ASTABGAY BLACKPOOL

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JOHNNY’S JOURNAL

Chapter 14
Love and Betrayal
 

Whilst we were selling the businesses and making all the arrangements for moving to Denbridge, we frequently visited the town to keep up with all the gossip from our newfound gay friends. Although now always staying over with Gloria and David, we did venture down the Lord Montague without them one night to meet Rosie, and she was everything we'd been promised and more. This was a queen who could be a real bitch, not just a funny one. Rosie was said to be passive only, but somehow that word jarred as a description for this character.

Gloria, a right mother hen, was one who no matter how drunk she was would never forget a story, cataloguing them and storing them away somewhere in the grey matter in case they should be of use at some future time. A lot of history had been divulged that first night, stuff we couldn't even remember saying, such was our state.  So when the next Friday evening Gloria on opening the front door pointed to us each in turn in her camp inimitable way to squeal she had found us both jobs, it came as a shock.

Nobby Clark, one of the clan with three respectable used-car sales forecourts locally, was in desperate need of a reliable guy who knew all about cars. Gloria thought it sounded ideal for Steven. Then there was arse-in-the-air Arnold who was having all sorts of problems with his media company, and could ideally do with someone at an executive level with an ability to kick butts. Apparently Arnold was far too aloof to go around kicking butts himself; far too aloof for most things really, and his business was going nowhere. Surely the experience I'd gained with Ted, when I'd sorted out quite a few problems for him, and kicked a lot of butt, would be invaluable to Arnold?

For Gloria to have gone to all that trouble, I guess we must have mentioned we had no intentions of starting up any business venture of our own in Denbridge, at least not until we were fully conversant with the area. She and David  soon became our very close friends, and we enjoyed staying with them. The orgies, where people were invited back from the pub like on that first night, were not regular events, we learned. That night had been hurriedly arranged especially for us - fresh meat in town! Nevertheless we couldn't see much of a difference as the four of us would always have a satisfying romp on a Friday night, usually joined by a couple of other guys to ensure the young queen's insatiable appetite for being screwed right into the floorboards was always fully met. Life here sure was different to Winchester! We just couldn't wait to move. 

With both the jobs quickly secured, we bought a large detached house with a cellar on the London Road, moved in six weeks later and, because there would be so many people we didn't know, threw an open-invite housewarming party on the first Saturday night. As we were expecting anything from perhaps twenty to forty guys to come we arranged a buffet for the maximum number, and even hired a mobile disco for the evening.

Where they all came from was a complete mystery, even to Gloria. So too was how they all learned of the event. There were definitely more than ninety there, possibly well over the hundred - with everybody moving around all over the house it was difficult to count with any accuracy. By ten o'clock we were becoming quite worried. We were not going to be killjoys, but there were people at it all over the place. You couldn't go up the stairs without having to step over naked and semi-naked bodies, all of them engaged in some kind of sexual activity.

Gloria had a marvellous night, it glowed like it had never glowed before, but neither Steven or I joined in with what must have been the biggest orgy ever seen in Denbridge. Instead we busied ourselves meeting people and making them feel welcome - as if anybody needed that in such circumstances! Really, I think as it was our house we were just too frightened to be caught with our pants down should anything go wrong.

Everybody had a great time, and it finally broke up around nine the next morning. Fortunately quite a few people stayed behind for a couple of hours to help us clean up the place, where screams would be heard from some of the queens as they discovered the most unsavoury things. It turned out there wasn't a piece of linen, not even a tea-towel, that didn't have to be bundled into a bin-liner to go to the laundry. The airing cupboard had been stripped. Nevertheless, as a tribute to those days, there was no appreciable damage - we had yet to decorate, anyway - and not a single item had been stolen. Our only regret was forgetting to hide our expensive aftershaves and deodorants - all of them found empty, the world and its partner must have freshened up before leaving.

The following Monday was the first day at work for both of us. Steven's day went well for him. Loving the job and the people, he was full of it when he arrived home. I liked my job too - a lot of swank and no real hard work - but there was no way I could be full of it like Steven. For the first time I was hiding something from him.

My position involved me having an assistant, Brian, and for the first few months we would be working very closely together as I had a lot to catch up on - what the company owned, its current projects, and its financial capabilities, etc. Arnold showed me to my office, and sat at his own desk in the corner of it was my assistant. Smiling at him and warmly shaking his hand, I was quite taken aback by him. He was gorgeous, and I felt fortunate to be working with such a lovely guy. When I'd learned my assistant was a young lad of eighteen, I'd half expected a pimply unshaven youth, but this was an Adonis, if ever there was one!

"Thank you for Saturday," Brian said, with cheekiest of grins as soon as Arnold had gone. "I really enjoyed it."

Oh, my God! He was gay too!  "You were there?" I queried.

"Now don't  tell me you didn't see me. I was the deejay."

Oh, shit! Maybe he wasn't gay then. "Really? Sorry, I should have noticed, but of course it was Steven who hired you, so perhaps I could be forgiven."

"I'm sure I could forgive you for anything," Brian teased.

The guy was playing with me! It had to be asked: "Are you gay yourself, then?"

"I don't know. I think I need someone to help me find that out." Brian was obviously enjoying himself.

"You're quite a guy," I said, "I'm going to love having you as my assistant."

"I shall look forward to it," Brian laughed back, with his beautiful twinkling eyes not leaving mine for a moment.

He was so sharp; so quick witted. He would go far, I thought - I loved him! And then I realised: I really did love him. Already I was aching for him. I wanted him like crazy. But I mustn't, I had Steven and he was a wonderful guy. We had been through so much together we were one. I mustn't love this guy!

"Is there anything you need right now?" Brian asked, his face struggling to hold back from exploding into laughter.

"You wouldn't want to know," I replied, playing the game.

He stood up and stretched his arms high into the air, yawned, and then adjusted himself. There was just no way anybody could not  fully appreciate the guy had a massive hard on. I had one too, but that was well hidden behind my desk.

"Well, I've just got to go and relieve myself," he said, stressing the "relieve" with the most cheeky come hither look I'd ever seen, before asking, "Did they think to tell you where the washrooms were?" He waited, with his eyes penetrating mine until they were right inside my brain, teasing it. The signal could not have been any stronger.

"No," I lied, "do you want to show me?"

"You bet!"

On my first morning in my new job, I had within the very first hour fallen head over heels in love with my assistant, and enjoyed some out of this world oral with him in the washroom. Did he love me, or was he just a tease? Where was all this going?

And you will find that out next time!

Johnny.

Copyright ©Michael Knell 2008.

JOHNNY’S JOURNAL

Chapter 15
Deep Thoughts and Guilt
 

That night Steven and I had some great sex. The spark produced by going with other people lately had certainly re-ignited those smouldering embers, however this night was exceptional, and unknown to him undoubtedly because I was dreaming of doing everything I was with Brian. The fear of accidentally calling out his name only intensified everything. But once it was all over, and we had both been satisfied, as we snuggled up together to go to sleep with me behind him, hugging him in a double foetal position, I felt deeply ashamed and full of guilt.

There was no way I could ever tell Steven about Brian; I loved him too much to hurt him. He had always been everything I ever wanted, and more. He still was, mostly. However there was something missing now, something he was no longer able to give me as he no longer had it, and I desperately needed it. I needed his youthfulness. It is stupid, I know, but if Steven could have remained as he was for the first few years I knew him, untouched by time, I could never have fallen for anyone else. But as unfortunate as it was, I was with Oscar on being "a lover of youth", and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

The many hours spent contemplating the reason for this have all landed up back with Tony, and the love that was stolen from me by circumstances - like life sometimes being a bitch! Tony and I were meant for each other. Our love was intense, yet so cruelly robbed. Had I seen him again, even years later, then maybe those wounds would have healed. But I hadn't, and so I had to admit, as great as I might find anybody else, and as much as I might love them, really truly love them, I would forevermore only be searching for Tony in them - and the further that they grew away from my picture of him as they aged, then the more I would be tempted to look elsewhere for him. I was a condemned man. Condemned to growing older, with the recurring need to replace a love trapped in time.

I was determined to have it out with Brian the next day, to find out exactly how we stood. Was it just a bit of fun for him, or was there any substance on his part to this affinity we seemed to have? I had a feeling we both got a lot more out of each other that day than just a bit of sexual relief. We seemed close all day, and there was a hesitancy on both sides when it was time to go home.

There were only two projects on the go at the time. Both being filmed on a local trading estate, different ones though, and to my mind an utter waste of time and money. With Brian ferrying me around them, there was ample private time in the car for us to talk. However I think I knew before I asked him anything what his answer was going to be. Today he wasn't teasing so much as touching. In the car he frequently placed a hand on my leg, and when we parked up his hand would seek mine to hold.

I said to him, "Do we need to talk? Is there more than a just bit of sexual fun between us? Something serious?"

His eyes wetted a little, and for the first time there was no sign of that cheekiness on his face. He was nervous. "I don't know," he said. "You have a partner, don't you? I guessed you were a bit liberal because of that party, but there can't be anything really serious, can there? Not when you already have someone."

He then shocked me. Not by telling me he'd always felt different because he was attracted to boys rather than girls, and didn't know what to do about it - every gay person will have been there and done that one! - but by revealing he had never knowingly been in gay company before that disco he did for us, let alone had sex with anyone - I was his first.

It seems he had immediately loved the atmosphere at the party, realised for the first time in his life there was nothing wrong with being gay, and felt at last he fitted in somewhere. Of all the people there he had acquired the hots for, I was the one he really wanted to be with the most, by a mile. I was something special. Why, he didn't know - especially as he'd guessed I was twice his age. So when two days later I was wheeled in by Arnold and introduced as his new boss, as he put it: he "nearly died". He couldn't believe it, and though he shouldn't have done it, he couldn't help flirting with me.

I told him he did that like an old pro, and had given me the impression he was a guy with a lot of experience. He laughed and said that was very funny. Then he asked what we were doing lunchtime. It was already "we", and I wasn't going to fight it. I couldn't. Anything he wanted, I told him. So we bought sandwiches and took them back to his bedsit over a shop in Corporation Street, where afterwards we had oral in front of his television to a re-run of Trumpton. "Pugh, Pugh, Barney McGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble, Grub" will forever hold fond memories for me. It was the first time we kissed. Whenever I hear that tune played now, I can still smell his wonderful body, taste him, and feel those tender lips on mine.

Seeing how Brian was living hurt me. It was a large bedsit - it had to be his disco shared it with him - but it was extremely basic and appeared such a lonely place. I knew it would haunt me thinking of him in there of an evening all alone, so I asked him: if I could swing it, would he like to move in with me and Steven, as a sort of lodger with full use of the house and amenities? We would have to be careful to hide our feelings for one another in front of Steven, of course. He was all for it, so I said I would work on it.

That night I told Steven that my assistant, a very nice guy - and he knew him already because coincidentally he did the disco for us, needed lodgings urgently. Someone had complained about the noise of him unloading the disco of a night, so he had to leave where he was at the moment. We had three bedrooms we weren't using, what did he think about renting him one? Steven didn't mind, as long as he had the room right at the back so he couldn't hear us performing of a night if we were noisy. He asked me if the lad was gay, and I told him I wasn't sure, but I suspected he might be.

Brian moved in on the next Saturday, and we both fussed over him to make sure he was comfortable, knew where everything was, and how to operate everything. His disco went in the basement and was set up to work, rather than stacked up to store. There were a lot of records, and we spent several hours as he entertained us playing ones we would pick out. Steven was obviously happy with him. He said it would be silly for Brian having to do his own meals, especially when he would be coming home the same time as me, we should all eat together, and everybody was happy with that arrangement.

Steven and I had planned to wander down the Monty around nine o'clock for a couple of pints. Gloria and David would be there. Like their place we were only five minutes walk away, but in the opposite direction. So at eight-thirty, whilst we were all sprawled around bored watching some television - and I was wondering how it would sound if I suggested Brian might want to join us - Steven asked him if he wanted to come with us. I couldn't believe my luck!

The three of us arrived there just before nine and we introduced Brian to all our friends, jokingly telling them to keep their hands off him - he was our chicken! Steven had already warned him he would be seen as new meat at the pub, and some there might want to take him home with them later, perhaps to an orgy. He said he really didn't want that, and asked us to make sure it didn't happen to him if he drank too much.  We promised to, and kept our eye on him as a never ending amount of drinks arrived for us, but obviously aimed at him.

Holding him up, we managed to get the giggling mass labelled Brian as far as Alf's at eleven, from where we took a taxi. I was terrified he might say something in that drunken state, or worse still try to kiss me. He was out for the count by the time we arrived home, and we had to carry him upstairs to his room where Steven pulled back the covers and I placed him on the bed. Puzzled, I watched as Steven then stripped him naked.

"Not bad," Steven said, looking Brian over and moving his bits around to inspect them. Then pulling the covers up over the lad to keep him warm, he kissed him on the lips and said, "Night, night, Johnny's little chicken. Sleep tight."

"Eh?" I was shocked.

"Did you think I wouldn't know, you daft arse. Both of you have it written in your eyes - in bold capitals. Don't worry, I can handle it. I'll have to, won't I?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't plan it. I still love you."

"I know you do. Come on, say goodnight to lover boy and let's get to bed."

Next time: there were three in a bed and the little one said . . . 

Johnny.

Copyright ©Michael Knell 2008.