Zack

Well, I went and fucked the pretty blond straight boy. (Conservative, Liberal party voting, property developer, in his fabulous Flinders Lane apartment, and yes, indeed, the enemy. And you’d think if I didn’t, in fact, have any morals about it, my dick would at least, but no he was up for it too) I smoked the crack pipe and inhaled the K. Lovely Zack, with the big (hairless) beefy butt and pink hole – a gym head, for sure, as I gaze down at his perfectly muscled body and pale skin. Actually, he said that he likes fucking girls and getting fucked by boys. So, as he said, I guess that makes him a dirty little bisexual.

I wanted to offer to be the second boy, when he's fucking a girl next. I've always thought that would be hot, but I don't know if I could really deal with having sex with a woman? Not sure. It's sounds hot to watch, though.

When I got there, he said, would you like a threesome. "A friend of mine wants to come and watch you fuck me. He's bi too, but he likes to watch boy’s get screwed."

He was straight on the phone. "Here, have another bump while we wait."

His mate is, predominantly, a straight wog boy with sexy legs and a nice thick cock. Franco. He's got trunks on as we take our first snort, I reach over and slide my hand into his trunks. He pulls the elastic band out. He's sticky and hot, his thick shaft swells as I rub it.

So, Zack lay on his blanket, like piggy in the middle, as his mate pounded him as he sucked me to hard.

However, as I tried to say to him on-line (I only went on line to see if I could track you down. And then stayed on-line as I wrote stuff.) I'm too shagged. And, I was too shagged. You know, when you can't feel your cock inside a guy’s arse and you just know it isn’t fully there? But, he did get a momentary stoop from me, before I felt my energy levels drop to 3%. (No sleep, too many drugs and no food does not a good fucker make) Nice arse, pink and round with a big crack. Nice body. Nice attitude. (to sex) Cute boy. 5.6 and compact, if muscled, just how I like them.

He had a great apartment, big rooms, and lots of space and, unlike my place, no tat. He said he wanted to organise an orgy in the room. The problem being, he said with an impish smile, I'd only want tops.

"You could fit a conga line of two hundred men in here," I said.

He smiled like I had read his mind. 

His arse was nice and open, as we rotated him around and I fucked his west hole.

The strangest thing about the whole evening (and I suppose, if this is the strangest, I haven't got much to complain about) was that he spoke at a, less than, audible whisper. I missed most of what he said. Just smiled my sweet smile instead, which may solve the immediate problem, but does not make for an interesting conversation.

Oh yes, he put his own porn video on for our pleasure. Made in Australia, or, In Australia, or something. He got fucked by everyone in the video.

We took turns in fucking him, as we watched the guys on the screen take turns in fucking him. We pulled in and out in sync with the film.

Anyway, my ears are humming loudly, my right eye is sore, as is my right arm, my head it just a little on the thick side and I do believe I have the shakes, hunger pangs and the screaming drys.

Lovely!

(6 Valtrex, 4000 milligrams of vitamin C and one bowl of muesli, does not constitute a diet for twenty-four hours)

I hope Tom is all right, it seems so unlike him to be incommunicado. I did ring D for an update, but apparently she had gone to bed. I am never sure if Lesley knows who I am, or perhaps she just doesn't like me. Or doesn't care, which may be closer to the truth.

Actually, I really feel like shit.

What day of the week would it be?

Happy New Year!