Date: Sat, 14 Mar 2009 12:11:16 +0000
From: Jeffrey Fletcher <jeffyrks@hotmail.com>
Subject: Jonathan 18

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

Thank you to those who have commented on my stories.  If you want to
comment on the story then do contact me on Jeffyrks@hotmail.com.  I aim to
reply to all message.


Jonathan 18 February 17- 25.

On the Tuesday morning Jonathan made his now customary late appearance
for some breakfast. "I've been thinking, Gramps"

Malcolm handed Jonathan a cup of coffee. "Good! A penny for them,
then!"

"Dad wants me to take legal action against Bill. I'm not so sure."

"What are the pros and cons?  Bill was certainly greatly in the wrong
keeping you in that bloody cell, and in making you work for him in that
way. You weren't a free agent."

"I am thinking that the arguments for taking legal action are
something like this. What happened was, as you say, very wrong.
Unlawful imprisonment, something like that. I think I'd get a fair
amount of compensation, damages for what happened, if I won."

"If you won, any chance of you not winning?"

"I think there is. I think Bill is sweating at the moment. He
knows something of my background. I was not like many of the Boys, a
back street kid who's run away from home. He knows I'm educated, he
said that made me good on the job. That means I come from a well-
heeled background. If I'm back in touch with my folks they'll be
pressing for legal action against him. I reckon he dreads the post
each morning, and even more a police raid on his club.

"But I think he has got some of his patrons lined up. If he's
exposed, then they are all in danger of being exposed. The tabloids
would love some of the names that would come out. I think Bill has
told those top police officer punters what has happened. They will be
keeping their ears open for any news of a police raid. He has legal
punters. I would be up against a powerful section of the
establishment. There are even one or two top journalists.

"You may not like what I'm going to say now, Gramps. But the punters,
on the whole, were not a bad lot of men. Many were generous, many
were really just wanting some sexual affection. Some of them I really
quite liked. Old Roger, who came about once a week. In his
eighties, unable to get it up, so just came to give a superb blow
job." Jonathan realised that perhaps he should not be speaking in
that way to his grandfather. "Sorry, Gramps, that slipped out."

Malcolm smiled. "Don't worry. Speak freely. I'll ask you to explain
if you use technical jargon I don't understand."

Jonathan laughed. "Old Roger, as we all called him, was a lovely old
man. A real old English gentleman. But there's something else. There
are the Boys. What would happen if Bill's Place was forced to close
down? Many of them would just be out on the street. Rent boys around
Piccadilly? Chink was a good friend, a real help to me. I don't
know that I'd have got through without him. Then there's Andy. They'
re my friends. Where they are they're well looked after, well fed,
medically examined every week. Can I pull the rug from under their
feet?"

"I see your point. But Bill owes you quite a lot of money, to say
the least."

"I know. I'm thinking about that. But I am not going to do anything
for at least another week. I'm going to let Bill sweat. Also if I
take legal action it may well be several years going through all the
legal processes. I don't know that I want that. I want to get on with
my life."

"Good. Keeping on thinking."

They talked on, going over things several times. Then Simon came
round and the three of them went off for a round of golf, and lunch at
the clubhouse.

Jonathan found the two older men interesting. When they were
together, and especially when playing golf, there was a lot of
friendly badinage. They were both full of friendly, and often
contradictory, advice for Simon who was still very much a novice at
the game.

***

They both went up to bed the same time that Tuesday evening.
Jonathan got into bed, and, turning out his light,  was soon asleep.

It was different for Malcolm. The bed-going ritual took longer,
from seeing all the doors were locked, the alarm set for downstairs,
and the bathroom events. When he got into bed, Jonathan in the next
room was already fast asleep. Malcolm always read for at least half an
hour, before his eyes grew heavy and he put the book down  and he turned off  the light. He was just beginning to drop off to sleep  when there was a
knock on his door.

"Come in."

A wild eyed Jonathan appeared at the door dressed in his dressing
gown. "Can I sleep with you, Gramps. I've had one of those
nightmares. It must have been talking about my time in Bill's cell
earlier in the day."

Malcolm sat up in bed.

"As you know Chink always slept with me. He calmed me down when I had
a nightmare. May I, Gramps?"

"I'm not wearing any pyjamas!"

"So what? I don't now. I have seen quite a number of men of your age
with nothing on."

"But what if I get a hard on."

"I'll say, `Well done' and leave you to deal with it as you wish,
bash the bishop in the bathroom; or if you must, wank your willie
alongside me."

"Jonathan, what would your mother and father say at that language?"

"Mum wouldn't understand it, and Dad'd explode."

Malcolm laughed.

"Chink and I only rarely did anything sexual together, and that was
usually at the farm. I don't want sex, Gramps."

"I'm glad to hear it," said Malcolm quickly.

"I just want someone alongside me in bed."


"Alright then. But not a word to anyone about this."

"Of course, not."

Jonathan slipped off his dressing gown, and got into bed alongside
his grandfather. Malcolm had a glimpse of a body that was just like
his own fifty years before.

Jonathan turned on his side, with his back to Malcolm, and was very
soon fast asleep. Malcolm lay on his back for a long while pondering
this turn of events. He was fearful that either of them might wake up
with a hard on pressing into the other. The last thing he wanted was
for something sexual to happen between him and his grandson. If
something did, the whole nature of the relationship would change, and
not for the better. Eventually he turned his back to his grandson and
went off to sleep.

***

Malcolm, ever the early riser, awoke at 5.30. The house was cold and
silent, but pressed against his back was the warm body of Jonathan
whose arm lay across him. Malcolm enjoyed the feeling, but was fearful
of possible outcomes of the situation. Very carefully he moved
Jonathan's arm and slipped out of bed. He felt his way to where his
dressing gown lay, and made his way silently from the room. He went
to the bathroom, and then downstairs for his early morning cup of
tea. The central heating had come on half an hour before so there was
some warmth in the kitchen.

He thought over what had happened during the night. When he had
drunk his cup of tea, he continued with his early morning ritual, and
risked turning on the light in his bedroom so he could get to his
clothes. Jonathan stirred and then snuggled down into the bed to
continue with his sleep.

It was nearly 9.30 when Jonathan put in a bleary eyed appearance.
"Morning Gramps. Thanks for last night. I had my best night's
sleep. I hope you did too."

"Once I got off to sleep I was fine. Get your own breakfast there are
some jobs I need to do."

"Gramps, I've been thinking.

"No wonder you need so much sleep -  all the brain power you use!"

Jonathan replied by sticking out his tongue. "At school someone said
something to us about setting attainable targets. It is very easy to
set unattainable ones, and we get depressed, or guilty if we don't
reach them. We should set ourselves targets that involve effort and
resolution, but are not doomed to failure."

"I'm with you. Glad that they taught you something worth while at
that school of yours."

"It was yours as well, Gramps."

"But its gone to the dogs since, what with having girls around! But
what are your pearls of wisdom this morning?"

"It's about sex. It goes without saying I've had more than enough sex
over the last few months. I would like the next person I have sex with
to be someone I want to share my life with. But when I start
thinking about that I need to be realistic. Knowing me, I think that
would be an unattainable target."

"You're a healthy young male, Jon, with a powerful sex drive."

"Can I use blunt language?"

Malcolm nodded.

"I want the next person I fuck or who fucks me to be that person."

"A real giving of yourself?"

"Yes. But there are other enjoyable things. I think it might be
impossible to stop from kissing and cuddling with a sexy guy if one
came along, and tossing him off."

Malcolm nodded again, rather surprised that he should be holding such
a conversation with his own grandson. "What about blowjobs, Jon?"

Jonathan was now surprised at the ease with which his grandfather
spoke of such things.

"I am not sure whether that should also be in the "wait until" category
or not. What do you think?"

"I'm not an expert in such ethical matters. It is you making the
resolutions, knowing yourself, not me."

They continued to discuss this for some time, but in the end Jonathan
came to no conclusion over blowjobs.

***

That evening they went up to bed together. For Malcolm this posed a
problem. How should he conduct himself in the presence of Jonathan?
When he was alone Malcolm had no inhibitions about wandering around his
own bedroom and going to the bathroom in the nude; but under the eyes
of his still teenage grandson he felt reticent.

Jonathan detected Malcolm's hesitations. "Don't worry about appearing
in the nuddy in front of me. I've seen a number of men of your age and
older in the all together." He paused. "Seeing you may give me some
idea of how I'll look, if I manage to keep as fit as you."

"I'm no oil painting. Might do for some degenerate Bacchus in some
artist's painting."

"Come off it, Gramps. Surely a degenerate Bacchus would have a great
pendulous paunch covering his endowments," laughed Jonathan.

"I have a small bay window," said Malcolm patting his stomach, "Though
I'm making sure it never becomes a conservatory!"

"I think you're in excellent nick, Gramps."

"Thanks."

Jonathan was now completing the last stages of getting undressed. He
had no inhibitions, he was used to being naked in front of men, even
if not his grandfather. There was just a slight flaunting of himself
as he lowered his pants to reveal all.

"I think you are very much like me, as I was fifty years ago."

They got into bed.

They both lay on their backs, side by side.

"Gramps?"

"Yes, Jon."

"Can I ask you a very personal question?"

Malcolm hesitated, rather dreading what might be coming. "Yes, you
may."

"Gramps, have you ever done anything, you know sexual, with another
male?"

Malcolm hesitated. This was what he had feared. He, like all the
family, believed in being honest; certainly as honest as possible.

Jonathan picked up the hesitation, and turned to look at his
grandfather.

"Yes, Jon."

"When you were young, still at school?"

"No, it was after I had left school. I was working in the shop. My
Dad was still alive then, we just had the one shop then in Luton. A
young man came in, Ben, just two or three years older than me. He
was pretty helpless when it came to anything practical. I gave him
advice, and helped him put up some shelves for his landlady. He also
played cricket. Then one day we were cycling back from Whitgest when
we got caught in a heavy shower. We sheltered in a copse under his
cycle cape. You've probably passed that copse many times going to and
fro between here and Luton. And one thing led to another."

"Did you do things with him again?"

"Yes, quite a lot. Then he moved north and the friendship faded."

"Thanks, for telling me. That explains a lot. Why you were so
understanding of uncle Kev, and of me. You've been totally non-
judgmental."

Malcolm began to relax, thinking the danger had passed.

"I suppose you gave it all up when you married Gran?"

Again Malcolm was caught on the honesty and openness dilemma. "I did
for a while!"

"A while?" Jonathan turned onto his side to face his grandfather.

"We had your father, Stephen and Kevin in fairly quick succession.
After Kev's birth Jan decided there should be no more. Kev was a bit
of an accident, though don't you ever let that out. Jan became very
reluctant about sex. It became increasingly less frequent. I loved
Jan, loved her to the end. There was no way I wanted to be unfaithful
to her with another woman. But I was a normal young man. I'd enjoyed
my times with Ben, so I began to find my sexual outlets with men. I
think it helped keep me in my marriage. Does that surprise you?"

"Yes. I suppose I'm like all younger people and find it difficult to
imagine your parents having sex, let alone your grandparents. You
know it must have happened, but their cocks and balls doing the
necessary with great enjoyment, is difficult to picture."

"I know," answered Malcolm with a laugh.

"How long did this go on for?"

Malcolm was even longer before answering. "Jon, you seem to be in
danger of forgetting your own recent experiences."

Jonathan took several seconds to work out the implications of that
remark. He sat up in bed, and looked down on his grandfather. "You
still?"

Malcolm replied with a small nod of his head and slightly sheepish
grin.

Jonathan looked his grandfather in the eye. There was a very long
pause. "Simon?"

Malcolm nodded. Jonathan roared with laughter and bounced up and
down in bed. "Wonderful, wonderful. Gramps, if I loved you before,
I love you even more." Suddenly a very serious look came into his
face. "I suppose that my being here has created difficulties for the
two of you."

"You can say that again. Simon came round here the other morning
expecting and hoping to go upstairs for some fun time."

"Gramps, I am so sorry. Why didn't you say?"

"Come off it, lad. What could I have said?"

"Tomorrow morning you're to ring Simon, and if he is free, tell him I'm going into Hitchin for the morning and will not be back until the
afternoon."

"Can we go to sleep now that I've made a full confession?"

Jonathan laughed, and got back down into the bed. Malcolm turned
over onto his side with his back to his grandson. Jonathan spooned up
behind his grandfather and put an arm across him. "Thanks for being
open. That will be a hundred percent secret."

"Kev knows about it," murmured Malcolm.

They settled down for sleep, but every so often there was a soft
chuckle from Jonathan.

***

The next evening the same undressing procedure took place, but with
much less shyness on both sides.

"Let me have a proper look at you, Gramps. All round."

Malcolm turned round slowly.

"You are in good trim."

"Few unwanted creases around, especially down here." Malcolm patted
his slightly sagging bum.

"I've seen far worse in guys twenty years younger than you."

"Now let me see you properly while we are having everything on
display."

Jonathan slowly turned round.

"You are a very sexy looking young man. Very, very nice. To think
that I once looked as good as that."

"You're not the first to say that I'm sexy," said Jonathan with a note
of pride in his voice.

"I meant to ask you; did you have a good time with Simon earlier
today?"

"Yes, very good. I told him that you now knew."

"What did he say? Can he be trusted?"

"He thinks you're sexy too, and would like to go to bed with you."

Jonathan's eyes lit up. "What did you say?"

"No!"

"Spoil sport!"

They stood for a moment side by side in from of a full length mirror.
Jonathan put an arm round Malcolm. "I bet Bill'd like a pic of us
like this for his club."

"No way."

They got into bed, and soon both of them were asleep.
***

In the early hours of the morning Jonathan suddenly sat up in bed, and
called out, "No! No! I'm not going back in there."

Malcolm was immediately awake and quickly realised Jonathan was having
one of his nightmares. The room was almost in complete darkness but
there was sufficient light for him to see that Jonathan was sitting
up. He reached up and stroked his grandson's back. "That's all
right, Jon. No one is going to put you back in that cell."

Jonathan started trembling all over, and Malcolm sat up and put his
arm round him. Slowly the trembling lessened.

"Thanks, Gramps. That was a bad one."

They continued sitting up in the bed, getting steadily colder.

Eventually Jonathan snuggled back down into the bed. "Let's get back
to sleep." He turned onto his side with his back to Malcolm.

Malcolm turned towards Jonathan and snuggled up close to him, but
carefully kept his crotch away.

The almost-sleeping Jonathan was having none of that. He wriggled his
bottom until it was spooning his grandfather's crotch, and almost
immediately he was asleep. Malcolm enjoyed what was happening but it
did not help him go back to sleep.

***

Jeffrey Fletcher at jeffyrks@hotmail.com