Date: Tue, 12 Jun 2001 21:43:46 -0000
From: Jeffrey Fletcher <jeffyrks@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Bringing out of Stefan Corby

This is the first story that I have tried to get posted.  It was written a
little while ago. It is set in the UK, where I live, and I hope that its
Englishness will not spoil it for any readers who may be the othe side of
the Atlantic or elsewhere. It mentions cricket, our greatest game, but it
is not essential by any means to know the intricacies of that game.

It is one of a series of stories that I have been writing about Richard
Lee.  This story, though it just mentions him, stands on its own.  It was
my first attempt to engage in some of the more serious issues involved with
gay sexuality.  So I must warn you, there is consenting sex between adult
men in the story.  If that is illegal for you, or offends you in any way,
then surf on.

I would be grateful for any comments or criticisms and helpful suggestions
for any future stories.  You can Email me on jeffyrks@hotmail.com



The Bringing out of Stefan Corby.

The morning of the 25th January began like that of many others for Stefan
Corby.  He got up at the usual time,  shaved and showered in the usual way.
Ate his customary breakfast of two weetabix and one slice of toast, with
fruit juice and black coffee.  He took a cup of tea upstairs for his wife,
and gave her a parting kiss.  He looked in on his two children, waking them
and encouraging them to get ready for school; and then left to catch the
7.43 train.

If any of his neighbours had seen him; and some of the men were in the same
procession to the station, then he would be accounted as a typical resident
of that well heeled  London suburb.  At the age of thirty three he was still
in the prime of life.  He kept fit by playing hockey during the winter;
maybe no longer for the club's top teams, but at a respectable level for his
age.  During the summer months he played cricket for a local team.  He went
to church most Sundays in the winter, cricket took up his Sunday time during
the summer.   In August he went with his family for a three week continental
holiday.

Only Stefan knew that he was not what he seemed.  He could not date when it
had started;  it had all been so gradual.  He sometimes reviewed his past,
searching for clues, wondering when and why it had begun.  There was nothing
that he could remember from his school days;  and nothing too from his time
at Cambridge, where he had read law with success.  He had married Diane with
a hundred per cent sexual attraction to her.  Then he could remember
admiring the physique of a man on the top diving board at the local swimming
bath, and that was about two years after his marriage.

If he could not trace back the when and why;  he was in no doubt about the
inner tensions of the present.  He knew how much during the winter months he
liked to look at the bodies of the other members of the team, through the
steamy heat of the showers after the game.  He knew how much he liked the
contact, and wished it would last, when someone casually brushed against him
flesh to flesh in the shower or changing room.  During the summer he knew
how much he admired the bronzed torsos of workmen,  and especially when they
bent forward revealing the tops of the buttocks and divide between.  He knew
how much he stole glances at bulges in the fronts of jeans, wondering what
was within.

He certainly would never have called himself  gay.  He knew about such
things only from what he  read  in the papers; and the Financial Times, and
Daily Telegraph were not the most fulsome sources of information on the
subject of sexual orientation.  He knew nothing from that greatest of
teachers, personal experience.  He had certainly never talked to anyone
about such matters;  and like most English men of the late twentieth
century, he had no close friends to whom he could talk personally about
anything anyway.  When he considered himself;  he took strength from the
fact that he was married, the father of two children, a lawyer working at a
Merchant Bank in the city of London, a hockey and cricket player,  a
respectable member of the community.  The 'other' side of him;  yes, and he
sometimes saw it as the darker side of himself, was held firmly  in its
place.  He sometimes mused on his initials, on the brief case, that he
carried every day to and from work.  His middle name was Ulysses, named by
his father, an army major, after General Ulysses Grant, of the American
Civil War.  S.U.C - Safely Under Control or even, Sexuality Under Control.
That was what he thought;  but an event on that January day was to start a
sequence of events that were to change his life.

It did not happen on the tube, even though he had to strap hang the whole
way, and the bottom of a very attractive young man was thrust against him
through three stations of the journey.  It did not happen as he walked to
the Merchant Bank where he worked, or when he greeted Giles, the 6ft 6in the
ever smiling black doorman at the entrance.  It certainly did not happen
when he arrived in his department, for those who worked with him there were
totally without any outward appearance of sexual vitality, whether straight
or gay.

Just after the morning cup of coffee his internal phone rang, and he was
asked to go up to see  the managing director;  an Anglo-Indian called
Richard Lee, to discuss a small point in a legal document.  A large part of
Stefan's work involved either examining with the greatest care the small
print on some legal document;  or else himself producing the small print for
other legal experts in other businesses to examine.  He was with Richard Lee
for about half an hour, before returning to his office.

It happened when he got back to his office.  There were four men who worked
in that particular office,  with the head of department having his own inner
sanctum;  Stefan was hopeful that when the present incumbent retired, which
was due within the next twelve months, he would be promoted to head of
department.  When Stefan entered the office there were only two men there,
one was seated at his usual work place with his back to the door;  but
bending over his shoulder was a young man who Stefan did not recognise.
What caught Stefan's attention was the tightness of this man trousers,
revealing a pair of shapely buttocks, and the thigh and calf muscles of his
right leg.  Stefan looked, and he knew that rousing attraction within.  In
the moment that he stood and looked, the man turned; and as Stefan raised
his eyes to look at the man's face, the man knew exactly where  Stefan's
gaze had been  focused.

The man smiled broadly. "I am Peter Broad," he said, extending his hand.  "I
am new here, only started  working here a fortnight ago."

"I'm Stefan Corby.  I have been here for eight years."  Stefan replied,
rather automatically, beginning to wonder if Peter had correctly interpreted
the nature of his earlier gaze.

Peter turned back, and continued the work his was engaged in.  Stefan walked
across to his usual chair and sat down, pulling some papers towards him.  He
felt slightly flushed, wondering what exactly had happened.

Nothing further happened for several days; and Stefan began to think that
the incident was totally passed.  He had seen Peter several times, sometimes
in passing in the corridor, or in staff canteen.  They had acknowledged each
other with a smile, and a casual 'hallo'.  Then one morning he went into the
  loo nearest to his office.  It was a small one, with three urinals, one
closet, and two hand basins.  When Stefan entered it was empty; and he went
at stood at the middle urinal.  Soon afterwards the door opened, and Peter
came in and stood alongside.  Both men stood staring at the wall.  Peter
opened the conversation, and they chatted about the weather.  Peter zipped
up first and went to wash his hands, Stefan followed shortly afterwards.  As
Peter was drying his hands under the automatic drier, he turned to Stefan,
"You're gay, aren't you?"  The question caught Stefan so completely by
surprise that he blushed, something he had not done for years,  and he
blurted out "I'm not sure."

"Not sure!" exclaimed  Peter, "If you are; that would make at least five of
us in this place."   He turned and walked out of the loo.  Stefan stood
confused.  He put his hands to his face.  What had he done?  What had he
said?  He felt that some genie of disaster had escaped;  and that he was
waiting for it to strike.

The next few days were painful for Stefan.  In his worry he was bad
tempered,  he seemed to have moved further away from his wife.  He shouted
at the children.  He found that he was prone to make stupid mistakes with
his work.  He tried to avoid going to places where he might run into Peter
Broad.  He now always used the large main loo on the ground floor;  there
were always several people in there and he believed there was safety in
numbers.

Then about ten days later he had had to work later than usual.  The building
was quiet, only a few were still working, and several cleaners were
beginning to appear to do their work.   He packed his case, put on his coat
and made his way along the corridor, only to find Peter going in the
opposite direction.

Peter gave his usual welcoming grin.  "I was beginning to think you were
avoiding me.  I have been thinking over what you said, when I asked that
question in the loo the other day.  You said, 'I'm not sure'.  Do you really
mean that?  I'm gay; and have known it ever since I was a kid.  If you are
not certain, that probably means that you probably have a lot of
homosexuality in you.  Perhaps you would like to talk about it some time?"

"I'm not sure," mumbled Stefan,  "I'll think it over."

"Okay.  I'm around, and easy to find."  Peter gave him a gentle pat on the
shoulder and walked away.

Stefan did think it over.  He thought it over very carefully.  He weighed up
the pros and cons of talking it over with Peter.  He considered whether he
could trust Peter.  He considered whether he would or
could be helped by talking it over with a person like Peter.   He eventually
decided that if the opportunity arose;  yes, he would talk.

It was about ten days later that Peter met him just as they were both
entering the building in the morning.  "What about a lunch together?" asked
Peter.

"Yes, I would like that,"  and they arranged it for the next Thursday.

Stefan found that he made his way to the office with mixed feelings that
Thursday morning.  On the one hand, he wondered what he was letting himself
in for.  Was he starting something that was going to get out of hand and
land him in all sorts of problems.  On the other hand,  he knew that he
needed to talk to someone who might be sympathetic.  Peter might be someone
able to help him to understand himself.

They met as arranged in the foyer of the office.  Peter quickly got a taxi,
gave the directions, and they were on their way.  "I know a small pub where
we can talk.  It is not too busy, even at lunch time."

Peter was soon ushering Stefan into one of those small London pubs, that are
tucked away in the back streets.  They went up to the bar, ordered their
sandwiches and drinks.  They went to a table in a corner, with their drinks
in front of them, as they waited for their sandwiches.  Stefan looked round.
  At first glance it seemed like any other pub, and then he noticed that
there were all men in it.  But that was not totally unusual for mid -day
London.  Then Stefan noticed a couple of young men in a darker corner
engaged in a passionate kiss.  He also noticed two older men, at least in
their sixties, sitting at a table, and underneath the table one had a hand
very high on the thigh of the other.  Peter followed his gaze.  "Yes, it is
a gay pub.  Haven't you ever been in one before?"

"No.  Never."  Stefan's gaze concentrated on the two young men.

"Let me tell you about myself.  Then you can tell me as little or as much
about yourself as you wish.  I must trust you not to broadcast all that I
tell you round the office;  and you can trust me in return."  Peter
proceeded to tell his story, only pausing to glance appreciatively at the
young man who brought them their sandwiches.  It was quickly told, it was a
story of a fairly early realisation of his sexuality,  while he was at
University.   Which was immediately followed by a very active sex life.
Stefan listened, amazed, and in some ways excited by what he was hearing.
There were many questions he wanted to ask, many details he would like to
have had filled in; but he knew that it was now his turn.

"When you asked me if I was gay, I said that I did not know.  That is true.
I don't know.  I went to a good local school.  It was still a grammar school
in those days.  In the sixth form some boasted of their female conquests,
and their sexual prowess.  I was one of the majority, who just listened.  If
there was any homosexual activity I knew nothing about it.  I got a
scholarship to Cambridge.  I worked and played hard.  I don't think I was
very interested in girls.  My first job was in a legal firm in Manchester.
I joined the local hockey club;  and it was at a hockey club dance I met
Diane.  I had always presumed that at some stage I would meet a girl who I
liked, and we would get married and have a family.  We got on really well
together.  When I took her home to meet my parents, they liked her.  Same
with her folk.  I think both mothers, in particular, began to hear the sound
of wedding bells, and the patter of grandchildren's feet.  Our friends said
how well we were suited.  In many ways we were,... are!  We got married
twelve years ago.  We have two children, Brian, aged ten; and Louise aged
eight.  They are great kids.  That's the easy part;  the rest is not so
easy.  I don't know how to begin"

"Just say what you want to say.  I'll try to be a good listener."

"One of the things that I do remember happened just after Brian was born.
Diane and myself had gone swimming.  A slightly plump woman walked past, and
I thought I am not attracted to her in any way.  Isn't that horribly
intolerant of me?  I was immediately rather ashamed.  Then I saw a young
man, I suppose in his early twenties up on the diving board.  I thought,
there is beauty.  It was for me an eye opening moment.  We live in a culture
where in human kind only the female is thought of as beautiful.  And here
was I, struck by the beauty of a man!  I then began to see more beautiful
men;  and then I began to realise that I was being stirred sexually.

"I am a member of a hockey club.  After a game, we shower.  In the showers I
would see naked men,  and I would think about the sight longingly
afterwards.  Occasionally some chap would brush passed me,  and I began to
wish for something longer, an embrace,  a more intimate contact.  Then there
would come a rejection of these thoughts.  I would say to myself they were
wrong.  That I must not dwell on them  I must not fanticize.  I would
struggle, and sometimes for quite a while I would seem to succeed; but then
something would happen, like you bending over old Smither's desk the first
time we met;  and the thoughts of men would coming sweeping irresistibly in
as though a sea wall had been breached with a powerful rising tide.  I often
feel that I am a crazy mixed up kid, as the saying used to go.  I am ashamed
of myself.  Here am I, well educated, a graduate, a lawyer, a professional
man, one who uses his mind, and I am a prey to emotions that I am ashamed
of, and cannot control."

Peter reached forward and for a moment held Stefan's arm.  He released it,
saying, "Hold on a moment.  You are more than a mind, a thinking machine.
You are a man of flesh and blood, not just of little grey cells.  You must
take notice of your feelings. These emotions are a part of you.  Perhaps
these emotional thoughts are saying something to you, about you, that is
important.  Perhaps you should start listening to yourself."

"Sometimes I feel as though I will explode, or go mad."

"Your story is not totally unique.  I know my story is different, very
different.  I knew very early on that I was gay;  but that too created great
problems, I'll tell you about them some day.  There are many like you who
only gradually, and later rather than earlier, discover that they are gay.
I suppose you wonder  if this is the real genuine you that is surfacing;  or
is it just a passing phase.  May I ask you a direct personal question.  Have
you  ever had any gay sex?"

"No."

"Do you want to have some?"

"I don't really know.  On the one hand yes, I do, very much.  On the other,
I am fearful that if something happens I will be pushed finally over to the
gay side, with irrevocable damage to my marriage;  my relationship with my
children, whom I dearly love;  and if it got out, to my career.  Bang would
go any prospect of promotion.

"What about your marriage?" asked Peter.  "Does Diane know about these
things you have been telling me?"

"No, no way!  I dread to think of what would happen if she knew,... if I
told her."  He paused for a moment.  "We stopped having sex about eighteen
months ago."  There was another longer pause, before he continued almost in
a whisper.  "I remember one or two occasions, when we were still having sex,
when I half woke in the night, and I began to make love to Diane.  As I put
my hand down to arouse her I was hoping to find a penis and balls.  As I
became more awake, I knew I was disappointed.  When I became fully awake I
was horrified at myself;  even disgusted with myself.  The first time it
happened I thought I was some sort of monster."

Peter responded equally softly.  "May not what you hoped to find have been
an expression of the genuine desires of the real you?"

"Maybe.  I must think about this."

"You are a very thinking sort of person.  You must not just listen to your
mind,  you must listen to your psyche, your gut, the real deep inner you."
  Peter looked at his watch.  "Time is getting on,  we will have Richard Lee
after us!"  With that they got up to go.

"Thank you  for listening.  You have given me a lot to think about." said
Stefan.

"Not at all.  Anytime.  If you like, we could do this again;  but when you
are ready."  So they made their way back to the merchant bank.  As always
they were greeted by the ever smiling Giles.

Stefan and Peter quickly fell into a pattern of lunching together every
Thursday.  They went to the same pub;  and both cast admiring glances at the
same young man who brought their sandwiches to the table.  Their
conversation was not always on the subject of sexuality.  They talked about
sport, about politics, about religion, Peter never attended church except
for christenings, funerals and the very occasional wedding, and about the
bank.   Stefan noticed that Peter never gave the name of the other gay
people in the bank, though conversation several times revealed that there
were several such.  Peter used to touch Stefan, with a pat on the back, an
arm on the shoulder; and sometimes a gentle squeeze of the lower thigh.
Stefan liked the contact, but never felt free enough to initiate or respond.

Sometimes Peter would tell of his gay life-style, and Stefan would listen
with a fascinated longing.  After two months, Peter casually asked if Stefan
and Diane ever spent time away from each other, apart from work and sport.
Stefan replied, "Oh yes,  most school holidays, and always for the half
terms, Di takes the children up to her parents in Manchester.  I very rarely
go, except for Christmas, which is a compulsory fixture."

"Next time she's away, what about meeting up in town, and I will show you
some of the scene?"

So it was fixed.  The next half term was only three weeks away, and they
arranged to meet up on the Friday evening.  Stefan had to go home to change,
as Diane had left with the children that morning after Stefan had gone to
work.  He was eager to find out where Peter was going to take him;  but got
no answer, except that it was not going to be anywhere 'way out'.

First, they had a meal together.  They went to a Soho restaurant, which was
almost exclusively gay.  The food was good,  the lighting and music subdued;
and Stefan watched the goings on.  But there was not a great deal to see.
Peter told him the place livened up later in the evening.

Then Peter took him to see the film "Priest."  They watched with interest as
the younger priest wrestled with his sexuality, and all the problems it
caused.  When it came to the more explicit sex scene,  Peter put his hand
just past half way up Stefan's thigh, and gave him a gentle squeeze.  Stefan
responded by putting his hand on Peter's hand, and giving him a broad grin;
but though he liked the hand there, he did not want it to move any higher,
as he was only too conscious of the erection he had acquired.

After the film they went to a Half Way to Heaven  for a drink.  It was a
noisy, crowded place, and the lighting minimal.  On the benches and seats
there was a lot of activity.  Men were kissing and cuddling, and hands were
groping.  As the drank their beers, unable to talk because of the music,
unable to move much because of the crowd.  Stefan had his left buttock
squeezed, and decided he like that too.  When they had finished their pints,
Peter gave a jerk of his head towards the door, and they began to inch their
way through the seething mass of mankind.  When they eventually got out on
to the pavement Stefan exclaimed,  "Well, that was an experience!"

Peter laughed.  "What now?  Would you like to come back to my place for a
coffee."

Stefan looked at his watch.  "Why not?  I don't have to be back at any time;
  and if it gets that late I can always go home by  taxi."

They made there way by tube to Islington and the socially upwardly mobile
area where Stefan lived.  It was a terrace house.  Originally built for a
family, with servants working in the basement and sleeping in the attic, but
with three floors for the family between.  The house had descended the
social scale, and was now on the rebound.  It had been bought cheaply, and
developed into several highly desirable flats.  Peter's flat was on the
floor immediately below the attic.  It consisted of a spacious hall, and
large reception room that had four windows across the front of the house;  a
kitchen, bathroom, a medium sized bedroom with a medium sized television in
the corner, and a small bedroom or box room.  It was tastefully furnished,
with a thick carpet and curtains, and some excellent water-colours.

As they entered Peter switched on the light;  indicated where the loo was,
and ushered Stefan into the large room.  Stefan sat down on a large settee
while Peter went and prepared the coffee.  After a few minutes he came in
with a percolator and cups on a tray, and proceeded to set the coffee maker
to work..

"What did  you think of the film?"

"I enjoyed it."

"What about the sexy bit?" said Peter, "Have you ever seen anything like it
before."

"No, I'm afraid I have led a sheltered life when it comes to the gay side of
life.  I know that is difficult  to believe in this day and age.  But being
married makes a big difference.  But I did enjoy it."

"I thought you did."

Peter was desperately trying to work out whether to try and take things any
further that evening.  He decided not to;  Stefan had still further to go
before he would be ready to respond to a definite advance.

"I've got some much more explicit videos.  I might show them to you some
other time."

The conversation then returned to the film, and they discussed whether the
young priest was right in getting angry with God.  Peter thought that was a
good part,  and showed further reality;  Stefan, being the more correct, was
not happy with the incident. After half an hour  Stefan looked at his watch,
and said that as he could still catch a train home he ought to be going.
They stood up and made their way to the  door.   When Stefan started to
thank Peter for the evening, Peter reached out and gave Stefan a hug.
Stefan's immediate reaction was to tense his body,  but quickly he relaxed
and put his arms round Peter.  "Yes thank you.  I would like us to meet like
this again."

Next came the Easter holidays, and though they tried to arrange something it
proved impossible, as neither of them was going to be in London at the same
time.  So the next evening they had together was in the middle of the summer
term.  It was in the middle of a hot spell; so after they had had a
lingering meal, they decided that they did not want to be inside so they
walked  down through Trafalgar Square, and round St Jame's Park.  Then they
made their way back. to Brief Encounter, another noisy crowded gay pub for a
drink.  Peter bought the drinks, and led the way through the very crowded
ground floor bar.  Then they went downstairs into the basement.  The noise
was greater here, with the steady powerful beat of the music.  Except for
one spot were Stefan felt a blast of icy air from the air conditioner, it
was stiflingly hot.  The room was full of men, some just standing watching,
others moving to the music,  and a few intimately together moving to the
beat.

When they had half drunk  their beers Stefan realised that he needed to go
to the loo.  He handed Peter his glass and explained where he was going.
Peter grinned and said, "Be careful."

Stefan made his way to the loo.  There were several men, of various ages
there, talking and laughing.  While Stefan was at the urinal and man in his
late twenties, probably slightly the worse for wear, came and occupied the
stall next to him.  The young man leaned over and looked down at Stefan's
cock.  "You've got a good one there.  Any chance?"

Before he could think, Stefan replied, "Not tonight mate, its already
booked."

"Good on you.  Somebody is in luck."  The other man zipped up his jeans and
walked out.

Stefan was non-plussed at his own reaction, and reply.  He washed his hands,
and then saw the funny side of what had happened, so he walked back into the
bar with a broad grin on his face.

"What happened to you?"

"Oh, I'll tell you sometime."

They finished their  beers,  and they both began to move to the beat of the
music.  They grinned at each other.  Peter put his hands on Stefan's
shoulders and they danced together, looking into each others eyes.  The
drinks, their movement, and the  heat made them sweat.  Stefan could feel
the perspiration running down his back. After about half an hour, Peter
suggested they left.  They made their way up the narrow staircase to the
road.  It felt pleasantly cool after the heat below.

"Back to my place?" said Peter.  This time they did not catch the tube, but
walked.  When they entered the flat, they both felt damp and dirty.

"Would you like a shower?" asked Peter,  "I can always lend you a shirt and
pants.  You'll feel a lot better then."

"That would be fine.  I feel that I must stink to high heaven."

Peter handed Stefan a large towel, and said,  "You go first."

Stefan went into the bathroom.  There was a bath, hand basin, and a stand-in
shower.  He quickly undressed, adjusted the temperature of the water,
stepped in, and closed the shower door.  He had just soaped himself, and was
beginning to feel much better, when the shower door opened, and Peter
stepped inside.

"Move over a bit, I could not wait."

Stefan was surprised!  He felt Peter's body alongside him, and immediately
he was conscious of getting an erection.  He turned  his back toward Peter
in his embarrassment.  He felt Peter's hands grip the tops of his arms and
turn him.

"What's the matter.  You not ashamed of what you' ve got, are you?".

"No, but I am ashamed of what it is doing."

"There's nothing to be ashamed of.  I'm getting quite a hard on."  They
stood face to face, and looked down at each other.  There was not much to
choose between the two cocks that jutted out towards each other.  They
looked up into each others eyes, and laughed.  Peter pulled Stefan towards
him, put his arms round him, and began to kiss.  Peter first felt Stefan
tense, almost enough to want to pull away;  but then he relaxed, and
Stefan's arms were round him.  They stood together, each conscious of the
other's cock;   hands beginning to move on each others back, lower each
time;  and exchanging kisses.

"Where have I been so long?" sighed Stefan, coming up for air.

"Perhaps you are now discovering who you are!  What you are!"

They got out of the shower, and  before beginning to dry themselves, stood
and looked at each other.  Peter was tall and slim, with a small patch of
fair hair on his chest, his circumcised penis thrusting out from a thick
patch of hair, his testicles hanging loosely and heavily.  Stefan was
shorter and more muscular from his sporting activities, with a large patch
of dark brown hair on his chest, his uncircumcised penis rampant, and his
testicles out of sight, gathered up, because he was the more aroused.  They
both approved at what they saw, and laughed.

"What would you like?" asked Peter.  "A drink?"

Peter went into the kitchen and soon came out with a couple of glasses of
red wine.  He handed one to Stefan and led the way through to the bedroom.
He pulled the duvet off  and  got onto the bed.  He sat upright and raised
his glass to Stefan,  "Here's to us!"

Stefan got onto the bed and sat beside Peter, sipping his wine.   After
several  moments of mutual silence, Peter put down his glass and raised his
arms.  "This is the life, a hot summer evening, a comfortable bed, a glass
of wine, and best and most important of all a naked man alongside me."
Stefan turned and grinned at Peter.  Peter then took Stefan's glass and put
it down on the bedside table.  He then put his arms round Stefan and kissed
him.  Immediately Stefan's cock began to harden, and again he felt
embarrassed.  Peter sensed this, and put his hand on the hardening cock.
"Feel free.  Don't worry.  We do what you want, no more."   By some mutual
sense they slid down, their arms round each other, their legs entwined.

Peter began to kiss Stefan, first kisses on the lips, then all over his face
and neck.  Stefan lay back.  He had never been kissed like this, it was
though his body was being tuned up to a new pitch of awareness.  The kisses
were on shoulder, chest, and nipples.  He had never before realised what
sensations could come through his nipples.  Peter then lay back.   Stefan
then lay on top of Peter, and began to kiss Peter face and neck.  It was
then he felt a familiar sensation in this new situation arising in his
loins.  "Oh damn! I'm going to come," he said as he tried to pull away. But
Peter was too quick for him.  He grasped Stefan, hugging him closely so he
could not move away.  With a groan Stefan came, his spasms shooting a
copious load onto Peter's belly.

"I'm sorry....."

"Why?   Don't apologise.  I hope you enjoyed it.  I did.  Your pleasure was
my pleasure.  You will soon refuel and be ready for off again."

"But I came all over you."

"So what"  He got off the bed, and got a small towel, and wiped himself,
before handing it to Stefan.  "I don't mind.  I may come all over you next
time."  They lay on the bed together.  Stefan held in Peter's arms.  "Relax
now.  That was good."  Within a few minutes both were dosing.

About half an hour later Peter stirred.  Very gently he began  to stroke
Stefan's back and bum.  After a few minutes he too was fully awake.  Stefan
looked at Peter, and grinned.  "Do you know what happened when I went to the
loo at the pub?  A young chap propositioned me.  I said that I was already
booked for tonight.  I must be a prophet!"

Soon they were both active in arousing each other. The night passed quickly,
with periods of about an hour's sleep, followed spells of sexual activity of
an elementary kind.

Stefan glanced at his watch, and saw that it was nearly nine.  He lept from
the bed.  "I must get going.  I've got a cricket match started at 11.30.
Fortunately it is a home match."

A quick shower, and a quick bite of cereal and toast, and Stefan was ready
for away.  They stood for a moment in the hall.

"Thank you, Peter, for last night.  I feel different.  I feel fulfilled, and
fully myself in a way I have never felt before.  Thank you."  They gave each
other a hug and a quick kiss.

Stefan travelled home on the train to collect his cricket gear remembering
with a thrilled joy the evening and night before.  Throughout the cricket
match, his mind wandered back over what had happened.  Fortunately he did
not drop any catches, though his score was rather less than that seasons
average.  The sense of joyous well being lasted through out the evening.  He
wondered if any of the other cricketers, in his own team and on the other
side, were like himself.  Peter had said that something between one in six
and one in twenty were gay, so on the law of averages there may well have
been at least one other gay man playing cricket that day.  Who?

It was about 10.00 the next morning, just as he was doing various odd jobs
round the house, and tidying the place ready for Di and the children's
return that evening, that the first wave of guilt and shame swept over him.
He had never been a great church goer, but he knew that what he had done
yesterday was not right in the eyes of the church  and of  God.  The thought
of  Di;   would she see what he had done written on his face?  What if Peter
crowed about the night at work, and it got out.  Dismissal, scandal and
shame!  He sat down, put his head in his hands.  He thought of his parents,
Di's parents, the children.  He sat for over an hour, and then began to get
going again, and prepared for the cricket match.  The game and the company
kept the feelings away, and he felt fine when drinking his couple of pints
of bitter at the bar after the match.  He even began to wonder at what he
had felt during the later  part of the morning.  Then as he drove home the
feelings of the morning returned.

Di did not notice anything different.  She chatted about her visit to her
parents, and barely asked him how he had got on.  The next morning, as he
made his way to work, he began to wonder how he was going to face Peter.  He
arrived at the bank, and Giles the doorman, gave him his usual warm
greeting.  He saw nothing of Peter in the morning, or over lunch.  It was
late in the afternoon when  he was deep in concentration, that he felt a
hand on his shoulder, as Peter whispered in his ear, "Are you okay?"

"I think so."

"I'm around if you want me.  You know where to find me."  Peter gave his
shoulder a gentle squeeze and was gone.

He was not all right.  He was on an emotional roller coaster.  He swung up
to moments of great happiness, and the belief that he had really discovered
himself, and then down to moments of black guilt, fear and despair.  What
did the future hold for him?  What would happen to his marriage?  He had
only one person who could possibly help.  The next morning he sought out
Peter and told him that he needed to talk.

They went for one of their pub lunches.  They had no sooner got their drinks
than Stefan began to pour out his troubles. Again the attractive young man
served them, but only Peter had eyes  to admire the tight trousered figure.
He took about five minutes to narrate all that he had been through since he
had said goodbye to Peter on the Sunday morning.

Eventually Peter was able to speak.  "I'm not surprised at all at what you
say."

"Why?"

"Let me put it this way.  Think over your past for a moment.  You are a man
with some religion in you;  and what does your religion say about what we
did on Saturday night?"

"It condemns it, completely and utterly."

"Yes, but there are a number of Christians, some of them of the cloth, who
don't go along with the official line.  It is an up and coming area of
debate in the church at the moment.  But I don't want to go into that now.
At that public school you went to;  what was the line there?"

"Against.  You were expelled if you were caught, a couple of....."

"Yes, I'm sure.   And at University?"

"Definitely frowned on.  Those who were gay were mocked."

"Exactly!  But what about your marriage, is that saying anything?"

"Well, I suppose so.  Being married is a contradiction."

"Yes.  Now can you see what I'm saying in all this.  The whole of your
upbringing condemns in no uncertain terms what we did on Saturday night.
But there is that other side, the upward side of your roller coaster, you
felt good at what happened. Felt you had discovered your real self.  You
felt warm and fulfilled, right?  Now, let me use a simple illustration.  You
are like a chicken in an egg.  The thirty odd years of your life have been
spent in a shell with hard attitudes of condemnation towards homosexuality.
Those attitudes have surrounded you.  Over the last few months you have been
like a chick pecking at the shell.  On Saturday evening you broke a hole.  A
small hole through which you could see.  The same shell, that has encased
you, also in another sense made you feel safe.  Now you can see out,  you
can see a different scene, and because it is different you are afraid.
Because it is against all that you have been brought up to believe to be
right, you feel guilty.  Does that make any sense to you?"

"I suppose so, though I do not like being described as a chick."

So their conversation went on.  They returned to the bank; and were as usual
greeted by the tall muscular Giles.  Over the succeeding days Peter made a
point of seeing Stefan each day, and checking up how he was.

It was three weeks later that Stefan sought out Peter with the request, "Any
chance of seeing you at your place?"
"Is your wife going away again?"

"No, but I can make an excuse to be late home for one evening.  If I tell
her several days in advance of a meeting or something, there should be no
problem."

On the Tuesday of the next week they left the bank slightly earlier than
usual.  The ever happy Giles bade them good night,  though the sun still had
several hours to shine over London that day.  The moment they entered
Peter's flat, their arms were round each other.

"That's what I want, desperately,"  said Stefan.

"I thought you would be wanting some more," said Peter at the same time.
They kissed.  Stefan's hands went down to Peter's crotch  unzipping the fly
on the way, and his hand began to make its way in.  Peter's hand undid
Stefan's tie and began to unbutton his shirt.  They began to make their way
towards the bedroom, entwined and casting a different garment at each step.
  With one hand Peter pulled off the duvet, and they on the bed clad only in
their shorts.

Oh damn! I'm coming again," said Stefan, as he shot into his boxer shorts.

"Don't worry," said Peter.  "When did you last unload."

"Last time I was with you."

"Do  you mean to say you haven't even had a wank since then!  No wonder you
came so quickly.  Never mind,  if you're anything like last time, you will
soon reload.  I've got something that may help."  He got off the bed and
went into the large reception room for a moment.  When he returned he
switched on the television and got into bed.  "I've got my video wired up
for here, as well as the other room."

The screen flickered, there were various credits, and a film began.  "I'll
get you a drink while you watch," said Peter.

The film showed two young men riding  bicycles through some beautiful
countryside.  After a while it began to rain, and they made their way into a
barn.   They sprawled on some hay.  One of the boys put his hand on the
others leg.  So it progressed soon they were engaged in oral sex.  Stefan
watched amazed..  He had heard of it, but never seen it.  He hardly noticed
that his cock was rising again.

"I can see that you are enjoying that," said Peter as he entered the room
with the drinks, giving a nod in the direction of Stefan's erect member.
"Would you like me to do that to you?"

"Yes, I think I would."  Peter sucked at Stefan for a while, giving great
pleasure.

"But you must come before I come again."

"Not necessarily,  but lie back and I'll come between your legs.  Stefan
gripped Peter between his legs, enjoying the feel of the large cock.    "I
like this," he said.  After  several minutes Peter came; and they lay,
holding each other.  They turned to look at the television.  One of the two
young men was fucking the other.  "That too is   a possibility," said Peter.

"I think that will take some more thinking about."

"If  you do, in these AIDS afflicted days, make sure you always wear a
condom, you must play it safe."

Stefan stayed for about two hours, and then made his way home.

**************

The Corby family took their holiday in France that year.  They had a gite on
a large estate, where every available building was converted into holiday
accommodation.   There were a couple of tennis courts,  a boules pitch, and
swimming pool in the grounds, as well as other things for the children.  It
was also close to the beach.   It was Stefan's turn to look after the
children during the mornings, as Di was a keen tennis player.  It was a part
of an unspoken contract that Stefan could go off on his own for an hour or
two later in the day if he wanted to.

One afternoon they were down on the beach,  Di and Stefan were reading and
keeping an eye on the children.  Stefan finished his book, and was bored.
"I'm going for a stroll," he said.  He went off along the beach.   He had
noticed on previous days  a few people taking what  seemed to be a path of
sorts, leading up over and round the head land at the end of the beach.  He
decided to explore.  There was a faint path.  It led him up through some
rocks, and scrubby trees, and then began to descend to sea level.  After a
good half mile of rough walking he came out on a small beach.  There about
twenty men sunbathing in the nude.  This was something Stefan had never
done.  Topless women had become a common sight, fairly common even in
England;  but bottomless men was something new.  He walked along, trying not
to appear too obvious in his assessment of the male endowments on show.  He
decided to join in.  He placed himself several feet from men on each side,
and proceeded to strip off.  He lay down on the hot sand.

There was very little activity.  Occasionally  someone would go for a dip in
the sea, or walk along the beach.  After about half an hour a rather very
bronzed portly man walked along and stopped by Stefan.  "I have not seen you
here before.  Is this your first visit?"  The man sat down and engaged
Stefan in conversation.  No sexual overtures were made.  The man told Stefan
many things that he did not know about the whole area.  One particular item
of information was of special interest.  The man said that the place for a
pick up was the other end of the main beach, where there were some dunes
behind, but it must be after dark.  During the day the whole area was full
of screaming children, but late evening!!

Three days later Stefan noticed that certain thoughts and desires  were
coming frequently into his mind.  After they had eaten, and the children
were getting ready for bed, he said that he was going off for a stroll.  Di
was eager to get her head back into her latest P.D.James.

Stefan slipped out, and made his way with a certain trepidation down to the
beach.  It was a glorious moon lit evening.  The sea sparkled in the moon
light.  Once on the beach Stefan hesitated.  He wondered if he would end up
with a knife in his guts.  The odd English tourist had been murdered in
France.  He walked on slowly, just a few feet from the water's edge.  When
he reached the end of the beach he stopped and stood looking out to sea.
There seemed to be no one around.  Perhaps he had chosen the wrong evening,
or he was too late, or more likely too early.  He waited.  Then he heard the
crunch of footsteps in the shingle.  He turned and a man came up and stood
beside him.

The man spoke in French.  Stefan's French was very weak, but he could make
out something about 'le mer', and 'la lune'.  He replied in broken French,
which the Frenchman had equal difficulty in understanding.  They stood there
in a strange expectant silence.  Stefan  wondered what to do,  his French
could not initiate let alone sustain a conversation in this sort of
situation. So they just stood.

After what seemed to Stefan to be an age, the other man spoke, put his arm
on Stefan's shoulder and pointed to  the lights of a boat out at sea.
Stefan's immediate inclination was that of most Englishmen, to pull away at
the touch of a stranger.  But he remembered something  Peter had said.  He
stood still:  the arm remained round his shoulder, so very slightly he
shifted his weight towards the man.  After another pause the man in turn
moved a fraction towards Stefan., and made what sounded like an appreciative
murmur.  So they stood closely together with no movement.  Any observer
would have thought they were a rock or statue.  Then Stefan felt a  finger
gently stroking his neck and ear lobe.  He moved closer and sighed
contentedly.  The hand left his neck and began to stroke Stefan's shoulder
and upper back. Stefan was conscious that he was beginning to become
aroused.  The hand moved slowly down and began to  fondly Stefan's buttock.
Stefan turned and put a hand up to stroke the other man's cheek.  They then
clasped each other in a firm embrace.

The Frenchman took Stefan's elbow and led him towards the dunes at the back
of the beach.  Stefan could make out that his companion was slightly shorter
than he; and probably slightly younger.

The Frenchman stopped and stood in front of Stefan.  In the moon light they
could make out each others smiles by the reflection of the moonlight on the
other one's teeth.  As if by an unspoken command they raised their arms, and
put them round each others shoulders, first in a hug, but then in a deep
kiss.  They both moaned appreciatively.  Stefan was conscious that his penis
was risen; and was not wanting  the Frenchman to realise it. The Frenchman
pushed his groin towards Stefan, and in spite of the denim jeans they were
both wearing, he could feel the Englishman's hardness.

After several minutes standing enjoying each other, the Frenchman pulled
slightly away, and his hand went up to Stefan's chest, undid two of the
buttons of his shirt, and pushed his hand on to his chest.  He ruffled the
patch of hair on Stefan's chest, and then felt for his nipples.

Stefan decided to copy the actions of the Frenchman, and soon his hand was
doing the same.  The Frenchman undid some more of the buttons on Stefan's
shirt, and then using two hands, undid the buckle on his belt, and pulled
down the zip.  Stefan stood still, and felt the hand first feel his cock
through his boxer shorts, and then to make its way down passed the waist
band of the shorts.

Stefan now decided to take a different course.  He too undid the belt and
zip, but he thrust both hands down the back of the others pants, and began
to fondle the Frenchman's buttocks.  The Frenchman now began to sigh and
groan with pleasure.  Again as if by mutual consent they pulled apart, and
began to undress.  As soon as he was naked the Frenchman lay down on the
ground, and Stefan joined him.  They looked at each other;  and Stefan
admired the other man's thick muscles.  In the moonlight he could make out a
thick but not very long cock, the head almost completely covered by the
foreskin, but with the tip of the glans glistening with moist pre-cum.
The Frenchman put out his arms, and Stefan came to him.  They kissed, and
stroked each other.  The Frenchman lay back, pulling Stefan on top.  Again
they lay kissing, Stefan fondling one of the other's nipples, while both of
his buttocks were fondled.  A cool evening breeze on Stefan's back
accentuated the warmth of their togetherness.

The Frenchman moved, placing Stefan's cock between his legs, and gripping
tightly.  They lay barely moving.  Stefan's tried to hold it, and delay his
climax, but to no avail. With a loud groan his cock pulsated, and shot a
full load between the man's thighs.  The Frenchman murmured, "C'est bien."

He then rolled on top of Stefan's and everything was repeated.  They held
each other in a relaxed contentment for several minutes.  Stefan stirred.
"Thank you, that was good, very good."

In very broken English the Frenchman said, "Now in the sea."  He stood up
and ran down into the sea.  Stefan followed.  They swam out about 100 yards,
embraced and kissed; laughing aloud at the sheer pleasure of each other.
They walked slowly up the beach hand in hand.  They dressed.  The Frenchman
gave Stefan a quick kiss on both cheeks.  "Merci, mon amie."  He turned and
walked away over the dunes.  Stefan walked back to the edge of the sea, and
sat for half an hour  thinking over all that had happened.

When he got back to London Stefan soon told Peter all that had happened on
holiday.  "Good man," said Peter. "Do you know what you are now?"

"Oui, certainment."

"Now you know that I must tell you something.  Every so often I hold a party
for  my gay friends at the flat.  Let me know when your wife is going to be
away for a weekend, and I will arrange to have one."

It was at the end of October, at the children's half term.  Stefan arrived
at 8.30, and rang the door.  Peter let him in.  You will know some folk from
work, others you will not know.  Come in and meet them."

The first person Stefan saw was the tall figure of Giles.  "Peter said that
there would be someone new who I knew along tonight.  I wondered if it would
be you.  Welcome."  And he gave Stefan an all enveloping hug', to which
Stefan responded without hesitation and with enthusiasm.