Coda Josh Grant

Despite wanting to catch up, or at least saying he wanted to, there was just one excuse after another with Jason. Wife, kid. Kid, wife. Kid. Wife. Kid. Wife. Kid. Can’t get away. I promise I will. Fuck, I now you have a wife and a kid. I get it. How nervous is nervous? I mean to say. Can’t make it, sorry. Okay, I get it, enough. Have a nice life. Somethings aren't meant to be. Pussy, I thought. Then, I laughed at myself. The guy has a partner, and I prise honesty above everything else.

I found Jason online. I typed in Jason Farrugia and there he was, just like that. Social networking, you've got to love it. So, I sent him a message and he answered. He says he's been meaning to look me up for ages. He wants to catch up. We'll see. I can't help but feel a little excited. He says he's got a wife and kid. Of course. He said he'd like to meet up. "It would be great to see you."

Amanda and Rick, my parents, said that if I met a nice girl, who I really cared about, then yes, I was allowed to bring her home and sleep with her. That was pretty much the sex talk. Girls I'd met the night before certainly didn’t qualify. There was never an age prescribed, other than the girl had to be old enough that her parents wouldn't arrive on the doorstep and demand to know why my parents were allowing their son to screw their daughter. She had to be her own person like that, only answerable to herself for her decisions. In other words, come from a family of sane people and not from a pack of religious wowsers – my words, not theirs. I think it is healthy. Teenagers should be encouraged to screw each other in the safety of their family home. That way they learn about life, they learn about each other in a safe and controlled environment. But, I never did. Was that because I slept with boys? Do parents worry about someone else's son screwing their son? Maybe they do?...

I used to go watch Jason play footy for Glenroy. He looked hot in his shorts – nice bum, hairy legs, big bulge, muscular arms in his sleeveless jumper. He was just one of the lads as he hung with his mates… all slapping each other’s arses as they showered. We all drank beer afterwards and the rest of them talked about girls, as I caught Jason's eye and he'd smile at me momentarily before he'd join in with the others. He’d be all hey-ho macho and one of the boys, I used to love it. A tough northern kid. Then he’d say quietly, Do you want to suck my cock? Then he’d blush. Straight boys (straightish) are hot when they blush. Then I'd be sucking his big fat cock back in his room before his parents got home from where ever they were, most likely the market, or Jason's sisters place, wondering what his mates would have thought if they could have seen him spread legged. He'd wipe his spoof off the lino on his bedroom floor with his jocks when we were done and...

It's funny thinking about Jason. He was fiery and passionate and beautiful. A northern suburbs boy. A tough, footy playing, beer swilling, straight as they come, but not straight at all, lad. We kind of had a special bond, kids from different sides of the tracks make good friendship. Day time movie premises, we’d meet furtively. I bet they wouldn't show the hot fucking, skin on skin we knew. We couldn't get enough of each other's genitals, hand down his pants in the dark. Back to his place and we were always pulling each other's pants off. He seemed so alive and his extended family seemed like a circus going on around him. Not a fucking clue about their boy. The funny bit is that I have his parent's phone number. It wouldn't be so unrealistic that they haven't moved, they'd lived in that house for years. They loved me. They thought I was funny. They were all so earthy, in away. They called me Jason's boyfriend, even though they never susp...

I was driving down the Calder, coming back from the shack, sun shining, car purring and I saw a sign that said Keilor Park Drive. Of course, I have seen it many times, but had I ever really looked at it? It was like something I didn't know. I have no information on that. It was somewhere I had never been and somewhere I would probably never go. The closest I had was Jason from Glenroy. Not that that is really close at all. Is it? I have no idea. I laughed to myself, am I an inner city ghetto dweller? I hadn't thought about Jason in ages. I met him in the city, on one of those endless city visits that seventeen year olds seem to make. He was a tough looking straight boy, I assumed, in the bog for a piss. He had that look in his eyes, though, I couldn't believe it. He seemed so straight and so tough, but he kept looking at me with ‘the look’ in his eyes we all know so well. Then he followed me out to the basins. It wasn’t until he nervously said, "Do you know some where ...