Saturday, December 04, 2004

We all Looked So Happy and Relaxed





I woke up at 3pm. As you do.

Tom and Jason had slept in Jason’s van. They’d cooked when the sun came up, but were good natured about it. It never affects me, sleep stories. I can sleep anywhere, any time, any how. I think I glaze over when people talk about sleep stories.

I went to the screening of all the VCA’s student films. They all kind of blurred into one. Only Aby’s stood out.

The first time at Fed Square for me. There is nothing soft about that place. Except Rob’s hairy arse. Luke caught me looking, as Rob bent over. We both smiled. Luke’s so funny when he laughs in complicity.

Sitting in the courtyard around the big giant thimble tables and chairs was kind of cool. It was a beautiful night. People were coming and going from where we were and across the road at The Forum. We all looked so happy and relaxed.

The lights changed colour under the big, ugly, aluminium canopy, purple, blue and green. We drank beer and strawberry daiquiris.

I was fazed. We were fazed. We made it through the screening and socialising until 11pm. It was a beautiful night; warm and semi-barmy all at the same time. It was gorgeous sitting out side.

I came home and smoked eight joints and fell asleep. 


Friday, December 03, 2004

Thursday, December 02, 2004

Tradies

I was out having a cigarette, in the morning, when I saw a group of tradies also having a cigarette on the bottom level, down the stairs.

The reason I noticed was because the cutest one seemed to be intent on staring at me. Then I noticed the bulge in his blue work pants... and he kept on staring. So I gazed at his bulge - not that I thought he could see where my eyes were, actually, looking, as he was too far away. But he kept staring and so did I. Just when I thought that it was ridiculous and all in my own head, as his two mates were looking the other way, he reached down and gave the, not inconsequential, bulge in his pants a good squeeze, all the time staring back at me.

As my nerves began to click with excitement, his friends tapped him on the shoulder and they headed back inside.


Tuesday, November 30, 2004






The Hump Years

From teenagers to forty something,

it's like a need, an addiction.

Skin on skin.

It does get in.


Hot





It's hot. Sticky. Sweaty. Tropical. Hot.

Hot, so I sweated all day yesterday, even my office air-conditioning didn't seem to help. Hot, so that I'm covered in perspiration by the time I have walked to work. Hot, so that I breath in solidifying air. Uncomfortable, ill at ease hot. Suddenly hot. Oppressively hot. Hot so I hate. Hot so I over heat.

I envied all the girls in their summer frocks, as I walk home from work. One slip of material open at both ends, how nice that would have been, how nice it looked. No knickers, I reckon, for that nearly naked in the heat kind of feel.

Rob said he'd worn a dress in his time, in the heat. I imagined him knickerless, at his suggestion of wearing a dress. Apparently, it's impressive, so Ab tells me. Now, if she doesn't want me to visualise Rob in that way she shouldn't tell me? Right? Right. And, of course, I don't, won't imagine that at all, (big smile) he is Ab's boyfriend, after all. Gorgeous Rob.

It's 8am and I've got to go out into it to get to work. Bugger! At leased it gets me out of the hot house, I guess. I'd rather a kaftan and some sandles, perhaps a parasol? Can you imagine?


My house would make a great parasol, for the day.

Oh grrrr, it's 8.10. Got to go.

Wish me luck

so I don't die of boredom, more dangerous than heat stroke! I'll be staring a spreadsheets all day.

Bring on the Xmas break!

New Year

another one gone.

Whoosh!


Monday, November 29, 2004

Love Is The Only Law





Love is the only law.

Graffiti scrawled on the front of the old post office in Gertrude Street. I look at it each morning and it makes me think if there are, indeed, any other all-empowering laws, I can't think of them.

How apt, I thought, when I stopped this morning and thought about it for a moment.

To love. To be loved. To love someone over and above anything else. Good times come and go, opportunities ebb and flow, but the love of another person is precious and should be nurtured.


Sunday, November 28, 2004

 



As the Years Tumble Away

The long lunch of middle-age, it should be a time of happiness, so I'm told. Centred, life begins at... not the extended angst of pushing back desert continuously, indefinitely delaying coffee, cheese and death. Worrying where it is all going to lead. Checking for grey hair. Bulging veins. Despair.

There are no advantages to ageing, no matter what the aged might tell you. Eventual, cholesterol, excess body fat, loss of bone density, falling hair, failing hearing, brain to dust.

I asked a sprightly eighty-something what her secret was. "I never stopped dancing," she said, with a sparkle in her eye. "And I never stopped eating." She smiled. There was that sparkle again. "Good food, of course."

"Of course," I said.

She took my arm. "I'd so love to dance," she said.

"I'd be delighted," I said.

She gazed up at me. "With a handsome young man."

All relative, I thought.

We glided onto the parquetry with a swirl.


This and That





I was texting Jill for lunch, her idea was St Kilda, I'm sure. 

I replied for her to come to Bolago. 

I was waiting for her reply when I got a voice message. The sounds of "Love really hurts without you," greeted me and then Manny's sexy voice. He said it was a great song and he'd just got out of the shower and was standing there in a towel, dripping, drying himself.

Jill didn't answer. How rude, I thought. Not even a "no thank you." And from a Fintona Educated girl, I ask you.


I've been avoiding Manny, waiting for myself to heal from my speed induced wank marathon, on Tuesday. Well, I can't exactly have sex with him with a scabby cock. Apart from the niceties, there is his HIV status to think about.

He wanted me to go over and sleep with him on Friday night. I so wanted to, but I couldn't.

We've only slept together a few times. All night, wake up in the morning, sleep together. We both like our own beds. We both like our own space in the morning. We're both stubborn.

Only once, as Manny likes to say.


13.20 - I was lying in the back room snoozing, having lovely dreams, about dark alleys and black cats and young men in sharp suits with pale complexions and wondrous beauty, when Mark's voice woke me.

"I tell you one thing that I want to discuss and you come out with all this vitriol that you've stored, just for such occasions. You must think, Oh Mark's wanting to discuss something, oh here's a defence and then you bash, bash, bash me over the head with it until I shut up," yelled Mark. Then the door slammed and all was quiet.

Mark and Luke are having a slow grind relationship disintegration. Mark and I discussed it this morning before Luke was awake. Mark says he feels as though he just doesn't count in Luke's life any more. Luke does things and makes decisions as though Mark isn't even a part of his life.

More arguing ensued. Something about Luke showing his arse to some guy. Questions of why that person was so important to Luke. Something about Mark trying to tell Luke how he felt. Something about Luke saving up bombshells for just such occasions. Both of them claiming they tell the other how they feel. Counter claims from Luke about Mark lending someone some money without telling him. More slamming doors. Quiet.


You may ask why I was so interested in Mark and Luke's argument. I needed a shit and had to wait for them to stop and/or leave, as they were between me and the toilet.

Finally, both of them cleared off. Stomped away. Quiet. Bathroom. Toilet. Pants down. Hardly wait. Sit. Let go. Oh, the glorious relief. Yes!

Casually look down. Empty spool. "Ah!" No toilet paper.

I'm sure I heard them both drive away.

"Ah!"

I picked my moment. "Now or never." I rushed shuffled through the house to the linen press, pants around ankles, legs apart.


I'm back on my bed. The windows are shaded. I can hear the wind in the trees. Birds cheap. Frogs croak.

I wish Manny was lying next to me, in my arms, warm, cuddly, where he should be. Spooning.

 

Saturday, November 27, 2004





And Then There is Luke

And then there's Luke.

Yes, there's Luke.

Did you have a relationship with Luke?

Did I have a relationship with Luke?

Yes, that's what I'm asking?

That's what you are asking?

Yes, that's what I'm asking?

About Luke?

Yes, about Luke.

A relationship?

Yes, with Luke.

I guess, it depends what you mean by relationship?

Did you have one?

With Luke?


Thursday, November 25, 2004

Holding You

Cupped in my hands

your underwear slides down

my finger tips rub your hair there

my digit slides in nice and round

you inhale sharply

and continue to kiss me

as we rub erections

yours drips like a confession

of how you like to be run through

 

Wednesday, November 24, 2004





Got a Cold

I woke up late, with blocked ears and no shirt ironed, so I stayed home, cancelled the day. My nose is stuffed-up, my head’s thick and my ears are humming merrily, as if someone programmed a tune, a dirge, where my ear drums once were, while I was sleeping. Bugger!

Yes, I have a damn cold! I wonder which bastard gave me that? Naturally, there is somebody else to blame, it is the 21st Century, after all and modern legal practises have taken care of that nicely. Let me contemplate who, as I wallow in my misery.


Tuesday, November 23, 2004

PJ's Keen

I got home late, hours after PJ left me his message. My stomach buzzed as I read it. I could feel myself twitch.

17.19. Christian. I’d like to undo yr fly, slip u out of yr jocks and suck u off until u blew in my mouth - PJ.

Aussie boy PJ. Cute. Sandy-haired. Masculine. Nice nipples. Handful and then some. Gorgeous smile. Beautiful eyes which sparkle. Lips just made for kissing.

We always seem to miss each other, don't know why. The universe always seems to be against us, in one way or another.

23.23. Hey PJ, I didn't sign back into g/dar until now. Sure I’m keen. How could a boy ignore a message like that! Christian.

Pity! What that boy does to a pair of jeans, not to mention what he does to a pair of jocks, from the front or from the back. He tucks under, thick and solid; curves into the middle from both sides, from behind, with a finely furred line. Solid thighs, narrow hips. Hairy legs, fine hairy line up his stomach to his lightly hairy chest.

He unbuttons his jeans and slides them down over his thighs. I lie back on the bed and he kneels over me. He loves fingers. You should see his handsome face... as my lubed fingers... slide... up... his... arse. "Oh yeah," he says. It is all warm and smooth up there.

He leans down and kisses me passionately, with his Aussie Boy good looks and his charm. He smiles that smile, cheeky, warm, only eyes for me, then our mouths and our lips meet, tentatively, touch like for the very first time, every time, and we kiss. He is nice to kiss, good at it, like he really means it, really wants to connect. I lose myself in his kiss.

We kiss while he takes the lube in his hand and rubs it on me, up and down my cock. Then he kisses even more passionately as I slide inside him. His breathing gets harder, just like his dick, he has a thick cock, his intensity gets stronger, I can feel every cell in his body buzz as he takes my cock all the way inside him.

He groans. He has a sweet gurgle in the back of his throat. He screws up his face as he tries to sit down on my cock even further

That carefree Aussie boy with a face like sunshine, wantonly pleasures himself on my hardon. He shakes all over as I repeatedly slide into him. He pushes down on it. 

He loves it. He says so. “Oh yeah, just like that. Oh yes, that.... feels… amazing.”

We kiss like we want to eat each other. Then we do eat each other.



Monday, November 22, 2004

Bums And Cocks





Bums and cocks and bums and cocks and bums and cocks and 

bums and cocks and bums and cocks and bums and cocks and 

bums and cocks and bums and cocks and bums and cocks

go together like sunshine and wine

drugs are divine for cutting the time,

booze gets you loose, and the flowing juice

and getting the goose, nice and sluice

so you and your guy can hit the line

and two can become one how they move.

And then it is just, 

bums and cocks and bums and cocks and bums and cocks

all the way to the surprise.


Sunday, November 21, 2004

Killing the Young





You'll do as I tell you, young man," demanded Cindy.

"Why?" questioned Joel. "Why is that going to benefit me?"

"Don't question me," snapped Cindy. "Do as I tell you!" She headed up the hallway.

"Just tell me why?" pleaded Joel. He followed his mother.

"No," shouted Cindy. She spun around to face him, with a look of fire across her face. "I'm the adult and while you live under the roof that I provide, you do as I tell you!" She pointed at him with such force, that if pointing fingers could kill, Joel would have been dead on the carpet.

"Not without a reason."

"Okay, you want a reason. Because I pay for everything, that's the fucking reason..."

"Oh yeah, like that's..."

"Don't question me!"

 

Saturday, November 20, 2004

Donna Eats at Home

Dean was due soon. His parents had gone down to their beach shack for the long weekend. He'd told them he had to study for his final exams. They left with the parting words of maybe coming back mid week.

"You're 18 and old enough to look after yourself now," his mother had said, kind of oddly, as she picked imaginary lint off his shirt and adjusted his fringe. He'd stayed at home, when they went to the beach house, many times. "Be a good boy," she said.

Donna turned off all of the overhead lights, just the lamps were on.

She'd smoked a joint, she'd thought, fuck it, why not. She went out into the back yard to have it.

She'd cooked dinner, chicken breasts and salad. She had 2 bottles of red wine. What if he liked white? She thought at the last minute. Oh well. She shrugged.

She changed her dress twice. She'd burnt incense and had her favourite soul music playing, Nina Simone.

She felt excited and couldn't help smiling. She wanted to mould a man. She shook her head and pushed the thought right out of her brain, as soon as she'd thought it.

Equals, she thought.

The doorbell rang. She felt the butterflies in her stomach take off.


Donna Eats at Home - Extended Version

Dean was due soon. His parents had gone down to their beach shack for the long weekend. He'd told them he had to study for his final exams. They left with the parting words of maybe coming back mid week.

"You're old enough to look after yourself now," his mother had said, kind of oddly, as she picked imaginary lint off his shirt and adjusted his fringe. He'd stayed at home, when they went to the beach house, many times. "Be a good boy," she said.

Donna turned off all of the over head lights, just the lamps were on.

She'd smoked a joint, she'd thought, fuck it, why not. She went out into the back yard to have it.

She'd cooked dinner. Changed her dress twice. She'd burnt incense and had her favourite soul music playing.

She felt excited and couldn't help smiling. She wanted to mould a man. She shook her head and pushed the thought out of her, as soon as she'd thought it.

The doorbell rang. She felt the butterflies in her stomach take off.


She swings the door open and there is Dean’s smiling face.

“Hi,” he says all breathy. He looks beautiful, if a little flushed.

“Hi,” Donna says. She stands and gazes at him.

“Aren’t you going to invite me, um, rin... in?”

“Sure,” She steps away from the door.

He staggers a little. He raises his hand to touch her, but it doesn’t connect. Donna closes the door. He turns and looks at her.

She leans forward and kisses him on the lips. She can smell alcohol. She can also feel the joint she smoked reaching her where she lives.

He followed her in the lounge room.

“I’ve had a couple of drinks,” he says.

“So have I,” she says. Big and strapping, she thinks. Donna is captured in his beauty. He touches his face gently, nervously. Donna likes his nervousness, it makes a change from Tony’s domineering ways.

“I bought some,” Dean says. He holds up a six pack of beer. “Do you want one?”

“Sure,” Donna says. She wants to kiss him again. He tasted good, felt just fine on his lips.

They each drank from their stubbies. She held his gaze, now relaxing. She’d only been nervous of him not showing.


“So, do we do what boy’s and girl’s do?”

“I don’t know what boy’s and girl’s do,” says Dean. He smiles sheepishly.

Donna’s head spins. I’ll show, be my pleasure.

“Come here,” says Donna. She grabs Dean by the shoulders and pushes him backwards into the couch. She kneels in front of him and fixes her gaze on his. “This is what girl’s do to boys, Dean.” She runs her hand across the couch, between his legs. Over the edge of his thigh and up over soft squashy mound.

“Oh my god,” Dean blurts.

He is soft as she runs her hand up to his belt buckle, staring into his eyes.

He’s breathing deeply, kind of staccato.

Donna is turned on even more by how hard and thick he is suddenly as she rubs her hand back.

He holds her gaze, his mouth falls open, through which he breathes.

Donna grabs his belt buckle and unclips it. She undoes the top button of his jeans. His eyes widen, he flexes his legs. She pulls at his fly and the rest of the buttons pop open, two, three, four, five. She slides her hand between the open denim.

Dean groans. Lets out breath. Flexes his legs again.

Red cotton briefs. Black curls of hair. She grabs the elastic of Dean briefs and pulls it down hard. Dean’s cock rises up like a snake about to strike. Donna lowers her eyes. Thick. Red. Uncut. So hard it looks like it is about to burst its skin. She looks back to Dean’s eyes. She smiles. He looks serious. She lowers her mouth, without breaking their eye lock and takes his cock in her mouth.

“Ssssssssssssss!” Dean breathes out through his mouth. He gulps.

She pushes his foreskin down with her lips and sucks his knob into her mouth.

Dean groans loudly. Shivers and throws his head back in the couch.

I’m going to show you baby. She slowly sucks more of his cock into her mouth. She relaxes her throat, like only experience can do and she slowly engulfs the rest of his cock with her mouth.

“Oh my God!” whispers Dean, as he leans forward and grabs each side of her face.

Donna slides her mouth up slowly, looks into Deans eyes and then quickly slides his entire cock down her throat

“AhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” moans Dean.

She pulls her head off and looks at Dean dick. Magnificent, she thinks. Slightly thicker in the middle, thick all the way along. Big knob. Beautiful. But this is 101, she thinks. First lesson. Happy finish.

She goes down on him hard. Gags further down on it. Slides up. Sucks his knob intensely. Sucks down the whole length, again, it’s beautiful to suck.

She sucks him up and down with purpose, long hard strokes. Straight down. Sideways. Straight down. Gag. Relax.

“Oh Donna!” Dean shivers.

Up and down his rigid pole.

“Oh no!”

His cock gets even harder, like that was possible. It’s like granite. She can taste his precum dribbling into her mouth. She wants that, to taste him, to swallow his juice. Then he’d be hers... she tries to obliterate that last thought.

“Oh FUCK!! He’s shaking. He throws himself back in the couch.

Donna gets up on her knees and goes straight down on him.

“AH!”

His first wad of cum shoots into her mouth.

“AH! FUCK!”

His second squirt and third. His come tastes sweet, as Donna knows it would. He is hitting the back of her mouth with high pressure.

Squirt. “Ah!” Squirt! AHHHH!” Squirt, squirt, squirt. “Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!”

Donna’s mouth is full of semen, it had been a while, that wonderful, sour taste. Fresh. White. There was so much, it started to dribble out of the corner of her lips.

She swallows. Sucks his knob again.

“Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!” says Dean.

She sits back on her feet, looks at him and smiles.

He looks exhausted. He opens one eye. Both eyes. He smiles too.