Pete's Story

Pete’s story: chapter 7

‘Are you staying for breakfast? We could have another shag after if you want.’

Pete smiled over at the muscle bound, reasonably attractive man he had allowed himself to be taken home with from the club the night before. Nice body, reasonable dick, good kisser, great stamina and strength, but no imagination and conversation was non-existent. Still, the night hadn’t been a total disaster. He had managed three orgasms and his arse knew it had been used. But he really didn’t want to stay for either breakfast or another shag as the quite pretty, but intellectually challenged stud standing naked in front of him so charmingly phrased it. Why do I put myself through this he thought?

‘Actually, I’ve got to get going. We’ve slept later than I’d planned.’ He glanced at his watch, 10:30. ‘I’m meeting friends for lunch at one so I need to get home to shower and change. Maybe we can hook up again sometime?’ He took a business card out of his wallet and held it out. ‘Here take this, it’s got all my contact details, you can leave a message at work if I’m not there. My home numbers on the back. What’s yours?’ Seeing a pen he picked it up and retrieving another card from his wallet began to write on it. ‘Okay, Tim, so your number is?’

There was a pause. A long, drawn out pause. The muscle stud said nothing. Pete looked up at him. He was holding his card out to him, ‘It’s Jim, and you can have your card back. I had a good time last night mate but a fucks a fuck. And that’s all you were. A fuck. Good one though.’ He smiled as he spoke, and Pete was embarrassed.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything. I had a really good time last night. I’m just not…’

‘Looking for a boyfriend. I know mate. I could tell last night. But that arse needed fucking, and I wanted to be the man to do it. No stress. I really don’t think we’d have much else in common anyway.’ Jim laughed, ‘Wouldn’t mind reaming your cunt again sometime though if I’m honest. Best shag I’ve had in a long time.’

Pete, joined in with Jim’s laughter. ‘Fuck it, I’ll be late for lunch. Come on, where’d you put the condoms?’

Eventually leaving Jim’s flat at just after twelve, Pete used Jim’s phone to let his friend Barry know he would probably be late for their lunch date. He did exchange home numbers with Jim and both knew that they would meet up again now that there were no expectations between them other than that they would have fun and a good fuck. The arrangement suited them both. Once at home, Pete jumped in the shower, shaved and then had to decide what to wear. Barry was a good friend he had known since his last year at university. He had been an old friend of Stuart’s, a sort of surrogate uncle to him. He had been the first person Stuart had come out too, and after the accident, when Pete’s world collapsed around him, it had been Barry who had looked after him and helped him recover enough to face life again. He loved him like a father. Like the father he never had. However, Barry was a terrible snob, and he liked everything to be done properly and ‘just so.’ Knowing how fussy he could be meant that a simple thing like a lunch engagement wasn’t so simple. Pete needed to dress very appropriately, taking into account not only the time of day and the venue, but also what type of person might also be lunching, as it was rarely just the two of them. Barry loved showing him off, especially to his circle of older, richer gentlemen who would and did pay excellent money for a night out with someone as young and attractive as Pete. It gave Barry great delight that he could flaunt his ‘adopted’ son in front of his friends, watching then getting hot and bothered as he openly flirted with Pete, as the young man politely rebuffed all advances and refused all offers of money, no matter how extravagant from the elderly queens paraded before him. He often berated Barry for his behaviour, but knowing the mischievous nature of his friend and that at his core was a heart of gold, he shrugged and went with the flow. Hence, what to wear. It had to be smart but at the same time, Barry liked him to look just a little bit ‘tarty’, as he liked to put it. ‘Well you’ve got it dear, so shove it down the old queens throats. Make ‘em choke a little.’ He decided on cream linen trousers that clung to his bum and packet, leaving very little to the imagination, along with a cotton and silk mix t-shirt that was low cut at the neck and not quite baggy nor tight, so that it showed off his well toned chest and pierced nipple along with the flat stomach he worked so hard to maintain. Finished off with an Italian linen tailored jacket in a dusky pink and hand made Italian light brown brogues, he knew he would cause a stir when he walked into the rather stuffy restaurant that Barry had deliberately chosen for their Sunday afternoon tease. At the last minute he picked up his favourite camel ribbon fedora, and skipped out to the waiting cab. He arrived at the old boys club that housed the restaurant just after one thirty. Not as late as he had expected to be, he was pleased to note. He gently rubbed the tender valley between his buttocks as he remembered the hard pounding Jim had given them that morning. Sighing contentedly, he walked into the foyer of the club and turned right into the restaurant.

As he entered the hallowed establishment, he felt all eyes swivel in his direction. It was a men only club, one of the remaining few. And if the truth were known, most of the members were closet queens, from an age when it was both illegal and socially unacceptable to be gay. To be as open and honest about ones sexuality as someone like Pete was, was something most of the men in the restaurant could only dream of. Seeing Barry waving to him from a table pretty much centre stage as it were, Pete smiled broadly and walked purposefully to him. Rising o meet him, Barry wrapped him in his arms and kissed him on both cheeks, ‘Peter my boy. You look positively ravishing. How are you my darling?’

Whispering in his ear Peter admonished,’ Alright you old fairy, don’t over do it,’ then standing back and taking Barry’s hands in his, ‘I’m well thank you Barry. How are you?’

‘Oh you know, struggling on as one does dear boy, struggling on. But look at you, you’re blooming. Have you been sowing your wild oats again? You have that satiated look about you that always make you look even more attractive than you usually are. I’m guessing you’ve just come from some glorious chaps embrace, and that’s why you’re late. I’m not wrong am I?’

As he sat, Pete was conscious that Barry was speaking just loud enough for most people in the restaurant to hear him, and that all other conversations had ceased. He was also very aware of the impish smile at the corner of Barry’s mouth and the naughty glint in his eyes. ‘You know me too well Barry. I never could keep secrets from you could I?’ Smiling, he kicked Barry’s shin under the table making the older man wince. Looking down at the table Pete noticed three place settings. ‘Is someone joining us today?’

‘Ah. Yes. I was hoping you’d be here on time so that I could speak to you before he got here.’ Barry looked a little uncomfortable. Pete sat still and quiet. It was no use trying to hurry Barry, he would get to the point in his own time. Pete had learned to be patient with him. ‘The thing is I need your help with something. A favour actually, and it’s all rather delicate and a little embarrassing. In fact, I think you’re going to be to be a tad annoyed at me.’

‘What have you done Barry?’

‘Well, it’s all in a good cause, and it raised an awful lot of money. And in my defence, I was drunk, and I was rather goaded into it. But there is absolutely no way I can get out of it now without being in terrible trouble. They’d blackball me d’you see? Oh god. I’ve sold you for half a million pounds.’

‘You’ve done what?’ Pete’s voice was remarkably controlled considering the news he’d just been given.

‘It’s only for one night.’

‘Oh, that’s all right then isn’t it? And what pray tell have you exactly sold of me for just one night?’ Pete was starting to get annoyed, and also a little concerned.

‘Dinner, the theatre, well opera actually, and then you have to spend the night with him. But you don’t have to sleep with him if you don’t want to. That’s up to you. I did specify that.’

‘Did you. Thank fucking god for that.’

Barry was obviously nervous, aware that he had placed Pete in an impossible situation. He wouldn’t want to humiliate his friend to whom he owed so much, but neither would he like the idea of being prostituted to an unknown man for the night like a common whore, albeit an expensive one. Pete stared at the older man opposite, tapping his finger on the table, saying nothing. After what seemed like a lifetime to Barry, he finally spoke. ‘When is it, and who is it?’

‘It’s next Saturday, and it’s Lord Toby Maidenhead. He owns half of Chelsea and most of Knightsbridge.’

‘Is that supposed to make me feel better? The fact that he’s fucking loaded?’

‘Well. No. I suppose not. I just . Well. He just does…… He’s a nice chap. Ex Etonian. Oxford. Served in the army for a while. Made Major. Lovely wife. Terribly good shot. Patron of the arts. Adores opera. Everybody likes him.’

‘Really? You make him sound like a bloody prospective parliamentary candidate not some rich git who’s bought my arse for the night. What the fuck got into you?’

‘Too many gin and tonics. And you really don’t have to give me your very nice arse if you don’t want to Peter so please relax and let’s have lunch.’ The voice behind him was deep and mellow. When he turned around to look at the man who now put his hand proprietorially on his shoulder he saw a handsome, middle aged face with eyes full of humour and a full, sensuous mouth smiling at him. His Lordship stood up and proffered his hand, ‘Toby.’

Pete stood, took hold of the outstretched hand, ‘Pete.’ Blue eyes looked firmly into brown. Hands held each other without either trying to dominate or intimidate. Both men took an immediate liking to each other. Pete saw determination, honesty and something about the man he could trust in the eyes and face of Lord Toby. Looking at the attractive man facing him, Toby saw a young man who had obviously been hurt by life but was fighting back. A strong character who would not be beaten, but who was tired and was still suffering. He knew some of Pete’s background from Barry and his experience as a leader in the army gave him great insight into the minds and sometimes the hearts of men. He felt an almost over powering urge to protect Pete, to show him that life need not be cruel. He was also surprised at how strongly he was physically attracted to him. At forty five years of age he thought he was passed the age when his penis did the thinking for him, but the moment his hand had come into contact with Pete’s shoulder he had had an erection, and it had only become more uncomfortable the longer their hands remained connected.

Neither man realised that they were just standing at the table, holding hands, looking at each other. Both had hard-ons. Pete’s was particularly noticeable given the style of trousers he was wearing, and other diners were beginning to comment on the behaviour of the two men. ‘Well,’ interrupted Barry, ‘shall we all sit and summon the waiter?’

Pete and Toby shared an embarrassed chuckle, released their grip on each other and sat down. They ordered lunch, and as they ate, chatted about life’s banalities. Once their meal was finished, Toby suggested that they retire to the private members lounge for coffee. Barry unfortunately had to excuse himself as he had another engagement, which left Toby and Pete, awkwardly looking at each other. Toby broke the silence, ‘Why do I get the feeling there is no other engagement and that we have just been set up?’

‘Mmm. That would be fairly par for the course with Barry. Subtle as a falling brick I’m afraid. Still on for coffee?’

‘Yes. Ahhh. Would it be terribly forward of me to ask if we could have it somewhere else?’

‘No. Where would you like to go? I can’t be late today as I have work tomorrow.’

‘Of course. It’s just that I always find this place rather dull and seedy somehow.’ He smiled.

Laughing, Pete agreed, ‘I know exactly what you mean. Gives me the willys!’

‘A lot of ‘em would like to I’m sure.’

‘Listen, it’s only about twenty minutes to my flat by cab. No funny business, just coffee. How that?’

‘That would be wonderful. Won’t need a cab though. My cars outside. Come on, you can tell me what you do for a living on the way.’

“My car” turned out to be a brand new, chauffeur driven Rolls Royce. Somehow, Pete wasn’t at all surprised. He gave his address to the driver and soon they were pulling up to his flat. Letting them in to the parking area, he wondered what the chauffeur would do whilst they were having coffee. ‘Oh don’t worry about Marvin, he’ll be fine. Won’t you Marvin?’

‘Yes your lordship. Don’t worry about me sir. You go and enjoy your coffee.’

In the elevator, Pete couldn’t contain a giggle, ‘He’s not really called Marvin is he?’

‘Afraid so. His mother loved Motown, especially Marvin Gaye. Hence the name. He was a damn good soldier let me tell you. Good fuck too.’

‘What?....’

Toby’s laughter was loud and hearty at Pete’s reaction to Marvin being a good fuck. They were both enjoying the moment and each other’s company as they entered Pete’s flat. ‘Well, this is where I live. Let me quickly show you around.’ Toby got a guided tour of the apartment that it was obvious the young man was so proud of. The more time he was spending with Pete, the more he was liking him. He was intelligent, funny, inquisitive, sexy, surprising. Everything he liked in his lovers. So, how did he get this one night, supposed sex free date, turned into a full blown affair? He had a feeling that it wasn’t going to be easy.

‘How do you take your coffee?’

‘Black. Two sugars.’

He stood at the breakfast bar and watched as Pete, now minus his jacket, sorted out his coffee machine, mugs, sugar and amaretti biscuits. He took note of the sinuous way the finely toned muscles moved under the shirt. How the pert, muscular buttocks clenched and flexed as Pete moved around the kitchen. He gasped when the evening sunlight streaming through the windows played against Pete’s lower back and thighs making his thin trousers transparent, highlighting the jockstrap he was wearing and the naked globes of his oh so fuckable arse. Pete looked round, ‘Are you okay?’ He was holding two mugs of coffee as he turned to face Toby. The sun now shone on Pete’s crotch and while his trousers were not as transparent as they were at the back, the style of jock he was wearing left little to the imagination. He followed Toby’s line of sight, ‘Oh. I see. I wore these trousers because I know the old buggers at the club dribble when they see me in them and Barry gets bragging rights. He loves it bless him.’

Toby grinned. ‘The old buggers aren’t the only ones dribbling young man.’

Handing over the coffee, Pete sat on one of the bar stools. He took a sip of his mug and then asked ‘You’re married aren’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Children?’

‘Two girls.’

‘And you were in the army?’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay. I have to ask this Toby. Are you gay?’

‘Mmm.’ Toby drank from his mug, ‘good coffee. Am I gay? I’ve asked myself that question many times and to be honest I don’t think I am. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy sex with men, I do. I would love to have sex with you, but I also have a wonderful sex life with my wife. So I then ask the question, am I bi sexual? Again, I don’t think I am. I honestly believe that I just enjoy sex. I always have and it really does not matter to me whether I am making love to a man or a woman. I don’t particularly enjoy a quick shag against the wall, although I have had my moments. I prefer and obtain great satisfaction from giving pleasure to my partner. From beginning to end of our love making my aim is to please whoever I am with. I don’t care if that’s a man or a woman. The only thing I have never done and will never do, simply because it has no appeal to me is allow anyone to fuck me.’

‘So you’re a thoughtful and caring top who’ll screw any hole as long as you fancy it?’ Pete tried to keep a straight face but failed. Bursting into laughter he took hold of Toby’s hand. ‘I’m sorry, I’m not taking the piss. I think that’s a great philosophy on life. Why can’t more people be like you?’

Raising Pete’s hand to his lips, Toby kissed it, ‘Do you have any idea just how sexy you are young man?’

Pete froze. Slowly pulling his hand from Toby’s he leaned back on the stool away from the older man. The action was instinctive, involuntary. He didn’t know he had done anything until he saw the hurt look on Toby’s face. Before he could speak to explain, Toby held his hand up in a gesture to silence him. Pete was surprised to see tears in the ex-soldiers eyes.

‘What ever the bastard did to you Pete I hope somebody made him pay.’

Fighting back his own tears, Pete slid from the stool, walked over to Toby and took his hands in his. ‘I had a friend, Jason. He caught him hitting me before he was about to fuck me again. Jason beat the crap out of him and carried me away. He saved me. I’ll always love him for that.’ He raised his hand to Toby’s face, stroked his cheek. ‘Stuart killed most of my demons, but he’s gone now.’ Tears were running down Pete’s face. Toby put his hands on his waist.

‘Barry told me a little. I know what happened to Stuart. The accident.’

‘It was eighteen months ago and I look for him every day. It’s like my life ended. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know….’

Toby gently pulled him into his embrace, one hand on the small of his back the other on the back of head. Pete felt himself mould onto, then into the bigger, stronger man, his head coming to rest on his shoulder. ‘Let me help you Pete. I won’t hurt you, and I won’t touch you unless and until you ask me to. Let me be your friend. Let me help you heal. Please.’

‘Why? Why do you want to help? You don’t me. I don’t understand.’

‘It happened to me Pete. When I was a boy I was raped, abused, used countless times by older boys and masters at private school. I was a very pretty boy, almost feminine looking. One day when I was twelve, a boy called Grant caught me being passed round by a group of older boys. Like your Jason, he rescued me, and then protected me for the next four years. When he left school I was sixteen and I’d toughened up, thanks to him. No one abused me again. I had other people I could talk to over the years, and I didn’t see the one I loved, the one who helped put my past behind me killed in front of me. But I can help you Pete, if you let me. I can listen, I can show you life can be fun and interesting again. I can love you. And I won’t ask for anything back other than friendship from one of the nicest most honest people I have ever met.’ He leaned back from Pete, put his hand under his chin and lifted his head so that he could see his face. Using his thumb, he wiped the tears away. ‘Can you let me in Pete? Can you trust me?’

Looking at this handsome, dignified almost stranger, Pete felt more calm than he had for a long time. He sensed a kindred spirit. Leaning forward, he kissed Toby’s forehead, then the tip of his nose, then gently, his lips. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered, ‘I could do with a friend.’

‘Come here.’ Toby pulled him into a tight hug, trying to give him as much reassurance as possible. As they pulled apart, he saw the fragile, frightened boy that still haunted the normally confident, sexy man. ‘Do you have to go to work tomorrow. Can’t you rearrange things?’

‘Maybe. I’ll call Andrew.’

‘Would you like me to call him? I really think you should have a shower and relax. I’m sure he’ll be ok if I phone him. I am a Lord after all.’ He was smiling at his own joke. It worked. Pete’s mouth turned up in a kind of grin.

‘Ok. It’s programmed in the phone. Number one. Tell him I’ll phone tomorrow.’ Pete walked off to his bedroom to shower.

Toby picked up the cordless phone, hit menu and dialled program1. It was answered after three rings by a man with a strong brummie accent.

‘Good evening. Is that Andrew?’

‘Ar, it is. I thought this was Pete.’

‘Yes, it’s Pete’s phone. I’m phoning on Pete’s behalf. I do hope you don’t mind. He wanted to phone you himself but I insisted he shower and go to bed. My name is Toby Maidenhead by the way, we haven’t met, I’m a friend of Pete’s.’

‘Toby Maidenhead as in Lord Toby Maidenhead?’

‘Yes. You’ve heard of me.’

‘Yes. I think most people have at one time or another haven’t they? Is Pete alright Toby?’

Toby noticed that Andrew didn’t worry about his title and went straight back to Pete, he warmed to him immediately. ‘Not really. Look Andrew, I may call you Andrew?’

‘Yes, yes of course Toby,’

‘Thank you. Look, I don’t know how much you know about his past, but Pete’s had it pretty bad at times.’

‘You can say that again. I wish I could get my hands on that cunt who messed with him. And as for his fucking Dad. Well. And then Stuart. Between you and me Toby I don’t how the poor lads not in a looney bin. You know what I mean don’t ya?’

‘Yes Andrew I do, and I fully agree with you. Well he got rather upset today and I think he could do with a few days off if you could spare him. If it’s going to cause trouble or leave you short I might have people who can help. We could talk tomorrow if that’s ok. I just think we should get him rested and back on track. What do you think? You probably know him better than me?’

‘No, no. I’ll go with whatever you think. The lad needs looking after. I think I can manage without him for a week if that’s what he needs. Tell him to take a week off, god knows he’s earned it, and I’ll look at things in the morning. I appreciate your offer of help though. Can I call you tomorrow?’

The two businessmen exchanged numbers and both hung up with an excellent impression of the other. Toby walked through to Pete’s bedroom to check that he was okay and to tell him about he conversation he had had with Andrew. He saw Pete’s discarded clothes on the bed, including the jockstrap that had so aroused him earlier. He sighed, ‘Oh well,’ he said to himself quietly, ‘maybe one day.’ He crossed to the door to the en-suite. He could see Pete in the shower. ‘Everything okay in there?’ Then laughing, and making sure Pete understood he was being light hearted, ‘Need a hand with anything?’

He heard Pete chuckle. ‘No. But thanks for asking.’ As he turned away, ‘hey, I don’t suppose Lords know how to make cups of tea do they?’

‘No. But soldiers do. How do like it?’

‘Milky, not stewed. Two sugars please.’

‘On its way.

Toby moved to the kitchen and got on with tea. He found all he needed easily. He was just pouring the milk in when Pete walked into the kitchen in lounge pants and a baggy t-shirt. His hair was still damp and he looked tired and ready to fall into bed. Toby picked up the mugs, flicked his head towards the lounge and told Pete to go and sit on the sofa. He placed the mugs on the low table then collected the cushions together from the chairs and sofa arranging them around Pete so he could lay back comfortably. He then went back into the bedroom and retrieved a blanket he had seen folded on a chair earlier. Opening it out he placed it over Pete’s legs. He then handed him his mug of tea. ‘How’s that? Comfy?’

‘Mmm. Yes thanks Dad.’ Pete laughingly answered.

‘Now that sort of reply young man could take us down a very slippery slope. Boy.’ Countered Toby with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Pete snuggled down in the cushions and looked up all doe eyed. ‘Sorry. I’ll be a good boy from now on. Promise.’

‘I’ll put you over my knee if you don’t behave, I’m warning you,’ Toby tried o be stern, wagging his finger at the supposedly contrite younger man.

‘Ohh. Promises, promises.’ Came the very camp reply.

The men held their laughter in for as long as they could before first Toby and the Pete started to giggle. After several minutes of restorative hilarity, much needed by both of them, Toby sat on the sofa next to Pete. His tone when he spoke was that of a serious grown up. ‘Now I want you to listen to what I have to say and then think about it before you respond. Okay?’ Pete nodded. ‘I have a few suggestions to make that I think will help you start to get over your depression, because I’m fairly sure that’s what your suffering from. I saw quite a lot of it in the Army, especially after Iraq, but there was enough of it about during the Irish troubles as well for it to be noticed and acknowledged. I have an old school friend, a doctor of psychology, who specialises in certain types of depression. I don’t know if you fall under his umbrella as it were, but if you don’t he will know someone who will, and I’d like you to agree o go and see them. Secondly, I think you need to go and speak to Stuart. I don’t know where he is buried, or where his ashes are scattered if he was cremated, but I would like to take you there so that you can talk o him and say good bye properly. You couldn’t go o the funeral as you were in hospital fighting for your own life, so I don’t think you’ve had closure yet.’ Pete started to cry at this point, realising for the first time that Toby was right. Toby found himself again with Pete’s head on his shoulder as he quietly cried for his lost love. As he felt Pete relax and recompose himself, Toby gently pushed back into the cushions on the sofa so that he could see him as he spoke. ‘Thirdly, I know we only met today, but I would like you to allow me to take a little bit of control of your life for you for a while. For example, this week, I would like you to spend every day and night with me, not only so that I can keep an eye on you but so that you can learn to trust me and see that I do not have any agenda other than to help you get better. As I explained earlier, I also want to reintroduce you to life as it should be for a young man your age. I do not want you to be afraid and sad as I was for so long. So whilst I leave you think about all that, I am going to go downstairs to speak to Marvin. Take out Pizza okay for dinner tonight?’

‘Er, yes. That’s fine. Thanks.’

‘I’ll send him for Pizza Hut. I like pepperoni thin base, extra cheese. What do you fancy?’

‘Mmm, thin base meat feast. Please.’

‘Do you have beer in the house?’

‘Should be some in the cupboard by the fridge with red wine, and white wine in the fridge.’

Toby took the stairs to the car parking area, always preferring to exercise when possible. Marvin was happily polishing the chrome work on the Rolls. He looked up as his employer approached. ‘Is the kid alright boss? Seemed a bit on edge if you ask me.’

‘No Marvin, he’s not in a great place. Reminds me a lot of those kids who came back traumatised after seeing their mates blown to bits. I’m going to stay and look after him. Would you run a few errands for me please and then get off home and come back tomorrow about eleven. We’re at my tailors at one. Most importantly, this is the phone number here. Get it to George and tell him to make sure everyone who needs me for anything over the next week goes through him. He gives that number to no one, understand? No one. Except Elizabeth. Tell him to ring her this evening and ask her to phone me tonight. About eight o’clock. I’ll tell her the whole story then. Next, pick me up some PJs for tonight and something for tomorrow. Something casual. If your not sure ask George. Bring them back here. On the way back pick up a couple of pizzas from the Hut. I’ve written down what we want. This is the code for the parking gate to get back in. Buzz when you get back and I’ll come down. Okay?’

‘Got it boss. See you in about an hour and a half I’d guess.’