The Professionals Circuit Archive - Gay Sir Galahad	    Gay Sir
Galahad

 

by O Yardley

  
 *Party Spirit series #25: After "Cry Wolf"*

Felt a pang of something when they assigned Bodie to look after Susan
Grant--jealousy probably; I can be a bit mean-spirited at times and I said
a lot of scathing things, thinking she was just looking for attention and
not wanting her to get it from my fella--but I stopped worrying when I saw
him with her. Brotherly? Well, he put her own brother to shame. I told
Cowley I thought it was becoming a labour of love but that was in the
nature of a red- herring, plus it'd be expected he'd succumb. Bodie
though, he wasn't too pleased when he heard what I'd done.

"Wasn't necessary or true,'" he said and didn't seem to think it was
relevant when I pointed out we'd neither of us bothered much about either
factor in the past.

''Well, she thinks pretty highly of you,"" I said, winding him up by
repeating what she'd said to me earlier in the day while we were waiting
for Henry Laughlin to arrive at the family pad. "Said she was pleasantly
surprised to meet a perfect gentleman for a change. A sort of Sir Galahad
in black leather was the impression I got. Gay Sir Galahad, nice idea,
that." I sniggered.

He pulled over to let a theatrical removal van crawl by in the opposite
direction. ""Are you surprised I behaved myself, then?"

"Nah. Know you, don't I! Reckon she was a bit disappointed though.""

"Shows you don't know everything then. She thinks you're the goodlooking
one."

"Me? What a lady of taste and perception."

"Not all that perceptive."" A little smile lingered round his mouth. "She
had me down for a loner."

"And what did you say to that?" I asked, wondering what pitfalls this
sudden passion for the truth had opened up.

"I said 'possibly'," he shrugged, but with a twist to his lips and a gleam
in his eye that denied it. Wished we were somewhere less exposed than a
queue of traffic in the Brompton Road.

"Pity all our jobs can't end as well as this one," I mused as we inched
our way past Harrods. "'Family reunion and all that...very touching, don't
you think?""

"Well, one of us is touched," he told me unkindly. "We going to your place
or mine?"

"Mine. I've got some chops that need eating up. Sound OK?"

"Sounds fantastic. What brought on this flush of domesticity?"

"Acquiring a stomach on legs as a life partner. Makes a bloke think twice
on his way round the supermarket."

We spent a peaceful evening just pottering around the flat, sharing
cooking and washing up, watching a bit of TV. "Like an old married couple
already," I told him fondly and all he did was nod. 

Thought it would have got right up his nose but he looked as if he
likedit. Thought it was pretty good myself in fact. Having it all out in
the open waseverything I'd hoped it might be and I hadn't seen Bodie so
relaxed in ages. Was doing me good just watching him lope around the place
like a well-fed panther in it's lair. Caught him coming out of my bedroom
at one point,-- sidling out round the edge of the door in a highly
suspicious manner.

Asked him point-blank what he'd been up to, even stuck my head round to
'ave a butcher's but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary in there.

"Never you mind," he said, and he kissed me, exciting kisses that lanced
through my gut. He had the same look in his eyes as he'd had after he'd
fucked me clear into the carpet and I was looking forward to more of the
same before too long. 

"'S extraordinary, innit," I said, undressing to share a shower with him. 

" What is?" His gaze glanced dismissively off my midsection. 

"Looks pretty ordinary to me. Nothing to write home about."

"You mean you wouldn't've told your Aunt Gwyneth all about me if she'd
still been around?"

"Ah, that'd be different, but I wouldn't have told her in a letter, I'd've
arrived on her doorstep with you in tow, sweetie, all dolled up in baggy
shirts with big floppy bow ties and those cute trilby hats with the brims
that droop casually over one eye."

"And loud check suits like George Melly?" I said, needing to be quite sure
of the vision we'd present.

"Lavender and sage green for choice, and salmon pink with pale gray for
you," he agreed. "So what's extraordinary then?"

"You mean apart from your changing taste in clothes? Us. This. Settling
down together."

"Settling down? In our job?"

"Well, you know what I mean." I wanted to avoid talking about the job for
a while yet. "Us getting together at all, let alone..." I broke off,
inexplicably embarrassed.

"Let alone what? Hey! You've gone all pink. Never knew you could blush.
Thought you were totally shameless. Come on, what were you going to say?"

He'd have it out of me sooner or later; easier to say it straight off.
"Let alone falling in love with each other," I said, a little too loudly.

For a second he didn't react, then his face crumpled like a kid's who's
going to cry and he pulled me into his arms, burying his face in my neck.
We stood like that for a long time, feeling each other get hard. I slid a
hand between us, making the necessary adjustments for comfort and felt him
shiver as my fingers brushed him. Gave me an awesome feeling of power,
along with an overwhelming urge to indulge in all kinds of unspeakable,
erotic practices.

"Get in the shower," I mumbled, shoving him in that general direction.
"And give that soap here, I'm going to do all the washing you'll need
tonight."

I cleansed him inch by inch, soaping his genitals as well but not
lingering there as I wanted to make this last. Slid my fingers down the
sweet centre of him though and then inside, pushing gently in and out. Was
so turned on by him I nearly got sent over the edge just by the rush of
water over my prick. He moaned and gasped and generally carried on in a
most satisfying manner, and swore fluently and without repetition when I
refused to complete it there and then. 

"No," I said. "No. Turn the water off. Come out here where there's more
room."

"Tote that barge, lift that bale," he grumbled , but did as he was told.

I dried him as well, with long firm strokes of the towel, paying attention
to any creases and folds, and then made him dry me. It was steamy -warm in
the bathroom by now, the mirrors and chromium misted over; I dropped the
towels by my laundry basket and told him to turn and face me so I could
explore the front of his body with fingertips that barely skimmed the
surface, making him squirm and gasp and swear all over again, and then I
turned him and dealt with his back, down and around its strong muscled
breadth before I slipped to my knees and with my hands supporting his
thighs tongued my way down to his centre.

He gave a great cry, lurched as if he might fall, then spread his legs and
leant forward to support himself on the wall and give me access; parting
him with my palms, I feasted. His whole frame was trembling when I finally
drew back and he twisted, dropping to his knees in front of me to gather
me close and bury his face in my neck.

"Was it good?" I asked foolishly.

He made a funny little snuffling noise that tickled me. "I'll let you
know--when I've got something to compare it with," he said at last when I
prodded him.

"You mean..." Gave me no end of a thrill hearing I'd been first for him.

"Well, 's not exactly the sort of thing you ask a girl to do, is it."

I chuckled. "Never 'ad to ask the one who used to do it to me. Think she
'ad some sort of fetish."

He twisted his neck and looked up at me, one eyebrow on the tilt. "Reckon
you could develop the same fetish?"

"I'll work at it," I promised, cradling the weight of his balls lovingly
in my palm. "You wanna finish this here or get into bed?"

"Here, " he said on a growl , prodding me until I gave way and allowed him
room to place his hands onto the bathmat and to part his thighs in
invitation. "Come on!" he said impatiently, staring back over his
shoulder. "Come on. I want it. Want you. Now!"

I was too fired up to be particularly gentle but it was easy to tell that
didn't matter, the way he bucked and swore and pushed back to take more of
me in. Only trouble was it took no time at all before I had him over the
edge, taking me with him as I felt the contractions of his body about
mine. Sharp and sweet, like citrus, the sensations spiked through me,
fading, leaving me breathless and panting, dry-mouthed and euphoric.
Speechless.

Some minutes later I became aware that my backside was about to make a
closer acquaintance with the radiator than I really appreciated.

"'S all right for you," he complained when I asked him to shift, "but I've
got me head trapped under the bog."

"Have to get Cowley to move us somewhere with a bigger bathroom," I
suggested, extricating my right leg from its cosy nest under the towel
rail.

"Like to see you explain why."

I scrambled to my knees and liberated a handful of bog-roll for mopping
purposes. "Nah, leave all the sweet talk to you, won't I."

"Probably, yeah." paused to look up at him. "Never send a boy to do a
man's job . . . "

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"That's only, because you're too mean to buy him a drink now and again,"
he said, deliberately provocative. I snorted. "What are we talking, about
Cowley for anyway?" he added. "Guaranteed to put me off my stroke, that,
is." 

But he knew as well as, I did, why the Old Man was on my mind. 

Security is a sensitive area, at the best of, times and the sort of
relationship we were engaged in was about as popular as gonorrhea in a
nunnery and if we were ever found out we'd be for the high jump PDQ. And I
didn't see how it wouldn't eventually come to someone's attention that
there were no more girls in our lives and they'd add two and two and come
up with-us bedding-one another...and no one was going to like us, least of
all Cowley. 

I put this haltingly into words as we made for the bedroom and he pulled a
face, knowing I was right. "But do we have to talk about it now? "

"Don't need to talk about it at all, just decide when and where...and who
tells him." His eyes rolled upwards. "And it's no good asking Him for help
either. Doubt if He's on speaking terms with either of us any more."

He paused in folding back the cover. "Does that bother you?"

"What--God and all that? Nah, not 'specially. What we do's our own affair,
innit. Doesn't hurt anyone else...and it sure as hell doesn't hurt either
of us. Best thing that's ever happened in my life, you are. Beats being
picked for the school football team any day."

"You mean that?"

I surveyed him with due solemnity. "Yeah. Are you getting into bed or
trying to break the world record for standing on one leg?"

Scornful looks seemed to be in fashion; I got another as he climbed in
beside me. 

"You know something?" I asked, snuggling up.

"No, what?"

"You've got a gorgeous backside. Gorgeous everywhere, of course..."

"Of course!"

"...but that's your most appealing bit."

"Go on!" He nibbled my ear. "You only say that 'cause I let you have it
nowadays."

"Could 'ave something to do with it," I conceded, "but not everything."

"So we're going to tell Cowley are we?"

"Don't want to," I admitted, "but think we've got to, don't you?" "Yeah.
'f it was me I'd be furious finding out the hard way. Not that I reckon
we're blackmailable, do you? I mean, as far as I'm concerned the whole
bloody world can know and welcome to it . "

That went for me too. Now we just had to hope Cowley'd see it our way.

I stretched out happily; everything was all right with a world that had
Bodie and bed in it, provided the former was in the latter along with me
and...my right foot touched something unidentified and I let out a yelp
and shot up the bed. Bodie rolled onto his back.

"What 's up now?"

"Something...down the bottom of the bed," I gabbled. "Felt it with my big
toe. Something...furry! Ugh!"

"Furry? You got mice in here then?"

"Not that I know of. Shift your arse, I want to lift the bedclothes.

Oh Christ! What the hell is it?"

'It' was black and leggy and huge - and I approached it gingerly, grabbing
hold of it by one floppy limb and pulling it out into the light. Bodie
choked, gurgled, banged the pillow a few times and broke into loud
giggles.

"That funny?" I asked, not seeing the joke myself. I swung my trophy over
his nose and watched his eyes cross trying to focus.

"You...your face," he gurgled. "Looked as though you'd found something
that'd died.."

"There might be something dead in my bed any minute now," I announced
airily, "But it won't 'ave eight legs, only two...and a beautiful bum,
firm and springy, and all of a sudden dead boring'll take on a whole new
meaning..."

"Will you shut up, you disgusting little bugger. And stop waving that
bloody thing about. You'll 'ave its leg off any second."

"Pal of yours is it? Where did you get it?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you, Mr. Innocent. Where did you get it?"

"Relieved Susan of its presence. That was one of the pleasanter little
tricks they played on her."

"Gay Sir Galahad rides again. 's very sweet, that, you know, you loving me
enough to come all brotherly over a goodlooking bird."

His eyes softened. I was willing to bet not a lot of people had seen Bodie
look at them like that, not more than one or two of his birds at most.

"Love you better than anyone, Ray Doyle, and don't you ever forget it."

"I'll do me best," I said doubtfully, "but d'you think you could..."

"Think I could what?"

I gave him a look from under my eyelashes. "Remind me from time to time?"

So he set about doing just that.

-- THE END --

*Excerpt from "Bodie's Book of Words to Live By" - "I'm a luxury few can
afford."*

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