Kenny Ch. 02

I heard Kenny's sharp intake of breath beside me.

Jed's pupils were so dilated they were almost totally black, and he screwed his eyes up as he tried to focus on us. The stench of booze and vomit coming from him was indescribable.

"Whass a'marrer?" he repeated drunkenly. He was so far gone, and so stoned out of his gourd he could hardly put two words together.

"Fuck off!" he slurred. Spittle dripped from his mouth. "Tryin' a sleep here."

His eyes narrowed suddenly and he seemed to pull himself together a bit.

"Oh, I ge' it! You wanna buy? Is tha' it? Wha' 'ooo want? I got good stuff!"

He fumbled around his coat, patting it absently. As he touched one pocket I distinctly saw the outline of something in the pocket.

This was Jed, who, according to Kenny, always carried a gun.

Suddenly reminded that he had one, Jed grinned drunkenly at us.

"Not that," he mumbled. "Thass mine! Might need that!" He grinned again, showing his black, broken teeth.

The brief period of concentration lapsed, and he continued to fumble at his coat, mumbling and muttering incoherently as he did so.

"We don't want anything from you," I said coldly.

"No, 'onestly," Jed pleaded, either not hearing my words or ignoring them. "Got really good stash here somewhere..." He trailed off and his hand, delving into an inside pocket, withdrew what looked like a brown leather wallet.

"No, 's not it," he muttered. He dropped the wallet onto the ground and his hand flopped onto his stomach as he relapsed into his drunken and drug-fuelled stupor. On his wrist was a watch, and bending down myself to have a closer look, I could see it was a Patek Philippe, worth tens of thousands of pounds.

Using my handkerchief, I carefully flipped open the wallet. It was bulging with notes. Inside the cover was a driving licence with a photograph, and I could just make out a name, - Manzi.

Jed had evidently rolled a recent trick, relieving Mr Manzi of his wallet and probably his watch. A favourite habit of some rentboys, Kenny had told me, although he'd sworn to me that he'd never done it himself. He had remained silent up to this point, but now I heard him exclaim quietly.

"Christ!" he murmured. "I can't believe it! Look at him! What has he become? God!"

I looked at him and he was as white as a sheet, staring down at Jed.

"Dear God!" he said hollowly. "I could have ended up like that!"

He looked at me, and I saw a tear roll from one eye down his cheek. "I knew I owed you a lot, Des, but Christ! I never realised just how much!" He continued to stare at the figure in the doorway.

I straightened up and glanced round the square. There were a few other people about, but none near us, and probably not near enough to realise there was a figure on the ground. I am an honest man. I don't commit crimes of any sort, at least not deliberately. But what I was contemplating now was certainly not legal. I looked at Kenny, who sensed my gaze on him. He wiped at his cheek and looked at me again.

"Should we do something? Call an ambulance?" He pulled his phone from his pocket, but I put my hand on his arm.

"If we do, it won't be from that phone," I said decisively.

I glanced round again. And made a decision.

Reaching down, again using my handkerchief, - I didn't want there to be any chance of leaving a fingerprint - I carefully extracted three fifty pound notes from Mr Manzi's wallet. I left the wallet where it had fallen and pocketed the notes.

"Let's go," I told Kenny.

He looked at me blankly. "We're just going to leave him?" he asked disbelievingly.

"No, we're not," I said. "Come on."

We left Jed lying in his semi-conscious state and crossed the pedestrian square to some phone booths. There, I dialled the emergency services, told them there was a figure in a doorway and where to find it, and suggested they send the police and an ambulance. I hung up without giving any details of myself and we hurried to the edge of the square nearest home.

"Wait," I said to Kenny, and we paused in the shadows of a building at the corner of the square and waited.

It was only a few minutes before a police car, its blues rotating furiously, appeared at the emergency entrance to the precinct and drew to a halt in front of the shop. It obscured our view of Jed, but I'd seen enough, anyway.

"Time to go," I said. I heard the sound of an ambulance siren approaching as we hurried away into the gloom of the evening and headed home.

***** *

Several more weeks passed. The date of Kenny's theory test came and he passed with flying colours. A 99% pass because he'd made only one mistake. The date of his practical test loomed in a week's time. Summer had become Autumn. Chillier evenings. Our time together was as good, as fresh, and our sex as exhilarating, as it had been at the start. We'd been together now for a few months. Kenny had asked what I thought would happen to Jed, when we'd reached home that evening, - the whole outing slightly marred by the discovery of the rentboy in the doorway, but the sexual highs and outstanding orgasms we'd both had in the restaurant a subject for remembrance and light-hearted discussion for days afterwards.

I'd told him that I'd considered what to do about Jed, and decided to recoup the fifty pounds he taken from Kenny's mum, with interest, and call the emergency services.

"With that gun in his pocket, Mr Manzi's wallet and presumably his watch too, he will have a hard time explaining things," I'd told Kenny. "And if he was carrying any drugs on his person, especially any hard stuff, I suspect Jed will be going away for quite a time. And if he was seriously ill from the booze and drugs, the ambulance would have taken him to hospital first, giving the police time to find Mr Manzi and make their enquiries. If Mr Manzi complained there was money missing from the wallet, they would assume Jed had spent it on booze or drugs. All things considered, it seemed the best thing to do," I finished, and Kenny had nodded thoughtfully.

And then it was time for me suck chocolate sauce from his pants and cock, and for Kenny to suck mango juice from mine.

Kenny's driving test was on a Friday at 11 o'clock, and he'd invited his mum to come and visit us for a couple of days. She had declined a previous invitation -- too soon, I suspected -- but this time she said she'd be pleased to visit and arranged to arrive on the Friday at about 2 o'clock. This meant that Kenny could meet her at the station and they would have all afternoon together to talk, shop or do whatever. Their private time, and I begrudged them not one second of it. We were going to eat out on both the Friday and Saturday evenings, - Mrs Noble was returning home on the Sunday - and I deliberately stayed a bit late at work to give them as much time as possible together without me. Kenny would be finished with his test just before noon, and although my plans wouldn't change whether he passed or failed I couldn't help feeling a little wound up as the hour approached. Five minutes before twelve, my phone rang.

"YES!" came the excited shout down the phone and I was sure other people in the office must have heard it.

I listened to his excited recounting of the test, and told him to enjoy the afternoon with his mum. He rang off, thanking me effusively for the lessons and my constant care for him.

I was delighted for him, both passing the test and having some time with his mum, and, I reflected as I hurried out into the town centre on an important errand, there was no doubt in my mind that I had come to love Kenny as much as any heterosexual male loving a female partner.

We had a table reserved for 8 o'clock, but I didn't arrive home till seven, giving me just enough time to shower and change before we went out. Mrs Noble seemed very happy to be with Kenny and genuinely pleased to see me again. They hadn't done any shopping, they were saving that for the Saturday, but they had spent an enjoyable Friday afternoon partly in town and partly at home. We set off for the restaurant, not the one with the screens, that was going to be a strict secret for me and Kenny alone, but to another that we used from time to time.

Shown to our table, Kenny and his mum paused as they saw the champagne in its ice bucket waiting beside the table. Kenny eyed me suspiciously.

"You've done it again, haven't you?" he queried. "Quietly set up a surprise behind my back?"

"If it was in front of your back, it wouldn't be a surprise," Mrs Noble observed with a smile.

"Good point," Kenny acknowledged.

The champagne was duly opened and served and his mum and I toasted his success on his driving test and wished him safe and happy motoring in the future. We sipped at the drinks for a while and chatted amiably. Mrs Noble seemed quite relaxed in my presence, something for which I was extremely grateful, given her initial outburst on seeing me for the first time months ago. Dinner orders were placed, the champagne bottle gradually emptied, and starters served.

"What are you grinning about?" Kenny asked me suddenly.

"Oh, nothing," I said, and managed to wink at Mrs Noble without Kenny seeing.

"Hmmmph!" was his only rejoinder.

He knows me so well, I thought affectionately. It's becoming harder to surprise him without him realising it in advance.

Seeing the champagne bottle upside down in the ice bucket, the wine waiter came to ask if we'd like another drink before our main course. We ordered, whisky for me, vodka for Kenny and a sherry for his mum, and these duly arrived and were dispatched without delay.

The time had come, I thought with pleasurable anticipation, for the fruits of my hurried errand earlier in the day to become apparent. The waiter brought my meal, and Kenny's mum's. We politely waited for him to return with Kenny's meal before we started our own. He arrived bearing a silver salver on top of which was a domed silver cover.

"Oh, you're getting the special treatment," Mrs Noble remarked. "That's nice."

The waiter placed the salver in front of Kenny and whisked off the cover;- to reveal a fat, white envelope lying on the salver. Nothing else. No dinner.

Kenny looked at it, then me, then his mum.

"What is this?" he enquired. "A joke? No!" His eyes narrowed as he looked at me again. "It's you, isn't it Desi? What have you done this time?"

Mrs Noble leaned towards her son and gestured at the envelope.

"If you don't want to eat it," she suggested in a whisper, "why don't you open it? It has your name on it."

Sure enough, the words Kenneth Noble Esquire were handwritten in calligraphy across the envelope.

"Alright. What is it, mum? You tell me, 'cause I know Desi won't."

Mrs Noble threw up her hands.

"Kenny, I promise you I have no idea what it is," she averred. "I really don't. Whatever it is, it's a surprise for me as much as you."

Not true, although she wasn't aware of the exact contents.

Kenny looked at the envelope, then at me again. He shook his head slowly.

"One day, Des, I am going to surprise you, the way you constantly arrange these surprises for me!"

Gingerly, as if it might bite him, he picked up the envelope. It wasn't sealed, the flap was just tucked inside, and he flicked it open and withdrew the contents. He stared at them for a moment then let them fall onto the salver and leaned back in his chair.

"You're joking!" he murmured.

I had signalled our waiter who, following my earlier instructions, was hovering close by, and he nodded and hurried off to the kitchen, returning in a few moments with Kenny's proper dinner. Kenny picked up the papers and envelope as the waiter removed the salver and placed the meal on the table in its place.

"We should eat," I suggested, "before your mum's, and my, dinners get cold."

Kenny nodded, but he made no move to pick up his knife and fork, he was sifting through the contents of the envelope, a glazed look in his eyes.

"Any chance we can share the secret?" his mum enquired between mouthfuls of pork medallions.

"Have a look," Kenny offered and gave her the papers.

Mrs Noble took only seconds to peruse the papers and turned to me with a smile.

"Airline ticket, hotel reservation...that's wonderful!" she exclaimed. "A week's holiday in Amsterdam starting on Monday! Kenny, you'll love it, I'm sure! Derek, that's so nice of you! This is a reward for passing his driving test, I assume?"

"Well," I said. "Yes it is, now. If by chance he hadn't passed, it would have been a sort of commiseration break. But, as it is, it's going to be a celebration holiday, as you so rightly say."

Kenny had started on his meal and he kept glancing at me.

"Desi, I don't know what to say. How could I ever, possibly, thank you, not only for the driving lessons and now this holiday, but for everything you've done for me since I met you."

"Kenny, as long as you're happy," I answered him, "as long as you're content with your life here, with me, then that's all the thanks I need. And I enjoy arranging these little surprises for you."

"More than happy," Kenny said softly. "Don't know what word to use."

Mrs Noble put her hand on my arm to stop me eating.

"I echo that sentiment, Derek," she said quietly and earnestly. "I can see that you mean all the world to my son, and that he means all the world to you. To know that he's in good hands and someone is looking after him, as you are, makes me very, very happy indeed."

She released my arm, picked up her fork then paused and let out a chuckle.

"I've just made a pun, haven't I?" she laughed. "I never thought I would be able to make a joke or a pun like that. But... 'in good hands'?... given how the two of you are together..."

And Mrs Noble, the woman who had slapped me hard across the face as soon as she had set eyes on me, insulted me and spent hours crying about my association with her son, collapsed into a fit of the giggles.

After that, the evening flew by, gentle, relaxed, amusing, considerably alcoholic, and I knew that I would never have to worry about Mrs Noble's attitude again.

At one point, Kenny excused himself to go to the men's room. If there was a disadvantage to having his mum around, and it wasn't really a disadvantage, just a pause in our everyday life, it was that we obviously had to be clean and showered. If we had been near her in our usual clothes the aromas wafting from us both would have put paid to any understanding from her. No, when she came to visit, Kenny and I and all our clothes had to be squeaky clean.

As soon as he left the table Mrs Noble turned to me.

Her eyes sparkled.

"He still doesn't know, does he? He has no idea?"

I shook my head. "No, he doesn't but he will know as soon as we come back from Amsterdam."

"And this little holiday is the second of the three things you told me about when -" she paused for a brief moment, " --when I was so unforgivably rude and insulting to you months ago."

I laid my hand on hers.

"Past times, Mrs Noble, past times. Gone and forgotten. But yes, you're right."

"First the driving lessons and the test," she recounted, ticking them off on her fingers, " then a holiday abroad somewhere, and the third will be --"

"Exactly," I interrupted her. I glanced around but Kenny was still out of sight. "Still secret for a week or two more. And in fact there will be a little extra something when we come back."

I whispered what it was and she gazed at me, shaking her head gently.

Finally she relaxed in her chair. "You've done so very, very much for him," she sighed. She stared at the table. "I realise that you probably saved him from -- from -- many nasty things," she finished.

"Quite possibly," I agreed softly. "And I've enjoyed every minute of it, and enjoyed seeing the delight in him when I've been able to do something nice."

She nodded.

"By the way," I added, "I have something for you."

I reached into my pocket and withdrew three fifty pound notes. "You recall that you had to give that boy money to find out where Kenny was?"

She was already nodding again.

"Well, we bumped into him not so long ago," (not entirely untrue) "- and -um- as luck would have it he was able to give it back with interest." (Also not a complete lie).

I pressed the notes into her hand.

"Enjoy a bit of shopping or a matinee, or something, tomorrow," I suggested. She regarded me doubtfully.

"I assure you, that isn't from me," I said. "That came from the same boy you paid."

(Alright then. Half a lie).

Kenny's mum nodded and slipped the money into her purse. "Thank you Derek. Kenny and I will find something to enjoy ourselves with tomorrow."

I explained briefly how I'd rushed out at lunch time from the office, booked the trip to Amsterdam and set things up at the restaurant.

Mrs Noble smiled knowingly.

"And I'll bet setting it all up gave you almost as much satisfaction as it gave Kenny to receive it," she suggested.

I grinned and shrugged.

"You're not wrong," I admitted, and then our conversation had to stop as Kenny returned.

**** *

We arrived at Amsterdam's Schipol airport at 12.15 on the Monday. Kenny was as excited as I had ever seen him. Although he had his own passport I knew that it had only been used for two high school trips, and by coach, at that. He'd seen Normandy and the Somme battlefields with his school, but he had never travelled by plane, anywhere.

Checking in, baggage handling, security and boarding the plane were completely new experiences for him and he revelled in them. His amazement intensified when we were met at Schipol by the Hotel Schiller's courtesy car which whisked us to Rembrandtplein where the hotel was situated. The four star hotel was not far from Dam Square and Damrak, the very centre of the city. It was also not far from Amsterdam's famous Red Light District. I'd booked a large suite, insisting on a double bed, with a balcony view over the canals below us.

When Kenny had spotted the double bed, he went a bit red in the face and looked at me.

"Desi, what on earth will the hotel think, you and me in one room with a double bed?"

"In this city, and particularly this area," I said to him, "the hotel and its staff won't bat an eye!"

Kenny stayed for some time on the balcony just watching the people strolling about, the glass covered canal tour boats cruising slowly along, and the outside cafes and bistros that abound there.

I, in the meantime, had unpacked our case and, apart from our personal, special clothes, had put things away in cupboards and drawers. The personal stuff stayed locked in the suitcase.

It had been a bit of a job deciding what we could bring and what should be left behind. There was always the danger of a customs spot check, even in the green channel at either airport, and regretfully, apart from our usual, very favourite open fly pants, carefully wrapped inside other clothes, we left our other used clothes at home. But there were still silk and satin pants, and a miniskirt each, and we'd brought our cum filled tracksuit bottoms as well. There was a noticeable stain on the front of each, where our huge eruptions of cum had dried into the cotton, not to mention chocolate and mango. I strolled onto the balcony and put my hand on his beautifully rounded ass cheeks, firm beneath the jeans he had travelled in.

"Are we going to do a boat tour?" he asked eagerly.

"We're going to do everything we can," I assured him, "but right now, there's something else I want to do.

He turned to me and smiled shyly.

"Are we going to suck and fuck?" he asked.

Tempting as it was to undo his jeans and let them drop here, on the balcony, I gently pulled him into the room and he sank back onto the bed. I pulled off his shoes and unzipped his jeans, feeling the bulge of his cock inside them. Slowly I pulled them down and he kicked free of them. He was wearing stretch hipster satin pants, and the outline of his cock was clear beneath them, curled against his belly. I leant over him and kissed it, running my tongue over the fabric and over his thighs, savouring the warm flesh beneath my tongue and enjoying the smell of his warm skin. His cock had started to harden and so I licked it some more until it was completely erect, the tip of his helmet just emerging from the top of the stretchy material. I licked that and felt it strain against my tongue. I took it into my mouth and began to suck him, enjoying, as I had so many times before, the taste of his hot rod in my mouth. My hand cupped his balls and he pushed upwards off the bed, filling my mouth with that hard, hot gorgeous length of cock.