HOME PAGE

BLACKPOOL SCENE

ACCOMMODATION

GAY PUBS + BARS

GAY CLUBS + SHOWS

GAY SAUNAS ETC

RESTAURANTS

SHOPS + SERVICES

COMMUNITY PAGE

GAY LIFESTYLE

LOCAL LINKS

LOCAL GAY MAP

THE BITCH!

PROFOUND BITCH

SWINDON SCENE

PLAYA DEL INGLÉS

GAY ICONS

KINGS OF CAMP

CELEBRITY PICS

WORDS OF WISDOM

WORLD GAY NEWS

IN OUR ARCHIVES

USEFUL LINKS

LINK TO ASTABGAY

LEGAL INFO

 
 
 

 

Free Translation.
Spanish
French
German
Italian
Dutch
Portuguese
Norwegian
using

FreeTranslation.com

 

Senior Gay Holidays in Blackpool.

 

 

  ASTABGAY BLACKPOOL

THE BLACKPOOL GAY DIRECTORY

 

 

A STORY OF: ONE GAY LIFE

 

JOHNNY’S JOURNAL

Chapter 22
Anyone you choose. Anyone at all.

 

Do not disturb.It was mid-morning of Christmas Eve, Steven and Brian were in town doing some last minute shopping, Karl was not yet up, and it was my turn to vacuum upstairs - a job I hated doing. Not prepared to wait around until Karl decided to face the world, I boldly swept into his room with the machine screaming away. He sat bolt upright with the surprise, and then disappeared in a ball under his duvet.  Having whisked it around the room, it was clean anyway, I switched off the noise and was about to heave it back on to the landing when he popped his head out from under the cover.

 

"Johnny, would you object if I was to have sex with someone here, in my room?" he asked, all serious.

 

Oh, oh! He wasn't celibate, then. The rest of us were beginning to wonder. But what could I say? He was way past eighteen, who was I to preach what the law states? Steven, Brian, and myself had all ignored it. It was better he did it there where we knew he was safe, than perhaps in some unknown's dirty bedsit. "Of course not," I said, "but don't forget those safer sex rules - we've all been to enough funerals." Then curiosity got the better of me, and I just couldn't resist it: "Who have you got in mind, anyway? Someone we know?"

 

"Someone very special to me," he said.

 

That only went to feed my curiosity. "Who's that? Someone nice?" I asked, trying to sound disinterested.

 

"The best," he said, "but you wouldn't vet who I could have, would you? I mean - I can have anyone I want, can't I?"

 

I was not going to be a mother hen, so I said, "Of course you can. Anyone you choose. Anyone at all."

 

He was an extremely strong young man, and before I knew it I was pulled down onto his bed where in one quick move he'd rolled me over and was on top of me, naked, looking down into my eyes. As I always vacuumed in just my underpants to keep cool, I felt quite vulnerable. The love was pouring out of his dilated pupils.

 

"You don't mean me?" I asked, looking up at him in shock.

 

"You said anyone I chose. I chose you that night in the Blue Lagoon all those years ago, and you've been my fantasy ever since. You don't wanna know how many times I've pulled my plonker whilst dreaming of you. I've waited five years for this: to have sex with someone; proper sex. I'm a big boy now, and I make my own decisions. You are that someone; you always have been. Lying here every night knowing you're having sex in the other room is agony. I want you. I love you. I really, really love you!"

 

Oh, my God! So that was why he never eyed-up anybody - he had a hang-up on me. "I love you too, Karl. Really, really love you. But it's a different kind of love. It's the love I would have for my son if I had one. And nobody ever has sex with their son, do they? We can't do this, Karl. We really mustn't." I pleaded.

 

"But I'm not your son! I'm me! Karl, a hot-blooded living being that loves you!" He said it loudly, with his strong hands pinning my arms to the bed as that love continued to pour down, now from eyes that were doing their own pleading.

 

Karl.Hypnotised, I lay there defenceless, unable to move, looking up into those eyes as they came closer and closer until, when they were almost touching, his lips enveloped mine. God, his kisses were like velvet chocolate on a warm moonlit night. They reminded me of Tony. He kissed like Tony. Helpless, I closed my eyes and melted along with them, drifting away into my heaven.

 

It was pointless trying to fight him off, I had lied, I knew I had, only saying what I thought I should say, what was expected of me - I hadn't loved him like a son for a long, long time. Not since I'd seen those hormones playing in his eyes the day he moved in. Ever since then I had seen him for what he truly was: a gorgeous young guy, one who fitted all my yearnings for youth, but never making a move because I already had two lovers, and besides we had that hard and fast jungle rule. There was Tarzan, Jane, Cheetah, and Boy - and nobody ever touched Boy. Not even us. But now Boy was no longer a boy, and he was changing those rules for himself - forcibly.

 

Being banged by a virile young guy, one doing it with all the vigour and excitement of the first time so that every position and place in the room had to be explored: on the bed, over the side of the bed, up the wall, on the carpet, this way and that way - and then him doing it fives times in total with hardly a pause between them - can really take it out of the older man. Exhausted, I was only able to oblige him twice, excusing myself by saying I'd done it before earlier that morning with Steven and Brian. He was like a machine: unstoppable. I was absolutely shattered when finally he collapsed onto the bed satisfied, to lie there cuddling me.

 

"I love you," Karl said.

 

"Still?"

 

He laughed.

 

"What are we going to say to Steven and Brian," I asked.

 

"Do they have to know?"

 

"I hid Brian from Steven once, but he knew about us within an hour. He's like that: not much gets past him. I promised him then I'd never hide anything again. We have that pact between all three of us."

 

"Do you still love them? Both of them?"

 

"Yes, of course I do. And as much as I always have done. Love is a strange currency. You can spend it all over the place, yet you'll never run out of it. It's not a bank account. Like eternity, there are no limits to it. Loving you doesn't mean I love them any less, though I'm not sure they would see it that way."

 

"The wise old man has spoken," Karl teased.

 

"Less of the 'old', thank you!" I thumped his arm playfully.

 

"I know what's in one of your bedside drawers," Karl said. "In the cellophane packet."

 

"Do you? Been spying on us have you?"

 

"No, Steven borrowed my nail clippers and didn't return them, so when I needed them I had a search around. I couldn't help but notice the packet. Do you guys take them often?"

 

"They belong to Brian, he's gaga for them. Though we have been known to join him occasionally.

 

Happy?"You can bet we'll all get well-plastered tonight, won't we? It's Christmas, so we're bound to. If you can make sure everyone has one tonight, then when you are all sky high I could sneak into your room and jump in bed alongside you. By morning they won't be able to object to what's between us, will they? They may even think one of them invited me into bed themselves to have their wicked way."

 

"And suppose they did have their wicked way?"

 

"Well, I'd lie back and think of you and England, wouldn't I?" he joked.

 

And that's the way it went - almost. It was one hell of a naughty night. Mind-blowing. However Karl failed to mention that he would be popping one too when he crept in. Far from surreptitiously slipping into the bed to be found in the morning, he couldn't contain himself. Like some wild thing possessed, moaning and groaning in ecstasy, he went through the lot of us, and me several times that I know of. Returning to the real world around breakfast time on Christmas morning, everybody was giggling at what Santa had brought us in the night. Neither Steven nor Brian questioned how Karl had really got there, perhaps for fear it was them who fetched him. But that at least proved something to me: I wasn't the only one who had changed the way in which I thought about the guy.

 

However it wasn't too long before we discovered that four doesn't work as well as three. Three go out of their way not to exclude, whereas four find it too easy to pair off. Big changes were on the way, and there were some real bad times to come. More on that soon.

 

Johnny.

Copyright ©Michael Knell 2008.

 

 (TOP OF PAGE)


JOHNNY’S JOURNAL


Chapter 23
Yule Tired Celebrations!

 

It's gone ten o'clock!Ding-dong . . . Ding-dong . . . Ding-dong, Ding-dong, Ding-dong!

 

The clock wouldn't focus, so I dragged it closer. "Jees!" I screamed. "It's gone ten o'clock already! That'll be Gloria and the gang we invited round for Christmas sherries!"

 

Three sat up, looked at me, and then burst out laughing. It was Brian in the end who slung on a dressing gown and ran downstairs to let them in, telling everyone to help themselves; we'd all woken up late - we wouldn't be long. But no such simple explanation would ever satisfy Gloria. Trying to get her exploratory arm up underneath Brian's robe as screaming he raced up the stairs away from her, she followed him up into the bedroom to find the rest of us nakedly surveying each other. There had been a vampire in the night. The only one without a love-bite was a very red-faced Karl.

 

"Well, I see you three have opened your present early," Gloria squealed in delight. "Hmm, looks like it's got quite a nice fitting too! How were the nibbles? I see you've had some."

 

Anything within range that wouldn't break was thrown at the queen, who quickly disappeared downstairs laughing. Did she have a story to tell the rest! We joined them downstairs about twenty minutes later. However not even the daring shaves and hot showers could hide the night we'd survived, and they all curled up at the sight of us - wrecked!  Far from us being the hosts, it was Gloria who was left to tend to everybody's drinks, including ours.

 

Sherry and mince pies."I never thought I'd see the day anybody would have Boy Karl," everyone's favourite queen crowed, "and then we arrive to find you've all had him for Christmas! How wonderful! Some of us thought he was going to enter the priesthood, darlings. What in heaven's name brought it on after all this time?"

 

"Goodness only knows! But it seems Johnny tried a bit of the cake yesterday morning," Steven said. "So Brian and I thought we might as well have a taste of it too - and it was very nice." He flashed his eyes across to where Karl and I were sitting opposite him.

 

He knew! Again!

 

Gloria and her entourage swept away little more than an hour later. The pub was open for lunchtime, so no doubt that was her next port of call. News needs to be broadcast, especially when it's a scoop. Karl had a heart to heart with Steven, telling him it was he who had started it, and come up with the deception when I wanted to come clean about it. Steven said he'd guessed that was the way it was, and told Karl not to worry, he'd known for a long time about his crush on me. The soul windows reveal everything, he told Karl. Once you learn how to look into them, there are no secrets. He was puzzled though why it had never happened before. It seems Karl, the romantic that he was, wanted to do it on a day that could never be forgotten. There wasn't the chance for his eighteenth, when he had planned for it, so the Christmas after that birthday was the next unforgettable instance, and this time the opportunity arose.

 

Xmas dinner was late.Christmas dinner was very late - six o'clock when it hit the table. We'd suffered "the munchies" all day and not stopped pigging at mince pies and the like, but we still managed most of it, and then passed the evening together quietly drinking and watching television. I sat there wondering what the bedding arrangements would be when we turned in that night. Now it had happened, I couldn't bear to think of Karl on his own in his room wondering what we were doing. Yet four people sharing every night, even in an emperor bed, was not going to be comfortable.

 

At two o'clock in the morning the film finished and it was off to bed. I was hesitating, when Steven suggested I should sleep with Karl as I was the one with the chicken fixation. I looked over at Brian expecting him to be upset with that arrangement, after all it was he and I that had last fallen in love. Steven - for want of better words - was just a willing but much wanted partner to it.  However as I looked at him, Brian put his arm around Steven. There was no show of any emotion towards me. Had I lost him? I wanted to say things, but I couldn't. Not there and then.

 

Our Xmas tree in front of the French doors to the conservatory Steven built.We'd been in bed only a few minutes, just cuddling and talking, when Brian bowled into the room naked. "Steven reckons we should all be together when we go to bed, like the family we are, and then because it would be too crowded you two come back here every night when it's time to fall asleep," he said, leaning over to kiss us both before grabbing our hands to lead us into the other room. "I brought a tray of drink up. It's Christmas. Time for fun. We want a rematch." He squeezed my hand a few times, it told me he was okay with everything, and I felt better about him.

 

It was another brilliant night of sex.  However as great as it may have been, I think everybody became aware of a difference that crept in that night. Whilst we were waiting to get blown away we talked, and confirmed how much we all loved each other, but it was noticeably becoming natural for Brian's hand to find Steven's hand, and for Karl's to find mine, no matter who was doing what with whom at the time. It was what Steven and I had done naturally all those years ago at Gloria's entertaining nights before we moved here. Although plainly we all still deeply loved one another, now it was no longer an equal threesome with a platonically loved one to care for, we had become two close but separate couples and not the equal foursome I had hoped for; even expected.

 

Next time we have our first row, and it's a spectacular one. Four suddenly become three - or rather: two plus one. Can we hold it together? And if so, for how long?

 

Johnny.

Copyright ©Michael Knell 2008.

 

 


JOHNNY’S JOURNAL


Chapter 24
And Then There Were . . .

 

Why does anybody start a row? What do they ever achieve? So often they are over the most ridiculous trivialities, things that don't matter at all, and then go on gathering pace until they blow-up into life-changing events. Such was our first one. Our only one.

 

All our crystal was destroyed.Cleaning up one Saturday morning, it seems Karl may have accidentally vacuumed-up a clasp that had come off Steven's watchstrap. Perhaps it had already fallen onto the floor, or maybe he or the vacuum cleaner hit the bedside cabinet and it rolled off only to disappear up the hose never to be seen again. There is no way now to ever know how it might have happened, but however it did, its value was negligible - nothing more than mere pennies. Nevertheless before the pointless row was over a lot of nasty things were said, and more than a thousand pounds worth of crystal glasses and decanters hit the deck, along with many other valuable household items. It turned into a blazing row; a right humdinger.

 

Of course, I sided with Karl, and straightaway got blamed for that by Steven. According to him Karl now came first for everything in the house, and that really wasn't true. I just knew he would not have deliberately vacuumed away the clasp, and felt it was wrong to have a go at him over it. Karl said he was sorry, and even offered to buy him a whole new watchstrap, but that did nothing to placate him.

 

After an hour of shouting and throwing things about, which culminated in the drinks cabinet being pushed over destroying all that crystal gathered over many years, Steven stormed off out. Brian, who for most of the time had stood ashen-faced by the door to the kitchen, rushed out after him.

 

Karl and I spent many hours cleaning up the debris, and trying to make the room look presentable again, before watching the television whilst we waited for them to return, hopefully with Steven in a better mood. It was late that night when Steven came home very drunk, gone midnight, and he went straight up to bed without saying a word. Brian didn't come home at all, and I was worried what might have happened to him. I couldn't ask Steven where he was for fear of starting everything off again, and anyway with the state he was in I doubted he would know.

 

Next morning, on the Sunday, Steven came into our bedroom early and said he was sorry. He regretted everything. And so did I. We had both screamed far too much at each other, and said things we should never have said; things that were totally undeserved.  Sitting down on the bottom corner of the bed, Steven then put his head in hands and cried like a baby; sobbing uncontrollably. It was only then we learned the whole truth. When Brian had caught up with him yesterday, after chasing after him, he'd told him to "go away" but in more unkind words - and then belted him around the head a couple of times! Poor Brian had run off screaming, shouting out that he was going to kill himself because nobody cared about him anymore.

 

I wrote a quick note saying how we were all sorry and we did still love and care about him.Within minutes, even at that early hour, we were all downstairs phoning our friends, everyone we could think of, airing all our dirty washing for them to enjoy, to find out if they had seen him or knew where he might have gone. No one had seen him, or knew anything at all. I wrote a quick note saying how we were all sorry and we did still love and care about him, and left it in the middle of the floor where it could not be missed should he return home, and then without even bothering to shower we each took a car out and went in search of him. We searched for the whole day, until it was becoming dark, but never found him.

 

I was hoping I would find him the next day at work, sitting at his desk, but he wasn't there and didn't arrive later. An emptiness engulfed me, and it hurt like hell. It wasn't the same there without him, his absence was gnawing at me. Did he not know I loved him, and just as much as I ever did? That only raised another question in my mind: when had I last actually told him I loved him that wasn't in bed whilst we were all fooling around? It should have been said at other times too. Feeling worse than ever I kept reassuring myself that every minute the police didn't turn up to tell us some awful news was a good sign. If he had done anything horrible, we would have heard by now.

 

That evening, as I swung the car onto our drive, I noticed that Brian's car was missing. Rushing inside I discovered his house keys, and the note replacing the one I had left for him in the centre of the floor.

 

To the 3 Most Wonderful Guys in the World,

I'm sorry. I got confused and I've been really stupid. I should have known you guys would make up, and that Steven didn't mean to hurt me. But it's too late now. I spent a couple of nights in London, got drunk and was really silly. There's no way I can come back now. I wouldn't put you at risk. I love you all too much for that. Another day. Another lifetime. Maybe we can do it all again and get it right next time. Thank you guys for so many happy years. I shall never forget them and will really miss you all, especially you Johnny, my first love. Thinking of you, as always. 

With All My Love - Brian. XXX

 

The fool! The stupid little fool! Of course he could have come back! The tears flooded out of me, I couldn't move and was still sitting on the floor re-reading the note, over and over again, looking for some hope in it, some clue as to where he might now have gone, when Karl came home. Then we bawled together. We guessed he had gone back to London, and that was far too large a place to search for him. Steven was utterly destroyed after reading the note. He started drinking heavily that night, and was never the same again.

 

Steven took up bird-watching.We struggled on for a year or so, a two-some and a lonesome, but it was no longer a happy house. Steven drank heavily, never joined in anything, and never visited any of the gay venues again, or even any of our friends - and they were already keeping their distance, frightened in case they were thought to be aligning with either side of an obvious split. We both resigned from the group's committee, neither of us had the heart to be involved anymore, though I remained a group member. Unbelievably Steven took up bird-watching, ornithology, bought binoculars, many books on the subject, and would go off for whole weekends, sometimes much longer, to sit hiding for hours in some God-forsaken windswept place waiting for the merest glimpse of a feathered rarity.

 

Then one day Steven came home and said he wanted out - and after twenty-five years together that wasn't so easily done. He was like my right arm, and I would have given anything for him to have stayed even though we weren't exactly hitting it off right then. From those early days when we had tried the taxi business, everything had been jointly owned. We even had a joint bank account, and the house was in both our names. But there was no way I could change his mind, he was totally without any emotion as he had been ever since reading Brian's letter that awful day. He didn't even want to try to recapture what we once had, he only wanted to go home and stay with his mother for a while, and so with solicitors involved the bank account was split down the middle, and in order to remain there I had to buy his share of the house off him. He only took a few things the day he left, and didn't even look back over his shoulder as he drove away. It broke my heart to know that now I meant nothing to him at all. I still loved him like crazy, and it took many months to get over him going, and perhaps I never have completely. Yes, I loved youth alright, and like me he was becoming an old man, but he was my old man! And now he isn't.

 

Between the two of us, Steven and I had earned a hell of a lot of money over the years, but by God had we spent it too! That settlement cost me nearly every penny I possessed, almost all my share of the bank account, which left me struggling to pay the enormous bills such a sizeable house amounted, and I sometimes wonder today why I ever wanted to stay there, for once he had gone it seemed so empty with just the two of us rattling around in it.

 

Next time things go even further downhill. Will they ever bottom-out and begin to improve?

 

Johnny.

Copyright ©Michael Knell 2008.

 

 

UPDATED REGULARLY

  Add to Favourites and call back!

 

 

 
Many of the storylines in Johnny's Journal are based on actual events which have then been fictionalised. Where necessary names, locations and dates have been changed to protect anonymity. All pictures are stock photography and employed only for effect.   Michael Knell.
  

(TOP OF PAGE)


Google
Web www.astabgay.com Get This Search Box

   Languages by Linguaphone
 

Copyright 2000 to 2008 ©AstaBGay. All Rights Reserved.
Click here for Terms & Conditions and how to contact us.
 


Open Directory Project at dmoz.org