Coda Josh Grant

It is going well with Ben. We are natural lovers. Lovers is a funny word, it is supposed to mean people who are in love with each other, but what it really means is people who love each other physically. I love everything about Ben, there is nothing I don’t like. There is no part of him, inside, or out, that I haven’t touched. Nick says it is still the honeymoon period. Whatever, it feels good. But, maybe not going so well with Ben’s mother. She seems to have been giving me the cold shoulder for the longest time. She talks to me in a clipped kind of way, as though she is seething just below the surface, but managing to keep a calm demeanour none the less. I just agreed with her, whatever she says, and she never escalates. She even turns her back on me, literally, in conversations. She doesn't seem to like me, although she’d deny it. I simply amuse myself with what I am doing to her golden haired boy. When she is being particularly insensitive, I just think about kissing his face, h...

One of the partners at work, Gabriel Knight, propositioned me at Friday night drinks. He noticed me the first day I started, in fact, he was one of the guys who did my interview. If I saw him behind his wife's back, he'd see what he could do about pay rises and promotions for me, not that he could promise anything. He heard I was good, anyway, so it wouldn't really be wrong, just like having a fan. “You shouldn't let your good looks go to waste.” “My good looks?” I repeated. I was taken aback, truthfully. This morning when I looked in the mirror I thought I looked 100 years old, as I tried to pull my face into a more pleasing shape. “You could be my fancy boy.” I'm a bit fucking old to be someone's fancy boy, is all I could think. "Is it going to go against me if I say no?" "Oh, good god know, nothing like that," he said. "It would just work for both of us." I'm practically a married man, I wanted to say, but I stopped myself. I...

Kaye Marion. Slim, beautiful, in a well live 45 year old way. Smokes. Stylish. Wears mini skirts. Long, messy hair, looks like she has just been fucked some mornings when she arrives in the office. Chilled. Down to earth. Somewhat naughty, in a very dry way. Efficient. Amazingly good at everything she does. Doesn’t take my shit. Is good for me. And quite possibly my best friend in the corporate world. She is married to Rocco, who comes across as a muscle bound bogun, but is actually a whizz-kid advertising exc who came up with many well known advertising campaigns. I was in my office when she arrived at her desk, with the many bags she always seems to carry. Long leather coat, high heel boots, tights, short skirt, blouse, long silky hair, still her, statuesque slim self. “Here I am,” were the first words out her mouth. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am to see you,” I said. “The band is back together.” “Your funny,” said Kaye. “I’ll just go to the ladies and poof my hair,” she ran her ...

I’ve got a dog, a bulldog in the tradition of the Grant bulldogs, his name is Buster, but you guys all know that. Ben and I don’t live together, but Ben does live just around the corner, he bought a new house in Carlton recently, with the prices being down, and all. So, our houses are only streets apart. We’ve been to family weddings as a couple. Most people are surprised with Ben, but not me it would seem. They were all surprised when we joined in the games of cricket, on Sunday afternoons at their family lunches. “You guys are… um… pretty blokey,” remarked cousin Dominic. Dominic always comments, he seems to be endlessly fascinated. “You know, for…” “Not really,” I said. “Gay guys are mostly pretty blokey. “Don’t believe the stereotypes,” said Ben. Of course, I couldn’t hit the ball to save myself when it came my turn to bat and I was bowled out on the first ball. I’m not a bad fielder, though, I can run, and I can catch, well, some of the time, easy catches. “Not so good at cricket,...