ginger beard part I

i have to admit i miss Sydney clients. they're so much easier to deal with. straight to the point. not so much fucking around. it's all business and there is more of them

already booked before i got off the plane i had to beat them off with a stick. not a smart thing to do. you should grab them while they're hot for it. fags are fickle little buggers. i know because i am one.

it's sunday now. i have been lazy. lazy with writing, but i've working my tits off with workin' and rootin'. no point in saving myself for work. being too spent for a job is not so much a worry. i try to remind myself even my half-arsed efforts are better than when someone else is using their whole ass

this morning i got a call from a fellow. he's into a bit of kink. he likes being effeminate and dressing up like a lady. "are you okay with that?"

no. i think you're a filthy fucking pervert and i want to smash your jaw and beat the shit out of your faggot ass, but a hole is a hole, i couldn't a fuck. "yeah, that's fine," i say

"i like a bit of role play. a dominate man, i love big muscled stocky guys."

"well, i'm big"

"oh great. and i beards. i love beards. i love guys with beards."

"i have a beard growing. i rough ginger beard."


"oh good! you have a very deep manly voice. i like the sound of it"

that's actually my tired and hung over voice, but what whatever gets that little pussy of yours wet...

"i like stockings and suspenders and high heels. i'm small. 5'4" and 6kgs"

the only thing more offensive than a man not behavinglike a man is someone who mixes metric and imperial measurements. no respect! fuck! i'm gonna rough this little bitch up!

"can you be here as soon as you can?"

"how about 10:30? is that enough time to get your hair and nails done?" i've asked this question many times of friends as a means to insult their masculinity. i said it last night as a friend mentioned he only had 2 hours before his date. i have to admit this is the first time, i said it in all seriousness. i don't want to rush a lady. i want sharp eyeliner and i want those lips to pop before i slide my cock between. i don't want a hot mess on my hands. i don't want a busted tranny. i want her to be sickening!

see what RuPaul's Drag Race has taught me. i'm not too old to learn

i've never fucked a tranny before. okay, that's a lie. but i do think the more fucked up a job is the more excited i am about doing it.

since she likes men and beards i'll be wearing my lumberjack ensemble complete with worn blue wifebeater and workboots. i'm gonna give that bitch beard rash for a month!

Sydney Sydney Sydney

i'm in Sydney. housesitting. 3 weeks

the sun is shining. everyone is happy. the food is good. the coffee is great. the men in Sydney are how i like them. i like my men how i like my coffee - hot, strong and bitter

i injured my knee before getting here so i am walking with a limp. i find a limp kinda sexy. there's nothing hotter than a man with a limp, because they couldn't run away if they tried. easy prey. despite my injury i been catching up with as many people as i can. so far the first thing everyone says is "fuck, you're huge!"

huge muscled, not huge fat. awesome!

people find it a hard city. it can be mean. but only if you look like a pussy the people here will chew you up. a big complaint, mostly from people from other parts of Australia whine "everyone is so beautiful in Sydney. they're so judgemental"

true. many are body conscious as hell. 

true. they are judging you. but people judge you everywhere. people here are sharper with the nasty wit and prone to rolling their eyes to your face if they don't like your ensemble. but if you're a little fucking pussy who thinks so little of yourself that you care what other people think, then you deserve to hide to away and drown your tears in an up-sized burger meal deal

if you're comfortable with yourself, and you should be, everything is going to be okay. a hot body in well-fitting clothes can be sexy, but confidence is what is attractive. it always has been

anyway, i'm a single man in Darlinghurst - the gayest suburb in Sydney. so i'm gonna go out there fuck everything hairy that moves - or doesn't move. godammit, i'm just gonna fuck everything!

colby keller

he was always cute, but sippin' whisky and reading poetry like a drunken Scot makes him hot

mix tape - track nine

everyone needs a little cocksure hip hop posing to coach them through a session

Best of British Sex III - a wanker

it's not all saucy secretaries and wanking your todger between lashings of ginger beer and cucumber sandwiches. some british sex is hot. british men are hot. american men are hotter (in my homo opinion). german guys - i like them cold and mean. french guys - because i like them hairy, short and 5 foot nothing. Lebanese...

mmm... lebanese... 

i'm sorry. my mind is drifting far far away. i could have done with out the marriage proposal from the big beefy hairy doctor in Lebanon last week. he sent some pics of him in surgery with all that fur curling up around the collar of his scrubs. sure, it may complicate surgery should any of that hair fall into the open wound of a patient, but it's one of the sexiest way i could think of to get an infection

what?

yes. British sex. of course

i got a call from a fellow in a hotel, a Travelodge, vague about what he wanted to get up to. so i prepared as much as i could for someone staying in a travelodge (and by that i mean i bothered to run my foreskin under some cold water and chewed a mint. always prepared). he was british so if he's has any experience with london rent boys he would be thankful i don't turn up covered in scabs and an eye dripping with conjunctivitis

i had been in the hotel before. always with an asian client who was a guide for bus tours. he was filipino and self-confessed 'dick addict' that liked to suck and swallow. he loved aussie. aussie guys. aussie cum. aussie men. after a few tedious hours of texting and bargaining i dropped around and gave him my 'angry rude straight aussie guy' routine - quite easy since he had just pissed me off by pretending 'oh, i don't pay for sex' (while admitting he got my number from the whore ad) and using that as an excuse to haggle the price down. i lowered it a bit and agreed to see him after work or when i was just about to go to bed anyway. i would greet him with a series of grunts and be extremely rude. he would caress my filthy flannel shirt like it was gold and be nearly brought to tears at the thrill of lightly touching the hair on my chest and very hairy legs. he loved it and my arrogant prick routine he paid for sex every second night for the next 2 weeks. he loved aussie guys soooo much, he wished to do this all in complete darkness. so i never got to see this travelodge room at all. 

so when i finally got to see a room in the hotel in daylight i wished after all that i hadn't. Mike, the british guy, knew that also. the first thing he said was an apology for the room. that is all he needed to apologise for. Mike was hot. in his mid to late 20s, good slim body and a handsome face with a little pornstar 'tache who's appeal overshadowed it's irony. 

i was going to enjoy this

"i'm just traveling around. i've hit Brisbane, in Melbourne now and will be in Sydney next week. i have a partner back home in London so i'm not really allowed to do anything. you're hot. i'd like to watch you wank and watch you cum."

"wank?" i thought, "you're gonna sit there with your sexy little face and let those cocksucker lips go to waste while you sit there and just watch me wank? you fucking tease!"

i was not going to enjoy this at all

i start to unbutton my shirt and rubbing my chest with one hand and crotch with the other. i don't see the point of masturbating with someone else in the room. you have a perfectly good mouth and arse. use it. i can wank myself off at home. having someone else watch is probably just going to make me feel a little uptight and not enjoy it as much as i normally would. i took off my shirt. from the other side of the small room he unbuttoned his. i slowly unbutton my jeans, rubbing myself until my cock was shown snaking down the leg through the denim. always one step behind me, he removed his shirt. 

knowing he was british i wore rugby shorts instead of jocks. a dirty smirk and a quick jump of his eyebrows let it known he approved. one leg up on the coffee table, i pulled mu cock out and started stroking it, my nuts quickly followed. they're not huge, but they hang low. so maybe i'm numb to it, but they must have fallen out with an audible slap against my thigh because he flinched when they revealed themselves. 

Mike slowly pulled his cock out, and soon gave a few directions on what he wanted to see. i actually started to enjoy it. i am a show off. i know that. but i don't do solo shows. i would rock your socks off being the bad guy in a boy band, but i'm no Robbie Williams. i work much better with others, in a team. it's just a little weird pleasuring myself. 

after a while Mike got up and came around behind me, for a second i thought i might get to feel that cockduster after all. but no, he just rubbed my chest and played with my nipples while he continued to watch the show from a different angle. then he sat back down on the far side of the room. i was getting pretty damn excited, and when that happens i leak precum like a goddamn firehose. i squeezed about half a teaspoonful onto my thumb. held it up. it started to run and form a droplet on the tip. it threatened to fall but i quickly licked it up and savoured the taste (it's pretty damn sweet to. i swear  it's 35% reconstituted pineapple juice).

"awww!" he groaned out loud. it was somewhere between "fuck! that's hot" and "damn! that's not fair!" he stood up again and walked towards me. i thought i had i him, but again he just rubbed me chest

"yeah, suck it you son of a bitch! it's not fair for me either!" 

he sat back down and when he wanted me to come. i had it planned. i was going to finished it off damn well. i took aim and fired, shooting a good 2 feet in the air. i managed to catch a shot or two on my face, one on my mouth and the rest all over my chest. he was impressed. "yeah! look at that! that's some impressive shit right there! that'll fucking teach you to tease me you goddamn... oh wait, that's what you wanted, wasn't it? so... er... yeah, i sure showed you then.. yeah... hmmm... damn!"

he ordered me come and stand close to him. pull my foreskin over my softening cock and slowly play with his while he finished himself off. "that was hot!" and i had to agree with him. it was hot. 

there is some things i have never done sexually. admittedly, there aren't many things left i haven't tried, but i always say "yeah, i've done that" as long as my confidence is convincing it all runs smoothly. today it did. this job is a good way of trying things i haven't done and practicing things i have. practise may not neccessarily make perfect, but it will lessen your chances of being a dud fuck

whore moans of the damned

day 2

so far i don't feel any different except a sore arse cheek and overwhelming lethargy. still, fucking with hormones is fun

it can happen. after reading up (and by reading, i mean looking at other biased advice from meatheads on the interweb) i'm going to follow the general advice more fruit and eating properly

 where are my instant results? but i got nice sore cheasticles

my trainer was happy for me and mentioned a few things i shoulde be aware of "your libido will be out of control in a day or two. you will get sore nipples after a while too"

"i'm used to that from years of breast feeding"

 "yeah that can toughen your nipples."

 i'm welcoming the exhaustion and lounging in front of the tv. i'll do some painting, but for now it's bad movie night. John Carpenter's Village of the Damned. the cast is a collection of the worst actors from the 90s. but this little video from Phantasma Disques makes it look freaking awesome!
▲NDRΛS - Black Veil (Phantasma Disques 2011) from Cosmotropia de Xam presents on Vimeo.

remember remember the 5th of September

or was it november?

ahh fuck

today i'm gonna start my first 'roid cycle. this should be fun. like i really need to be any more rampantly horny and moodswingy. i've wanted to do this years ago, but never felt i was committed to getting of my fat ass and training properly, and more importantly, sticking to it. i been steadily gaining about 1kg a month. putting on all the size i lost late last year (losing 10kgs in 3 weeks sucked arse). i want more. i think i can do it now. even my trainer said 'if you can get it at that price and it's good. fuck yeah!"

it arrived in the mail last week and i've playing with it all week. excited like.

i had a little trip to the needle exchange. squeezing through the old skool junkies to get to the front desk where i was served by a polite as hell woman. her face was a little weathered, you could tell she's had an interesting history, but she also had a charm and sense of humour most cleaned up drug users lack. it always breaks my heart a little when someone gets cleaned up and that spark disappears from their eyes. you're happy for them that they were able to sort their life out but they just seemed so much happier and livelier on the gear. though this lady was lovely, her long black hair swimming about as she grabbed items off the shelf for me

it was a nice little trip for me. remembering my own days of blasting speed and ice and whatever we could find to make things a little more interesting. most of that was done a good 10 years ago, but it's just like riding a bicycle, right? you never forget

"i'll get a box of them... and them... and-"

"i'll give you this. it's got everything. wipes and with the disposal bin."

"sweet! and i'll get... um..." now here's where i got confused. whacking up stuff in your veins is easy, but intramuscular injections, shit. i had no idea. "um... the 3ml or the 5ml... how big is the 3ml?" she turned around, her eyebrow raising and wise ass comments on the tip of the tongue. "well, it's as big as 3ml, i guess." the 3 workers behind the counter started laughing, thankfully, with me. the lady serving me nearly dropped a box in her own laughter.

"take these. and these. the clip ons, yeah, have a box of these. these ones are blunt, you see, yeah? so when you're drawing up and you don't pierce the bag and lose any of your gear."

"wow! fuck me, you've got your shit together, don't ya?" i smiled

"hell yeah! now you're going to return all those needles here, yes? good man!"

you don't often think of a trip to the needle exchange as being fun, but it is. well this time it was. and in Australia, it's all free! how awesome is that?



this is the easy listening soundtrack for this morning as i try shooting up into my own arse. fun