Coda Josh Grant

I went jogging in the cold morning air, the punters were already manoeuvring their cars and getting on and off trams. My legs were cold, my thighs were red. The streets were busy, the light melancholy. Thud thud, thud, sounded my feet on the foot path. A cool breeze rushed up the loose legs of my shorts. I find it sexy, but you can't jog with a hardon, no sir! It made me feel like a man, though. Thud, thud thud, sounded my feet in those empty chasms that are the early morning CBD streets, office in sight. I take a shower, hoping to cop sight of Marco. Truthfully, Marco was the furthest thing from my mind, it is only now sitting back here late at night writing about it, sure Marco was there, in nothing but a towel.

It was a cold day. I lit a fire in the open fire place in my room and stayed in bed. I drank coffee and ate baked beans. I didn't leave the house. I smoked pot and whacked off all day. Chubby kept me company. Daniel laughed when he got home late and told me I looked like a stoner from hell, as I staggered into the kitchen in my dressing gown to say g'day. He rolled his eyes and said he wants my life.

Never stop stopping, that’s what they say, never stop stopping. Never stop stopping. Never stop until you stop. You have to keep stopping, never stop, never stop, never stop.

The apocalypse didn't happen, I'm disappointed. I was looking forward to a great end of the world. Apparently, it's now October 21st. Something to look forward to, hey?

I puffed away first thing, I didn't even bother to get out of my robe. Daniel said I couldn't start the day off with the last cigarette, it just doesn't work that way. “We can only smoke it once, you know.” “My once, not yours.” What does he know? Oh yes, he's a doctor. “You piss off the owner of the cigarette and he kills you.”

I started smoking again. I’m a bad boy. I can’t say that around Matthew, “I’m a bad boy.” It gets him going. The next time I look around he is in a dog choker and tight leather shorts, not even zipped up that's how keen it makes him. Big muscly puppy, on all fours, with his cotton tail wriggling. His parents are still happily married and all. Although, they were both lefty teachers. So, I don't reckon he can blame his childhood. No one touched him, or treated him badly, in fact from all accounts his childhood was all sunshine and good times, being cosseted and well looked after. He is such a handsome lad. The tight leather shorts slide half way down the backs of his thick thighs before I slide my finger into his hairy arse crack. I lick my finger and then slide it right into him up to my knuckle, and he slide down onto his elbows keeping his arse up in the air. And I have my finger all the way into him and he moans and pushes back on it as if he is trying to get more of it insi...

I quit, after a weekend of smoking pot, too. Matt and I got on the choof. We didn’t mean to. It all started with Jumbo doing deliveries, so we said yes. How long had it been? I’m taking that boy down the road to ruin, I’m already guilty of sending that boy to uni stoned. I tasted like a ruin. I couldn’t face one this morning because of it. I'm a good boy.

I got up early and headed to the gym. When I say I got up early, you understand that means 6am. I was at work by 9am.  I put on my favourite tight t-shirt, it feels good hugging my chest and it feels good across my stomach. I put on my old running shorts, the ones I know are wide in the legs, the ones I know show off my jocks well when I sit down. I put on my sexy red jocks. I wanted to be dirty. I wanted to be sexy. I wanted to see who'd be looking at the bulge in my jocks.  There were a few guys in the gym, not many though. They were all head down and working. I sat on a bench and did weights, spread my legs and my jocks bulged out the right leg of my blue shorts. I've got a big dick and great legs. My bulge was big and dirty. I felt sexy. I love that feeling, cock to the wind, bulging out, watching for the eyes, watching for the eyes to drop, even if it's only momentarily, catching them perving, catching them.  Makes me feel alive. There was one sexy guy, no shirt, loo...

There was one sexy guy, no shirt, loose shorts, cream jocks, hugging his hot arse, around his thick, hairy thighs. He had a nice bulge when he lay on the floor and did sit ups. Good grunt as he pumped his weights. He kind of snorted, as he heaved and the sweat dripped from his face, drip by drip from his chin. I watched his stomach muscles contract as he lifted his chest off the floor. I love that shorts waistband look on taught skin, it is sexy. There were a couple of boyfriends training together, well, that's what I reckon they were. I guess if they were a couple of straight mates they may have been, um surprised. And there was an effeminate little queen mincing around the training room who's eye I had caught. He was gazing over at me with doleful eyes, some time staring at me in the mirrors, as he lifted weights. Not my type, really not. I don't go for girlie twinks. I had to go take a dump, half way through. When I came out of the cubicle the little girlie bitch was loi...