Coda Josh Grant

Steve came over tonight after work. I opened the door to his smiling face. I tilted my head and drank him in. He smiled. "What?" I shrugged. "I'm just looking at you." He smiled and tilted his head the other way. "So, can we kiss, yet?" He pushed me back against the wall and looked me in the eye. I gazed at him, still for the moment, only our eyes moving, scanning, looking, waiting. I could hear his breath. "I reckon we can," I said. "I'd be willing to risk it." “You’d be willing to risk it?” Our lips locked, our tongues pushed against each other. “I’ve missed that,” I said. “Me too.” I had a fire burning. I was watching a dvd. He snuggled up next to me on the couch, we kissed for the first time in a week. He lay in my arms. I undid his shirt buttons, and slid my hand onto his chest. He nuzzled into me. It was nice. He smelt good. He felt good.

This is what I like about Steve. He's built exactly to be played with. And play with him I do. He's good at it. He's really good at it, and he is built just the way I like.

Steve stripping down just after he got home. from the gym. I couldn't help myself even before he had a shower. Well, you don’t want to wash off everything that you like the smell of.

Steve came over late last night. He was a bit pissed. "So, we can't kiss hey?" “My cold sore isn’t completely healed, yet. Sorry.” He pushes me back on the couch and kneels over me, straddling my legs with his. He puts one leg between mine and one leg on the outside and pushes his crotch into mine. He knows I love it. “Hey baby.” We rub our hardons together, while Steve kisses the top of my head. I grab his arse, as our hard shafts move across each other. I nuzzle his stomach and I nuzzle his nipples with my nose. “Ahh!” Steve moans. He pulls my track suit pants down and sucks my hard cock into his mouth. He sucks up and down my stiff shaft. He sucks my knob, oh it felt good. He slides off his pants, in a sexy strip. He gyrates around in his pale blue jocks, moving close enough for me to cup his hard bulge, then moves away. He has on a white jock strap underneath. He slides his jocks down. The white straps are tight around his around arse, around his sexy ...

I have had a cold sore for a few days, bastard, horrible thing, so I have discouraged Steve from coming over. I told him, if I can't kiss him I don't want to see him. Not sure how pleased the he was about it? But it's true. If I see him, I want to kiss him. It would just be torture, to have him so close and not be able to get as close as I want. So, he had to stay at his place. I never got them until a number of years ago, must have kissed the wrong skank. I hate them. I am that stereotypical guy who wants to wear a motorbike helmet until it heals. Balaclava, paper bag, a low sitting turban, it doesn’t much matter. I’m wretched until it heals. “Don’t look at me, Don’t look at me, I am horrible!” My mouth becomes out of bounds, I even have trouble licking my lips, so my lips end up drying up, like the nose of a sick puppy. Fortunately, I don’t get them very often. But, Grrrrr, it is nothing but self-loathing until it is gone.

Steve texting me from the tram on his way home to get changed, saying he has to go to a meeting and then out to a work dinner, but he was horny and knew what else he'd like to be doing. I text him back dirty messages, what I'd do to him if he wagged the meeting and the dinner and came over here. He text back, "Stop it! Stop it! You've given me a boner that won't go away." (That's my boy) He said he tried adjusting it and some old guy noticed and was now giving him the eye, which he said was even more annoying as it really didn't help. Apparently, the old guy moved closer and was staring at him intently. "Just spread your legs, honey and give the old boy a thrill." I text back. "Think stripper music. Think my hot hand down your pants around your stiffy." "Would you quit!" came the reply. "This old guy is now looking at me like I'm a hamburger as if he hasn't eaten all day." "Lie back and thi...

I happened to tell Ali that Daniel was staying, when we were chatting on the phone. So, last night she turned up a bit pissed and the next thing I'm listening to her getting bang stupid all night. I'm glad I could be of service, Miss Ali. That girl? She had the biggest smile on her face as we ate breakfast, after Daniel had left for work. "I so needed that," she said. Then she laughed, kind of semi-hysterically. She threw her head back and shook her hair. She giggled very contentedly, as though she was remembering something in particular, then she lowered her gaze slowly to meet mine. "Your brother is so hot." "He's just split up with his long term girlfriend." "I know." She smiled broadly. "The best time to get them. You know, it's like it's all new again. The starved camel drinking at the water hole for the first time in an eon." "That's great, Ali." “Which aspect do you want me to share?” I could fee...

I wake up early, the sun is shining in through my French doors. Chubby is lying on his back with his paws in the air at the end of the bed. I look at the digital display of my bedside clock, and it's not so early. I wonder if my body clock is slipping. I'm nice and warm under the covers. I wonder if I'll ever get out of bed. I fell asleep with the TV on. There is some terrible morning TV playing. No wonder the suicide rate is so high, if people watch these people in the mornings, the embodiment of beige sucking the life completely out of life. I struggle to find the remote control in amongst the doona, it becomes critical when the screen suddenly goes to a live infomercial. Chubby rolls over and is looking at me with one eye open. I find the remote just in time. Boof, the TV goes black. I lay my head back on the pillow instead. The warmth returns. My nose is blocked. There is a tickle at the back of my throat. Don’t think about it, I think. Ha ha. I pull the...

Guy's in undies is my fetish. I reckon I find that the sexiest look. That and guys in jeans with a bare torso, that’s pretty sexy too. I've unashamedly collected undies along the way. Tim's, Daniel's, Ben's, Patrick's, Alexander's. I've masturbated as I sniffed them, I admit it. Alexander's had an unmistakable foreskin smell to them at the front. I could smell Patrick's sexy arse as I held the back of his to my face. Tim's smelt like sweat, you know, that between the legs sweat. Mike gave me the pair he was wearing the other night, calling me a skank. Then he admitted to stealing chick’s undies, he'd been with, so he said he wasn't in a position to judge. Mike sucks on the crotch as he wanks. Yeah, nice. Ben once masturbated into a pair and then gave them to me, filthy boy. He was drunk. Ha, ha. I talked dirty to him, at a drug-fest boy’s night. There were no girl’s there and Ben went into the toilet and banged one out while I waited...

Rowan is no shy, in fact he loves nothing more than stripping down to his jock in a group of gay guys. We all gave him a group massage last time his stripped all his clothes off. He was getting hands every where which he didn't seem to mind, even if he kept his undies on

Steve has a lovely sausage, it is one of my favourite of all time. It gets really hard like a solid banana, and it has the same girth all the way along from one end to the other.

Steve looks good in white trunks as well. They show him off really well. I like Steve in white trunks

Ewan was really drunk when he stripped down to his white jocks and showed us how well endowed that he is.

Daniel, arrived late Sunday night, around midnight. He looked a bit red-eyed and he didn’t seem at all happy. “You up still?” “Sure.” “Can I come in?” “Can you come in? Why so formal?” “Don’t piss around, Josh.” “Come in.” He harrumphed past, which was out of character for Daniel. He was definitely out of sorts. “What’s up?” “Nothing.” “Yeah, clearly, I can see that.” “Everything is fine, I just need somewhere to crash for tonight?” "Sleep?" "Yeah." “Sure,” I said. “Fine with me.” “Thanks bud.” He headed up the hallway in front of me to the lounge room. “And we can play these nothing-wrong-with-Daniel games all night, if you like, or you can just tell me up front what the problem is?” He turned to look at me by the coffee table. “You got any pot?” “Yes… but don’t change the subject.” “Is Steve coming over?” “No, it’s past midnight, he’d be here already…” “Where’s the pot?” “Tell me what’s wrong first?” “Don’t be a fuck, Josh! Roll me a joint.” “Okay, okay. Keep your...

Ah George, he looks just as good in trunks and briefs as he does in boxers. He was letting more show than he intended, but he really didn't seem to care

Tommy came over mid morning in his blue trackie pants, with the three white stripes and a black hoodie, which stopped short just above his waist. He looked adorable. The tracksuit pants hugged him. I told him once how good they looked on him and he seems to wear them often now. “Hi, watcha doing?” The sun was shining, the sky was blue, even if it wasn’t so warm and here was Mr Gorgeous with his head tilted sideways, like he does when he’s asked a question and is waiting for an answer. “Waiting for you... Tommo.” He smiled his gorgeous smile, where the grin just spreads across his face organically, like a bloom, like a realisation. “I just thought I’d come over and hang. Okay?” He looked adorable, I wanted to lick him, but, I find, I stand back a little with Tommy. Oh, I don’t know why? I think there is a small part of me that thinks I’m taking advantage of him, you know, just across the road, home delivered whenever I might choose. It’s stupid really. I stepped back and motioned with m...

Mike and I went out and got smashed on beer playing pool. We got home late, singing, holding each other up. We both crashed on the couch, next to each other, shoulders touching. We put on music and talked shit, as the wee small hours ticked away. There was a lull in the conversation and it was getting really late. “You were pretty good at giving head, I remember.” Mike rubbed his crotch. “What are you saying?” He looked down at the bulge in his jeans, then back up at me. “Oh, well, it won’t suck itself.” We gaze at each other eye to eye. "What?" He looked down. "Come on, you were good at it uni..." "Once, Mike..." "Oh, come on, suck my cock, aren't you supposed to want to?" He held the outline of his hard on tight in the denim. "Are you serious?" He looked up again. "We're the only two here and we're both adults... you liked my cock, that night." He rubbed his hard cock through his pants. "Are, that night?...

Of course, I masturbate every day. Ah the times of the unemployed, your masturbation ratio goes through the roof, I can attest to that. Well, what else are us boys expected to do when we're bored? Well, not bore, have time on our hands... literally. It's cheap, it's easy and from all recent reports it's good for you. I can stay up until dusk watching porn. I can eat my breakfast watching cams. I can go back to bed for a mid morning pull. I think I’m addicted to sex, or is it just masturbation? Aren't all guys, though? Certainly, a little pot and it’s out of control. It's not addiction just because you are good at it? Sometimes I walk up Collins Street and think, Most of these guys have probably jerked off today. Here they are in their suits, well groomed and well presented, but sometime in the last few hours they have, makes an up and down motion with his hand.

Steve is such a sexy boy. You should have seen what came out just after I took this shot. Sext Steve alright

That's how I like my guys dressed the best This is the sexiest look on a guy. And Steve pulls he look off perfectly.

Steve wanted to go running… what? But, it’s Sunday. “You’re in my world now Sunshine, let’s go eat,” I said lying back in the bed. “I see,” said Steve. “Exercise sets you up for the day.” “So, does a big breakfast at Josie’s,” I said. “We can take Butch and Buddy. We ate breakfast at an outdoor table, we shared The Age. I always wanted to be one of those people, who lounge over their weekend breakfast on some outside table breaking up parts if the newspaper which they share I leant Steve one of my jumpers, as he said he’d be cold. I like it when he wears my cloths, something about the combination of smells, I think. It becomes a hybrid of the both of us, it would be how our children smelled, or something, like that. Ha, ha. Maybe? I kept looking up and watching Steve reading his newspaper, it kept occurring to me how lucky I am. It's nice. This is nice, I thought. The look of your boyfriend has to be appreciated. Sexy. Cute. Able to be licked, at any moment. "What?" he sa...

Oh, that was a night, we were all rat-arsed, that is for sure. We put on Enigma and the glass pie got passed around and around. Ewan got his hand down another guy's jocks for the first time.

I told Steve that Thai people live in harmony, they live well and were very welcoming in nature – I’d been researching on the internet, big smile – as he snatched the mull bowl off the table and was turning to take it away to parts unknown... away from me. He flashed those eyes at me, his don’t-fuck-with-me eyes. He has don’t-fuck with-me eyes, they are adorable, he smoulders. It’s a glance, sideways more often than not, a flash, I tell you the whites of his eyes glow. I’ve learnt to be on my guard, don’t totally disarm, proceed with caution, when I get that look. “Where are you going with that sweet heart?” “Just cleaning up.” He’s a serious boy, my Steve. It seems Josh’s planed fun could be unexpectedly curtailed from an as-before unaccounted for front. “I hadn’t finished with that.” On this occasion, on decidedly shaky ground, Mr Office and Tie decided, wisely, as he was in the (stoned) bears actual cave, to retreat... exasperated smile, he hands it back to me. “I’m turning into my ...

Ah Steve, that's my guy, Come on, dive right in the water is fine.

I like loose undie elastic, you know when the elastic is old and no longer holds, and it slides down over my arse to half way, it makes me feel slutty for the rest of the day. It’s a turn on. Takes my thoughts... um... er, down there. It makes a walk, say along Smith Street, or Burke Road – I'm doing some consulting for a small legal company – way more interesting. An old, worn out pair of jocks... hours of joy. Swing those hips. Walk like a whore. I love a guy in his jocks, I’m a sucker for them. Even a sneak peek at his elastic out of his jeans. I can honestly say, any man, straight or gay, looks hot in his undies, legs, arse, his shaft pushing out from inside. It’s was the first painful, unobtainable lust objects, the boys at my private school in the change room in their undies, I remember then vividly... sexy, hairy, tight little arses. I’d go home every night after footy practice and whack off over any one of the guys in the change rooms. I had my loose undies on whe...

Murray came over late, just popped in. "Hey, how's it going?" said Murray's nervously beaming face, on the porch, the flood light over head shadowing his ringing hands on the tiled floor. "Good Murray, come in." He went in ahead of me. Six foot boys, you can notice the difference. "Tea?" "Nah, just passing. On my way home." "Oh. Okay." He didn't leave me much room to pretend he was there for anything other than what I knew he was there for. Predator-Murray eyes were switched on all the time he was there; flash, spark, glint, glow, hues of magenta subtly around his dazzling blue corneas. We chatted a bit, “What are you doing?” “What are you doing?” “Nice to catch up.” “Nice to catch up.” “We should more often?” “Yes, we should.” "You know that guy, the other night..." Straight to business. "Yeah, who was here with us?" "Yeah, him." What are you going to say? Is this going to be a direct hit, or a...

Murray and Bruno dropped over, it was good to see them. The two of them have been overseas holidaying, it was time off, now, that Bruno has finished his degree. Murray and Bruno, are the cutest couple of boyfriends I know, I reckon. Murry is a cop, a gay cop. Murray was on duty one night and Bruno was brought in for suspected prostitution. Bruno always laughs at this point in the story, gets uncomfortable and, generally, asks for the telling of the story to cease, before Murray gets to the, um, point of the story, not that Murray tells that story, much, any longer. "I'm not really ashamed of it," said Bruno, once. He shrugged. “I was a couple years older than the other guys at uni, I’d given up work to go back to study. I was giving it away every weekend, anyway. Some guy at a bar offered me $200 to fuck him and it seemed like an easy option to get a few of the luxuries I’d been used to.” “So, what happened?” “When I tried to hock it one night out, high on crystal, the on...

Tommy in his track pants, he wears them well. Track pants on him are always a good look. 

My mate Ali has been on an enthusiastic bedding-the-boys for a couple of months. She says it has been great. “I’ve never been such a... a... slut!” “Enthusiast.” “So many cocks.” She has been split up from her cheating husband, David, for a year now and she just said it was time for her to move on. “Oh, you know, eventually it’s just up to you,” she said. “You’ve just got to start thinking about other things and living again.” “Absolutely.” “Nothing is going to change from there.” She tilted her head and smiled. “The place you find yourself.” She shrugged and then shook her head. “But you.” “It’s the sudden change, spins your head.” “What do they say, pick yourself up, dust yourself off…” “And get back on the horse.” “Get used to flinging your own leg over, because the guy who used to lift you up…” She raised her eyebrows, exhaled picked up her glass of wine and took a chug. She just happened to come over a few weeks ago to drop off some legal documents I was looking over for her, whe...

Steve didn't know that I took this photo. I have to say, I like him dressed this way. He looks good, don't you think?

Ah Tuesday, what to do? I'm getting up later and later, the 7am drill has left me. Ten thirty is always a nice time to get up, a fraction earlier would be great too. Ah, the kitchen in the relative gentleness of the soft morning light, with no where I have to go. Grind coffee beans, pour milk over my muesli, feel the soft fur of my cat, Milo, rubbing against my ankles. Roll a joint, gently chastising myself and promising that I won’t tomorrow morning. Tomorrow I will be smoke free. Tomorrow I will be smoke free. Tomorrow I will be smoke free. Tomorrow I will be smoke free. Tomorrow I will be smoke free… I must tell Nick not to bring any over. Last time I said no, he said, “Oh, indulge me, it's what I'd like to be doing, let me,” he said “It is the 21st Century gay boy version of mangiare! Mangiare!” Tommy came over, he looked adorable in black shorts and a black t-shirt and a black baseball cap on backwards and black runners. We watched, This Is It, Michael Jackson, togethe...

Do you know what it is like to be thirty something and independently wealthy? Wealthy, I laugh, have a modest, sustainable income. I’ve paid off my house, paid off my car and invested some money. Actually, I have never paid off a car, I always waited until I could pay cash for them. Cars are such a waste of money. I'm guessing my 2 year old GTI Golf will last me for a considerable time. Ah, it's going to have to. I worked hard, climbed the corporate ladder. It wasn't so hard, I'm smart. I just had to put in the time, so it seemed to me, the rest took care of itself. I was naturally in possession of a work ethic that told me to do everything properly, not sure why? I guess that was my parents. You'd be surprised how many of my co-workers get by on being seen to do the right thing, continually balancing on a foundation that was, essentially, made out of sand. Those people get into the politics of it all and concentrate on building their reputations by a wing and a pra...

Steve stayed all weekend, except for Saturday night. We did the breakfast thing out, coffee, eggs and the newspaper. Reading, not talking, like all the hip couples. Two mornings. Steve purred like a pussy cat the whole time. I hate to say it, because it’s such a cliché and doesn’t really mean anything at all, but I’ve now seen it in 3 boyfriends, bottoms get feisty without even knowing it, without being satisfied. I never used to believe it, but I can see it as a cycle in Steve. I reckon it’s 3 days, his cycle. He needs to be screwed every 3 days to keep his equilibrium in balance, to keep him a nicer person, to keep him the gorgeous lovely Steve, to keep him smiling. Otherwise, he gets needy without even realising. He headed to the laundry Sunday night, to get his shirts for the week, and to take them into his office, so he can ride his bike in the mornings and shower once he’s at work.

Bailey always thought of himself as Superman, right from when he was a teenager and captain of his footy team. "Faster than a speeding bullet, and all that." Except Bailey was blond, and guys used to laugh at him because of his hair. Who had ever heard of a blond Superman? Nobody, that was the problem.

Steve had a business dinner to go to, so Nick and I hung out for the night. I lit a fire and Nick rolled the joints and poured the wine. He rolled joints up to the time we were leaving the house to get dvds and food. It had got dark and the air had a chill like winter was close. We were shit-faced as we walked slowly down the footpath. “I’m maggoted.” “It’s better that way,” says Nick. “Reality is a bitch.” “I see I have taught you well.” "Ha, ha. Who taught who?" We went to the dvd shop and got, what would turn out to be, five crap dvds. But, it was an excuse to smoke dope into the wee small hours and they were cheap. Then we headed to the Vietnamese take away for food, across the road. I don’t know who chooses their male waiters, but they were both hot. I was so shitfaced by this stage that I pushed my back up against the wall and just propped. There’s the pretty shaved head boy, who’s all smiley and smooth. But the other one has thick black hair, a nice smile and boysy att...