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Feedback is nice, but not mandatory. If you are from Eastbourne, like me, in the late 90's. Let me know, we probably met, had a drink, or something. I was a geeky nerd in glasses at the end of the bar at the Hartingdon, surrounded by a pack of the nicest, craziest, and most awesome Lesbians in the world.
Eastbourne Tales – 02
What can I say about '97 – '98 that you don't know. We were in the earliest days of everyone getting a cell phone, and the competition was who had the smallest, ha! We had HMV and Virgin for CD's, first cars, first loves... puppies.
Jimmy, we will still go with Jimmy 'cause this was before he changed his name, ran off to Canada, tries a million different things and ended up older, wiser, and much more chill than he was back then.
Jimmy was enjoying the sun and trying to get his old blue Rover to actually run. The thing was sitting behind his flat, a converted dining room of an old Hotel called the Mayfair that had, at some point, become DOS housing. Jimmy was broke, but then weren't we all back when we were Seventeen?
The car was a mess, too expensive, unreliable, and baby boy blue, that colour that seemed, no matter what, to be the epitome of uncool in that era. (Jimmy drives a Jeep now, a red one, it's electric and pretty much smarter than he is... it even argues with him about whether the boot is closed or open that has nothing to do with... ok, enough bitchin' about the Jeep). He didn't really like the car, but it was his car... well the banks car... and certainly would be in the banks possession again if Jimmy didn't get a fucking job.
He slammed the hood closed, (forgive the English/Canadian language slips, poor ol'Jimmy is the bastard son of both countries, and never did get the best bits of either). He wiped his brown and cursed, deciding that walking was probably the only way he was actually going to get to the Job Centre and sign on. Probably for the best as there was never any parking, and the Odeon was sick and tired of a blue car parked abysmally in their one parking spot during the day.
He wore his usual tired waistcoat and tie ensemble, looking like a reject from a '30's period piece. His style, pocket watch included. It was too hot, he hated hats, and he'd regret not taking a shower that morning. But then unwashed masses in the dole line...
He set off with a purpose, navigating the broad flower bedecked streets as he wove his way across the town towards the Arndale Centre. A cup of coffee scrounged from the lovely lady at the coffee shop there that gave him a sticky bun and a coffee purely because she knew that if she didn't he'd probably starve to death. He loved her, in a surrogate granny type of way. After all, his own had given up on him. Family was never a thing for him. He let them down, they let him down, fights, trouble and misery always seemed to come next... anyway, coffee and bun and Dole.
It was in the Dole line, waiting for his New Deal, that was pretty much the Old Deal just rebranded with a whole lot of nosiness picking apart what he was doing to find work, how many applications... interviews (Zero by the way, a job in the nineties, the only thing less likely was a job in today's market. Damn Tories... no stay on topic, no anti-conservativism... bad). It was in the Dole line, sitting on the pee yellow coloured plastic chairs, in an office from the seventies desperately trying to look modern and failing... that he met someone.
Of course that someone was also on the Dole.
The guy in question was definitely one of the sexiest lads there. He had short really dark brown, almost black hair and eyebrows, the right of which had two diagonal lines shaved into it. He had sexy bluey grey eyes and thin pinkish lips. His face looked about 19 and was so stereotypically scally but in a really sexy way. (who am I kidding, of course he's gonna look that way almost everyone under a certain age, at that time, in the dole office was gonna look like that... that or they tried their damndest to look weird like Jimmy did). He was pale, dusted with freckles and had a don't mess with me appeal that as a submissive middle class gay boy really got Jimmy's motor running. He was wearing a white sleeveless vest which showed off all his arms. His arms were long, pale, sender and dusted with freckles. His biceps had some lean tone and definition to them and each one had a tattoo. Below he was wearing a light grey cotton pair of sweat pants and white trainers. He wasn't sexy in the classical sense but he was a hot scally and Jimmy couldn't help snatching glances at him whenever he could.
Of course subtlety wasn't one of Jimmy's strong suits, and the lad in question caught him looking, and grinned in a massive show of teeth, charm, and appreciation.
"Signing on?" he asked, as if there were any other reason to be sitting there at ridiculous o'clock on a Tuesday.
"Sure," Jimmy replied. "You?"
"Waiting for magic," the lad replied with a lackadaisical smile. "Think it just happened tho. I'm Rob." hand trust out, and shaken.
"Jimmy," Jimmy replied.
"Oh James," Rob en-toned in a posh accent. "nice to meetcha."
"Oh Robert, old chap, charmed I am sure," Jimmy replied matching the tone with his own affectation. "We have a spot of bother over there." He nodded over to where some old geezer was slamming the table, yelling and pointing at the social worker accusingly.
Jimmy actually knew him, Kevin, poor guy timid as a mouse, a true civil servant who took abuse like this on a daily basis and was still kind enough to share a pint with the likes of Jimmy at the end of the day. Boyfriend material, sure, if he wasn't batshit crazy... well like everyone was back then.
"So does the Lord James have any plans for this after?" Rob asked charmingly, still on with the whole Posh boy persona.
"Well after a bit of polo, I might take a trip to the seaside and see if I can't find something to do with myself along the carpet gardens," Jimmy replied. "I mean, until of course a meeting with the Queen..."
"Careful of her," Rob laughed. "I hear she's taken up residence at the Hartingdon and is ruling her roost."
Admitting he knew of the Hartingdon, and Queens that weren't THE Queen... Rob had deliberately and carefully outed himself. But then given that he had just caught Jimmy leching on him, and still wanted to chat, it wasn't that much of a risk. It was an invitation, of sorts, to explore the subject a bit further.
Jimmy felt his ears burning, he realized he was being sounded out now. "I-err... yeah for sure. I mean, we gotta avoid that, right?"
Rob's eyes were alight with humor. Dropping the faux accent, he smiled, "Wanna come back to mine, meet the dog?"
"I don't get on well with dogs..." Jimmy blushed, he didn't... they liked him, he was scared of them in return. Typical timidity meets boundless enthusiasm thing... wait, Rob's eyes were laughing at him. "what?"
"THE dog," Rob replied, bouncing his eyebrows up and down, before looking meaningfully down at his lap.
"Oh!" Jimmy sighed in relief. "I think I can manage that dog."
"Can you now?" Rob's lips twisted into a lopsided grin. "Might be a bit of a pitbull."
"Could be a Yorkshire terrier for all I know," Jimmy responded teasingly.
"You, I like you," Rob replied getting up as his name was called. "Meetcha over there after I do the obligatory lie my arse off to them that be," he nodded to the civil servant, militant jobseeker enforcer who was glaring impatiently at him, pretending that he hadn't heard the bit about lying.
Jimmy was lucky, he had Kevin, which was awesome. Kevin greeted him with a smirk, as he sat down.
"You look like you just pulled," he said in a low voice, so as not to attract the attention of his superior, a rather rotund lady that looked like she sucked an entire bushel of lemons.
"I... think so?" Jimmy replied glancing down the line of cheap cafeteria tables that were the only thing keeping the unwashed separate from their dictatorial Jobseeker overseers. "You all right after..." he referred to the earlier tiffle.
Kevin nodded, "You're the only one that bothered to ask if I was ok, thanks mate." Kevin was tapping things into a computer that took up half his table, massive monitor that swayed precariously each time Kevin punched things into the keyboard.
"So have you.. blah blah blah, and you know... etc?" Kevin skipped the mandatory bullshit questions he was obligated to ask.
"Uh, yeah... sure," Jimmy responded, lying like every other poor sod had in that office all day and everyday until things went digital with the whole Universal Credit bullshit that moved it all online with Journals, work coaches, and call centers.
"Good," Kevin said, tapping more keys. "Pint and all the juicy details after your.. date/afternoon rompy-pompy?" He nodded over to Rob, who was making broad gestures and giving a Royal Theatre level rendition of 'Honest Job Seeker' a play by Tony Blair, and was now showing up and down the nation.
"Yeah mate, that'd be nice... can't afford to.." He began.
Kevin smiled and looked up, "I know, can see all your bank records." He tapped the monitor. "I'll buy, you can pay me back after the pint if you still have any energy left." He again side-eyed Rob.
Jimmy rolled his eyes, "shurrup, and sure."
Bits of paper signed, annotated and filed, Jimmy met Rob at the designated place as the both of them set out into the hot Tuesday sun, walking towards Rob's place and the inevitable meeting of the dog.
"You gotta be thinking you're the luckiest guy in the world," Rob said lighting a cigarette as they walked into the seedier part of town around Langley Road.
"Well I typically get on pretty well," Jimmy shrugged as they crossed the road. "Being me kinda helps."
Rob took a deep breath of his smoke, "Yeah you're pretty cute, good for a laugh. We'll have to see once I get yer kit off."
"Not going to buy me dinner first? Jimmy joked.
"Fishfingers and chips? Bout all I got at this time of the week. Could rustle up a cup of tea, if you're thirsty."
Jimmy chuckled, "My Gran taught me to never turn down a free meal... though probably not intentionally."
"Rough," Rob observed. "I'm the same, family thinks I am nuts so I've been on my own since Sixteen. Should be laws against kicking kids out because they like things their parents don't approve of and all that."
"Should be a lot of laws regarding what parents should and shouldn't be able to do, but our Nan-state is more focused on policing the poor than it is about protecting people..." Jimmy chuckled. "Sorry, I get carried away with politics."
"It's nice," Rob remarked as they turned off by a second hand charity shop, and he began to unlock the door to his flat. "Most people see me and think I'm thick, or some such. I don't remember the last time I had a proper conversation that wasn't footie, mingers, or footie and mingers. Fuck I hate my mates."
They were in the narrow hallway, leading to steep stairs up into the place. There wasn't much room, and in the sudden intimacy Rob made his move, planting his lips on Jimmy's. That ashey tongue, the intoxicating scent of teenager... the hardness in his trackies now pressing into Jimmy's own.
"F-fuck yeah," Rob breathed as he pulled back a little. "Wanted to do that for a while now. Wanna come upstairs?"
They made it as far as the upper landing before Rob turned Jimmy around and pressed him up against the airing cupboard, gripping his dick through his trousers. A moment later he was wrestling it free of the trousers, which fell and pooled around his ankles, boxers following a moment later.
Rob's course hand felt the loose foreskin and cupped Jimmy's balls exposed and hanging below. They looked into each others eyes, a knowing look, a look that said more.
Rob placed a foot on jimmies kaks, allowing him to step out of them, as he was guided across the hall and into the bedroom. Allowing Rob to push him back on the bed, and smiling. Rob's wiry hair coming out from under his baseball cap, as he reset it after shucking his white vest. He was slim with definition, a close shaved face with some light stubble. Tall, and thin, and he was now shedding his trackies.
"I like the tie, keep it on Schoolie Posh boy," Rob said as he dropped his eagre mouth to the stiff cock. The gasp was audible.
Using expert skills, he sucked softly on the smooth cock as he pulled Jimmy's shirt off. Leaving him laying their in nothing but socks and his tie. Chest pale and hairless with two light brown nipples. Rob headed for those, zeroing in and reading the moan escaping from Jimmy's mouth as encouragement.
Rob slipped out of his briefs and stood with a fat seven inches curving upwards. Taking only a second before he moved forward, laying on his captured prize, kissing him. Their mouths parting as tongue met tongue again and they french kissed.
Little "oh's" could be heard escaping from Jimmy's mouth as Rob continued the journey. Swinging about so that his cock was now at those lips, and his down at the other. They both kissed, almost mirroring each others tentative kisses on the dicks. A heartbeat, and Jimmy took the head in his mouth. Slowly, he started to suck that cock admitting to himself that this felt amazing.
There was a pause, as Rob dug under the bed, removing a condom and lube. He looked at Jimmy and grinned, a blink, a flash of rubber and Jimmy's cock was gloved, and lubed.
"Oh wow," Jimmy breathed. "I thought..."
"Don't think," Rob encouraged as he straddled Jimmy's hips, gripping the cock he wanted and guiding it to his eagre hole. He pointed the tip up, and guided it as he slowly backed onto Jimmy's dick. Jimmy gripping Rob's hips and started to fuck him.
"Didn't figure you for a bot..." He gasped as his flesh was gripped tightly and squeezed by Rob's inner muscles.
"I like what I like," Rob shrugged as they flipped over, Rob onto his back and Jimmy on top, getting his cock in tight and pumping hard. Within seconds he was hammering away at Rob's arse.
"Yes...oh..." Rob was gone into a world of his own as he was ridden. Ecstasy, pain and pleasure combining into a fuck that both would remember a long time. They were rutting now, running a race against their own bodies, trying to prolong the coming explosion. But time would always win out, as Jimmy pumped his full and heavy load into the condom.
"Oh god," Rob murmured as he quickly pushed Jimmy down and out, to wrap his lips around Rob's cock, tasting the load that filled his willing mouth. He drained it, feeling Rob tuck his baseball cap on Jimmy's head. Looking up as he cleaned the last stuff off of the member.
"Keep it," Rob said, nodding to the cap. "Marks you as mine. So same time next time we sign on?"
Dole days were suddenly looking more interesting.
Christopher P Lydon
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