Losing Tim
by Nigel Gordon
Chapter 5
Black Country 1962
A couple of hours later found me sitting on Ethelfreda's Terrace. A small garden area in front of the church atop the hill. I sat there thinking about what had happened and feeling guilty about it, as if it was my fault.
A man came and sat on the bench next to me. Smartly dressing in a dark grey suit, an autumn rosebud in his buttonhole.
"So, you didn't go home or get the ice cream." I looked up and saw it was the gardener, fumbling in my pocket I found the sixpence and held it out to him.
"Keep it, looks like you have problems, want to talk about them?" I nodded. "Well, I live down there. Missus is on late shift so not home till ten, so how bout you come down and tell me what you need to say." We walked off down one of the side roads from Church Hill, into a maze of Victorian workmen cottages, mostly two up two downs, built a hundred years before for foremen and clerical staff at the local ironworks and pits. Each had its own yard with a privy and coal shed out back. He took me down the gully between two houses and let me into the house by the back door. These houses were Wednesbury's slums, with no indoor sanitation; soon they would be condemned and demolished, inside though it was clean, tidy and spotless.
In the kitchen come parlour a table and two chairs stood against the wall. By the fireplace, an ancient coal-burning range was an old worn armchair with thick round arms. In the grate, dampened down, a coal fire smouldered. Using a pair of highly polished coal tongues the gardener took a couple of lumps of coal from the brass scuttle and placed them carefully on the fire, he opened the dampener. The smouldering coals leapt into flame. The gardener filled a soot-blackened kettle from the single tap over the stone sink and placed it on a trivet that he swung over the fire. He sat down in the armchair and patted arm for me to sit on it. Placing his arm round me he drew me in against him, his hand resting on my upper thigh.
We began to talk. I told him how I felt and how I liked it with boys and with men, like when I did it with him, how it felt good and fun but how it had all felt wrong with Mike in the shed. The kettle boiled and tea was made. We drank it from heavy pot cups, my arm now round his neck, his hand slowly stroking me. For over an hour we talked, it was a good job I had arranged to be out late that day. Finally, he told me that if I needed to talk to come and see him. His wife worked the late shift and never was home till ten. He always finished at four.
I left feeling better, comforted by this man. He could have had me, and I would have given myself willingly, yet he had demanded nothing but had given his time and effort of generosity to a boy he hardly knew.
In the years that were to come, I was to visit him often. At first in the slum house, later in the new maisonette that he and his wife moved into. In all that time only on three occasions did we end up having sex and even then, I pressed it onto him.
It was on the Thursday that Chris phoned me to arrange to meet on the Saturday. We were to go swimming and I suggested that we go on to the fair, which was in town. Chris could not make the fair on the Saturday as he had a family do on but suggested we went on Friday night. I was a bit disappointed as I had been hoping Chris would come and stay with me over the weekend, my parents were going away again.
We met by the clock tower the following day. Chris had a large bruise on his forehead, now fading but still yellow. I asked him about it, and he explained he had had trouble with Mike. In response, I told him I had as well, then got pressed into telling the whole story. Christ got furious about the fact that Mike was in the Shed with the twins and stated that Steve had told Mike to leave the twins alone.
This raised the question who was Steve? I had heard the doctor mention, Steve, when he came to look after Chris. For a moment Chris hesitated then told me that Steve ran the place where he and the twins lived, also that Mike lived there as well. This confirmed what I already suspected, that Chris did not live at home. Unfortunately, it did not tell me where he did live.
There was a light drizzle by the time we got down to the fairground but that did not dampen my enthusiasm for things. I have always loved fairs, not so much the rides, it is the sideshows and stalls that fascinate me. It went along with my love of the circus.
We went on the dodgems and a couple of rides then walked around the stalls. On the shooting range, I won a couple of prizes. Chris was complaining that the sights on the guns were fixed. He missed nearly all of the time. I explained to him that the air gun sights were set for the normal range of about twenty feet for a gun of that type, not the six to eight feet we were shooting over. As a result, you had to sight along the barrel, not along the sights. He tried again and did better but not as well as I did, but then I always have had a natural gift for shooting, though not the opportunity to use it.
After the shooting we went down towards the big wheel, Chris wanted to go on it, though I was not too keen not liking heights. We were nearly there when a family coming around from the other direction almost collided with us. Somebody called Chris's name, he looked up from the candy floss we had been sharing.
"Uncle Jim!" he exclaimed. A large, red-headed man, with a florid complexion, stood looking at us. With him was a small mousy woman and three boys aged between seven and eleven. Chris went up to the man and gave him a hug, then stepped back and asked, "is she here?"
"Na lad, she won't come near this part of the country, if she did, I'd give that sister of mine a piece of my mind, with this." He raised his fist in the air. Chris looked up at his uncle and smiled. "Anyway, who's your friend? Have you been here so long you've spent out or just did not have much to start with, sharing a candy floss?"
There then followed a conversation during which I was introduced. Chris explained we had not been there long but that he was skint, and I did not get much money. It turned out that apparently, Mike had taken Chris's money off him, hence the bruise. Uncle Jim commented that something should be done about that Mike and that it would be soon. He then gave Chris and me a ten bob note and looked at me and smiled.
"Bringing your friend tomorrow?" he asked Chris, who for a moment seemed flustered.
"Might do," he responded uncommitted. The family walked off.
"Wat that about? I asked.
"Tell you in the morning," was the answer I got.
We had a couple of rides on the big wheel, which was Chris's favourite, though I was not too keen, then got a hot dog each. The light drizzle of earlier turned into real rain and we parted. Chris catching the bus to go to work, I plodded off home getting very wet. As my parents were away, we had agreed that Chris would call round in the morning.
I called in to see the gardener on the way home. Mostly to get out of the rain. He took me through to the front room, the wall of which was lined with books that were clearly read. On the mantelpiece over the fireplace were photos of two young men. Some as boys, other later with them in uniform. I stood looking at them.
"Me boys," he commented, then pointed to one. "Went down in a bomber over Berlin, then the other, a bomb got him in Brum." That was all he ever said about them, but I sensed in those words a pride in his sons that my father never had in me.
I mentioned that I had been asked if I would like to go to the party at Chris's grandfather's the next day. When I said that he looked at me a bit oddly. As if he was thinking about how to say something.
"You be careful there me lad, they be an odd lot," he stated.
"Oh, they're bad, are they?" I responded.
"I wouldn't say, bad lad, just different. They're one of the old families and have their own way of doing things. We know about it, but it's not talked about, if you know what I mean."
I did not know what he meant but had a feeling it probably was not good to follow up with more questions.
I left the gardener's a bit before ten so it must have been about ten or a bit after that I got home. It was still raining, and I was drenched, so I stripped off and dried myself off in front of the gas fire in the lounge, throwing my drenched clothes into the laundry basket, then went to bed. In the new house, I had a larger room with a double bed. Since that four days back in the summer I had taken to sleeping in the nude when my parents were not at home, so I slipped naked into bed.
I was woken shortly after seven by a knocking at the front door. Going down I saw through the stairs window that the doctor's car was outside and there was the shadow of two figures on the door glass. Opening it I found Chris and Terry on the doorstep. I let them in. Terry started to explain that they had got stuck in Dudley and, but Chris interrupted.
"Look Pete, we're tired and hungry, got any grub and can we kip with you for a couple of hours", then looking at me added, "Terry can use the sofa."
I heated up some stew for them with some chunks of bread on the side. Terry did not use the sofa. He joined Chris and me in bed. They both fell quickly asleep leaving me a bit frustrated. Though they made up for that when they woke up shortly before noon. Neither of the boys wanted to go swimming, so they lay in bed whilst I organized some lunch. That consisted of cold bacon and egg pie and chips. Then after that was consumed, naked round the kitchen table with the blind down, we licked splashed tomato sauce off each other's bodies and retired to my bed to lick each other more.
After some games and a bit more sleep, Chris explained their arrival on the doorstep so early. They had been over in Stourbridge working, the lift they were supposed to get home did not turn up, so they had to make their own way back. They had got as far as Dudley on the late bus but that was it. Eventually in despair and stuck in the rain, they had phoned the doctor who went out and picked them up, later to drop them off at my house. I did not ask where they had been in between.
Terry said he had to get going but would see Chris that night. Then he dressed. Just before he left, he looked at me, then at Chris and nodded. I asked Chris what that was about.
"You know my Uncle Jack," I shook my head, I had only met one of Brian's uncles and that was Jim at the fair the night before.
"You do, he runs the bread stall in the mini-market." Now I recalled, a big man who always seemed to have something special for Chris when we went to buy cakes.
"That's your Uncle!"
"Well more of a cousin really. My Aunt Amy's son, she got in the club when she was twelve, so grandma and granda brought him up as their own. Uncle Jim is only a few years older, so they grew up as brothers."
"Sounds a bit of a mess," I commented, Chris, nodded.
"It is. Sometimes I'm not certain who is whose son or daughter! Anyway, it is Jack's thirtieth birthday today and Jim is putting on a special party for him."
"How special?" I asked.
"Very, only boys and men and we will be playing games."
"With your Uncle!"
"Yea, he's good, he taught me," there was pride in Chris's voice and a touch of envy in me. "It's our way for the men to teach the boys."
"Terry's going?"
"Yea, he's my cousin." I looked at Chris questioningly, so he continued, "he's aunt Amy's son. So really, he is Jack's brother, or at least half-brother. Of course, they did not grow up together."
"Sounds complicated," I commented.
"It can be, but you get used to it."
"And all the boys in your family play our games?"
"Yea, granddad, Jack or Jim teach them." I looked at Chris astonished and more than envious, his relatives taught him about sex, that was more than mine did, most of the time they just ignored me.
"So, all the boys and men there will be your relatives?"
"Not all, some will be friends, that's why Uncle Jim asked if I was taking you." He paused for a moment then asked, "do you want to come? You might have to do it with anyone."
"Including you?"
"Yes, especially me."
"I'll come."
"I'm sure you will." Chris smiled, put his arm round my shoulder and kissed me. "Better get ready then."
With the move to the new house, we had a shower installed over the bath. So, we were able to shower together rather than having to bathe. The two of us stood in the bath under the spray of water soaping each other down. I gently washed Chris's cock then knelt to take in in my mouth.
"Naw, save it till later, we'll need all we've got," he said pushing me gently away. I smiled at him.
"Promise?"
After we had showered and dried ourselves off, we went back to my room to dress. I opened my underwear draw and pulled out a pair of pants. Chris looked at me and shook his head.
"Best not. If you're not wearing anything underneath, they can feel you up better. That's how they like it." With that, he pulled his jeans on over his naked body. I followed suit.
It was only late afternoon, so we decided to go and see the early show at the cinema. Missed the B picture but was in time for the main feature, then had fish and chips in the fish and chip restaurant opposite, before getting the bus to Friar Park.
I was a bit wary of going down there. It was in those days what would be called nowadays a sink estate, straddling the border of three towns, all of whom dumped their housing refuse into it. The area had a reputation for crime and violence. So much so it was said that the bargemen would only use the canal that ran through the area when they could travel in convoy. This was the first time I had ever actually been on the estate. In the future, I would get to know it well and learnt that although there was violence and crime in the area there was also a very strong sense of community that looked after its own.
It was about eight-thirty that we got to the house where we were going. It looked to be in total darkness. Chris led the way round the back and knocked on the door. A large woman opened the door, wearing a dress that could only be called garish.
"Aunt Any!" exclaimed Chris.
"Chris louv, come in and bring your friend in with you." Chris literally dragged me through the door. "So, this is Pete." As she made the observation, she patted me on the head, I felt like a toy poodle. Chris nodded, one got the impression that Aunt Amy was the sort of women who did the talking. "They're through there." She indicated one of the two internal doors off the kitchen. "I'm taking your Aunt Maude for a girl's night out." She indicated a small figure hunched over the table. I recognised the woman from the fair last night and got the impression that she would much prefer a cup of Horlicks and an early night but knew full well that there was no chance of either.
We went through into the hall and then to another room. There were three men in the room, Uncle Jim, who I recognised from the night before, a man I did not know and an older man who I guessed was Chris's grandfather, they had the same grey eyes. Chris confirmed this with a cry of "grandda" as he ran over and climbed into the old man's lap, kissing his cheek.
Besides ourselves, there were six other boys there. They ranged in age from about eight or nine to fifteen or sixteen. One was Terry who I knew. The two older boys I had seen once with Terry in the Shed, one had sucked me whilst I sucked Terry, but I did not know their names.
"Where're Steve and Dave?" Chris asked.
"Jack's bringing them. Irene went shopping and had a bit of trouble in Beatties," responded Uncle Jim. The way he said shopping implied something a bit more than what I usually understood by the term. He then looked at me. I was still standing by the door. "Peter boy come in, come here." I walked over and stood by the settee on which he was seated. He looked at me and smiled.
"Chris's told us about you. Has he told you about tonight and what we do?" I nodded. "Good," he patted the settee next to him and I went and sat down. As I did, he slipped his hand inside the top of my jeans and fondled my already hard cock. "I'm glad to see you and feel you're glad to be here." I leaned against him and smiled as I looked over at Chris who was likewise being fondled by his grandfather.
Jim proceeded to explain to me who was whom. The other man was Phillip, a friend. The two older boys were Steve and Martin, though their relationship was not explained. I later found out that they were Jim's half-brothers, his father's bastards by a girl he had taken up with when his wife became ill. The three younger boys were Jim's. Timothy the older was eleven, usually called Tich, Thomas and Trevor his younger brothers were nine and eight, respectively.
He had just finished these explanations when there was a noise in the hall and the door burst open. Three boys aged about my age piled into the room, followed by Jack who I knew by sight and a younger man who seemed familiar.
"Sorry we're late, Dave got stuck at the studios." At that I recognised him. A couple of hours earlier Chris and I had listened to his latest hit on the jukebox in whilst we ate our fish & chips.
Jim, his hand now exploring deep between my legs continued to give identifications. Two of the boys were his sister Irene's lads, Tony and Rob. The other boy was Matt, Tony's friend, who now lived with Tony since a bit of trouble with his family.
Jack went over to the grandfather and kissed him, also, I noticed, giving Chris a grope.
"Bout time," grandfather commented, "we've been waiting to start unwrapping, get a boy each." Jack and Dave looked around for a moment then chose their boys. Dave selected Matt, Jack took Terry. The other boys who were left paired off amongst themselves.
As soon as they were seated with a boy on their laps, I felt Jim's hand move. He started to undo the bottom of my shirt. I looked over at Chris and saw that his grandfather had not bothered with the buttons, he was pulling the shirt directly over Chris's head. Similarly, Dave and Jack were disapparelling Matt and Terry.
My shirt was slipped off my shoulders and big calloused hands gently stroked my body before starting to undo my jeans. As they came open my hard cock sprang out fully at attention. Jim laid me back across his lap and took it in his mouth as he continued to undress me. Lying there, stretched out on Jim's lap I could see the other boys were helping each other undress. Soon we were all naked. Tich came over to stand by the settee. His cock small but erect was inches from my face. I stretched out and took it in my mouth. Jim pulled off me to sit up and watch me suck off his son. As he did Tich started to undo the buttons on Jim's shirt. Steve and Martin came over and assisted Tich in undressing Jim. The other men were similarly being assisted by groups of boys. A warm mouth started to work on cock, I glanced down from Tich's cock which I still had in my mouth, to see one of Jim's younger sons working on me.
Somehow, we moved from the settee to the floor. I was still wrapped in Jim's arms, my mouth around Tich's cock. Boys' bodies enveloped us, hands, cocks, mouths, what belonged to whom I could not say. Drinks were served and passed around. Glasses of cider for the boys, beer and whisky for the men. Much was spilt on naked bodies and licked off. First one man's cock then another was pushed towards my mouth and eagerly given entrance. Hands felt my body and fingers explored my arse. Two or three times I came close to exploding in climax but each time the stimulus was withdrawn.
At one point I found myself beneath Chris sucking on his dick as he sucked on mine whilst his grandfather's man-sized cock was pushed firmly but gently up his arse.
Then it stopped. By some sign, unknown to me, the men and boys pulled back. We sat on chairs, settee or men's laps, hot naked and erect. Jim told Tich to get the stuff. He got a heavy blanket which he threw over the low coffee table, a jar of Vaseline and a couple of candles. Then Tich lay down of the table, reached out and touched his Uncle Jack's cock, drawing it to his mouth.
"Well Jack," stated Jim, "there's your birthday present, my son's virgin arse. Nobodies had it yet and he's old enough to be taken."
"You're sure?"
"Yes, me and da agreed, you could have him. Be his first man, he's looking forward to it, aren't you son."
Tich smiled at his father and uncle. I was not certain he was looking forward to it. Not that it mattered much. It was clear to anyone present that this was some sort of rite of passage the boy was expected to go through. One to which he at least acquiesced. An indication of such being the fact that took up position on the tabletop, offering himself to his uncle.
One thing was clear that while Jack was intent on taking the boy, he intended to do so with as little distress to Tich as possible. Whilst we looked on, he spent a good ten to fifteen minutes opening the boy up with his fingers and the candles, making sure the boy was well lubed up with Vaseline, before he finally entered. As he did enter into Tich, the boy's grandfather started to sing "Happy Birthday to You", which the rest of the party joined in with.
When it was over Tich smiled at his Uncle. He had had his first fuck and from his favourite Uncle.
As the birthday fuck finished, groping hands once more found my cock and my mouth was pushed down onto a throbbing man cock. Once more writhing bodies of boys and men squirmed upon the floor, groping, sucking, wanking, licking and fucking. I saw Chris, once more impaled on the prong of his grandfather whilst sucking on Terry, who was, in turn, being fucked by Philip. In the corner, Dave played with the younger boys, whilst Jim, having given him away as a birthday present, now enjoyed fucking his own son.
Climax followed climax, with cum splattering on recumbent bodies. A combination of cider and exhaustion overtook me and I drifted into sleep, only to wake up being carried naked up the stairs. I looked up into Jack's face. He smiled.
"Time for bed I think", I nodded in his arms. He carried me into a bedroom, to a larger than normal double bed and placed me in it. Already Terry and the two young boys were there asleep. I rolled onto my side. Jack climbed in beside me, his fingers seeking between my legs. I felt something cool and slippery being spread. For a moment I tensed, feeling Jack's hard cock against my arse.
"No, not that way. Chris says you have not taken it yet and you would have to be made ready. Any man who takes a boy who has not been properly prepared is a monster. Try like this." His cock slipped between my legs, sliding back and forth as I, held in Jack's firm embrace fell asleep.
Next morning, we slept in late. I woke to find Jack's hard cock between my thighs. Once more he humped it and wanked me to, bringing us to climax at the same time. I asked Jack why he had not tried to fuck me?
"You weren't ready kid?" he informed me. "It would have 'urt you. That's why we start the boys young. That way they know all about it and a ready for it when it is there time to be taken. Actually, most of them will have already been taken by their older brothers or cousins a time or two before their first man takes them. That way they've been opened up and been made ready for it, so it won't harm them none and won't 'urt them.
"You need to be got ready. I'll speak to Chris and Terry 'bout working on you."
Later, after we had washed and tided up, he took Chris, Terry and me ratting. Unlike the other boys, I did not have an airgun, so Jack allowed me to use his .22 shotgun from time to time. I got six rats.
After dinner, we all went our separate ways, and I went home. No doubt many who are reading this are expressing horror at the incest and the way those men used the boys. Let them but let them also understand that those boys were loved and valued. Never in my life had I experienced the degree of kindness and understanding that I got from those men even as they were using us for their sexual pleasure. Also, do not doubt, we were using those men just as much as they were using us. I was not coerced or tricked into doing what I had done; I knew what was going to happen and went along wanting it to happen. I wanted to belong, to have a place, to be wanted. It was something that I never got from my family.
In the years that followed I would go to that house a number of times. In that time, I got to know something of their thinking. They were strict Catholics so would not practice birth control. Rather than having sex with their wives they had it with their boys. When questioned about the prohibition in Leviticus the answer was that it was about a man lying with a man, there was no mention of lying with a boy. Some forty years later I was to hear the same argument being used by a Muslim to justify his harem of boys. I was, a couple years later, to ask Terry about the fact that whilst the men were quite happy to have sex with the boys, I never saw them having sex with each other.
"They would not have thought that right," Terry informed me. "Having sex with another man would have been being queer. Having sex with a boy is just getting your rocks off."
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