Date: Mon, 10 May 2004 19:08:29 +0000
From: Jeffrey Fletcher <jeffyrks@hotmail.com>
Subject: Two Jubilees....Part 22

This is a story that involves sex between males.  If such a story is
offensive, or illegal for you to read where you live, then do not continue,
go and surf elsewhere.

This is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives of any specific
person or persons.  If there is any similarity to any real persons or
events it is entirely coincidental.

The work is copyrighted (c) by the author and may not be reproduced in any
form without the specific written permission of the author.  It is assigned
to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it
may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written
permission of the author.

My thanks to John and Michael who have read this through and made a number
of corrections and suggestions.  Any remaining errors , grammatical,
spelling or historical or whatever are entirely my fault.

I am trying to use terms that were used by us who were young in the UK at
that time, and not to use anachronistic terms, like gay, blow job, wank,
and cum.  It is surprising how difficult it is.

If you want to comment on the story then do contact me on
Jeffyrks@hotmail.com.  I aim to reply to all messages.

Two Jubilees and One Spitfire.  Part 22

Resume:- Trevor Russell is now an undergraduate at Camridge.

   Part 22 Problems old and new.

The Summer term brings its reward to those who have survived the rigours of
the first two terms of the academic year at Cambridge.  Instead of the
dampness of the fens, and the east wind straight from the Urals, there is
the beauty of Cambridge in early summer.  The ancient buildings seem to
glow in the warm sunshine.  The trees are in full blossom.  There is the
scent of new mown grass on the lawns of the backs of the colleges which
sweep down to the river Cam.  But if any undergraduate should become too
intoxicated with the sheer beauty of the scene, the summer term is also,
through some primeval error of the academic system, the term for exams.

Trevor's past came back to him in the second week of term.
  He and Paul were studying in the library late one evening.  The light of
the setting sun was streaming through the stained glass of the library
windows.  Trevor was working hard reading for an essay on the economic
effects the wars of Edward I.  He was tired, and his mind was not working
with its usual level of concentration.  He had open in front of him a
biography of Edward II.  He did not know much about that King.  He skip
read about Edward's childhood, and the harsh regime of his father the first
Edward, the conqueror of Wales,
 and the Hammer of the Scots.  He read with interest about Edward II's
close, and probably sexually intimate friendship with Piers Gaveston, and a
later possibly intimate relationship with Hugh Despenser.  He flicked
through the closing pages, to find out how Edward II died.  He read how he
had been held a prisoner in Berkeley Castle.  One night the king had been
stripped naked, forced face downward, and a metal tube was forced into in
his anus.  Then a red hot poker was forced through the tube into the bowels
of the king.  The screams of the King were reputed to have been heard well
away from the castle.  The gaolers thought this was a fitting way to get
rid of a king who had allowed the penises of Piers Gaveston and Hugh
Despenser entry at that place.  Also there would be no mark on the royal
corpse to betray the way he had died.

As Trevor read the account he felt the pain afresh of Fred's invading cock
years before, forcing its way suddenly, and violently into his virgin anus.
The abuse hit him again.
  The pain was still there.  He buried his head in his hands and began to
weep.

Paul heard the sobs, and looked across at Trevor.  He saw that his head was
buried in his hands and his shoulders were shaking.  Paul rose, and came
across and put his arms round Trevor.  "What on earth's the matter, Trev?"

"Oh nothing.  Just something from the past."

"You need a good stiff drink.  Come on, it's time to call it a day anyway."
Paul gathered up Trevor's and his own books.

Trevor wiped his eyes, and followed Paul out of the library and through the
quad to their rooms.  He sat in an arm chair in Paul's room, while Paul
poured hefty tots of whisky into a couple of glasses.

"Now what from your past has come back to haunt you?"

Trevor buried his head in his hands.  "I'm ashamed to tell you, Paul.  It
is too terrible."

"I may not be a priest yet; but I do know that telling someone about
something that is troubling you is always a help.  Whatever you tell me
will stay with me.  I will regard it as having the seal of the
confessional."

Trevor raised his head, and looked at Paul for a moment.

Paul came and knelt in front of Trevor, and put a hand on his shoulder.
"You can tell me."

"I value our friendship, Paul.  Telling you this will put it under strain."

"I doubt it.  I don't think this is something against me, or involving me.
You said it is something from your past.  Before we met?"

Trevor nodded.  "Long before."  There was a long silence before he
continued.  "Life was grim in the East End during the war.  As you know, my
father was killed in an air raid."

"Yes, you've told me that."

"Family life went to pieces when Dad died.  Mum just couldn't cope.  Not
only losing her husband, but having to work for the war effort, rationing,
and me a growing lad.  She started having men at home.  Some stayed for a
week or so,
  I think the longest stayed for about three months.  I am so ashamed
telling you all this."

"I don't judge you for that, Trev.  I don't judge your Mum.  She missed
your dad.  She was wanting affection and sought it with the men she brought
home.  Who knows what any of us would do in such circumstances.  So what
was this re-awakened memory from the past?"

"Do you know anything about Edward II?"

"Didn't he have young male friends?  I remember reading Marlowe's play.
Didn't he meet a rather gruesome end?"

Trevor nodded.  "I read about it for the first time this evening."

"So how did that stir a memory for you?"

"I was brutally and savagely raped by one of my mother's men friends.  He
was called Fred."

"And reading about Edward II brought it all back to you?"  Paul put an arm
round Trevor and hugged him.

Trevor nodded, and his eyes moistened.

"Thanks for sharing that with me.  How old were you?"

"About ten."

"Poor you!  That's a terrible thing to happen to a young boy.
 He just shoved it in?  No preparing you at all?"

"None.  He was big, and it felt like a red hot poker.  I bled quite a lot,
and was sore for several days after."

"Lucky there was no lasting physical damage.  Though there is obviously
mental damage, coming to the surface today.  What happened to Fred?"

"He did a bunk when he saw what he'd done to me."

"Am I the first person you've told?"

"Isaac, my Guardian knows.  My friend Fergus in Scotland knows But apart
from them, no one."

"I'm no expert in psychology, not done any priestly training yet, but I
reckon telling me will be a help to you.  You will probably need to talk it
through several times.  I'm here for you, Trev.  What you've just told me
makes me value your friendship even more.  I'm here for you any time, day
or night."

Trevor looked Paul in the eyes.  "Thanks Paul.  Thanks for listening.
You're one in a million."  He stood up, and Paul followed from his kneeling
position close to Trevor.

They stood facing each other.  Paul put his arms round Trevor,
 who followed suit.  They hugged.

"Thanks, Paul."

***

Over the next couple of weeks they talked more of those events years
before.  Paul asked questions.  Trevor told him exactly how it had
happened.  Eventually Trevor found he could talk about it without feeling
the pain, and without wanting to cry.

One evening towards the end of the two weeks, Paul had gone back to his
room after their good night drink.  Trevor sat in his chair and thought.
He realised that he had told Paul about Fred, but there was much more in
his story about Bill, and Len and Isaac that had not been told.  He
resolved to tell Paul everything.

He walked across the landing to Paul's rooms.  Paul had sported his
oak.[See footnote] But Trevor decided to break with convention and knocked
on the outer door.

Paul in pyjamas came and opened the door.  "I had just got into bed, Trev."

"I am sorry to disturb you so late.  But there is more I need to tell you."

"Come on in.  I'll put on my dressing gown, and we can talk."

They went into Paul's study.

"What more have you to tell me?"

"All I've told you about Fred and what happened is true, but there's a lot
more to my story.  My life got into really bad ways after the Fred episode.
I was seduced by a man called Bill, and he acted as a pimp, and I worked
for him."

"With men?"

Trevor hung his head and nodded.

"Trev!!"

"I only did it for a few weeks, and then I met Isaac."

"How did you come to meet him?"

"I was afraid you would ask that.  But I will tell you the truth.  If it
ends our friendship.....I can't say, `well and good'.  I shall be sad.  But
I will have to grin and bear it."
   Trevor looked down at the carpet.  "Isaac was a customer, a client.  My
pimp, Bill sent me to him."

"Trev!"  Paul's mouth was open in astonishment.  "Yet, you've stayed with
him?"

Trevor nodded.  "It was different with Isaac, almost from the word `go'.  I
went into his room and there was a map in the newspaper, and I've always
been interested in maps.  We started talking, and he showed me an atlas.
He treated me as a human being, and not just as a lad he wanted to have sex
with.  As you know he is a refugee from Austria.  He was lonely, and
craving for affection.  I was equally desperate for love.  I suppose you
can say we fell in love with each other.  I know I did, and he says he did.
I started staying for a night at weekends, and then for longer, and
eventually my Mum allowed me to go and live with him.  I had to promise to
see her regularly and I visited her once a week until she died."

"Trev, do you and Isaac,.... still?"

"Yes." replied Trevor in a whisper.  "Does that shock you?"

"It comes as a surprise.  I suppose I am shocked, though I have known that
there are men, boys who like doing things with boys or men.  Some boys at
Eton did things together.  I know of several."

"Did you?" asked Trevor.

Paul shook his head.  "Public School life is very artificial.
 I have no sister, so I have met very few girls.  A few older or younger
sisters of school friends.  Very, very few of my own age.  To be quite
honest I don't know how I would get on really meeting a girl socially,
apart from at some party.
   I have hardly ever been alone with a girl in a room.  Usually someone
else is present."

"I've not had much more experience of girls." said Trevor.  "It is strange
having girls in lectures, and so on up here."  There was a moment or two of
silence.  "I'm glad I've got all that off my chest."  He stood up to go.

Paul stood up, and came over and put both hands on Trevor's shoulders.  He
looked him in the eye.  "Trevor, thank you for telling me all that.  For
me, it makes no difference to our friendship.  In some ways I value your
friendship even more.  I respect you.  For me all that is under the seal of
the confessional," he added with a grin.  "Oh and by the way,
 I hope you'll come down to Winchfield in the Long Vac for at least a
week."  He pulled Trevor to him, and gave him a quick hug.

***

The friendship with Paul deepened during that summer term.  They continued
to talk through Trevor's early experiences.  Paul shared something of the
loneliness and home-sickness of life in a Preparatory School at the age of
seven, and then Public School.  Their early lives had been so different and
each was interested in the other.

Trevor wondered that term if there was any possibility of a sexual
friendship with Paul.  He would have liked that, but he did not want to
make a first move and risk the very satisfying relationship he already had.
He decided that as Paul knew the truth about him, it would be up to Paul to
make any possible first move.

Trevor became an enthusiastic oarsman.  The end of the term saw Bumps Week.
The river Cam is too narrow for boats to race side by side, so a great many
years before an ingenious scheme had been devised.  A number of boats rowed
upstream with a boat's length between each boat. The aim was to bump into
the boat ahead.  The next day they raced again, only this time any boat
that had been bumped was placed behind the boat that had caught up and
bumped them.  Whenever a boat was bumped both boats pulled into the side,
both were out of the race for that day.  Occasionally when a boat had
bumped and both boats had pulled into the side, the boat behind succeeded
in catching up the boat that had set out three places ahead.  An over-bump
was a great triumph, one boat moving up three places and another moving
down three places.  Many boats rowed the course and neither bumped or were
bumped.
 All the colleges had several boats, and the races were in divisions, The
top boat in a lower division rowed in the bottom place in the next
division, and the bottom boat in the higher division had to row in the
first place in the lower division.  The prize position was to be first in
the top division.  That was to be Head of the River.  The college whose
boat ended the week's racing as head of the river had a special feast in
the college hall, and an old boat was burned in celebration.

Trevor was one of two first year men who were placed in Beaufort's third
boat.  They were bumped on the first day, and succeeded in getting their
revenge on the third day.  Otherwise his boat just rowed the course.
Beaufort College regarded it as a good year as its boats had bumped more
than they had been bumped.

The Revd Percival Crampton-Brown who had been on the tow path cheering each
college boat personally went round and congratulated each and every college
oarsman and cox.  "Well done, Russell.  I thought you'd make a good oarsman
at your interview.  You've not proved me wrong.  I expect you'll be in the
first boat next year.  Another good year and it might be possible for us to
become Head of the River.  I want to see Beaufort Head of the River before
I die.  The last time was when I rowed, back before the First War."

***

The Long Vac was an exciting time for Trevor.  He decided to work for four
weeks and got a job with the building company that he had worked for a year
earlier.  Relations with Brian resumed the day after his return to
Leytonstone.

When he finished working he went down to Winchfield.  This time there was
no nervousness.  He was made welcome.  Paul's father respected him as
someone who had seen military action, and who, coming from a deprived
background, had won a scholarship to Cambridge.  Paul's mother regarded him
as someone who had had a hard life, and needed the spoiling that only a
woman can give.  Both were pleased with their son's friend, and thought
Trevor was good for Paul.  Trevor valued the friendship and realised how
much Paul was giving to him.

The long summer days meant they could be out and about a lot.  Trevor did
more horse riding.  He had brought his bicycle and they went out exploring
the countryside.  They were also disciplined in their academic work, doing
two hours reading each day.  They often did this sprawled on the ground in
the shade of a tree during the hottest part of the day.

It had been arranged that Isaac would come back to England for a week,
bringing Heinie with him.  Then Trevor would return with them both to
Frankfurt for a further week.  As the day approached for that part of the
Vac.  Trevor grew apprehensive.  He wondered how he would be when he came
face to face with Heinie.

There had been a lengthy correspondence between Frankfurt and Leytonstone
about the sleeping arrangements.  Trevor insisted that Heinie sleep with
Isaac; after all Fergus had slept with Trevor on his visits to London.
Trevor made one stipulation; that he was not kept awake by the creaking of
the bed springs in the front bedroom.  It was, after all, the same request
that Isaac had made when Fergus came to stay.

Trevor decided that he would meet them off the boat train at Victoria
Station.  He did not tell Isaac of his plan.  Trevor spotted Isaac getting
off the train, and observed the smartly dressed blond young man who
followed him - Heinie.  He watched them walk towards the ticket barrier.
As Isaac was not expecting to be met he did not see Trevor waiting at the
barrier.  Trevor was standing to one side, and he let them pass.  He then
came up on Isaac's side, "Good afternoon, Herr Rose.  Have you had a good
journey?"

Isaac put down the cases he was carrying.  "Trev!"  They flung their arms
round each other, much to the surprise and consternation of people around.
Such open demonstrations of affection between men( in public )were unheard
of in the summer of 1954.  Isaac then introduced Heinie to Trevor.  The two
younger men formally shook hands.  They made their way down on to the
Circle Line.  It was the rush hour so they had to stand all the way to
Liverpool Street, crushed closely with people returning home from work.

Trevor, speaking in German, asked Heinie about the journey.  The use of
German was overheard by a man nearby who muttered in Trevor's hearing words
about `Bloody Krauts!'.  Trevor turned to the man and with his broadest
cockney accent that could only have been acquired by years living in the
East End said, "If you don't button up your bleedin' gob, you'll get my
fuckin' fist up your perishin' `ooter."  The man stood open mouthed with
surprise, while Isaac barely controlled his laughter.  Heinie just did not
understand what had happened.  At Liverpool Street they changed on to the
Central Line for the short journey out to Leytonstone.  As they came out of
the station Heinie looked around.  It is about half a mile from the station
to 37 Chelmsford Road.

Trevor had prepared a meal before leaving for Victoria.  Once inside the
house Isaac gave Trevor another hug.  "Good to see you again, Trev."
Trevor saw Heinie out of the corner of his eye, standing rather embarrassed
not knowing what to do."

Conversation that evening was fairly easy.  Isaac had told Trevor all about
Heinie, and Heinie knew all about Trevor.  At one stage Isaac went upstairs
to do some unpacking.

"Trevor, are you sure that it's all right for me to sleep with Isaac.  I
don't mind sleeping alone, especially as this is your home."

"Isaac allowed me to sleep with my friends.  So it is only fair for you to
sleep with him.  It would not be good for to you to be lonely at night
while you are in England," added Trevor with one of his cheeky grins.

"Isaac has told me about you.  You are very special to him.  There is no
way that I want to come between the two of you.  I love Isaac.  He has
given me a lot of help, and taught me many things, but you are for him the
number One, it is enough for me to be number Two."

"I must confess, Heinie, that I was a bit worried when Isaac told me about
you.  My head said it was fine, but my heart was uncertain.  I am now
happier about it all.  I am glad that Isaac has got you in Germany.  He has
a great capacity to love.  I have friends I love over here, it is right
that he should have you over there."

At that moment Isaac came back into the room.  He sensed from the silence
that the two of them had been talking.  "What have you two been talking
about?"

"You, Isaac!"

"Oh, what about me?"

"We were discussing the inadequacies of your sexual techniques," said
Trevor with a dead pan expression on his face.

"If you were not bigger and stronger than me, and were still the small
urchin that once stood shivering on my doorstep, I'd put you across me
knee, and spank your bare bottom."

"Oh yes, please!  Any time."

Heinie looked on, totally amazed at this badinage, German humour being so
different from the English.

When bed time came, Isaac and Heinie went into the front room, while Trevor
went into his own room to sleep alone.  Trevor lay awake for nearly an hour
trying to think over what he felt about Heinie.  He seemed to be a nice
enough man.

Trevor had no difficulty with Heinie during the day.  Isaac and Trevor took
Heinie sight seeing in London.  They got on well together.  They talked and
discussed.  Trevor spoke of his experiences during the London blitz and
these were compared with Heinie'sof being bombed by the RAF and the USAF.
They shared their experiences as soldiers, fighting very different enemies
in radically different surroundings. An alliance formed between Trevor and
Heinie to tease Isaac, usually about his age, which, according to them,
made him geriatric.

They toured the sights.  They went round the Tower, visited St Paul's and
Westminster Abbey.  They went up the Monument.  The went by boat down to
Greenwich, and up the river to Kew Gardens.  They also went to the Friday
night Sir Henry Wood Promenade Concert in the Royal Albert Hall.  It was a
predominantely Beethoven evening.  They heard the Violin Concerto and the
Eighth Symphony, before hearing some Poulenc in the second half.  On the
way home they had a heated discussion about the merits of Richard Wagner,
liked by the two youngsters, and detested for political as well as cultural
reasons by Isaac.

It was the nights, especially those minutes before sleep that Trevor found
difficult.  He wondered what Isaac and Heinie were up to in the other room.
He listened for noises, but heard nothing.  He knew that he had no reason
to feel bad.  Isaac had allowed, even encouraged him, to sleep with Fergus
when he had stayed.  Isaac had known all about Con, and Brian.
 It was wrong, unjust of him to feel in any way jealous.  He spent several
hours during the time of Heinie's stay lying awake, with his thoughts and
feelings chasing around.

Heinie had to return to Germany several days before Isaac.  That evening
after they had eaten their meal, Isaac turned to Trevor.  "What's the
matter, Trev?  You are not your usual self."

"I don't like me.  That's the problem."

"Why?"

"It's all about you and Heinie."

"Oh!

"I don't like me, because there is a part of me that was resentful towards
Heinie sleeping with you in our bed."

Isaac started to speak, but Trevor put his hand up to silence him.

"I know you suggested a different arrangement.  It was I who rightly
insisted that Heinie slept with you.  I know how understanding you have
been towards me with Con, Fergus, and Brian.  I have absolutely no grounds
for feeling bad.  But the truth is, Isaac, there is a part of me that does
feel bad.  It is made worse by the fact that I like Heinie.  He's a nice
man.  I think it would be easier if I did not like him, if I could hate
him, but I can't."

Isaac reached across and rested his hand on Trevor's.  "Poor old Trev.  I'm
sorry.  I was afraid something like this might happen.  You're number One
for me, always will be.  I wouldn't hurt you for anything in the world."

"I know that, Isaac.  I know how much I mean to you.  I know you love me.
I have no doubts on that score. I know you would not hurt me, but all that
just makes me feel worse.  The truth is I don't like me."

"But I do.  As much now as ever.  I'm glad you've told me.  What do you
want to do?  Put me across your knee and spank me?"

Trevor gave a slight smile.  "I think I want to be cuddled by you, and I
want to cry."

"Where?  Here?

"No where we have usually done most of our talking."

"We'll leave the washing up till the morning then."

They went upstairs.  They undressed and stood looking at each other.

"I love you, Trev."

"I know that, and I love you too."

"Do you want me to give up seeing Heinie, Trev?"

He barely thought for a moment before answering.  "No, Isaac, no.  I've got
to deal with myself."

They got into bed.  They cuddled and Trevor cried.  They talked.  Very
gently they made love, with Isaac sucking Trevor to his climax

The relationship between the two of them was never quite the same again.
They still talked and argued together.  They still frequently made love
together.  They both loved each other, but their relationship was slightly
different.


Footnote:- Sporting one's oak.  In many of the older colleges each
undergraduate had two rooms, a study and a bedroom.  When you stood outside
a man's rooms you would be confronted by a single door, usually of oak. It
it was shut the man was said to have sported his oak.  Immediately inside
this door you are confronted by two doors, often set at at an angle.  One
led into the bedroom, and the other into the study.  The outer door was
only shut [sported] when the undergraduate was away from his rooms, or when
he did not want to be interrupted, because he was sleeping, studying or
snogging.  Paul's outer door was shut - his oak was sported.  The fact that
Trevor knocked on that outer door, and got Paul out of bed, was a
considerable going against tradition and a presumption on friendship.