As the Day Drifts, So Does My Mind

It's funny, James is an Aussie and Mitchel is Malaysian. He just text, he's moved into the next suburb. I told him I can't remember what he looks like.

Not my usual types. Normally, I'm a wogboy man through and through.

I'm in bed already. I've had a lot of late nights just lately. The sun is just dropping far down in the west, the room is fuzzy with light, the day on the turn to night. Warm, long summer nights, I've missed them.

I've had a lot of sex with a lot of hot wog boys, I'm thinking, as I recline under my doona in front of the teev.

Michael - gorgeous Greek pup with come to bed eyes. What can I say, bluntly? The arse on that boy had to be ridden to be believed.

Lee - pulling down his jeans that first night, to show his thick hairy Greek boy legs. And how he filled out those blue and white striped jocks!

Lauri - okay, let's say it - apart from his Italian beauty, his heart, his soul, his naughtiness, dirty mind, intellect, whit - never again will I ever see a more beautiful cock. Big, thick all the way along, uncut.

Maurice - beautiful smile, beautiful eyes, loved to be kissed as he got screwed. But Italian boys do.

Carmine - buffed Italian gym boy, open heart, dirty mind, shaved hairy chest. Always wanted to play with another so we could both top. Those dirty Sunday morning calls, Come over, we can tandem. I miss them.

Dean - smouldering good looks, took my breath away every time I saw him. A little flabby, puppy fat, the most timid in the cot. Gentle. Tactile. A passionate kisser with the most beautiful Italian-boy come to bed eyes.

Manny - well, I think I've spoken about him at length. Sexy Greek boy, who was the best kisser out of all of them.

Greek boys are sweeter than Italian boys, I've found.

Funny the things you think, hey, as the sun goes down. As the day folds away into the black. As Missy purrs loudly from the corner of the bed. As I puff the last on the j.

That's not counting casual sex, either. Although, Lauri is the only one who was my boyfriend.

Dancing at the Albury that Mardi Gras. He was in front of me, I had my arms around him. He had on a blue, sleevless, checked shirt. It was Sunday night after the party, we were elegantly wasted. We were floating to the music, I was chewing gently on his neck. I can still remember the way he smells, tastes. He was warm, I can still feel him in my arms.

This drunk chick was suddenly beside us, slurring, loudly. I think we jumped.

"You're gorgeous!" Lauri was in front. "You are fucking gorgeous!" She was dazzled by his brilliant green eyes. "Are you angels, sent down from heaven?" I told you she was drunk.