Coda Josh Grant

Tommy came over early this morning, he said just to see what I was doing. I'd already had a joint, a few, Nick left it the other night. "What are you up to?" "Nothing much." Tommy had on a singlet and 3 stripe tracksuit pants and a baseball cap backwards, he couldn't have looked any cuter. "I just thought I'd come over and..." He smiled and looked at me "that" way with his puppy dog eyes once too often. There was silence, a still moment between us. I couldn't help myself. I pushed him backwards up against the wall and pashed him. Soft lips, stubble chin. He pashed back, he didn't struggle. I love that moment where hesitation turns to desire. "I want to," he whispered low and husky. I slid my hand into the front of his track suit pants, soft, thick sausage, hairy balls, hairy pubes. He groaned. I slid my hand down the back of his trackies to his hairy arse. That round, firm arse felt as good as it looked. He groaned a...

Ben and Nick and I went and played pool. Steve didn't want to come, he had work he needed to get done. Ben said he'd meet us there and, of course, I was running late. Ben's good in gay bars, though. Nick and I have dressed him up on several occasions and taken him to gay clubs. We give him a few drinks and treat him like our very own Ken doll, well, Blaine doll. He's blond. I remember one Mardi Gras we dressed him in the tiniest pair of little shorts, gave him something, and then gave him more of something else, and he had a great time. He's got a great arse and a great lunch, our Ben, and sexy, good thighs, too. He loved the attention, he got lots. We've always kept our eye on him – sexy, out of it, shaggy-blond-haired straight boy on the dance floor in nothing but tiny shorts, you can guess what could happen? He's been pashed and touched up by strangers and he hasn't shrunk away. "I don't want it to stop." "Which part, Ben?" ...

It's hot and sticky, just hot and sticky. I can't sleep. I'm liking summer less and less and we haven't got into the full detrimental effects of global warming yet. It's going to be putrid. We're never going to sleep again. Ever, in our lives. Melbourne is really humid now, where once it never was. It used to cool down at night, but not any longer. I wish I had more pot. I guess that's not the answer. We're all going to have to move to Tasmania, and cohabitate with the two heads.

Steve had had such a bad day, everything that could go wrong did, apparently. He came into the kitchen and whispered in my ear, "What I need is a fuck to help me forget the day." He disappeared up to the front of the house. By the time I got up there, he'd taken off his suit pants and was rubbing lube into his arse. He grabbed my shirt and pulled me towards him. "Fuck me, will ya?" His voice sounded urgent. "I so need to be fucked!" I pulled back. I stroked his face with my hand, he's got beautiful skin. "Steady on stud, what happened to the romance?" I couldn't help but laugh, he looked so serious. He grabbed my belt and undid the buckle. "I'll buy you flowers tomorrow." He unzipped my fly.

Murray and Bruno were happy to pose for some shots. I love those two, they are so uninhibited.

The doorbell sounded, early. Steve and I were still in bed. I said just to ignore it, but Steve couldn't let it go. Don't know why? He can't let the phone ring out, either. "It'll be some overzealous Mormon, or someone, trying to save your soul," I said. “Either way, it will be someone wanting money.” Steve stepped out of bed and pulled on a pair of jocks. “I’ll get rid of them, then,” he said. He pulled on a hoodie and headed to the door in that and a pair of jocks. "Nice look, babe." I called after him. I heard to door open, and I heard Steve make some sort of exclamation. I think I heard him say, you had better comin in, then. Steve led a very drunk Tommy in by the hand. "A very worse for wear young Tommy." Steve announced him like he was on Sale of the Century. Tommy blushed, standing in the bedroom doorway. Was he blushing, or was his face flushed from too much alcohol, I presume? I wasn't sure which. Steve pulled off his hoodie an...

Steve and I smoked pot and then went walking through the city. It was a warm night, nice. We held hands. The Carlton Gardens is like the ferns at the side of the forest. The Exhibition Gardens rise up to the cathedral roof. St Patrick's oddly enough the connection. The Fitzroy Gardens the heart of the forest. The Treasury Gardens the fairy dell coming out the other side. We laughed all the way. Being stupid, funny. Steve looked so happy. I felt so happy. The city shone, it sparkled. Trees lined our path. It was fun, very cool, romantic. The rest of the world could have faded away. The rest of the world did fade away.

Steve was standing in my doorway looking as cute as cute can be. “Hi honey, you're home,” I said. I kissed his lips. “What have you been doing all week?” His tone was accusational. “Um?” I kissed him instead. “It’s not a hard…” I kissed him again. “You must have something…” I kiss him again. I kept kissing him each time he tried to speak. He told me I was cheating, so I asked him what the rules were? He stopped, thought, and laughed because he knew I had him. Then decided, wisely, that kissing me was a much better tact. I had to agree. He'd bought Nandos. He tried to make out that not only had he been to work, but he'd got dinner as well. “I earn the money, and I provide the meal,” he said. I agreed he was now the alpha male in the relationship. He said he didn't want to be. "Oh baby, does it feel strange?" He slapped me, tenderly. “It’s you job to look after me,” he said. I touched his face with my fingers. He has the softest skin. He has the most beautiful e...

I went to see Alice in Wonderland with Steve, Bruno and Murray and Nick at Imax. It was Nick’s idea. Oh, not only his idea, but he was the most enthusiastic. I wanted to hate it, but didn’t. It was quite good. It's not the original Alice in Wonderland story, it's an interpretation of what could have come next, or something. I haven't seen the original in years, so it was all a bit vague to me, to tell you the truth. Visually it was great. It kept my attention. I didn’t feel bore at all. It is nice to go to the local iMax.

Lachlan has developed a penchant for tiny little stretch shorts that  cling to his amazing body. Wouldn't his footy mates be amazed if they sore him dressed like this. Nothing is left to the imagination in this outfit.

Tommy had on a pair of white jogging shorts, he was doing stretches on his front fence when I headed out for a run myself. They were tight across his sexy arse and looked like they were struggling to keep his big bulge covered. "They're a bit tight, aren't they?" I called over to him. He looked up suddenly, looked down at his shorts then looked back at me and smiled. "Well, they got your attention, didn't they?" He laughed. "Actually, mum and dad have been OS for nearly a month now and I've got no clean clothes left." He looked back down at the front of his shorts, then looked back up at me again. "They're an old school pair. I thought I'd get away with them." "Oh yeah... you pull it off, okay." We were now face to face in the middle of the street and Tommy blushed, as I looked up from the bulge in the white material. "You'll get a lot of attention in them that's for sure." "Coming running?...

Boy, did it rain. Fuck me! Did it come down. The day went black. The world outside went mad. Rocks, it would seem, crashed down from the sky. The roof crackled with the rain drops. Steve and I stood by a window and held hands, without thinking, as it did; standing on the inside looking out – warm and dry watching the world drip and gush – like motion sickness, warm and dry watching the world drown. We smoked pot and watched DVD's until late. I'm catching up on the pile I have waiting to be watched. Steve brought the pot, he got it from a client. You could have pushed me over with a feather. Usually, it's tut-tut that stuff will rot your brain. I like him on pot, he got very cuddly. He smelt good, he always does, though. I love smelling his face and his hair... then I know it's him. I lick his ear, but he jumps, every time. He's got the softest skin, I like rubbing my nose on it. To tell you the truth, I like rubbing my nose on any part of him.

Nick and I met at our favourite Italian restaurant in the city for dinner, Romanos. Nicks tells me, on the phone in the afternoon, that he can spare two hours and not a minute more, as he has a date with a married truck driver back at his place. Nick’s on time, I’m late. You don’t think that escapes comment, something about no longer having an actual excuse to blame my tardiness on. Nick looks a million dollars, as per usual. “Let’s order. Hetro truck drivers wait for no man.” We both order pasta, Mama’s out in the kitchen, after all and is the reason we frequent the said establishment. Nick tut-tutts at the suggestion of two glasses of red. “Just bring the bottle, my good man.” He hands the menus back without looking in the waiter’s direction. “I’ll be needing a good chug of liquor to get me in the mood for Kevin.” Nick shook his head at his own indifference and turned to the waiter. “I’m sorry...” Nick stopped and waited. “Angelo?” The waiter offered. Nick looked at me and winked, th...

I was pissing around at home, when my (long time ago) buddy Michael Merrill called out of the blue. I hadn't heard from him in ages, don’t know where he got my number. (Actually, I do, indirectly through Mike) I always thought he was cute, really cute, but we were only ever friends. Michael was drunk, he told me he always thought I was cute. That was the first I’d ever heard of that. I think the implication was that he wanted to hook up. “Why didn’t we ever get together?” he slurred into the phone. Seriously, I thought, I would have fucked you in a heartbeat. "I just never got those signals from you, Michael." And I never did. "Oh. Hmm?" slurred Michael. “Shame.” He told me about cams. He said I could see him on them. He was really drunk, and he went on and about the cams. To tell you the truth, the idea of seeing Michael wack off on cams got me excited. He's getting married, of all things. He claimed he was always bi on the phone but, you know, in all the t...

Nigel bought some new blue shorts that looked really good on him. He said that since he spent most of his life in running shorts, he needed to buy a few pairs. He modelled them all for me. I gave wolf whistles and scores out of 10. I think I managed to embarrass him a couple of times.

What to do today? I can't smoke dope and masturbate all day like I did yesterday. I mean, one days okay, but I can't set that up as my preoccupation for my time off. No sir! It's a beautiful day, like it was yesterday. Time to get out and smell the air and see what's going on. I should go for a run. I might go look for Tommy. I think it is about time he discovered what life is all about... so to speak. It must be time he got a bit going on. He, he. I saw him yesterday in the smallest pair of blue shorts, going running, the boy's hot. I love being in my thirties, you can make a pass at someone without the debilitating angst of your twenties. And even if he said no, which I'm sure he won't, I now have the tools and the knowledge to massage the no into a yes. You know, it would no longer be a devastation, but rather a challenge. And, just in case you are wondering what Steve thinks about my dirty intensions, he thinks it would be good for Tommy. So, how’s that,...