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A STORY OF: ONE GAY LIFE
JOHNNY’S
JOURNAL
Chapter
25
Straight Guys And Gay Nights!
  The
house was far too big for just the two of us, and
extremely expensive to run, so a few months after Steven
left we put the word out we were looking for at least one
lodger. A new guy in town, Benny, here on a working
contract applied and was simply irresistible.
Self-employed, he took on contracts performing specialist
computer programming for large organisations, hopping all
over the world in the course of his work. However, for the
next year at least he was going to be stuck in Denbridge.
Plainly respectable, he was a prematurely balding
middle-aged guy, and seemed ideal - positively no threat
at all in the chicken stakes! I think Karl had been a
little worried in case some young guy applied. Now he had
me all to himself he warned me: he would not play second
fiddle to any newcomer.
Benny was unbelievable. A real tonic. By day he was the
straight-laced, straight-looking, straight-acting
businessman type, but when work was over his balding made
not one bit of difference - he still found a way to let
his hair down! He was a scream! Not a cross-dresser, he
would don anything for a laugh and camp it up. The garden
parties, barbecues and house parties, sorely missed at our
place over recent years (since Brian left), came back with
a vengeance to satisfy his appetite for fun, and ours too.
There was life in the old house again, and once more it
was a happy place.
The next few years were jam-packed party after party,
invite after invite, with Karl and I somehow finding the
time to fit in some fantastic holidays too. Now having
progressed into management within his firm, he like myself
was well-salaried. The cash-flow problem that arose when I
was forced into buying Steven's share of everything, and
determined to do it without resorting to a mortgage, was
in the distant past. Once again we were spending money
like water.
Things started looking up in Denbridge too. A dedicated
gay pub opened at the long-closed Cock & Hen -
affectionately referred to as the Dick & Dyke, and a
little later an aptly named almost full-time gay
nightclub, Percy's, opened nearby. Karl raced up the
promotional ladder at work and became indispensable to his
company which by then, following a merger and a take-over,
had become a part of a well known international
entertainment consortium. He was frequently away on trips,
and doing all the hectic kinds of things I once used to do
in my younger years with Ted. Slowly, hardly noticeably at
first, we began to live in different worlds. His was a
world I had no wish to revisit, and so gradually we
drifted apart.
 Whilst
Karl and his workplace progressed, exceeding all
expectations, where I was employed Arnold's arse was no
longer in the air, it was getting ready to hit the ground.
The results of his constant refusals to expand, take over
other companies, or even consider the merits of any of the
mergers frequently hinted at in my early days with him,
were now becoming evident. From almost nothing I had
within two years taken him into leading the first
division, and kept him there for a while. However without
that expansion it would be impossible to stay there. He
knew it; I knew it - and yet nothing I could do or say
would make him budge.
We still had many major contracts, and most of the
regional television companies continued to use us, but we
were fast becoming too small a concern to successfully
compete worldwide in the CGI industry which everything was
now becoming based around. We were in danger of descending
into division two. It was only a matter of time before we
arrived there - a race between that and Arnold retiring,
when we all knew he would simply close down, not even then
selling up or allowing another to rule his "self-made"
empire.
Benny lodged with us for two years instead of the
originally thought one year. Then after managing a year or
so without anyone else, Karl and I parted. It had been
coming for a long time and was no surprise. He had been
putting it around quite a bit, but had been good enough to
tell me so we used condoms on the increasingly rarer
occasions we performed. It was a bad time seeing him
go, tears were shed, but it was not a patch on when I'd
lost either Steven or Brian. As it faded out, I bounced
back almost straightaway.
 Nevertheless
with Karl gone I was again forced to seek a lodger if I
was to keep the house. A straight guy in his twenties:
Dennis, who was no stranger to me as with many gay friends
he regularly drank in the gay pub, filled the vacancy and
stayed with me for many years. He was a great guy, a bit
of a stickler for rules and a real hard nut, but although
undoubtedly straight he had a daddy type of relationship
with an older guy I'd known for years, one that wasn't
really based on anything sexual, but which seemed to
satisfy them both. Unasked for, Dennis took on the role of
protecting me - not that I needed protecting. This was a
guy who could handle any situation - and I really do mean
any situation.
These were strange years when various other people entered
my life too - some straight; some gay - staying with
me for a whole host reasons. Straight? Yeah, right!
There were times when I almost believed there was no such
thing. When a straight guy comes home after a night out,
bounces naked into your bedroom after midnight with a
massive lob on, switches on the light and says: "You're
gay - what yer gonna do with this?" then there's quite a
story to tell. This one involved a builder's labourer
named: Neil.
 Am
I sure he was straight? Well, by now the Internet was
commonly in people's homes. I too had it - with two
connections: one for each computer. Neil was allowed to
use one of them, and frequently did so when he was bored,
but he only ever visited porn sites - ones that were
unmistakably straight - and he would become very excited
over them. Noticeably so, with jiggling hand in pocket.
Nurses were his favourite turn on.
A quite good-looking twenty-four-year-old, he would go out
two or three evenings a week, mostly at weekends, to visit
vibrant pubs around the town in the hope of pulling.
Strangely, he rarely succeeded. It was something for which
I could never work out the reason. He looked reasonable,
smelled good, tasted nice, and favourably equipped for a
straight guy one could say he performed extremely well - I
know, he regularly came home and took his frustrations out
on me. Straight he may have been, but there was nothing we
didn't do in bed.
I missed Neil when after three months the job he was on
finished, and he returned to his hometown of Manchester.
However the very next day, around teatime, a gorgeous
young thing called Gary knocked on the door looking for
digs. As there were no adverts out for a lodger at the
time, I was mystified. Whereas Neil had been very butch to
look at, this one was the vulnerable butch type so often
associated with gay. The word "cute" belonged to him.
Interested, I asked him how he knew I was looking for a
lodger, and he said, with a humungous grin, that he was a
plumber's mate and had been working on the site where Neil
was employed. Neil had told him about me.
Told him what? "Are you gay?" I asked, then thought that
was a bit bold to come out with straightaway.
"No," he grinned, "but I don't mind that you are."
I wondered just how much Neil had divulged, as I asked him
when he wanted to move in. He said anytime. Now would be
good as he was in a B&B at the moment. He only needed it
for the weekdays anyway as every Friday night he travelled
home to see his girlfriend, returning early on the Monday
morning.
"The room isn't ready yet," I explained. "It's still as
Neil left it."
"That's okay," he said, "I can always bunk in with you."
And you can find out next time whether or not he did bunk
in with me.
Johnny.
Copyright ©Michael
Knell 2008.
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JOHNNY’S JOURNAL
Chapter 26
Stolen Kisses - And Meet The Family!
 When
Gary offered to "bunk in with me" it was all getting a
bit too much for the doorstep, so I dragged him
inside. It turned out the lad was basically straight
but, he confessed, with a slight bi tendency toward
the father figure. Well, at my age that was certainly
me! His room was ready within the hour it took for him
to fetch his belongings.
That night, a Thursday, we visited the Dick & Dyke
together for a drink, where I learned a lot more about
the guy. He lived in a village the other side of
Reading, was eighteen-years-old, and was saving up to
get married to Julie, whom he loved deeply. The wages
in Denbridge were much better than in Reading, so it
was worthwhile working here even after paying for
digs, though it was a lonely life for him. Wishing to
stay faithful to his girlfriend, he wouldn't go to the
straight pubs in case he got drunk with something then
happening, and he wasn't brave enough to go to a gay
pub alone. Most evenings he stayed in the B&B watching
the portable television in his room. But it seemed
playing with a daddy didn't count as being unfaithful
in his mind, so I couldn't believe my luck. However I
did wonder exactly what that play would involve if it
wasn't unfaithful. Ludo?
We carried on drinking and talking in bed that night,
where the alcohol revealed even more about the young
guy. He was still a virgin, and so too was Julie, he
had never had a daddy before, real or otherwise, but
had fantasised about one for as long as he could
remember. I wondered what those fantasies involved -
what did he do with his daddy in his dreams? So far we
had undressed in near darkness, jumped into bed, held
hands and talked. We hadn't even touched one another
anywhere important.
I was about to squeeze his hand and tell him I was
turning over to fall asleep, when suddenly he crawled
on top of me.
"We are going to do some gay things tonight, aren't
we?" he asked, playing with my lips with his
forefinger.
Oh, wow! His sexual appetite was very nearly
insatiable. We were at it for most of the night. A
complete novice and clumsy he may have been, but he
was absolutely wonderful. Julie was going to be a very
lucky girl one day. It was as much as I could do not
to fall in love with him myself.
That Friday evening, when I was expecting Gary to rush
in, quickly shower and change before leaving for the
weekend, he told me he'd phoned home to say that now
he had found proper digs he wouldn't be travelling
there until the Saturday morning each week, so again
we went to the pub, then this time on to the club,
before going home to another night of sex.
Gary stayed with me for six months, until his work in
the area ran out, and we slept together and had sex
just about every night he was there. We did everything
imaginable, except kiss. Kissing me he considered
would be unfaithful, so I resorted to stealing a few
when he was asleep. I think he knew, and was not
always asleep, but pretending to be seemed to satisfy
his conscience. I asked him many times during those
six months if he was sure he was straight, and he was
sure. He could only do what we did after a drink, he
explained. As many nights we did little more than
sniff at a cork, I guess that belief satisfied his
conscience too.
I met Gary again, many years later. I had moved by
then, but he persevered until he found me. He brought
Julie with him, a baby daughter, and their adorable
three-year-old son, undisputedly a mini version of
himself. He'd done everything he set out to achieve:
bought the two bedroom house they wanted, and married
his girlfriend. We spent a whole afternoon chatting
and looking through their photo albums, and when they
left Julie thanked me for looking after him so well.
When I told her it was a pleasure, there never had
been a truer word spoken. We still exchange cards at
Christmas.
Straight? I often wonder how many people can
draw a straight line without it being a little bent in
places? However the next guy to turn up could never
pass as being straight. Terry was more camp than a
tassel on Titania's tit. He was a good-time guy who
had not been seen around for a long time, having moved
away for a few years. Now back, he needed somewhere to
live. I rented him a room, and though not my ideal
sort of guy he was good like-minded company and we
often slept together. We even did two holidays to
Playa del Ingles together, but although he was
tragically in love with me, it was never close on my
part or destined to last - and it didn't.
The love I had for Terry was the love for a fun guy,
not a romantic kind of love, the likes of which he
would often show to me whilst we were out and about.
Because I couldn't return the same, I frequently felt
embarrassed. Nevertheless I don't regret our time
together. There was a lot of fun, and because like
Brian had been he was gaga for the naughty things in
life there was a lot on mind-blowing sex.
 Both
Dennis and Terry were still with me when I moved,
downsizing into a more affordable property nearer the
centre of town. That occurred about halfway through
the two years Terry was with me. The first year he had
worked, paid his way and pulled his weight, however
shortly after the move he appeared to become very
lazy, as if on a meal ticket, giving up his job and
not bothering to find another one. I wouldn't accuse
him of becoming a gold-digger, but he did give the
impression towards the end he was there for the free
ride.
There then followed two years without anyone close.
Going to the pub only one or two evenings a week with
Dennis, life became more than a bit boring. The nights
out were okay, pleasant enough, but without someone
close even in a crowded pub I was frequently hit by a
feeling of loneliness. The New Year's Eves were to be
avoided at all costs, but I was never allowed to -
there were too many people who insisted I joined them.
Jigging around and singing Auld Lang Syne is not to be
recommended when you have no one.
I was becoming accustomed to my new status - after a
while you do come to appreciate there are many merits
to not having a partner, or anyone close to worry
about - and I was at last even beginning to
enjoy it, when another young chicken, one who I
couldn't ignore, entered my life. Was he a gift from
Heaven, or Hell? Whatever, he turned out to be the
ride of a lifetime!
Find out about Sammy and that ride of a lifetime in
the next and concluding chapter of this journal.
Johnny.
Copyright ©Michael
Knell 2008.
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JOHNNY’S JOURNAL
Chapter 27
Sammy And I Go To The Seaside!
It was on leaving the pub one Friday night with Dennis
in 1999, that I noticed Sammy collapsed up against the
wall opposite. I had seen him inside the pub earlier,
and appreciated then his alcohol gauge showed 'full'.
So too had one of the bar staff who had invited him to
leave. The young lad was out for the count, and I
couldn't just walk on by and leave him there to either
be mugged or arrested, so we struggled him home with
us and put him in the spare room.
Next morning he thanked me for taking care of him,
before rushing off late to his job at a shop in town.
That was that, I thought. I'd been a knight in shining
armour and helped some unfortunate person. But that
wasn't that - he came back after work. And stayed!
 Sammy
had a bad history, brought up in care and frequently
farmed out to foster homes, he'd suffered a lot.
Homeless now, he needed help. That would have been no
problem, I could have put him up - except that the
following week Dennis and I were flying off to Playa
del Ingles for a break. Neither of us had anyone to go
with on holiday so we had decided to do one together,
staying at a gay complex but alternating our nights
between straight and gay places. Booked and paid for,
the tickets had already arrived, so we couldn't
cancel.
Over the next few days I noted Sammy obviously had a
problem with alcohol, but hoped that with some
stability in his life he would soon lose it. He had a
passport, having been on some foreign adventure thing
in care, and so after a battle between mind and heart
where the heart won, I managed to get him on the next
flight out to ours and an extra bed put in the
accommodation - at a cost double to the combined
amount of our holidays. The shining armour sure was
shining that year.
We all had a fantastic time, straight and gay, and
whilst out there Sammy and I became very close. Can
you really call it true love between an
eighteen-year-old youth and a guy of fifty-six? I
would rather say we bonded and a loving relationship
was born. We did a similar holiday the following year,
just the two of us, and without Dennis went to a lot
more gay places - and again the year after. We both
loved Gran Canaria. In between these holidays we did
many mad things, and visited all kinds of places,
pubs, clubs, and Prides in London and Manchester.
Sammy found himself a good job - many, many times. The
drink problem didn't recede and he was out of work
more than in it, but he continued to try. He hadn't
given up, and nor had I - but already he was costing
me a fortune to keep. When Arnold retired and, as
everybody knew he would, simply closed down the
business, I received a generous pay off. With it I had
already decided years ago I would retire to live
simply at a vibrant seaside resort I had once visited
with Karl and enjoyed a memorable few days, so Sammy
and I either had to call it a day, or he would have to
come with me. He chose to come.
It was the ride of a lifetime, and we weren't on the
big dipper. With jobs he could only hold down for a
day, and being brought home by the police several
times a week at all hours of the night, sometimes
naked, there were a lot of bad times, and Sammy found
himself in all kinds of trouble, all drink related.
The town had so much to tempt a young guy with
problems, it really got out of hand. Then one day I
came home, and he was gone. Just like that. All I had
to show he was there were a load of photographs, and a
twenty-five grand hole in my bank account. But I don't
regret one moment of my time with him. He was a
wonderful, wonderful guy. One who never stopped trying
to overcome his addiction. What more could I ever ask
of him?
I'm still at that seaside resort, bobbing along.
There's no one else in my life right now, and at my
age I doubt there ever will be again. But if there
ever is, and there is another chapter to write, then I
shall write it some day and you will find it here.
It's been a strange and varied lifetime, one of many
extremes, but I have no complaints. In this condensed
journal you have caught but only the merest glimpse of
it. For brevity far more has been omitted than could
possibly be included. There was so much more, but with
the exception of my two much-loved sons, a product of
my "straight" years at the cinema and removed from
here by literary licence, you have met all those who
were close to me - the people I have loved. Today I
still love every single one of them as much as I ever
did, and although I may at times have been unhappy
with some people, I have never hated anybody. Having
been both rich and poor, dined with royalty at the
best hotels and yet for a while almost lived in a
Wimpy, held jobs with status and at other times done
manual work, lived as a straight person and also as
what I really am and always have been: a gay person, I
have gained an enormous wealth of knowledge, and
perhaps been fortunate to experience more than many.
I have enjoyed my life. I hope you do likewise. It is
all you have - don't waste it.
Minds that rule make rich people, hearts that rule
make happy people, but something more is needed to
make rich happy people. May you all find it.
Johnny.
I am what I am - and these are some of the people who
helped to make me:
THE END?
Copyright ©Michael
Knell 2008.
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