© Susan England.August 2004 This may not be copied to or published at any other site without the express permission of the author at the link below
I am greatly indebted to Mandymarie, a Literotica Editor, for her professionalism in helping me overcome a writing problem.
Comments and criticism to the author, Susan England at the link below would be most welcome.
I was challenged to write a Male/male story instead of my more usual female oriented stories. This is my attempt and I stress that it is simply a story. There is no basis in fact and the characters are fictitious.All characters are of course of an age to comply with the requirements of Literotica.
What is true is that my grandfather was born in 1900 and was too young for WW1 and too old for WW2. The setting for this first attempt by me to write a gay story is true – Grandpa was an Air Raid Warden, there were Social Clubs for working men. The ‘Blue Lagoon' really did exist. He has talked of it and laughed about it many times. The dress code for boys was as I have described and there were elasticated ‘snake head' belts for the boys.
My husband says my story is too feminine and romantic in its descriptions and I must "try harder." Oh dear, ‘bottom' of the class again!! If you find it so then I apologise. Feedback would be very helpful.
Preface
I am bi-sexual, although my family doesn't know of it.
I was born in 1932 and recently celebrated my 72nd birthday. I am very happily married. My wife of 49 years standing is my best friend as well as a woman I have loved since we first met. We have had four children, 2 boys and two girls (who don't come into this tale), but I have had occasional interests with both males and females over the years.
My earliest experience was with a mature man. I very much enjoyed it, but thanks to the intervention of an understanding female it failed to lock me in a world of homosexual loving. Because of her I was able to experience and enjoy heterosexual love and sex, and I've I decided to set down how this came about. I have tried to tell the story with the innocence of wording and expression that I had at the time
Chapter One – Uncle Reg makes a friend.
In England back then immediately after the war it was safe for youngsters to be out late. Looking back I never remember hearing that children had been abducted, or raped or murdered as they are today. I was never warned, as parents must warn today, that there were evil men who would harm us, and that we must be suspicious of anyone we didn't know, that we must not talk to strangers, that under no circumstances were we to go with them, anywhere, at any time, day or evening.
I now know that men who got pleasure from a sexual relationship with a young person were careful to be friendly, especially to be friendly with parents. They were gentle. They knew that if they made certain cautious advances they would be rejected by most, but the advance wasn't such that it could be interpreted as 'abuse' in today's sense. With the right response from the youngster, they knew that they could slowly take the relationship further until they had a willing, perhaps enthusiastic, partner.
Dad was a blue-collar worker for a large public utility company. The firm provided many benefits access to libraries, sports grounds, athletic tracks and not least, a clubhouse for employees. The club had in addition to a bar, dartboards, card tables, table-top skittles and such like. In a separate room were two snooker/billiards tables. In the days after the war and before TV, this was an important social centre, and there were many teams, male and female, which competed in various sporting leagues.
My name is Edward – Teddy – and at that time I was small for my age, only 5' 3"tall. My hair was brown and cut ‘short back and sides' in the style of the time and my eyes were blue. I was slim and to my embarrassment, had what were called delicate features. Women would call me a ‘lovely boy to look at' and some would say ‘isn't he pretty?'
I had an older brother, Fred, aged 22 who was in the Navy and an older sister Margaret aged 20. Our home was in a terrace of working class houses and had three bedrooms, identical to all the rest of the houses on the neighbouring streets. There was no bathroom; a zinc bath was put in front of the fire during cold weather and was laboriously filled and laboriously emptied. The lavatory was outside – not a favourite place to visit in winter!
In those days there were no jeans or casual clothes of that kind. Boys always wore short, loose waisted grey trousers, buttoned at the fly and held up by an elasticized belt, fastened with an ‘S' shaped clip in the image of a snake.
For my age I know that, compared with the youth of today, I was very naïve, very non-streetwise. I was now ‘a young man' and was allowed long trousers, but in summer (the time of my tale) I wore baggy legged shorts for comfort in the heat.
Girls always wore dresses or a skirt and blouse. Older girls who worked in the factories because the men were at war were allowed to wear long trousers. Boy's underpants had baggy legs and a girl had elastic around the legs to keep her private places firmly hidden from view!
We lived close enough to the club for it to be an easy walk and as Dad was a member of several teams (he particularly enjoyed cards and snooker) we would go there frequently. Fridays and Saturdays were the regular evenings and my Mum would sit with her friends (there was a 'ladies corner') and have a good chat. Dad would sit with his mates and play cards or dominoes, and of course snooker.
Friday was usually fairly quiet I remember, and I would watch the men and try to understand their play. One of them was named Reg, a friend of my Dad's. He was so much a friend that I called him ‘Uncle Reg.' Family relationships and respect for older people demanded a proper form of address
.
Reg was single and lived with his sister, also single, in a street quite close to ours. As we walked to the club he would come out and walk with us, and was always very pleasant and would buy the first drink when we arrived. He always got me a large soft drink, and whenever he saw it empty, he would buy me another.
He was kind in other ways. He would sit patiently and coach me in some of the domino and card games, and I thought of him as an adult that I liked and who treated me pretty well.
Drinking so much soft drinks made me continually need to pee and often Reg would go at the same time.
The ladies had indoor 'facilities', but males had to go outside and along an unlit gravel path to a slate topped urinal. This consisted of a trough in the floor, and one peed against a tar-coated wall. There were also three lavatory stalls. It was quite roomy to allow for the times that the place was crowded, but it was lit only with a dim blue bulb that was a hangover from the war years. No one had bothered changing it for any brighter light. I think the men might have objected anyway, because the blue dimness gave a uniqueness compared with other clubs. It was a masculine joke. It was known throughout the sports leagues. No other could compare with theirs.
The bluelightilluminated urinal was known familiarly as 'the Blue Lagoon.'
As we left the rear of the club and crunched over the gravel path, Reg had started to put his arm around my shoulders and I accepted this as natural.
When wearing my shorts I never undid the flies of my trousers. To pee I simply pulled up the baggy short leg and pulled myself out of my equally baggy underpants. If I wanted them down, I unclipped the snake belt and pulled the loose trousers down over my narrow hips. Providing there were no other men in the urinal Reg would normally stand right next to me. He would very deliberately unfasten the buttons of his fly, pull apart his trousers and take out his cock. With a little more fumbling, he pulled out his ball sac and stood, turned slightly towards me, his fingers moving softly on his manhood.
