New Year
My mate Gordon gives the best New Year’s Eve party. Woa! My heads still spinning. I took Nick with me, he’s in worse shape.
Gordon is an old school queen, everything is "my darling" and "my dear." Big throat clutching hands, lots of innuendo. He’s quite flamboyant. I once asked him why and he said,
“Because I don’t give a rat’s arse darling,” he said. “They took away my rights, they tried to take away my love and then when everything seemed to be turning around and we’d all found our place in this world, along came a bloody big virus which took away more than half of my friends. Sweet, I’ve seen it all and there’s nothing left they can do to me now.” He laughed his hearty laugh. “Fuck ‘em if they can’t handle this joke.”
“You’re not a joke...”
“You are sweet, my dear. You always have been.”
Gordon is now very wealthy and he has this great house with views of the bay, just made for parties. He says there is no great secret to his wealth. He started off in retail straight out of school. He realised early on that his job wasn’t going to earn him any great amounts of money, so he studied up on investments.
“Make your money work for you, darling.”
He saved every cent he earned. Then he invested it, firstly in real estate, then shares. He was very careful, well, to start off with, he didn’t have much and he couldn’t afford to make a mistake. Then some years later with a modest nest egg he retired from work and became a full time investor.
"I wanted to work on making myself wealthy, not somebody else."
He made a truck load of money from the inner suburbs of Melbourne in the eighties. And now he has an investment portfolio, as he would say, to die for.
He’s very private about his wealth with most people.
“Darling, there’s no point giving such details to most people, they’d only want a loan, or they’d treat you differently, or they’d bitch, whichever, it’s best kept to oneself. I only tell you because I look upon you as the son I never had.”
Gordon picked me up off the beach as a teenager. I was staying with my grandma, who lived opposite Black Rock Beach. That particular afternoon gran had some business to do in the city and she’d said I could spend the afternoon on the beach. She said she’d be back for dinner. Gordon was in his thirties then and was handsome and buff. Good genes, nothing to do with anything I did, he always said.
I remember I had on a white and orange round necked shirt and blue speedos. The sun was shining, it was a beautiful day. Gordon had on shorts and a wide-brimmed hat. He just came over and started chatting to me, as I sat on the bluestone wall watching the world go by.
I’d kind of become aware of the single men cruising on the beach during my previous visits and while I tuned into their stares, which turned me on incredibly, I didn’t know to do anything in response. I instinctively knew there was a level of interest in their eyes I had not come in contact with before and I knew it meant something which excited me, but I didn’t know any more than that.
I’d always try to make for the beach whenever I was staying with my grandma, which was semi regularly, maybe once a month. She’d always go for her “constitutional” early in the morning, padding off along the beach at 6am so she was never so keen to come down to the sand when I wanted to go.
She was inclined to keep out of the sun with her English Rose complexion.
But, it was simply over Beach Road, so she said I was probably as safe there as anywhere.
Where I first was happy to lie on my towel and get a suntan, after I discovered “secret men’s business” I became too distracted to lie still on the sand. I used to walk along the footpath very nearly to the next beach, then walk back along the sand, seeing how many men’s gazes I could collect, if you like, along the way. Then I’d sit up on the bluestone wall to watch the men come and cruise me. It was a game, I thought, and it was, I just didn’t know what the finale was.
“How are you?” asked Gordon.
“I’m good,” I said, nervously.
“Well, that’s good,” said Gordon. “It’s a very lovely day.”
“Yes.”
“It’s nice sitting here, do you mind if I sit with you?”
“No. No, I don’t mind.”
“What’s your name?”
“Josh. My name is Josh.”
“That’s a lovely name. Mine is Gordon, nice to meet you.”
We shook hands. Gordon squeezed my hand in handshake like I’d never experienced before, kind of intimate, feeling skin.
He smiled and looked out to sea. “I love it when the sea is as blue as it is today. The sky, the clouds, it makes you glad to be alive.”
“Yes,” I said. "I like the warm sand between my toes, even if the squeak put my teeth on edge." I liked the way the sun-warmed concrete capping on the top of those blue stones warmed my arse and dried my damp bathers.
“So, what do you do, young Josh?”
I was in year ten. I think it was at the school holidays at the end of that year, but it could have been the holidays at the beginning of the year too, going into year ten. I can’t remember now. I should ask Gordon, he remembers all those small details. He once said that he suspected that he may have a photographic memory, but he didn’t know how to have such a thing tested, and he wasn't sure really why he would.
“I’m in year ten.”
“Oh, my goodness, so young.”
“Not so young.” And I gave Gordon a wink. I don’t know why, really, I’m not a winker. I’m sure it was my sense of humour kicking in, you know, stating the bleeding obvious, making light of what I was quickly becoming aware.
“Oh, good for you!” Gordon laughed and clapped his hands together in front of himself.
I felt a thrill of excitement that I was, knowingly or unknowingly, making my future, one of my tribe, amused. Gordon has said on more than one occasion that that wink bonded the two of us there and then. He knew we were going to be friends.
"Like a boy hustler," Gordon would say years later. "As bold as you fucken like."
The waves rolled in. The sun shone down. The seagulls shrieked. Somehow, I remember feeling, being with Gordon, that everything was going to be all right. No “danger danger Will Robinson” moments, no fear, just somehow an acknowledgment of the place we both belonged in life. Somehow, I knew my destiny had come up and sat beside me. Don’t ask me how I knew. I just knew.
“You are very handsome,” said Gordon He put his hand on my thigh and squeezed. I felt the thrill of touch and wanted to flee all at the same time. “And you fill those speedos out very fetchingly.”
I must have blushed and Gordon removed his hand.
“Oh, I’ve embarrassed you.” He laughed that infectious laugh that I would come to know warmly as Gordon. “Don’t worry my dear, you won’t come to any harm with me. Goodness, I’m old enough to be your father.” He smiled. “It’s just affection, nothing more.”
Somehow sitting there that day with Gordon I felt a sense of equality for the first time.
“But, I’ve been watching you, today and the other week when I was down here.”
I’d never seen Gordon before, I was surprised. I thought I was so clever and so aware.
"You have?"
“Quite the little tease, I thought.”
“Tease?” I asked questioningly. “I don’t know...”
“Oh, I’m sure you do.”
I shrugged. I didn’t know what he meant, not really.
“Do you have any idea why all of those men look at you down here?” He pointed to the guy sitting on his towel. And he pointed to the guy with his t-shirt wrapped around his face, standing in the shallows.
My heart raced with that question, it was almost like I’d been found out, my secret was revealed, laid open in the afternoon sun, for the seagulls to peck at.
“No.”
“Oh, young Josh, I think you do.”
“I um... I um...”
“Well... they want to take you out of those fetching speedos that you wear so well.”
And with that, my cock started to go hard, despite me. Even though I was shaking inside, I was too excited by what Gordon had just said. I moved my hand over it. Gordon noticed straight away.
“You see, I knew you did.” Gordon looked out to sea again. I remember, I thought he was handsome. He said wistfully, still gazing out over the water, “It’s okay, young Josh, you’ll want them to one day.” He looked back to me. “One day.”
Then he invited me up “to the house” for some afternoon tea. There were a couple of friends present, Beulah and Lilly as well as Gordon’s (Gail) boyfriend Owen, Edwina. Gordon and Owen had been together even then for an inordinate amount of time. Now it’s something like forty years.
All the he’s were she’s, girl’s names and all, I’d never heard anything like it. And while his group of friends were outrageously funny I realised I’d never be like them. They had embraced the “fluffy mohair jumper” I knew I never would. I’m sure it was the beginning of my understanding of “difference” in a world of differences.
“But, that’s one of the reasons why I like you, young Josh, you are so ‘normal’.”
“No, I’m just a different generation.”
“Quite true, my dear,” Gordon replied. “Shall we have some tea?”
Anyway, the New Year’s Eve party was a blast. I took Steve, of course. And Nick came too.
Gordon likes Nick. “Young wog boys are divine.”
All the girls were there, as Gordon liked to say. And the lads too, of which, I guess, I fitted into. Me, Steve and Nick.
“You boys keep me young,” Gordon would say.
There was food as far as the eye could see and every imaginable type of alcohol too.
“Us old girls just like a bevy, or two...”
“Or one hundred and two...”
“Cheeky,” said Gordon. “It’s what we do, darl. But there’s pills too for you young’uns, as we know you have a penchant.” Gordon hugged Nick tightly. “Something’s got to loosen that belt buckle.”
“Yay!” said Nick incredulous, flirting with Gordon, rubbing his head against Gordon's neck. “Let the monster out.”
“You tease,” said Gordon. "Come back and see me when your resistance is low." Gordon squeezed Nick hard and kissed his neck.
I asked Nick once if he minded Gordon man-handling him the way he does.
"No, he's good to me," replied Nick. "One day I'll be old and I'll want to grope something young, I'm sure." He smiled that cheeky smile. "I'm getting it in the bank."
"To name one place."
Gordon had hired two local high school lads; year twelve, 18 years old. (“Don’t you worry about that,” said Gordon. “I checked their IDs thrice”) They were to put on a midnight show, with the promise of $1000 each, nobody would touch them, they only had to strip and masturbate to ejaculation in front of the guests. No sex with old men was required.
The girls were wolf whistling and clapping, as the two boys gyrated. One of the old queens stumbled forward, hands out.
“Not a hand on that boy’s body, Beulah, or I’m calling the police,” shrieked Gordon, by this time half tanked.
They all broke into gales of laughter.
Gordon placed his drink down in front of him. “I mean it... my pet! I’m not going up the police station at some ungodly hours.”
One boy, Peter, was Greek the other, Jonathon, was a blond Aussie. Peter had scored some pills from one of the less scrupulous guests, which he fed to Jonathon and the two boys had sex in front of the assembled group, well, whacking each other off, strapping Greek buddy, blond Aussie.
It was incredibly hot.
Some rich guy gave Nick lots of attention, which turned Nick's head. He also gave Nick lots of drugs, which got him into Nick's pants, in the spare room. He gave Nick money and Nick let him fuck his arse.
"Five hundred bucks and all the drugs I could handle..."
"Or not handle."
"And he fucked me good..."
"That makes you a whore."
"Big cock, mate. Made me cum twice." Nick smiled. "The first time without touching my dick."
"You remembered the condoms..."
"Yeeeaahhh," whined Nick. "Do you think I'm stupid, or what?"
"No, just out of it."
I ended up on the beach at god knows what hour, with Steve and Gordon. Steve fell asleep on my shoulder, lying against me, my arm around him.
"He's beautiful, you know," said Gordon.
"I know."
"No, he's really beautiful," said Gordon. "So lovely. Lucky you."
"I know he is." I touched my sleeping boy's face. Gordon had tears in his eyes when I looked back to him. "Gordon?"
"Oh." He gazed out to sea. "Don't mind me, my darling. Too many gins."
I laughed.
"It just makes me just so happy," said Gordon. "Silly old fool." He sipped his drink. "I say lucky you... but, Steve’s lucky... too." He touched my face with his hand. "You're my very favourite, my darling and to see you with someone as lovely as Steve..." He blinked his eyes and fanned his face with a flat palm. "Oh." He quaffed his drink.
“It’s beautiful here,” I said. And it was, warm and fresh.
“So beautiful,” said Gordon. “The beach on a warm night, how do you beat it?”
Then there was footsteps.
“Ay?”
“Here’s trouble,” said Gordon, eagerly.
Nick came stumbling along the sand.
“I’ve been looking for you guys everywhere.”
“Well, you’ve found us,” I said.
“Come sit here,” said Gordon.
Nick sat between Gordon’s legs. “Do you love me?”
“You know I do,” said Gordon. He hugged Nick close to him.
“I love you too,” slurred Nick. Nick lay back against Gordon. Gordon's hand slid under Nick’s t-shirt and he rubbed Nick’s hairy chest. Nick closed his eyes.
“Where’s your guy?” I asked.
“Oh, he says he’s gonna call me. I don’t care if he does, or he doesn’t. He made my arse feel nice...” Nick squirmed a little in the sand for affect. “Whatever.”
“He was taken with you,” said Gordon. “He told me.”
“Aren’t they all,” murmured Nick.
Gordon gazed over at me with big eyes, then looked back at Nick.
“I’ll pretend that is the drugs talking, young Nick,” said Gordon.
“So will I.”
Steve in haled and exhaled in my ear. I slid my hand around him just a bit and played with his hair. Thick. Smooth. Soft. He was warm.
The stars twinkled in the sky.
My head spun.
Gordon is an old school queen, everything is "my darling" and "my dear." Big throat clutching hands, lots of innuendo. He’s quite flamboyant. I once asked him why and he said,
“Because I don’t give a rat’s arse darling,” he said. “They took away my rights, they tried to take away my love and then when everything seemed to be turning around and we’d all found our place in this world, along came a bloody big virus which took away more than half of my friends. Sweet, I’ve seen it all and there’s nothing left they can do to me now.” He laughed his hearty laugh. “Fuck ‘em if they can’t handle this joke.”
“You’re not a joke...”
“You are sweet, my dear. You always have been.”
Gordon is now very wealthy and he has this great house with views of the bay, just made for parties. He says there is no great secret to his wealth. He started off in retail straight out of school. He realised early on that his job wasn’t going to earn him any great amounts of money, so he studied up on investments.
“Make your money work for you, darling.”
He saved every cent he earned. Then he invested it, firstly in real estate, then shares. He was very careful, well, to start off with, he didn’t have much and he couldn’t afford to make a mistake. Then some years later with a modest nest egg he retired from work and became a full time investor.
"I wanted to work on making myself wealthy, not somebody else."
He made a truck load of money from the inner suburbs of Melbourne in the eighties. And now he has an investment portfolio, as he would say, to die for.
He’s very private about his wealth with most people.
“Darling, there’s no point giving such details to most people, they’d only want a loan, or they’d treat you differently, or they’d bitch, whichever, it’s best kept to oneself. I only tell you because I look upon you as the son I never had.”
Gordon picked me up off the beach as a teenager. I was staying with my grandma, who lived opposite Black Rock Beach. That particular afternoon gran had some business to do in the city and she’d said I could spend the afternoon on the beach. She said she’d be back for dinner. Gordon was in his thirties then and was handsome and buff. Good genes, nothing to do with anything I did, he always said.
I remember I had on a white and orange round necked shirt and blue speedos. The sun was shining, it was a beautiful day. Gordon had on shorts and a wide-brimmed hat. He just came over and started chatting to me, as I sat on the bluestone wall watching the world go by.
I’d kind of become aware of the single men cruising on the beach during my previous visits and while I tuned into their stares, which turned me on incredibly, I didn’t know to do anything in response. I instinctively knew there was a level of interest in their eyes I had not come in contact with before and I knew it meant something which excited me, but I didn’t know any more than that.
I’d always try to make for the beach whenever I was staying with my grandma, which was semi regularly, maybe once a month. She’d always go for her “constitutional” early in the morning, padding off along the beach at 6am so she was never so keen to come down to the sand when I wanted to go.
She was inclined to keep out of the sun with her English Rose complexion.
But, it was simply over Beach Road, so she said I was probably as safe there as anywhere.
Where I first was happy to lie on my towel and get a suntan, after I discovered “secret men’s business” I became too distracted to lie still on the sand. I used to walk along the footpath very nearly to the next beach, then walk back along the sand, seeing how many men’s gazes I could collect, if you like, along the way. Then I’d sit up on the bluestone wall to watch the men come and cruise me. It was a game, I thought, and it was, I just didn’t know what the finale was.
“How are you?” asked Gordon.
“I’m good,” I said, nervously.
“Well, that’s good,” said Gordon. “It’s a very lovely day.”
“Yes.”
“It’s nice sitting here, do you mind if I sit with you?”
“No. No, I don’t mind.”
“What’s your name?”
“Josh. My name is Josh.”
“That’s a lovely name. Mine is Gordon, nice to meet you.”
We shook hands. Gordon squeezed my hand in handshake like I’d never experienced before, kind of intimate, feeling skin.
He smiled and looked out to sea. “I love it when the sea is as blue as it is today. The sky, the clouds, it makes you glad to be alive.”
“Yes,” I said. "I like the warm sand between my toes, even if the squeak put my teeth on edge." I liked the way the sun-warmed concrete capping on the top of those blue stones warmed my arse and dried my damp bathers.
“So, what do you do, young Josh?”
I was in year ten. I think it was at the school holidays at the end of that year, but it could have been the holidays at the beginning of the year too, going into year ten. I can’t remember now. I should ask Gordon, he remembers all those small details. He once said that he suspected that he may have a photographic memory, but he didn’t know how to have such a thing tested, and he wasn't sure really why he would.
“I’m in year ten.”
“Oh, my goodness, so young.”
“Not so young.” And I gave Gordon a wink. I don’t know why, really, I’m not a winker. I’m sure it was my sense of humour kicking in, you know, stating the bleeding obvious, making light of what I was quickly becoming aware.
“Oh, good for you!” Gordon laughed and clapped his hands together in front of himself.
I felt a thrill of excitement that I was, knowingly or unknowingly, making my future, one of my tribe, amused. Gordon has said on more than one occasion that that wink bonded the two of us there and then. He knew we were going to be friends.
"Like a boy hustler," Gordon would say years later. "As bold as you fucken like."
The waves rolled in. The sun shone down. The seagulls shrieked. Somehow, I remember feeling, being with Gordon, that everything was going to be all right. No “danger danger Will Robinson” moments, no fear, just somehow an acknowledgment of the place we both belonged in life. Somehow, I knew my destiny had come up and sat beside me. Don’t ask me how I knew. I just knew.
“You are very handsome,” said Gordon He put his hand on my thigh and squeezed. I felt the thrill of touch and wanted to flee all at the same time. “And you fill those speedos out very fetchingly.”
I must have blushed and Gordon removed his hand.
“Oh, I’ve embarrassed you.” He laughed that infectious laugh that I would come to know warmly as Gordon. “Don’t worry my dear, you won’t come to any harm with me. Goodness, I’m old enough to be your father.” He smiled. “It’s just affection, nothing more.”
Somehow sitting there that day with Gordon I felt a sense of equality for the first time.
“But, I’ve been watching you, today and the other week when I was down here.”
I’d never seen Gordon before, I was surprised. I thought I was so clever and so aware.
"You have?"
“Quite the little tease, I thought.”
“Tease?” I asked questioningly. “I don’t know...”
“Oh, I’m sure you do.”
I shrugged. I didn’t know what he meant, not really.
“Do you have any idea why all of those men look at you down here?” He pointed to the guy sitting on his towel. And he pointed to the guy with his t-shirt wrapped around his face, standing in the shallows.
My heart raced with that question, it was almost like I’d been found out, my secret was revealed, laid open in the afternoon sun, for the seagulls to peck at.
“No.”
“Oh, young Josh, I think you do.”
“I um... I um...”
“Well... they want to take you out of those fetching speedos that you wear so well.”
And with that, my cock started to go hard, despite me. Even though I was shaking inside, I was too excited by what Gordon had just said. I moved my hand over it. Gordon noticed straight away.
“You see, I knew you did.” Gordon looked out to sea again. I remember, I thought he was handsome. He said wistfully, still gazing out over the water, “It’s okay, young Josh, you’ll want them to one day.” He looked back to me. “One day.”
Then he invited me up “to the house” for some afternoon tea. There were a couple of friends present, Beulah and Lilly as well as Gordon’s (Gail) boyfriend Owen, Edwina. Gordon and Owen had been together even then for an inordinate amount of time. Now it’s something like forty years.
All the he’s were she’s, girl’s names and all, I’d never heard anything like it. And while his group of friends were outrageously funny I realised I’d never be like them. They had embraced the “fluffy mohair jumper” I knew I never would. I’m sure it was the beginning of my understanding of “difference” in a world of differences.
“But, that’s one of the reasons why I like you, young Josh, you are so ‘normal’.”
“No, I’m just a different generation.”
“Quite true, my dear,” Gordon replied. “Shall we have some tea?”
Anyway, the New Year’s Eve party was a blast. I took Steve, of course. And Nick came too.
Gordon likes Nick. “Young wog boys are divine.”
All the girls were there, as Gordon liked to say. And the lads too, of which, I guess, I fitted into. Me, Steve and Nick.
“You boys keep me young,” Gordon would say.
There was food as far as the eye could see and every imaginable type of alcohol too.
“Us old girls just like a bevy, or two...”
“Or one hundred and two...”
“Cheeky,” said Gordon. “It’s what we do, darl. But there’s pills too for you young’uns, as we know you have a penchant.” Gordon hugged Nick tightly. “Something’s got to loosen that belt buckle.”
“Yay!” said Nick incredulous, flirting with Gordon, rubbing his head against Gordon's neck. “Let the monster out.”
“You tease,” said Gordon. "Come back and see me when your resistance is low." Gordon squeezed Nick hard and kissed his neck.
I asked Nick once if he minded Gordon man-handling him the way he does.
"No, he's good to me," replied Nick. "One day I'll be old and I'll want to grope something young, I'm sure." He smiled that cheeky smile. "I'm getting it in the bank."
"To name one place."
Gordon had hired two local high school lads; year twelve, 18 years old. (“Don’t you worry about that,” said Gordon. “I checked their IDs thrice”) They were to put on a midnight show, with the promise of $1000 each, nobody would touch them, they only had to strip and masturbate to ejaculation in front of the guests. No sex with old men was required.
The girls were wolf whistling and clapping, as the two boys gyrated. One of the old queens stumbled forward, hands out.
“Not a hand on that boy’s body, Beulah, or I’m calling the police,” shrieked Gordon, by this time half tanked.
They all broke into gales of laughter.
Gordon placed his drink down in front of him. “I mean it... my pet! I’m not going up the police station at some ungodly hours.”
One boy, Peter, was Greek the other, Jonathon, was a blond Aussie. Peter had scored some pills from one of the less scrupulous guests, which he fed to Jonathon and the two boys had sex in front of the assembled group, well, whacking each other off, strapping Greek buddy, blond Aussie.
It was incredibly hot.
Some rich guy gave Nick lots of attention, which turned Nick's head. He also gave Nick lots of drugs, which got him into Nick's pants, in the spare room. He gave Nick money and Nick let him fuck his arse.
"Five hundred bucks and all the drugs I could handle..."
"Or not handle."
"And he fucked me good..."
"That makes you a whore."
"Big cock, mate. Made me cum twice." Nick smiled. "The first time without touching my dick."
"You remembered the condoms..."
"Yeeeaahhh," whined Nick. "Do you think I'm stupid, or what?"
"No, just out of it."
I ended up on the beach at god knows what hour, with Steve and Gordon. Steve fell asleep on my shoulder, lying against me, my arm around him.
"He's beautiful, you know," said Gordon.
"I know."
"No, he's really beautiful," said Gordon. "So lovely. Lucky you."
"I know he is." I touched my sleeping boy's face. Gordon had tears in his eyes when I looked back to him. "Gordon?"
"Oh." He gazed out to sea. "Don't mind me, my darling. Too many gins."
I laughed.
"It just makes me just so happy," said Gordon. "Silly old fool." He sipped his drink. "I say lucky you... but, Steve’s lucky... too." He touched my face with his hand. "You're my very favourite, my darling and to see you with someone as lovely as Steve..." He blinked his eyes and fanned his face with a flat palm. "Oh." He quaffed his drink.
“It’s beautiful here,” I said. And it was, warm and fresh.
“So beautiful,” said Gordon. “The beach on a warm night, how do you beat it?”
Then there was footsteps.
“Ay?”
“Here’s trouble,” said Gordon, eagerly.
Nick came stumbling along the sand.
“I’ve been looking for you guys everywhere.”
“Well, you’ve found us,” I said.
“Come sit here,” said Gordon.
Nick sat between Gordon’s legs. “Do you love me?”
“You know I do,” said Gordon. He hugged Nick close to him.
“I love you too,” slurred Nick. Nick lay back against Gordon. Gordon's hand slid under Nick’s t-shirt and he rubbed Nick’s hairy chest. Nick closed his eyes.
“Where’s your guy?” I asked.
“Oh, he says he’s gonna call me. I don’t care if he does, or he doesn’t. He made my arse feel nice...” Nick squirmed a little in the sand for affect. “Whatever.”
“He was taken with you,” said Gordon. “He told me.”
“Aren’t they all,” murmured Nick.
Gordon gazed over at me with big eyes, then looked back at Nick.
“I’ll pretend that is the drugs talking, young Nick,” said Gordon.
“So will I.”
Steve in haled and exhaled in my ear. I slid my hand around him just a bit and played with his hair. Thick. Smooth. Soft. He was warm.
The stars twinkled in the sky.
My head spun.
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