots. I said we were paying too much for our pork from our supplier and that we'd make more this way. His advice was to buy it with a loan from the family trust, he negotiated a great deal and we had it surveyed and signed for in four weeks so the old couple wouldnt lose their bungslow.
That night Tommy came bursting in with the job he'd seen at work which sounded perfect for me, New Business Manager
`I'm not sure, looks kind of a big responsibility for somebody and they'd want someone older',
`Bollocks' said Tommy,
`speaking of which'
I said as I peeled off his Jeans,
`sex before supper'?' I asked
`oh go on then, fuck some more of your brains into me, stud, and fucking well apply for that job you lazy cunt',
`language' I said as he undressed.
I still gasped at his beauty, his ruggedness, his form, absolutely perfect. Tommy laid on the bed, a pillow raising his curved, downy ass cheeks off the bed, his balls just in view, peeping out, like a dogs. I kneeled on the bed, and leant forward sucking his ripe figs and burrowing into his arse, savouring that musk, that scent of Tommy. He moaned as I licked this boy-mans pucker opening him up with my pointy tongue, delving, pressing, pushing in, opening up as he yielded to me.
I lubed up and took him in one deft stroke, I revelled in the feeling of total skin contact, his velvet lined chute gripping my turgid shaft, my brain focused solely on pumping blood, more blood into my dick, the rim so sensitive, my foreskin peeled back. As I pumped slowly, deeply, I leant forward gripping his body tightly, my head laid on his back as my hips rocked, pushing my rod deeper into that tunnel.
I whispered `here come my brains'
as I filled his arse, Tommy groaned lowly as he came on the sheets, his ass muscles clenching my sensitive rod.
He turned over, his ass sat in his pool of cum, I leant over and sucked him clean, he shot again, `that's dessert' he said.
I applied for the job, showing Tommy my application and waited a week to get invited for interview. Tommy fussed over me that morning, waking me up my favourite way, then nailing me lsid on my stomach, his weight on me as he pulsed his load up my hole. He laid out my suit and ironed my shirt. Then he gave me a good luck kiss a pat on my ass and he went to work. `Text me' maybe I can share my snap with you on a break?'
I waited outside Terrys office and looked nervous, Tommy passed a window and gave me his goofy lovable grin and two thumbs up, then pretended to walk down stairs as he disappeared below the office window. I smiled, Fuck, I love him so much.
Terry called me in as if he'd never seen me before and said `you've got the job'. We chatted about plans for the business, he'd concentrate on integrating the farms. My new company car was due later that day and he'd got keys for the farmhouse, our tied cottage. I'd set up a bank account for my wages to be paid into and a house account for Tommy and I to share bills etc. The company would even give me a relocation grant for furniture, what a generous firm they are.
Terry emailed Crimo about more butchery staff and said the firm would sponsor a prize cup and an apprenticeship scheme for the best students. This way we'd have a pipeline of talented butchers.
I was worried that the farm shop would take high street business away as Terry had heard from one of his college mates that the butchers opposite the church was struggling and the owner was selling up. 'it's been their 100 years and they are the best bloody pie youll eat' Tommy said'.
My first decision as New Business Manager was to buy the butchers business and take on the lease for the premises. I rang the agent and bought the business sight unseen and instructed my agent to ensure the contract included rights to the name of the business.
I met the staff, an older butcher, Mick helped by Dave a once fit 30 year old, and a thick set ruddy complexioned ginger Yorkshire lad, Alan. As we talked I noticed Alan he pulled his dick a couple of times, adjusting himself, he looked to have a good sized porker under his checked pants. He looked like he'd give my Tommy a good run for his money.
The staff thought they were getting the sack, so were relieved when I said I'd get HR to send new contracts on the same terms as the other butchers, which was actually a small pay rise, and I assured them that we weren't cost cutting and that it's quality that counts and that with their talent and our expertise that we would make a go of the business.
I told them I wanted them to start enter pie competitions again. Once they knew their jobs were safe, they grumbled about the equipment being old and slowing things down.
I got Mollets Caterers in to price up new efficient ovens and a new mincer. They showed me a pastry machine and I got one on a demo. This would mean either fewer staff or as I hoped more output.
I oversaw the installation of the new equipment, and upgraded the preparation tables and pie moulds. The women who did the prep had worked there for years and gave me some bawdy harmless cheek, making me blush. They were a good crew and worked hard, they loved the new ovens as they ran cooler externally and were much faster to bake, the new mincer could do twice as much work in the same time.
I said I'd be in on Monday for a few weeks to learn the ropes and for them to not treat me any differently.
Monday morning I was at the butchers for 7 o'clock, I had to forgo my morning screw with Tommy and settled for a protein breakfast instead. Tommy whistled as he left for work.
Alan passed me a bag with laundered check trousers and a striped jacket,
`this is yours, a medium, mines the large',
He unwrapped his and stripped off his T shirt, kicked off his trainers and dropped his shorts, he was naked, he gave me a shy grin as he paused and watched me strip.
`You're best going commando' he said
`it gets really hot in the back'.
I smiled at his innuendo.
His cock was fucking huge, a big ginger sausage made bigger by a long foreskin, two big bollocks, the whole package set off by a mass of unruly flaming ginger pubes. He stood naked waiting for me and gave me a good checking out,
`no tan lines' he said,
`yeah from a wild summer' I said, he giggled
`I'll bet',
He pulled at his cock yanking the foreskin down and we stepped into our pants. He covered his muscular chest with the striped jacket and buttoned up, safety shoes on and we were done.
`Wash your hands and I'll show you how to prepare the pork'.
We worked closely all morning, his patient manner calming me down, I'd gotten a boner that Alan sniffed out and he had one too, he showed me the thickness inadvertently as he traced the outline as he adjusted himself. He grinned, knowing I'd clocked his condition,
`happens all the fucking time' he said,
`yeah, I'm right with you on that'
I replied and we laughed and got on with it. I heard the ping of the ovens and the ladies stopped preparing and emptied the hot pies as trays were put in immediately from a rack, then straight into the shop for sale. It was a steady trade, with a queue out of the door. I saw a few customers leave the line looking at their watches.
Alan said, `we can't sell enough at lunchtimes, it gets mad busy'.
I had an idea of splitting our pie sales from butchery and asked Mollets to look at it for me. There was space for pies and cooked meats at the front and meat and sausages at the back, keeping it all separate and more hygienic.
Alan said one morning, as we were stark bollock naked changing
`are you and Tommy a couple?',
yeah' I said that bother you?',
nah' he said, he's a fit bloke, you done well for ya sen there',
he inadvertently pulled his cock down as he said it, I'm sure that info is safe with him, then we dressed and opened up.
Alan, Alan James' said Tommy, I know him, he used to be on swimming team, he's got a huge fucking sausage between his legs, we said the drag in the water used to slow him down, he stopped coming after he got a boner in his speedos and everyone saw. Well I never knew he batted for the other team, he's sound'.
`Yeah he's good fun, maybe when we've moved in to the cottage we can invite him and the lads around?', I said.
The decorators had finished. The cottage had needed a lot of work, we had new heating, a new bathroom, a new kitchen, patio doors and stone flags laid. It took longer than anticipated do I had to extend the rental on Pervo for another 6 weeks.
We'd chosen the furniture a few weeks ago from Pratts in Leeds and set the delivery for when decoratirs and floors were finished. Tommy said we might as well spend every penny of the firms relocation allowance, and I agreed.
We borrowed a firms van and Alan and Dave helped us with the stuff from the flat in Headingley. The landlord ripped us off half of the bond as we'd spilled a drink on the rug or some excuse. I'll remember you, you bastard, I thought.
Alan and Dave sensed we wanted to get at it, they drove the van back empty and we stripped off desperate to shag.
`Our first fucking place of our own!'
shouted Tommy as he leapt at me, his strong arms about my neck, his legs wrapped tight around my waist and his cock pressed hard into my belly. I fell back on to the bed,
well you got that right, I said this is the place to fuck',
`yeah we'll start here and christen every room'
He slapped my arse, lubed up and took me, heavily. Just what I needed, a `right good tomming' as Tommy called it.
At about seven he fucked me for sixth time on the kitchen table,
`job done, every room christened, I'm bloody knackered'
he said as he came inside me, triggering me to shoot up my chest. He stayed hard in me, lifted me off the table and we magically did it again, he laid me down gently on the sheepskin rug in front of the fire and slowly, tenderly kissed and fucked me, number seven he groaned as he shot.
He looked at me and grinned,
`you're fucking beautiful'
he said, then out of nowhere
`and me mums coming round tomorrow, for summat to eat.'
`I'll get a big leg of home grown lamb and I can christen the oven, and you can do the Yorkshire puddings and the washing up'.
`Deal' he said as he took my cock into his warm mouth and sucked me dry.