Amongst my friends, we have an understanding that if any of us have a thing with a guy - anything more than a one night stand - then that guy then becomes off limits for the rest of the group, even after the friend and the guy inevitably break up.
It was just how we all felt about it. If you felt something special for a guy, then that remained yours. We all felt there were always other guys to choose from. None of us wanted to see our ex's dating our friends.
It's called being put in the back paddock.
It's only ever called for an interpretation on the rules, I think only once. And then Shane went ahead with it anyway and Tom was, as everyone agreed, rightly pissed off.
Shane wants wogboy, after Matt. Stuart is just too Anglo Saxon for him, now. All I want is Italian or Greek, is that bad, he asked me. That dark, hairy, attitude, sex, eyes, cock that wogboys have.
Stuart was nice.
Yes, he was nice. Of course, he was nice... but?
Smiley. Handsome.
I just wasn't into the blond hair. Shane grinned. I don't think I want nice.
I thought about my thought of last Saturday, about Stuart dropping in with a joint, when I didn't have any, when Shane was in Adelaide. After I got pot, that thought turned into Stuart popping around Saturday night, getting us both stoned and me playing with his big cock in front of the open fire. It crossed my mind to confess it to Shane... every warning filter in my head went off ,directly after that thought.
Besides, you and I can't afford to have someone bringing pot around all the time, said Shane. Suddenly, we were back up to four nights a week. It just couldn't continue.
I wasn't serious, about Stuart, but apparently, hung like horse. I was surprised I could whack off over that image, the flickering firelight on his unbuttoned jeans, shirt pulled up to his nipples, considering his status - unquestionable back paddock status. But you know, a boy gets to thinking, home alone on a Saturday night, stoned.
And we keep fucking bareback, serodiscordant.
Eventually, that has the potential to lead to tears, no matter what everyone may think now.
Exactly. I made the right decision.
I got my car back, it cost me $1200. Everything fixed, except the driver's side window, they couldn’t get the part in time. It's not the switch, but the relay hidden inside the door. So, apparently, my window doesn’t work at all, any more, until the next service.
"It used to work... intermittently..."
"It did?" said the cute wog mechanic, looking up at me from refitting the door trim. Dazzling eyes, big lips, curved hips. I want to lick you. I think my lips just naturally perched.
Just when I thought everything was going to be in working order. How annoying.
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