Coda Josh Grant

Despite wanting to catch up, or at least saying he wanted to, it just never quite happened with Rowan. Girlfriend, kid. Kid, girlfriend. Didn’t have the time. Was busy. Not enough hours in the day. Girlfriend. Kid. Can’t get away. I promise I will. Kid. Girlfriend. Yeah, okay, I know you have a girlfriend and a kid.  I get it. He was nervous. I get it? I remember the process. “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. What was I like. So, I decided to be devious.  He said he loved exercise, it showed he was in great shape. And the more I thought about it, the more I wanted some of it. If just for sentimental reasons, maybe? I remember Rowan was great sex. I remember him being a really enthusiastic sexual partner? He liked it all. He would do all of it. He had a really nice, thick, todger. Was that just because I wa...

I found Rowan. It was one of those chance meetings, almost 10 years after we’d lost touch.  I was out at a gay bar drinking with Nick, and Nick had got lucky and left with some guy.  It was late, and I had nothing to do the next day, so I just stayed sitting at the bar. Note for any reason other than it was one of those nights when I was just too lazy to walk my lazy arse home. So, I drank. People came and went. The bar was busy, then it wasn’t so busy. The barmen were efficient. It is kind of a lonely vigil sitting at a gay bar on your own until the late hours, when you don’t want anything from anyone. Eventually, I was contemplating heading home. Some guy bumped me, I looked around to see who the clumsy arse was, he mumbled some apology, and it was Rowan. “Hey!” said Rowan “Hey!” “Fuck me!” “Straight to the point.” “I wasn’t expecting to see you.” “No,” I said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.” “What are you doing here?” “Drinking,” I said. “Er, being gay. You?” “Um, er, meet...

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?...

Me and Rowan. nearly 10 years did nothing to diminish us. It was like no time had passed at all. It was like riding a bike, if you will excuse the expression.

I used to go watch Rowan play footy for Kew. He played for them after we left school. He looked hot in his small white shorts that hugged his beefy arse, framed his muscular hairy legs, and cupped his big bulge. He had muscular guns in his sleeveless jumper. He was just one of the lads as he hung with his mates, all slapping each other’s arses after a win. We all drank beer afterwards and the rest of them talked about girls, as I caught Rowan's eye and he'd smile at me momentarily before he’d join in with the other’s girl talk. It was mostly bullshit on his part, and he’d occasionally smile slyly at me just to confirm the point. He’d be all macho, dig the chicks as one of the boys, I used to love it. A tough handsome kid. Then he’d say quietly, “Do you want to suck my cock?” quietly, keeping his eyes on the other lads making sure they didn’t hear hum. Then he’d blush at the clandestine nature of our small talk. He looked adorable when he blushed. Then I'd be sucking his big...

Rowan's sexy chest. First photo in 10 years. he was nervous about it, so it was something subtle

It's funny thinking about Rowan. He was fiery and passionate and beautiful. An eastern suburbs boy. A tough, footy playing, beer swilling, straight as they come, with straight brothers, but not straight at all, lad. We kind of had a special bond, right from the start at school. Rowan was always kind of ‘play’ picking on me. He was always being ‘faux’ mean to me. He was always gravitating towards me and including me it his circle. I never really thought about it at school, that was just Rowan. It wasn’t until that chance meeting in the city a year, or so after leaving school that he admitted that he was always attracted to me. “I knew it from the first time I lay eyes on you,” he said. “I just had to wait for you to catch up.” After that, we’d meet up for day time movies, where we’d meet kind of furtively. We’d pick unpopular sessions with little attendance and we’d sit up the back and have our hand down each other’s pants as soon as it went dark.  We’d be back to his place, or mine...

I was driving down the Chandler Hwy, coming back from the parent’s place, sun shining, car purring and I saw a sign that said Kew Boulevard. Of course, I have seen it many times, the long and winding boulevard. I hadn’t driven down it for the longest time It had all those quaint streets of Kew leading off it that were on different levels depending on which direction you were travelling. All those memories of Kew around the river.  The closest memory I had was of Rowan from Kew. 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 Rowan in ages. I met him in the city, on one of those endless city visits that nineteen year olds seem to make. He was a tough looking out of our private boy’s school green and gold uniform. He just looked like any other 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...