July 2010
(updated July 1, 2011)
i was back in melbourne. checking out apartments. networking like a motherfucker to find some share house with the right mix of freaks i'd been looking for
i went to the Laird the have a beer with Josh. everyone knows Josh. it's hard not to. the kid is awesome. i had known him for years in Sydney. i met him on the 422 bus to a Bad Dog party. he was one of those guys that you always saw when you went out. he's like that old lady who danced at Studio 54 until she dropped dead on the dancefloor, but younger and with a beard and more drinking and less dancing. i don't know how he does it, but he can make any occasion fun. if he's there, you just want to be around him
"we've got a spare room! come live with us! hang on i'll just call my flatmates." my troubles were over. "it's gone. i forgot we just gave it to some one earlier today. but he's hot. look." Josh showed a pic of his flatmate
"well, i hope you and your hot new flatmate are happy together..."
the search dragged on. however, i was still living with my sister, her husband and 2 year old son Sam. i made things easier by being a live-in chef and babysitter. i have never liked kids before, but Sam was incredible. one of those permanently happy little buggers. at this time he had a thing for Beyonce. we would dance to Single Ladies and Diva about a billion times. he would even do the hand actions.
work was never really busy but i was the new stud in town. rooting all over the city. smashing man-pussy left, right and centre. but somehow it wasn't as much fun as it should have been. because every day i'd get texts from Dj. phonecalls in the evening. texts before bed and 'good morning' text when i'd wake up.
i wanted to be alone. i wanted to try this new city. i don't want anything complicated
i set myself a test. i would hook up with a guy i'd wanted to bang for ages. Williams was a sexy little fucker. hairy man, scruffy beard and nice selection of tattoos. a twisted fuck into horror films, dark tragedy and camp. you could sit and throw back beers with this guy and never be bored. we were the same age and grew up in the same areas with the same mix of dodgy people when Melbourne was far from this sophisiticated city of culture it is today. i wonder if my parents hadn't feared for me and my sister's lives and moved us all to Sydney i might have have the same fucked-up life he had
he pounces on me and he's a wild son of a bitch. fucking hot and a dirty bastard. it's hot. it was fun. but even as i had that hot ass in my hands i knew i wasn't enjoying it as much as i should be
i got an invitation to spend a few days in Sydney at a beachhouse
i flew up to sydney that weekend and drove to Wombarra on the south coast with Dj for 4 days at a friend's beach house on the edge of the bush where the mountains drop into the sea. the first thing i did was tear my clothes off and run around naked with the dogs. we drank. he smoked. he cooked and we ate. i have fond memories of watching him bend over to take the roast he was cooking out of the oven. it looked so hot i didn't let him get up and whipped out my cock and started pushing it into his ass while he balanced a tray of hot fat, meat with roast potatoes and pumpkins. wisely, he put it back in the oven and he dragged me to the bedroom
that weekend i found out my friend Andrew was competing in the Gay Gaymes in Colonge. in a few weeks his apartment in Sydney would be available for a month. i decided to take it. earn better money in Sydney and see where this went with Dj.
it was a welcome return home to Sydney. back amongst the cheap thai lunch specials and bitter coffee on the streets watching the junkies shuffle by. in Darlinghurst the junkies are so fucking classy they eat sushi. no shit.
i was also back to easily earning over a grand a week in Sydney while able to balance what had quickly become my boyfriend. work had almost become impossible. trying to live out the fantasies of some guy when you know you've got a hot piece of ass waiting for you at home is tough. really tough. not only is that ass waiting, no doubt that ass was cooking buttermilk pancakes and probably picked up a 6pack of beer as well
"he's nesting," my sister said. she missed having me in her house playing with Sam while she got a chance to rest, but she was happy that i was happy
i would time my jobs with Dj's working hours so we could hang out as much as possible.
not only had work become tough to take pride in, but i had one more job that proved a little tougher than most.
i had got call from a guy named Robert. he was an older gent and vague about what he wanted over the phone. prepared for anything i turn up at his house, after a long wait and much shuffling behind the opaque glass, he opened the door and invited me in. Robert was a big man in his 60s. the house was filled with clutter stacked up high against the walls. his legs and jaw were swollen; his neck painfully so. we sat down at the table. drank a few beers, smoked a cigar and talked. although it was physically difficult to do so, all he wanted to do was talk.
"i'm not well. i'm an old man. i am not going to get any better. i am dying. i have crippling arthritis in my jaw. my eyesight is going and so is my memory. i've lectured at many universities all over the world. i want you here to share some of my stories. pass them on to you because soon i will not be able to talk at all. if a lecturer cannot lecture, what good is he?" he told me about his youth/ growing up in South Africa. his first uncomfortable sexual experience which became his first unrequited love. traveling the world. coming to Australia. his friends (what was left of them), his family (a lack of) and his lovers (also a lack of).
he asked some questions. my responses were brief, because i wasn't there to talk, only to carrying him on to his next story, and towards the end of the second hour, the reason why i was there. "i'm going to kill myself. i'm going to kill myself soon before this gets any worse. you are a good man, of good character, i can tell that from the time we have spent together tonight. i'm not asking you to assist me, but i want you to be there for my closest friend after i am gone. that's what i will pay you for."
he paid me very well for my time and we arranged another appointment in 3 days.
i sat outside in the cold for a while, then went directly to Dj's. and dragged him to bed
"are you okay?"
"no. you can go back to what you were doing in a minute. just hold me until i fall asleep, okay?"
he did
later that week in the second appointment with Robert drank more scotch. i went to get us both dinner (he wanted fish & chips) and briefly visit his friend that i would be meeting after his death. i was to say nothing of Robert's plan. this guy was also a university professor type, but extremely uptight. i returned Robert's. he pointed to a toshiba laptop on the chair "take that would you. it's got things on there i don't want my family to see after i'm gone." he tried to give a few other thing, but i said i will take them next time i see him. "maybe next time you could sleep over."
"i'd like that" i smiled
it was far more relaxed the second visit, but it was still a heavy agreement. Robert called the next day to see if i was okay and that we would make another appointment soon. after a few days i heard nothing from him. i called and left messages - phone, text and email - no response to either. he could have easily forgotten about me or even unable to use his phone anymore. i should have chased it up more, but it was far too big for my little brain to deal with. for the first time since being with Dj my sleep disorder had returned. i never heard back from Robert or his friend.
there was nothing untoward on the laptop. just a racy Aussiebum Advert, a few head and shoulder webcam pics of himself and an image of Carravaggio's Conversion of St Paul
one day soon after this while driving through Petersham, the lights at the corner of Crystal and Douglas streets, Dj asked:
"so when do i get you all to myself?"
i grinned, "when you ask. what is it that you want?"
"yes. i want you."
that night i was more than happy to take my adverts offline
(updated July 1, 2011)
i was back in melbourne. checking out apartments. networking like a motherfucker to find some share house with the right mix of freaks i'd been looking for
i went to the Laird the have a beer with Josh. everyone knows Josh. it's hard not to. the kid is awesome. i had known him for years in Sydney. i met him on the 422 bus to a Bad Dog party. he was one of those guys that you always saw when you went out. he's like that old lady who danced at Studio 54 until she dropped dead on the dancefloor, but younger and with a beard and more drinking and less dancing. i don't know how he does it, but he can make any occasion fun. if he's there, you just want to be around him
"we've got a spare room! come live with us! hang on i'll just call my flatmates." my troubles were over. "it's gone. i forgot we just gave it to some one earlier today. but he's hot. look." Josh showed a pic of his flatmate
"well, i hope you and your hot new flatmate are happy together..."
the search dragged on. however, i was still living with my sister, her husband and 2 year old son Sam. i made things easier by being a live-in chef and babysitter. i have never liked kids before, but Sam was incredible. one of those permanently happy little buggers. at this time he had a thing for Beyonce. we would dance to Single Ladies and Diva about a billion times. he would even do the hand actions.
work was never really busy but i was the new stud in town. rooting all over the city. smashing man-pussy left, right and centre. but somehow it wasn't as much fun as it should have been. because every day i'd get texts from Dj. phonecalls in the evening. texts before bed and 'good morning' text when i'd wake up.
i wanted to be alone. i wanted to try this new city. i don't want anything complicated
i set myself a test. i would hook up with a guy i'd wanted to bang for ages. Williams was a sexy little fucker. hairy man, scruffy beard and nice selection of tattoos. a twisted fuck into horror films, dark tragedy and camp. you could sit and throw back beers with this guy and never be bored. we were the same age and grew up in the same areas with the same mix of dodgy people when Melbourne was far from this sophisiticated city of culture it is today. i wonder if my parents hadn't feared for me and my sister's lives and moved us all to Sydney i might have have the same fucked-up life he had
he pounces on me and he's a wild son of a bitch. fucking hot and a dirty bastard. it's hot. it was fun. but even as i had that hot ass in my hands i knew i wasn't enjoying it as much as i should be
i got an invitation to spend a few days in Sydney at a beachhouse
i flew up to sydney that weekend and drove to Wombarra on the south coast with Dj for 4 days at a friend's beach house on the edge of the bush where the mountains drop into the sea. the first thing i did was tear my clothes off and run around naked with the dogs. we drank. he smoked. he cooked and we ate. i have fond memories of watching him bend over to take the roast he was cooking out of the oven. it looked so hot i didn't let him get up and whipped out my cock and started pushing it into his ass while he balanced a tray of hot fat, meat with roast potatoes and pumpkins. wisely, he put it back in the oven and he dragged me to the bedroom
that weekend i found out my friend Andrew was competing in the Gay Gaymes in Colonge. in a few weeks his apartment in Sydney would be available for a month. i decided to take it. earn better money in Sydney and see where this went with Dj.
it was a welcome return home to Sydney. back amongst the cheap thai lunch specials and bitter coffee on the streets watching the junkies shuffle by. in Darlinghurst the junkies are so fucking classy they eat sushi. no shit.
i was also back to easily earning over a grand a week in Sydney while able to balance what had quickly become my boyfriend. work had almost become impossible. trying to live out the fantasies of some guy when you know you've got a hot piece of ass waiting for you at home is tough. really tough. not only is that ass waiting, no doubt that ass was cooking buttermilk pancakes and probably picked up a 6pack of beer as well
"he's nesting," my sister said. she missed having me in her house playing with Sam while she got a chance to rest, but she was happy that i was happy
i would time my jobs with Dj's working hours so we could hang out as much as possible.
not only had work become tough to take pride in, but i had one more job that proved a little tougher than most.
i had got call from a guy named Robert. he was an older gent and vague about what he wanted over the phone. prepared for anything i turn up at his house, after a long wait and much shuffling behind the opaque glass, he opened the door and invited me in. Robert was a big man in his 60s. the house was filled with clutter stacked up high against the walls. his legs and jaw were swollen; his neck painfully so. we sat down at the table. drank a few beers, smoked a cigar and talked. although it was physically difficult to do so, all he wanted to do was talk.
"i'm not well. i'm an old man. i am not going to get any better. i am dying. i have crippling arthritis in my jaw. my eyesight is going and so is my memory. i've lectured at many universities all over the world. i want you here to share some of my stories. pass them on to you because soon i will not be able to talk at all. if a lecturer cannot lecture, what good is he?" he told me about his youth/ growing up in South Africa. his first uncomfortable sexual experience which became his first unrequited love. traveling the world. coming to Australia. his friends (what was left of them), his family (a lack of) and his lovers (also a lack of).
he asked some questions. my responses were brief, because i wasn't there to talk, only to carrying him on to his next story, and towards the end of the second hour, the reason why i was there. "i'm going to kill myself. i'm going to kill myself soon before this gets any worse. you are a good man, of good character, i can tell that from the time we have spent together tonight. i'm not asking you to assist me, but i want you to be there for my closest friend after i am gone. that's what i will pay you for."
he paid me very well for my time and we arranged another appointment in 3 days.
i sat outside in the cold for a while, then went directly to Dj's. and dragged him to bed
"are you okay?"
"no. you can go back to what you were doing in a minute. just hold me until i fall asleep, okay?"
he did
later that week in the second appointment with Robert drank more scotch. i went to get us both dinner (he wanted fish & chips) and briefly visit his friend that i would be meeting after his death. i was to say nothing of Robert's plan. this guy was also a university professor type, but extremely uptight. i returned Robert's. he pointed to a toshiba laptop on the chair "take that would you. it's got things on there i don't want my family to see after i'm gone." he tried to give a few other thing, but i said i will take them next time i see him. "maybe next time you could sleep over."
"i'd like that" i smiled
it was far more relaxed the second visit, but it was still a heavy agreement. Robert called the next day to see if i was okay and that we would make another appointment soon. after a few days i heard nothing from him. i called and left messages - phone, text and email - no response to either. he could have easily forgotten about me or even unable to use his phone anymore. i should have chased it up more, but it was far too big for my little brain to deal with. for the first time since being with Dj my sleep disorder had returned. i never heard back from Robert or his friend.
there was nothing untoward on the laptop. just a racy Aussiebum Advert, a few head and shoulder webcam pics of himself and an image of Carravaggio's Conversion of St Paul
one day soon after this while driving through Petersham, the lights at the corner of Crystal and Douglas streets, Dj asked:
"so when do i get you all to myself?"
i grinned, "when you ask. what is it that you want?"
"yes. i want you."
that night i was more than happy to take my adverts offline
No comments:
Post a Comment