My Fair Lad - Part 9
A reimagining of My Fair Lady. Set in London, about now.
It tells the story of Chas, a rough edged lad, down on his luck and Mark a successful banker. Mark and his banker colleague Gerry make a bet that he can teach Chas to be a gentleman and be accepted into the banking profession.
It's all gone tits up, Mark has gone.
Chas is in Ramsgate plotting his future and telling the story.
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A Costly Call
We consummated our partnership in the flat, it took us all morning, just to make sure!
We walked back to Gavs folks and Gav packed his bags as I sat on the bed. My mind full of memories, recalling `remember when' stories of two randy lads learning about life, trying to keep it light.
Fucking hell' says Gav, all my life in two bags',
Gav walks down the stairs, I'm sure I saw the spitfire pilot waggle his wings and wave a goodbye to me.
I switch off the bedroom light and follow him down the stairs, there we are, all stood in the cramped hallway,
Ma is crying, hugging Gav. His Pa grips my hand, pulling me in close, he whispers in my ear, `take care of my boy won't you, Shelle wasn't right for him',
His Ma throws her arms around my neck and gives me a big kiss on my cheek,
She's too emotional to speak. Gav is holding it together, just.
`So Ma, don't worry, we've got a nice flat to give us time to get ourselves together, time for brainbox here to work something out',
`Yes Mrs Watson', I say,
Oh Vera, please', and Paul', said his dad,
`Yes Vera, I'm on to it, I'll make him happy, I promise'.
I hugged her as Gav hugs Paul, then we swap.
Paul hugs me tight, a real bear hug, his hips pushed into mine. I felt something very familiar press into me. I now know where Gav gets it from. Come on, break it up you two' laughs Gav come on Dad I found him first'.
We separated and left, two lads, three holdalls, one flat.
We walk back and dump the bags. I phone Reg,
`You got wheels I can borrow', I say directly,
`Oh hi Reg how's it hanging?'
he says sarcastically,
`as it happens I have, it's that estate car, the seats fall back handily, it's on the books so you can drive it, I think I've got Gav on the insurance as well, yeah, he drove the van up once whilst you were fucking that banker',
`Cheers Reg', I'll come for it now if that's OK.
`Yeah the lads asleep, he's a right handful', he cackles,
`I don't want to know Reg, I'm on my way',
`make it an hour will ya? I'll make sure it's er empty of evidence and I'll check the tyres and I'll fill her up for ya, I can't do more than that can I?',
`Cheers Reg',
`You remember what I always say?',
`Yes Reg, you don't get anyfink for nothink', I say mocking his accent,
`Yes well you think on it, think what you two horny lads can do for your Uncle Reg, see you in an hour got it?',
`Yes Reg, see ya',
`Fuck you're a fast worker', says Gav.
`Yeah but I think Reg wants a bit of ass in exchange, you don't want that',
I didn't fucking well offer says Gav.
We unpack and barely fill the wardrobe, it's mostly Gavs, I think of my Boss suits, My tuxedo, my dozen shirts, all taken by the bailiffs by now I expect to help pay his debts.
`Anyway, don't forget I'm working tomorrow, I've to be up at five, the lads are picking me up at 6:30 for a 7:30 start, we're doing a fucking hotel rewire in Folkestone',
`I'll drive you, it's too early for London markets and I've no action in Singapore',
`Well that might as well have been Chinese to me, but yea a lift in Reg's motor will be sound, I'll ride back with the lads in the crew bus, save you a journey.
`Ooh that sounds interesting, 6 lads in a tight sweaty space',
`You must be joking, I'm the fittest one by miles, they're all married blokes, always bitching about not getting enough overtime, or not enough fanny or what the fucks she bought now',
He thinks for a moment, I say nothing, he recovers quickly, walking over to me, hugging me,
`You've done well partner. This morning I was a fucking wreck, and now we got a gaff, and a motor, even had time for a quick session, you're a fucking genius, Chas',
We kiss, deeply, I'm up for it, so is Gav,
I break away,
`Better see pervy Reg and get this car, fuck he owes me one',
`Be careful what you wish for',
We laugh and walk to Reg's place. My stiffie subsiding, so long as I didn't think about it, it pulsed whenever I did, on standby.
Reg is waiting, the motors outside, shiny, Reg comes out, the lad looking through the window, fuck is he still naked?
Reg dangles the keys, `what do you say to your Uncle Reg',
I say `Thanks Uncle Reg, thanks for fucking me rigid like that lad in there, thankyou for letting your mates fuck me raw, thanks for letting me sleep like a dog in the van, thanks for the early starts on eight quid an hour, no pay after half three, getting back at ten at night just in time for you to fuck my brains out, yeah thanks Reg. I think you owe me one, now and forever, fucking back off or I'll rip your mangy dick off and ram it down your throat'.
Reg laughed, `that's what just what I said to the wanker banker, if he ever hurt you, I don't think he'll be buying fennel and fucking pea sprouts in Borough or leering over my boys again',
`You said that?',
`Course, your fambly. All the rest was just business and to push you, to tell me to go do one, like you have now, I s'pose they'd call it tough love these days, anyway, she's yours, fill out the V5, I'll keep her on the insurance as it'll cost you two fit lads thousands',
He threw the keys and I caught them.
`Let me know when the warehouse is yours and you can get your fucking steel rods out of my hair',
Uncle Reg I'm cold' shouts the lad hiding his assets behind his cupped hands, come and warm me up inside Reg',
Reg turns and walks down the path, I hear him chase the lad, tickling him and lifting his arse up to his face to blow bubbles, as the front door slams.
She starts up, 'mmm a full tank' I say, we drive on, Gav opens the glovebox,
`Was Reg a copper?', I shake a no, puzzled,
`then why would he need the handcuffs, or this er buzzy thing and I don't think this is oil for a stiff lock' laughs Gav.
No that only works on stiff cocks, I think he left those in there for me' I said, I'd better take good care of them',
`Yes, constable' laughs Gav.
Monday I woke with Gav spooning me, I fucking love it, he's hard in my crack, I put my hands back and push and pull the skin up and down his shaft a few times, he nuzzles in my back, he wakes up.
`Morning glory?', I say,
Oh yeah every morning, every noon and night actually', he feels down to my crotch, yeah, the same as you',
He leaps up and puts the bedroom light on.
`Come on, time for the three esses, and a breakfast roll at Greggs, I'm going first',
`We'll see about that, sharing is caring, remember London',
`Oh I thought that was just Marks pervy thing?',
I shook my head.
`You dump and I'll shave, then swap and we can shower together',
`Deal',
We walked through absolutely boned up, just looking at Gav does it for me, and from his reaction it's the same for him.
I run the sink water hot and lather up for a wet shave, Gav is sorta stood in a squat over the toilet, his 8X2 causing him issues,
`Fuck I'm too hard to piss and I really need to'
`Let me help', I took his hand and pushed him in the shower and turned on the water, it sprayed cold all over him, doing the trick, as it ran hot I saw him piss a yellow stream into the drain. He ran out wet and sat on the toilet, blew wind and dropped his logs,
`Thanks Santa' he said, my face all soapy. I shaved, he flushed. I was OK, just the right side of chubby, interested but not raging. I did my business as Gav shaved, his dark black hair such a contrast to my fiery red, he finished. We kissed, tasting his soapy lips, his morning breath, my cock grazed his thigh as it rose up,
We showered, I remembered how Mark liked me to `tickle his trout'.
I got the gel on my fingertips and tickled his frenulum through his foreskin protecting his super sensitive crown, we kissed, one of his hands slowly pumping my shaft, his other pulling my face in close, his hand on the back of my neck, tickling my nape with his fingers in time with my tickling his trout, the shower water hot on my back.
I came first, pulsing out, coating his dick with blasts of my cum, he broke off kissing and we touched skulls as we looked down as he grunted and shot his load over my cock. We kissed again, tongues swapping, forcing in, a battle now. I broke off, wanting more than his tongue in my mouth. I took him in deep, I sucked my cum off his softening cock as his last pulses spurted dust and his legs went as he writhed. I stood and swallowed, he watched my adam's apple rise and fall as his thick cream ran down my throat, slowly like treacle.
Gav knelt and I fed my snake like cock into his mouth and he sucked off his load, then kissed his jizz out of my pubes, out of my groin, trapped right up against my nutsack and off of my nuts, licking, kissing, one last suck of my cock, bathed in his saliva in his hot mouth,
`clean as a whistle' he says, his eyes shining,
We have one last soap up, and dry briskly, standing side by side over the basin, to brush teeth. I've still not charged mine up, I open wide as he brushes my teeth, I try not to gag, he's getting chubby, so am I!
He dressed in his work gear. So fucking hot, the black and yellow work outfit suits him. He's got boring undies though, I can see him in a jock strap. I start to chub up,
`What's got you going?',
`Looking at you, imagining your arse in a jock underneath those moleskin pants and rigger boots',
Yeah tried em once when I had blue balls once from hockey. Dad said I should try a jock, he had one, an ancient thing, I had cold buns all day but you get a nice feeling up front though'.
We get in the car, and zoom off, `my fucking tools he shouts, they're at home'.
It's only a minute away, we pull up, the hall light is on Dad is waiting,
`here you go son',
he says and he hands the heavy boxes to Gav, shuts the door and turns the lights off.
`Thanks dad', he shouts at the closing door, a dog barks in early the dawn light. We drive off.
I get him to the hotel, on time, the taste of a Greggs bacon roll lingering. I drink the Greggs coffee in the car as I watch his arse climb up the ladder to fit an illuminated hotel sign. I watch him stretching, the ladder not quite long enough. I smile, remembering what he'd said once, it seems such a long time ago. The beautiful river view replaced by Rammo in winter.
I drive to Dover, to the PC superstore, I need a laptop and wireless printer. The guy in Curry's is on to me as I press a few keys on this laptop.
I let him chat me up, he's a real charmer, nice looking too in a preppy way, not unlike a younger Mark actually. I've seen him scan my trackies, looking for my outline, he's rabbiting on about the size of my hard drive, he's a bold one.
When I say it's for working from home he ticks me as a business customer and his spiel changes from internet and watching films to cyber security apps and sizes of things.
I'm sat now with him, Terry his badge says, in this business zone, in reality a section hidden from the glare of 100 TV screens by piles of boxes of dehumidifiers and air fryers.
He gets me a coffee, I watch his cute arse as he works the machine, I pour in the plastic milk from tiny plastic cups into the larger plastic cup and stir with the wooden stirrer, so much for net zero I think. We sit on the low back chairs around a coffee table. I relax a little, this feels more private, sat in an igloo of boxes with a good looking guy trying his best to make a sale on a Monday morning in Dover.
My mind wanders to visualise him an hour earlier, naked, knocking one out in his single bed, his puny arms tensed as he spurts up to his chin. I try to concentrate on what he's saying but he keeps flicking his bangs from his forehead, wrapping the errant strands around his ears. Like that Spanish Tennis player, oh Rafael, what I could do to you. Fuck I'm hard again.
Terry is going through the specs of two laptops, my mind wanders now to Gav, his tight buns up that ladder, imagining him naked, stretching up, my looking up at his arse, his balls peeping through the gap at the top of his legs, his buns stretching, his back muscles taut, his guns stretching. His 8 X 2 swaying deliciously as he moves, his bull balls sway a little, out of step.
I hear a waspy buzzing noise, it's Terry talking,
I come back to land, `so the bigger ram means you can have more apps open and the bigger hard drive means you won't run out of space as soon',
I look down, my legs are splayed and my wrist is resting top of my cock partially covering my embarrassment.
`So did you want the bigger hard one or the standard one?' Says the lad, pointing to two laptops in the brochure as he talks,
`I like a big one',
`And what about the Ram then?',
`No point choosing the big hard one with not enough Ram is there?', I say, not understanding a word but getting the drift.
Suppose not' he says, you'll notice the difference',
I check him over again, slowly, as he's completing the paperwork.
He needs a haircut, his wavy hair falling over his face, his annoying habit of pushing his bangs back behind his ears, his dark brown eyes, glinting, wet, his pupils open wide as he concentrates. His tongue protruding now and then wetting his thick boyish lips. His shoulders are slight, he's not a sporty one, more of a swot or a gamer.
His cheap white shirt is pulled tight across his frame, across his nips, tiny erect, the slight darkness of a circle around each one showing. He stretches, his eyes flash at me, he half smiles, his shirt opens a little by the placket and I see his flat abs and a flash of a wiry treasure trail. I look down, I see the unmistakable outline of a cock, he's hard, the soft curves caused no doubt from his underwear keeping him in check, unlike mine which is free to roam in its sofy fleecy warm kingdom as it's doing now, the anteater snout scouring for scraps as it roams the tented area made by my splayed legs.
He gets up quickly, his clipboard pressed in front of him, hiding his shame. No doubt pressing on his tip, giving him a buzz.
He looks down at me, my legs are pushed forward, splayed out, I'm looking at my phone, my cock plain to see, receeded now to a healthy chubb in a banana curve, my splaying has forced my trackies a bit low, revealing a line of flesh, showing my lower abs and the start of that all important V between my T shirt and the thick waistband.
`Er, I just need some details and i'll put the sale through, you can drive to the collection point at the back and I'll meet you',
He stares at my cock again, he looks away blushing a little as he notices me watching him. Busted.
I pay on my card, it all goes through.
I meet him at the back and he hands me the boxes, and the paperwork. The receipt is like tickertape,
hang onto that it's your warranty', oh and here's my card, and . .`,
I notice a change in his voice,
`And I could er, come to yours tonight to help you set it up if you like, I'd like that',
`Thanks Terry but I'm sure me and my bloke will suss it out, I've got your number though',
`Ring me, anytime',
I put the boxes in the car.
I get an urge to thank him properly,
`Terry' I call, He turns and walks back the few steps, I hold my arms out for a hug, he falls into them and I hold him tight, feeling his warmth, smelling his faint musk over his Axel deodorant. I can feel his spike, he can feel mine.
`Thanks again' I say,
End of the transaction. He smiles broadly, his face lit up and he runs back into the store like Bambi.
I sit in the car park and call the agents for progress on the warehouse purchase.
There's a hitch, something about money laundering regulations, They explain that it's unusual for someone so young to be able to pay outright for such a property and my claims that I earned it trading commodities was, in the words of their solicitors, `laughable', they say they don't consort with drug dealers and that there's considerable other interest in the property.
The ultimatum was for my solicitors to satisfy the regulations in three days or they'll market the property again.
I need proof that I've earned the money. The bank statements I gave the solicitors just show large deposits every month on the settlement date, that's when I transferred the money over from my dealing account to my personal bank account. I've no wage slips or proof of dealing, that was all done on line.
I call Gerry,
`Ah Charles, I thought I might hear from you, how are things?', he says calmly and professionally in his cut glass accent.
I switch to `London' mode,
`I'm well thank-you. Listen, Gerry I need a favour, I require proof of my deals, I can't get hold of Mark, I recall he set up the dealing account for me. I just need the monthly trading statements, could you log in please and email them across to me?',
`Ah Charles, that poses a problem, technically the trades made are the responsibility of the individual partners, and I can't access those accounts. I'm sure Marks bankruptcy receivers would be very interested indeed to hear of several million pounds linked to him.',
That was brilliant I thought, posing the risk I may lose it all so early on, I now know this is going to cost me.
You said technically' Gerry, what did you mean?',
`Ah dear boy, you are a smart one, The partners do have an administrator account and may be able to access the account in question'.
Great, now it's game on. He continued,
`However, this usually entails a fee, and in this particular case, the partners may wish for true recompense for the considerable cost of your training whilst you were indebentured to the practice'.
Good work Gerry, likening me to a Dickensian apprenticed clerk. Shackled.
`Keep in mind it was this personal, er intimate one to one training that enabled you to be so successful in your time trading. This commitment of course extends to the physical stocks I understand you are warehousing and those trades that are currently just entering the Suez Canal I believe',
He's outlined the scope now and hinted at my sexual relationship with Mark. Good work Gerry.
`So you do have live access to my trades and status?' I say,
Clearly' he chuckled. Might I propose a figure for a settlement, and I'll gladly download and email you your trading statements from your time with us',
`Might I?',
`You may', he said,
`How about £10k, then we are quits',
He laughed heartily `so you know about Mark and my little flutter, no dear boy, that was a personal bet, a mere piquancy to brighten up the day',
`The settlement I am proposing is of a much greater magnitude, I think that 50% of your trading surplus would be acceptable. I shall of course provide you with a statement on receipt detailing your trades and itemising the considerable tuition, monitoring and administrative support costs, and of course close your trading account',
`That's outrageous' I say, Gerry cuts in,
`Er no Charles, that's business. Listen to me very carefully; you're quite a talented trader, with a good eye but unfortunately for you, you lack the financial and personal gravitas required to gain a trading account, you pose too great a risk. I do see a future for you actually, once this bump in your road is settled. We could be very good together',
`I hear you. So will this bump be smoothed out for say 20% of my trading surplus and a call on my future trades at say 10%?
He paused, mulling my offer over, and continued,
`You are a clever chap. I like your idea of fixing my commission upfront. I could earn considerably more than the 50% over time with the right support',
`You know what Charles, I'm known as a generous man in my circle, I don't want to deprive a young upcoming trader a chance to earn a crust, but do need recompense. I'll accept your offer. I'll have my clerk draw up the agreement. I'll email you them through. Is it still er gingerbigboychas123@hotmail.com?',
`Ah thats my private one, let me email you my business address', I say,
`Indeed, dear boy, but from what I recall from your photographs its very accurate indeed. I'll await your new e-mail address and look forward to receiving the signed contract by return.',
He rang off.
So that's just cost me a million, plus another million in tax, but has secured my trading future.
A man cannot live on kitty alone.
TBC