Walking the Wild Side
by Nigel Gordon
Chapter 3
Saturday morning I was up early and preparing my breakfast when my mother came through to the kitchen.
"You're early," she observed.
"I'm going over to the Lowcross shopping centre. Want to get there before it gets busy," I stated.
"Whatever for? Isn't easier to go into town?"
"There's a branch of Black's there and I need to look for a new tent," I responded. Not true but a good cover story.
"Leo, you got a new tent for your fourteenth birthday and it's hardly been used."
"Mam, that's a boy's tent. I was fourteen and what, one sixty max? I'm seventeen now and one seventy-eight. My feet will stick out of it."
"Why now? You've not said anything before. When we were in Brum we could have looked in a few stores."
"Only really thought about it last night. John and Maddie's birthdays are next week and they will both be taking their bike tests. If John passes I thought we could go off to the Beacons camping for a week before school starts."
"And who do you mean by we?"
"Simon, John and myself," I replied.
"No Maddie?"
"No, don't think she is into camping," I responded. "Anyway, she's off on some training camp with British Taekwondo the first week of September, which is when we would probably be going. Doubt John can do his test and sort a bike before then."
"Ok, but don't go wasting your money," she admonished.
"I'm not going to buy, just to look. Will probably see what I like and then get it online; it will almost certainly be cheaper online."
"That's good thinking," she commented. "It's nice to see you getting out with John and Simon more. You've been a bit distant from them for some time. You need to build up your social life, outside of Maddie." I just nodded in agreement, not wanting to commit to anything.
I finished sorting out my breakfast and made mother a bacon sandwich, then rode over to Lowcross. It is technically still part of Cromford but only just, being nearly five miles from the town centre and a good couple of miles from the urban spread of the town. What had until a few years ago been a couple of farms and the odd cottage was now a thriving retail park with an industrial park behind it.
Unfortunately, there are no main roads from the town to the retail park, just a series of small country lanes — a fact that has probably saved most of the small retailers in town. It was just too much of a hassle for most people to drive out to it, at least if you were driving a car; that was why most of its business came from out of town. On a bike it was a different matter, all those tight corners were fun to ride, so long as the weather was good.
Fortunately, the weather was good. Even this early in the morning the temperature was twenty-three and the sun was shining. That was a problem for me. I have very fair skin and it burns easily. So, whilst I would have loved to be able to ride in a tee shirt or tank top and shorts, prudence demanded a long-sleeved shirt and jeans. I know from a safety point of view I should have been wearing my leathers but in this heat they would have been too much.
It was just after ten when I got to Lowcross. Had arranged to meet Master James at eleven so had quite a bit of time to look round. I did go into Black's and look at tents, though there was nothing there that I liked. At least not in the sort of price range that I had in mind. Whilst there my phone beeped, and I saw it was a text from Maddie. She asked if I could join her and John at three to discuss Simon's birthday, which was the first week of September. We did this for all our birthdays to make sure that we did not duplicate gifts. I texted back to say I was at Lowcross but would be back in town by one so could meet them at three. I had finished with Black's and went to PJ Leathers, who had a big outlet store on the park. Did not need any new leathers, the ones I had were only few months old, but it was nice to look. Anyway, there was an assistant in there who was quite attentive. He could not have been much older than me and he latched onto me as soon as I walked into the store. Not that there were that many customers around to latch onto — I think I was the only one in the place. He persuaded me to try a couple of pairs of leather trousers on. One pair was far too tight on me, I could only just do up the zip, and how I got the waist button fastened I do not know. Must admit though I did look good in them. They were a very soft leather which moulded itself to my form and left nothing to the imagination. The assistant seemed very keen on them, especially when he started to check them out on me to see what 'adjustments' would be needed.
After trying on the two pair of trousers and about four jackets, I opted to buy a pair of gloves and a silk balaclava. They were actually things I needed. The gloves I had were not really that good and I did not have a balaclava to wear under my helmet. Had missed that in the bad weather we had back at Easter when I first got the bike.
I had just left the leather store when three bikes roared into the parking area. They rode in formation, one in front, the two others side by side behind him. The leader swung his bike round and parked it in the motorcycle parking area. His outriders followed suit but parked a bit away from him. Once off their bikes they stood for a moment and talked, then the two followers started to walk across in the direction of the leather store while the leader went off towards Mario's food outlet. It was there that I had arranged to meet Master James.
I checked my watch and saw it was not quite ten fifty; I had agreed to meet Master James at eleven at the entrance to Mario's. He had been quite insistent that I made sure I was on time, saying that if I was not there he was not going to hang around and wait for me. In one of his messages he had told me that people who were late tended to be time wasters and wimps. It seemed Master James had a particular dislike of wimps. At least that was the impression I got from his messages.
I popped into W H Smith's to get some cartridges for my pen. I know my friends mock me but I do prefer to write using a fountain pen than a biro. Find it a lot easier. I've got a really nice Lamy pen which writes like a dream. Unfortunately, getting cartridges for it can be a bit of a problem. So, I make a point of grabbing some anytime I am anywhere that sells them, like the larger branches of Smiths.
When I came out of Smiths it was just gone ten fifty five, so I made my way to the entrance to Mario's. As I walked across I looked round to see if I could see any of the bikers who had ridden in, but there was no sign of them. Once at Mario's I took my place on the left side of the entrance, waiting for Master James to make himself known.
"Peter?" a voice from inside the door asked. I turned in that direction just as the leader of the three bikers stepped out.
"Yes," I replied.
"Good," he replied. "I'm Master James." He held out his hand in greeting, I took it and got a very firm handshake. I noticed he had emphasised the word master when he had introduced himself. "Let's go through to the terrace; it has a far better view than looking over to the car park, and also it's more private for talking." With that he turned and led the way through Mario's to the rear. Since the retail park had opened I had been out here a number of times, and I had visited Mario's before. It was by far the best place for food in the park, the alternatives all being junk food outlets. What I had not realised was that there was a terrace at the back of the place that looked out over the valley beyond.
Master James was right; the place was a lot more private. There was only one other table on the terrace occupied and that was at the far end from where Master James took a table. I mentioned to him that I had not known that the terrace was there. He informed me that it was generally only open for special events and weekends because of the extra staff needed to cover it. If I had come during the week it would not have been available. That made sense. I had normally come out here on weekdays during the holidays.
The waitress came and took our order. I ordered cola and a Danish, Master James ordered coffee and strudel. We chatted for a few minutes until we were served. Once served and the waitress had moved away Master James asked me why I had joined the site.
"Well, I was gay and did not know how to find anyone else who was gay in Cromford," I informed him.
"It can be difficult to meet up," Master James commented. "That's especially true as so many are dishonest about themselves."
"What do you mean, dishonest?" I asked.
"They try to pretend that they are not gay. You find them trying to set up some sort of relationship that looks like what you get between a girl and a boy. That's not being gay. It means that in any relationship one of the males has to take on a subservient female role. Being gay is about being male, being a man.
"Look Peter, you don't want to be a girl do you?" he asked.
"No," I responded.
"Then, why go looking for a relationship that pushes you into a female role?" he asked. "Real gay men want men, not imitation women. They want men who can take charge of them as men and make them feel as men. They don't want to get into some lovey-dovey relationship with one person, they want to be part of a group, a gang. That's how men bond, they form gangs, groups of men who have a common interest.
"For us it is sex. We enjoy sex, we explore sex, we use it to the full. You're new to all this aren't you?" I confirmed I was, and he continued. "You have a lot to learn Peter. There is a lot I can teach you. There is no need for you to be on your own. There is a group of us for you to belong to. We will guide you and teach you, we will be there for you."
There was something about the way that Master James was talking that made me feel included. Since I had realised I was gay I had always felt a little bit of an outsider. Never quite fitting in. Now it made sense, I had been thinking of life in terms of straight relationships, the boyfriend and girlfriend, husband and wife scenario that I saw all around me. I could never work out how I fitted in with such a lifestyle. Now Master James had made it clear: I did not. The gay lifestyle was different.
I must have nodded or something to show my agreement with his argument as he continued. "Look Peter, gay men have to take sex where and when we can find it. We are like sharks going out hunting for sex. Of course, that creates problems, so we find our own way to solve them. We form groups and are available for each other within the group.
"Of course, any group must have a leader. I am one, I lead a group of young men, gay like yourself, all of whom ride motorcycles. We like the sort of things you do, bikes, speed, leather." As he said that he glanced down at the PJ Leathers bag that I had put down at the side of the table. "It is a group where you can find a home, no longer be outside. You would be welcome inside. There you will find sex and you will find friends, for we will look after each other. We also teach you about sex and about yourself. We will teach you to be a man, a real gay man, not some boy pretending to be a girl to please some dirty old man who wants to fuck him."
"Are there a lot of dirty old men who want to fuck boys?" I asked.
"More than you can imagine," he replied. "That is one thing I can assure you we will keep you protected from. Once you are one of us no dirty old man will be able to get his hands on you."
There was something comforting about that statement. It made me feel important, that Master James was concerned for me. I thanked him for the assurance on my safety. He told me that looking after each other was what the group was about and that I would fit right in with it. Then he invited me to join them for lunch in Little Hamford. I was tempted to agree but remembered that I had already made arrangements to meet Maddie in the afternoon. One thing you did not do was fail to turn up when you had agreed to meet her. You might do it once, but that would be the last time.
I explained that I had an appointment in the afternoon that I could not change so would be unable to take up the invitation. Master James expressed regret but stated that he hoped we could meet again soon and that I would be able to join them for the ride the next Saturday. We finished off, paid our bills and I walked with Master James to the motorcycle parking area. The two guys who had ridden in with him were standing by their bikes, helmets on, which I thought was a bit strange, when we got there. I noticed they were both dressed alike, black tank top, wide leather studded belt, blue denim jeans and calf-high biker boots. Both men had tribal tattoos down their left arms. I wondered if Master James was the same. He was wearing a light denim jacket, so I could not see arms. However, it was open and he appeared to be wearing a tank top underneath. There was a hint of a tattoo showing over the next of the tank top.
I put the stuff I had bought into my top box. Master James repeated that he hoped I would make it to the ride next Saturday, assuring me that I would find it interesting. He also emphasised that it was for men, not wimps.
It was well before twelve when I got home. I had plenty of time before I was due to meet Maddie in town. Mother had left a note saying that she and Dad had decided to go into Worcester for the day, would be back around four. Guessed that Dad was being dragged around clothes shops as mother wanted a new outfit for a wedding in September they were going to. Fortunately, I had not been included on the invite, so did not have to get a new suit.
Given that there was nobody around I took the opportunity to go onto the site. There were a few messages for me, most of which I deleted immediately. Tom had messaged me to give me details where to meet for lunch the next day. It was a canal-side pub down by the locks. I knew it as it was one of the few pubs around that was specifically dog friendly, so one dad and I sometimes popped into when we took Blackie out for a Sunday walk. Though we had not done that for a couple of years.
There was one message from HappyBoy10, inviting me to meet with him for a chat and a coffee on Thursday evening. He suggested meeting at a greasy spoon on the edge of town. Not the best café around but popular with truck drivers who took the main road as a short cut from the M40 to the M5. In his message he said he was twenty-eight, though the site listed him as thirty, and gay. He was very open in saying that he was not interested in any sort of relationship but was looking for a regular sex partner. Well, a regular sex partner would be a damned site better than what I had at the moment, which was nothing. I messaged him back and agreed to meet.
Scanned the meets that were listed on the site but there was nothing there that interested me. In fact, there were some that actually repulsed me, such like the chap asking for tops to come and fuck him bareback and fill his arse with cum. Doesn't he have any respect for himself?
Not being in any rush, I decided to walk into town. I could always get the bus back if I needed to. Anyway I was not too keen on parking my bike in the car park as there had been a couple of bikes stolen from the motorcycle parking area in recent months, even though there were fastening posts to lock your bike up to. Another advantage of walking into town was that I could take some routes that were not available when using wheeled transport. For a start, I could walk through the park, then along the river bank and cut up through the churchyard to the market square. Although not much shorter than following the road, it was far more enjoyable on a warm day.
I came up the steps from the river to the church yard and entered by the back gate, only to find Maddie and Keith Rogers sitting on a bench behind the church. Maddie looked up surprised as I walked up, giving me the distinct impression that I had walked in on something where I was not exactly welcome. Keith grunted some sort of acknowledgement to me, and Maddie said she had expected to see me later at Bruno's, a small café just off the market square where we had agreed to meet. I told her I would be there at three and left, wondering what Maddie and Keith were doing together.
They had been close for a couple of years before Keith had left school. I had got the distinct impression that anything between them had ceased before then. For one thing, Maddie's mother had made it quite clear that she did not approve of Keith. Thinking about it, I realised that once that disapproval had been made clear, we, that is Simon, John and I, had sort of dropped Keith from our group, as we normally went to Maddie and John's after school. To some extent Keith had separated himself from the group before that. This was partly by the subjects he choose to study at fourteen, it being clear even then that he was not going for sixth form, and even more so by the fact that he increasingly tended to hang out with a group of lads who were just not into the things we were into.
Crossing the market square, I popped into the local card shop and bought cards for Maddie and John; it was their birthday next week. Then slipped into the bookshop, just to browse. I made it to Bruno's about ten to three. John was already there. He told me he had no idea where Maddie was as he had not seen her all day. I mentioned I had seen her earlier with Keith Rogers. John gave me a questioning look. I decided best not to supply further information.
Probably just as well because that was when Maddie arrived. We all got colas and sat discussing what each of us were getting Simon for his eighteenth. No mention was made of the twins' birthday the following Wednesday. Once we had made sure we were not clashing on gifts, we split up or at least John split. He was taking his girlfriend to the cinema. I had no specific plans so we decided to walk home. Maddie's house being on the opposite side of the park from mine, we split up at the bandstand and made our way home. I had only just got home when mother arrived back with piles of bags, followed by father, who looked as if he had been put through the wringer. I suppose being dragged round every dress shop in Worcester, especially on a day verging on the hot, can have that effect on any man, especially when he is having to pay.
Dad asked me if I could take a look at the car, said something did not sound right. Dad's an IT man and apparently quite brilliant at it. Mechanically, he is useless. He is also useless at any form of DIY. Somehow, I have acquired a mechanical bent and love putting up shelves and things. Until I was fourteen I would often hang out with Keith at his father's garage on a Saturday, helping out and in the process learning a lot about car mechanics. Unlike Keith, I had never had the desire to go into the business; it had, though, led to my interest in engineering. However, Dad had put a stop to me going to the garage when one of his mates had said something about me working there.
I went out and started the car. Dad was right, something did not sound right. Could have investigated but to be honest I did not feel in the mood, so went back in and told him he better take it into the garage. He gave me the look which said 'can't you do something?' but did not say anything. I told him I thought it might be the timing belt, and that that needed specialist tools.
Sunday morning I was late getting up, very late. It was something of a rush to get ready to go and meet Tom and his friend for lunch. I was supposed to be at the Leathern Bottle at twelve-thirty and it was a good half hour walk along the canal bank. So I had to leave at noon at the latest, and so not waking up till gone eleven was not good. Fortunately, mother had decided to take Blackie out of a walk, so I did not need to take him along with me. That would have slowed me down.
It was not as if I had any excuse for oversleeping other than being a seventeen-year-old. I had not been up late the night before, or at least not that late. I had stayed up a bit: one of the messages I got on the site had given me a link to a gay porn site, and I had gone on it once my parents were in bed. It had been interesting but I had not been on it that long, or at least I didn't think I had.
In the end, I got ready and got out just before twelve and made it to the pub with a couple of minutes to spare. Tom was already there. I was surprised to see him sitting at a table alone as he had mentioned meeting a friend. When I asked about this he told me that Stephen was at the police station and doubted he would be out in time to join us.
"Is he in trouble?" I asked.
"No," Tom replied, laughing. "But one of his clients is. Stephen is a solicitor. He got a call at nine this morning that one of his clients had been arrested last night and was in custody; he has gone over to see if he can sort out bail. No idea how long it will take, especially as it is a Sunday."
Tom asked me what I would like for lunch. I took a quick look at the menu and opted for fish and chips. I know, not traditional Sunday lunch, but I almost never got it at home so it was a nice change. That established, Tom went to the bar to order the food and get us some drinks, a bitter shandy for me and a pint of bitter for him.
We chatted for a bit while we waited for our meals. Tom asked if I had made any other meets on the board. I told him I had one at a café yesterday and was meeting another chap in a café on Thursday. He asked if there was to be a follow-up from yesterday, I told him I was not certain; had been invited on a ride out but had not confirmed yet that I was going. Tom reminded me that if I did I should make sure somebody knew the details.
Our meals came and over them we discussed relationships. Tom told me about Rajeet, the Pakistani boy he had been in love with. When he gave me the details I realised I knew his younger brother; he had been a year ahead of me at school and had just finished sixth form. It was clear from the way Tom spoke about Rajeet that he has strong feelings for him still. I found this confusing as it did not fit with what Master James had said about gay relationships.
When Tom got onto Mark, his roommate at Aston, it was a totally different thing. Yes, they were having sex but that was all it was, sex between mates. Tom used the phrase friend with benefits, which I then had to get him to explain. He told me he knew Mark from Cromford before they went to Aston but did not know he was gay. Only found that out when they met at a GaySoc meeting during Fresher's Week. After that they became friends and sexual partners and from that went on to sharing a one bedroom flat, but both understood from the beginning that they were not in love with each other and they had an open relationship. Again an explanation was required. It turned out it meant that they had no problems with either of them having sex with other men. In fact, Tom admitted that on occasions they would take people back to the flat to have three or sometimes four-way sex sessions.
By the sound of things that sounded a lot more like the sort of relationship that Master James had described. Men being men and enjoying each other's bodies. When Tom had been talking about Ranjeet it had all sounded a bit sloppy, like something out a Mills and Boon novel.
The idea of having a friend with benefits sounded nice, to be honest the idea of having sex with any male seemed a good idea just then. After all that porn last night I was feeling somewhat randy, not having had time for my wank this morning. I was not certain though if there was going to be on offer from Tom, so I pushed the issue.
"Are you sure Leo?" Tom asked.
"Yes," I responded. "Why do you ask?"
"I don't know really. You would think I would jump at the chance to have a bonk with you. As I told you, you're a gay guy's dream come true. The thing is, I don't really know, there is something different about you. I feel as if I should be protecting you, not fucking you."
"You are not fucking me," I pointed out. "So far we have not got that far, I am not sure I am into that yet. I am though sure I am into what we have done up to now, so let's get somewhere and do it."
So we did. We went back to Tom's place. This time I actually managed to suck him off, though he pulled out before he came and sprayed it all over my chest. He then sucked me off and insisted that I come in his mouth, which I did. I tasted my cum on him when we kissed afterwards.
We arranged to meet up again on Wednesday. This time I insisted that we meet at Tom's place, as his parents were still in Italy, and I intended we would have sex again.
Wednesday morning I got a text from Tom cancelling the meeting and saying he was sending me an email later. It was much later that I got it. A long rambling message about how much he felt for me and how he did not think it was a good idea for us to be so sexually involved with each other the way we were. He pointed out that come the end of the holidays we would be miles apart. Then he went on to say how he felt I deserved better than being a quick fuck on the side and he did not want to hurt me.
Fuck, he was hurting me. I thought we could get something going. What was it that Tom had called it? Friends with benefits. If he and Mark had managed to do it for nearly three years, surely the two of us could, at least for a year? Then we could see how things went. I was angry. It looked like Tom was exactly the type of gay guy Master James had been talking about, who wanted to build a romantic girl boy type of relationship. Well, there was no way I was going to be the girl in any relationship.
Matthew, the chap I had agreed to meet on the Thursday, messaged me that evening to confirm details. I confirmed I would be at the café at seven thirty Thursday evening. There was also a message from Master James about the ride on Saturday. I told him that I would be going but asked for some more details.
Thursday was pretty boring. Maddie was away in London at some championship she was taking part in and John had gone along to support her. Not sure he had much choice as their mother and Dr Stevenson had also gone along having taken some time off work to be present. I think they saw it as a good excuse to have a long weekend in the capital and take in a couple of shows.
Simon was down with some summer cold. You could bet your life if there was any sort of infection going around then Simon would get it. As a result I had no one to meet up with during the day. Almost wished I had gone down to London with the Atkins, both Simon and I having been invited to join them, but we had both turned it down.
Mother was working the late shift as Carol was off, so I had an early dinner and then set off on a ride round the countryside before making my way to the greasy spoon. I got there a bit before seven thirty. Matthew, who I had no difficulty in recognising thanks to the description he had sent me, was already there. I got a tea from the counter, one safe drink in any greasy spoon – they always make good tea. Once seated at the table we chatted about ourselves and things in general. He seemed like a nice bloke, though I thought he might be a bit older than he was saying. He was not bad looking, and from what I could see had a fit body and was clean. What more could you ask for? I wanted someone for sex, not a life partner. We quickly got round to that subject. Matt, as he had insisted I call him, asked me what experience I had. I told him very little. A couple of blow jobs with Tom, kissing, mutual wanking and frottage.
Matt smiled at me and told me he would be my first fuck. I was not sure I could do that; how did you fuck someone? Matt assured me there was nothing to it. Push your cock in and let nature take its course. He then told me that his flat was upstairs over the café and asked if I would like to go up.
Well in for a penny, in for a pound. Why not? I said yes. He led the way out of the café, round to the side and up some steps to a balcony walkway, off which there were four doors. His door was at the very end. Inside it was small but very tidy, if a bit feminine for my liking. There were lace curtains at the windows and frilly cushions on the chairs. Matt told me to take seat, that he had to go and get ready but he would call me when he was ready and I was to come through to the bedroom.
I had read a bit online about preparing to be fucked. About douches and enemas. Thought Matt was probably giving himself one to make sure he was clean inside. Expected it to take him at least ten minutes, so was surprised when he called out about three minutes later telling me to come through.
I opened the door, stepped through and came to a complete stop. He was lying on the bed on his back his legs pulled up and spread apart, exposing his arse. What threw me was the fact that he was wearing a blond wig, a pink baby doll nighty and a pair of pink crotch-less panties.
"Well baby, get that cock out and fuck this pussy," he called to me. I turned and left. The idea of fucking that just made me feel sick, physically sick. About five hundred yards down the road I had to stop the bike so I could vomit. Just could not get the image out of my mind. Now I knew what Master James had been on about. Was that what Tom wanted me to be?
Friday at breakfast I told my parents I was going to bike over to Langford Bridge on Saturday with a couple of guys and then to a barbeque in Little Hamford. Mother started to question me about who they were but Dad told her to give me some space. He pointed out I was seventeen and needed a life of my own. Mother did not look happy but did not pursue the matter. Looking back on things I wish she had pursued matters, that, though, comes with the benefit of hindsight. What I definitely should have done was text Tom with details of where I was going. I had told him I would but didn't think it mattered, I had already met Master James and he seemed OK.
Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.
[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]
* Some browsers may require a right click instead
