The sex was fairly ordinary, but the drug got me through it. He came back…fuck knows why because he didn’t seem to enjoy being fucked up the arse unless we were both off our faces… He seemed intelligent …but hey, who am I to judge. I seemed fairly ‘bright’ till I started shooting this shit up my system. He kept leaving my TXT messages on his phone: his girlfriend kept reading them…… ‘wow’ even I ain’t that stupid to leave my phone or my messages about. She phoned me a couple of times…apparently it was my fault that he kept dropping round for a root: but he kept coming, we kept shooting up till she threw him out. He then started bumming couches off friends, till the friends pissed him off.

On the 27th of this month he is supposed to be sentenced for trafficking. It looks like about a 10 year headline sentence reduced to 6 year. He keeps dropping in, when he is hungry or needs a fuck, and I am trying to be a friend to him. He drives a car that he has ‘borrowed’ from a friend, each time he leaves here he changes the number plates over…. we are just going to shoot up on time more (my plan; he doesn’t know this yet) before I think I can’t afford to sustain the relationship anymore (emotionally) I love the out of control fucking….but hate the out of control emotions as a result of the ice, the sex ain’t that good and my art work is coming back to me so I can’t afford to continue on this track in my life.

Tonight we fucked, he shared a meal with us…..He has just left my house. I watched him change the number plates on the car. He said there was some really good shit about. I didn’t respond, but 20 minutes later I received a TXT message..it said
I could get you some tomorrow if you like.
Talk tomorrow! and thank you again for your generosity.
U

This has decided me…. one more time then I have to clean my act up and get back into work. I am hoping that having got back to my blog will underline my resolve.

First thing I took off to collect the papers and dropped by two local beats (bogs) where I photographed some crudely drawn porn grafitti for a wood incised piece of sculpture I am working on. Walk into a public toilet with a camera and you are bound to get looks. I was interrupted in the second one and I though uh oh things are looking up…. I mean who else is out and about public bogs at 6.30am unless it is a tradie looking for a bit of relief on the way to work. Unfortunately no…it was the contract cleaner and he wasn’t looking for a root. Luckily I had already taken my pics as he was there with a paint pot to do his weekly paint out of porn. We commiserated about the footy… I didn’t mention my plan to line the team up outside my bedroom door. There is just so much bonhommie one can summon in a public toilet before 7am I headed home.

Thankyou Tammie in Darwin…….. my porn arrived.

A little later I had a wine delivery so I had to tuck in to see that it hadn’t been corked. MBH (my better half ) said ‘it’s screw top‘….. so???? Somewhere in the process of previewing one of the DVDs and finishing a glass of vino blanco, I tripped over a pile of clothing (oh yeah… so where did that come from) but you will be pleased to know not one drop of poppers were spilt…. but I did sustain a whack to the head on a passing column, a minor injury and as being a believer in ‘erbs I cut a tentacle off an aloe vera plant, skinned it, and smeared it on my forehead…. Later when I went out to collect a box of decking screws I kept wondering why everyone was staring at me just above the eyes, or worse looking as if they were going to flee. When I arrived home I found that the sun had set the aloe vera a fluorescent yellow, so I look like I had been crapped on by a low flying Mardi Gras; and a big one at that.

As the day progressed I desparately needed the comfort of a stranger, I had several hits from 2 gay chatrooms, but they involved more than I was willingly to give to the undertaking… shit guys are fickle. Particularly me if it involves running a taxi service to collect and return a guy…..and before you get off the starting blocks he is telling you what he will or won’t do…. I’m thinking ‘it’s a root not a marriage proposal’, ‘Hey‘ I said to one guy who required collecting… ‘Drive 25kms to pick you up?, I don’t even get out of bed for a root’. It reminds me of the time I used to do the taxi service running the kids to their various sports events on saturdays…..hated it and they were the fruit of my loins.

I faffed around on the computer down loaded the pics I had taken: a couple of naive cock/arse drawings, several pithy requests and a couple of mobile phone numbers.
I am amazed by guys who leave their mobile numbers , slightly dangerous, you think? . But I have to admit I was once given a mobile phone that had been inundated with straight washing detergent. I took the SIM card out and wrote the number up at a couple of places I visited. I got a few calls, I was always apprehensive turning up to a meet but I guess that extra frisson of fear added to the action…. but it got to the stage where it was just too nerve wracking trying to figure whether this was a guy who was up for it or out to give me a kicking. so I gave it up.

Now it is evening, and I am sitting here with a wine in one hand, typing with the left. Had a guy hit me up… he is a visitor to the coast, he is into everything, we agree and yes he has a car…. and then he says…’can you arrange a 3some?‘
Can you get fucked I think.
“No mate, try to get yourself a root down your end of the coast’ , I say, ‘Get back to me when you got yourself sorted’

He has come back up on the screen of my computer while I have been typing this blog….In a private chat box he says: hi, u still interested? Of course I am still interested , I just can’t be fucked.

I don’t think I will answer him….. I think I will just go to bed.

circa 1990
“I could go out the beach with you’
” Dad, I don’t think so.”
“I wouldn’t get in the way. . . . “
‘Yes you would. . . . I go there for sex, what are you going to do…watch?”
“Why do you do it?. . . can’t you find some-one ‘normally’?
“Normally?. . .this is normal for me, how can I explain it. . . . it’s like you and fishing, only I go hoping to catch some-one, and the thrill of not knowing if I will. Who he will be, what he’ll want me to do. . . . . yes, just like fishing, and I love it”

The maroons got flogged…… jeez, didn’t see that coming.
maybe I’ll get back to that bloke……………………………………………….

Because I live in mortal fear of being glommed I rang PCA (the porn people) just to find where my DVDs had got to. I spoke to a really nice woman, Tammie, who put me on hold, while in the background I could hear another woman extolling the virtues of her cunt which over the next couple of minutes went, apparently, from water tight to moist, before Tammie returned and said ‘sorry about that’ and told me there had been a rush on one of the DVDs (Fuck me Blindfolded) that I had ordered, and new stock would be in tomorrow (collectors item apparently)……. jesus I will fall for any bullshit line, we ain’t speaking bespoke videos here. But just so she knew I was really horny I let her know that I would get AMEX to back out the charge if it hadn’t arrived by Monday….. we then chatted about the weather in Darwin. I am reassured to know that phone sex isn’t as stimulating as Tammie’s friend was trying to make it, but I am envious of the Darwin hot weather.

I decided to hit the sauna before dinner time and that gave me time to ruminate over last evening. It went something like this…..
……by 7.30 I was climbing the walls with lust , there were bits of me hanging a right angle to my body , so I took a punt and offered myself to a guy who was on holidays staying in a high rise about 20kms away. This turned into bit of a problem as he responded with the following message u dnt hve a car car 2 nite do u Tongue (emoticon). This sobered me up enough to get my wheels out ( yeah I know) and take a drive to downtown Mooloolabah. Where I find I am about to hit the bed with not one but two guys. They are having a holiday away from the business that they jointly run. I have to be honest and say as I drove to the meet, I was more worried about some-one running a coin down the duco of my car, than meeting some potential sexual psychopath that I knew absolutely nothing about other that his cock was above average and he was uncut……he was and it wasn’t.

Now I am usually a little apprehensive about 3 somes, particularly when the other two are partners…. I often find there is a hidden agenda going, and they usually have their script already sorted, and you are left trying to find which role you are supposed to be playing. At home the approach I use is the ‘let yourself in by the side door in the garage’ …and let them find me and the 3rd for the night already engaged. That way they can see the lie of the land and join in if they feel like it. It is a completely structured ‘unstructured’ experience. Besides it appeals to a being caught being rooted fantasie of mine, and do those fantasies ratchet up the hardness index of my cock.
Back to last night……….
The guys are up from mid NSW and run a B&B there.. so I figure they must have some expertise, if only with a bacon & eggs fry up for afters.

The bottom line is I got rooted, and rooted the taller guy, who invited me for a return bout ata non specific time…. his mate didn’t and for some bizarre reason asked me why I lied about my height in my ‘profile’ …I said i didn’t, he said I did, I said I didn’t….well you get the picture. I hit Burger King on the way home (feed the man meat) and while I was picking the beetroot out of my Aussie Burger I am thinking what the hell was that all about? Part of gay life’s rich tapestry?. Fuck it I had got rid of the bodily fluid build up that I had been holding onto for the porn video occasion… and the burger wasn’t half bad…. and if he can give his mate the slip I would go back for seconds.
Here is an interesting point to ponder …. the taller one called himself Brad…. his life long partner at some stage called him Bruce… WOW I think that relationship has got problems: at least I can remember my partners name.

Tonight all bets are off as I will be watching ‘state of origin’ which I am assured is the nude version…. well the audience round my plasma will be….drool!

I hopped back under the covers about 5.30 am started playing with myself and immediately fell asleep. Is this critique??? even I, piss myself off. By the time I woke up and usually take myself in hand the house was buzzing so I felt I didn’t want to draw any attention to ‘me’.

Whilst I was out to collect the papers I checked my local beat to see if anyone was looking for a meet-up….no. I came home had breakfast, read the papers had two chats on a gay chat line, with guys who were really up for it, but over 1000kms away and hung loose till the Mail delivery woman arrived, hoping either my new porn DVDs or imported underwear would arrive. Mrs mailman shot straight past the letter box, and I imagined a fantasy of her in the front of here 4WD struggling into my new jockstrap and watching ‘Sperm Bank’.

Later in the morning a semi regular who can’t visit because he has flu, well that is what he says, messaged me and we chatted. He asked if I wanted to watch him pull himself off on cam, but I can’t get cam on MSN, so by the time he had download Yahoo and we got the connection working I had passed my peak…. but the man can surely drop a load.

I am being harrassed by a guy who I once met up with for some ‘bush’ sex. He discribed himself as stocky with a wicked sense of humour and an above average size cock…. he turned out to be a fat, sarcastic bastard with a small dick, who proceeded to bitch about whether there were any snakes about, about how New Zealand was a much more friendly place ( so piss back off there you waste of space) and his being bitten by mosquitos…. I came very close to biting his dick off. But I did suggest he could drop round the house sometime if he wanted to (rule number one). He never did and now 2 months later he is hitting me up again… I can’t figure whether he is just fucking stupid and doesn’t remember our last meet, or he thinks I am just stupid and don’t remember our last meet.

When he came online I chatted for oh six words then told him I had some tiling to do……… Being essentially honest I felt obliged to go do the tiling

THE TILING
The much vaunted plunge pool progresses. I mixed the tiling adhesive, I was halfway into the disposable paper overalls, when the neighbors burglar alarm went off and I am the only trusted person at this point of the street to be allowed to sort this problem…. my god if you saw the contents of the other neighbors garbage bins you wouldn’t sleep at night …..all home brand product and empty cheap cask wine. Well the casks are always empty, don’t ask me how I know: it’s a skill.

So I belt up there only to notice there are patches of pubic hair showing through the overalls. WARNING…. never go down sun wearing disposable overalls with nothing underneath. If there was a burglar he was going to take flight at the sight of me all shimmery in the sun, or I was going to get out of the tiling. So the situation is, tile adhesive setting off in bucket , me in flagranto… belting up the street, only to find it is the owners cats. They have had some tiff and been waving semaphore battons at the motion detectors… I sort them out, check that the wine cellar is intact, I discovered one or two bottles of bubbly had been drunk by the felines, and come home to a bucket of quickly setting adhesive; because as you would imagine when you are almost totally in garment divestiture mode, you meet everyone on the street.
I wondered about my transparency, everyone kept me talking so fuck-nose what that means. Social ridicule I should imagine.

I cooked dinner and ‘wined’ down wondering if tonight will bring any joy. During the day I got a very weird comment from some-one about this blog… gotta say one needs to always watch their back.

I am still wheeless so I am depending on a home delivery, so i am pushing the chat room tonight. I’m moving back to virgin status.

I always read my stars in the morning paper, because it gives me a reality check on what a weird place in the animal heirachy the human species inhabits and more particulary in the part of the country where I live… this has to be the counter-cultural wankers heaven. It is all on offer within a short car trip: a place where all your problems can be solved if only you choose the right nostrum. crystals, astrology, colonic irrigation, taro, palm reading, auras….etc. So it is always reassuring to see the priorities got right…. Burma cyclone, China earthquake …. cosmetic surgery, stars and then sport stars. If you start at the back of the paper you can don’t even have to read, it is all sport star pictures. The only reason one would have to pay money for this excuse for a newspaper is the none too subtle homoerotic bent of their sports photographer…… then on to my stars & they are saying ‘Mercury is going retrograde this week‘ Um what the fuck does that mean? but it surely sounds scientific, my lucky colour is fawn and my lovelife is in for a surprise encounter (fingers crossed). At that stage you can dice the paper and not give a stuff for the Burmese or Chinese….. and aint it the truth. I notice BMW sales are at a record high.

Now that is over lets get back to sex. Since I last blogged; any sex I have had has been self serve. I am intrigued by the psychology of casual sex. A large percentage of sexual contact I have is with married men, so weekends tend to be fairly slim pickings, unless they can convince the wife that they are just popping down to the municipal tip to dump some rubbish. I gotta tell you the smell of a rubbish sweaty man doesn’t really do it for me…. while the normal man smells are OK the lingering fragrance of burning tyres, rotting food scraps, and germ infested dust is not a place I want to go. I can honestly say if this was turn on territory I would be down the tip hawking my plumbing amongst the trash, treasure and vermin.

Single guys you would imagine, given a sunny day would be hot to trot… but no. There definitely seems to be a correlation between crap weather and roadside sex. Yesterday, yesterday the weather was crap so that was looking positive, except I didn’t have the car.. I had ‘contact’ with three men that went something like this.

Number one (married) wanted me to drive to his house, I felt lucky that I didn’t have the car, because usually I don’t have an excuse*, because even tho this guy has a cock to really swing on, doing it in the matrimonial bed while the wife is out at one of her charity commitments is a bit spooky to me…. as is ‘doing it’ being overlooked by the family, albeit in photographic form….so that was a no go.
*golden rule: never reject a root you never know when you are gonna be hard up

Number two was a semi regular who invited me too his place for morning tea to watch him build his bath house …. anytime he and I get together for a social/work occassion we end up in bed…. It is hot except he is into pain a little, and this is a semi no go area for me. Digression: My old man used to beat the crap out of me when I was young so I can’t relate to the pain=pleasure crowd. BUT we manage to muddle through my hang-ups on this one. I would have accepted the offer except I had no car, and he lives in the middle of the forest. It would be great place to work out Deliverance type scenarios…. Now there is something I have to work on.

Number three contact was some amazingly well hung lad (mid 20s at a guess) from Mumbai, who came in on my Yahoo chat line, offered me the option to watch him on cam… and then proceeded to wank himself off on camera in what appeared to be a kitchen: in the background I could see what looked like a sink and a stove. After he had cum he asked if I could cam to him. This I found a little disturbing as during his performance I noticed a mature female pass behind him and fill a pot with water. When I asked him who it had been, he said it was his mother…. wow and I think I am sophisticated. So I declined the offer to return the favour, just in case mum was sitting in the kitchen downing her cup of Lapsang Souchong while I was broadcasting my hard-on into the sub-continent. He took it in his stride, and told me he would like to ‘give me the real thing’ when he visited his friend in Melbourne… so I think I am fairly safe.

I was thinking how sexually exciting did I find the cam? oh this wasn’t a first experience, cam and me go back … um, weeks. I am intrigued to find that live video sex I don’t find as arousing as commercial porn ……. a theory I put to the test later in the evening. I am starting to collect a lot of empirical evidence on this phenomenon. Here comes my ‘nobel’ prize.

I will interpose a bit of personal history here whilst on the subject of hormones… Everyday I apply (liberally) a testosterone cream. I have a trained doctor who will give me what I want, that is legal. Now without testing my testosterone levels he wrote me a ‘script’. This isn’t entirely without thought on my part…. in the local rag I had read an article that suggested that testosterone cream was the latest idea for men who suffered from depression, the odd skin problem (yeah well I had a pimple last year) and something else, that I forget. OK maybe it was memory.. Now I am hornier than ever, would mount a bollard at the drop of a hankie BUT there is a DOWNSIDE and this how I know that god exists: primary hair falls away…I am going bald at a fair canter…. and secondary hair increases…. ( I have hair growing out my ears arse and armpits….. I need a weed whacker). We can chat about shaving fantasies some other time.

After arriving home and regretting my decision not to go to the market I sat at the computer to work. About mid morning I got the following message on a gay web site (alright GAYDAR…they need the advertising) [nice cock, i have to come to sc at the end of the month hadve you got room there for one. send phon no back and i will call nice cock by the way] TRANSLATION: sc is where I live and this guy is 1200kms away. And I am thinking this bastard is trying to flatter his way into free accomodation … so I flicked him off …………………and immediately regretted it (who knows how desparate I will be in 2 weeks time)
NOW this you have to imagine: there is a pic of my cock on the GAYDAR site (doesn’t everyone???).. and my profile is fairly full on.
Before I flicked him off I checked his profile and the most telling part about a man is what he has to say about himself…. cock (large and cut): tick! and so on. But amongst other things he describes himself as ‘goodlooking with a GOSH’. Wow and hey guys when did this become a self diagnosing attribute?…. I thought others decided whether one was good looking …. otherwise it is vanity…yeah?? GOSH, maybe his saying he was goodlooking indicated a sense of humour, except I have met up with many guys who describe themselves as having a ‘wicked sense of humour’ which usually means campy/bitchy/sarcastic.

What made the day worse, was that just across from my front verandah was a man operating an excavator: leveling a building site ….. Here in the tropical climes it is mandatory for workers to wear the minimalist clothing. He was stripped to the waist ,the odd rivulet of sweat running down his chest….. Oh yeah this didn’t do anything for me. I decided to get closer by stripping down and tiling the outside of my plunge pool, except the tiles kept sliding down and off the wall. You can imagine this wasn’t the image I wanted to convey, as he just kept digging holes in the ground. The bastard could have come over and offer to lay one for me.

Now it is just after dinner, so we know what that means ‘too pissed to drive and not get booked….and I don’t have a cop fantasy’ so I am sitting here hoping for some-one who does home delivery….. I’ll get back to you if I pull a root: god I hope so otherwise it is gonna be poppers and porn and old reliable. Then TV (television).

STATS
to draw you a picture…… I am Australian, average height and weight, been married but always fucked with men… so I have seen the front and back of many a man…not to mention women (but we aint gonna mention them again:ok)
Having been a adolescent of the late 1960s you have to imagine a time when it was acceptable to have sex with anything that moved…or didn’t…. I am still living that time.

I have a fuck buddy… or more correctly I had this fuck buddy up till 2 months ago when the best sex I have ever had just disintegrated in front of my eyes one evening.. maybe I will blog about this sometime, BUT this mate and I used to talk about how much time both of us spent trying to chase up sex. He was of the opinion that he spent way too much time, thinking, on web sites, chasing, obsessing, hanging round beats, doing….and he said but ‘hey you know what it is like you are the same‘. “Whoa! gross generalization”……. I thought. This became an ongoing topic pre, post and during rooting. We discussed whether all men were as fucked on fucking or were we just weird?. Well I didn’t think it weird, even tho’ when we first met he would turn up at my place at 4.00am after a 3.30am wake up ‘are you up for a root’ phonecall. We were doing dope+ everytime we got together so I didn’t think it that important, and the sex was good!!!!… why analyze it?…… a bit like killing the chook to see how it works …… we killed the chook.

I started a blog a couple of weeks ago, and quickly became aware that in an effort not to scare the horses or freak out the neighbors I soft peddeled on the way most important part of my life.. the time I spend with men for sex or looking for sex. Inspiration hit in the form of ‘let’s do an Adults Only version of my blog.

Now I have decided to follow it up and just see where I’m at. So this is about the more private me. AND you might ask why don’t you keep it to yourself, but I think it worthwhile to note the odd oddity down AND hey there maybe some of you out there that think… I got something to add to this wankers thoughts. Any of my life I imagine it is gonna include the odd drug or three legal and not so, drinking, sex acts that may not appeal to all, friends, enemies, my bizarre take on things and the odd bit of old personal history.

As I blog to you: blogee……This is my usual computer set up.
I have three gay dating web sites open in the background on my computer and one of them has a gay chat room open. In front of that I am usually trying to solve a problem of rendering of a sculptural piece I am trying to design… On week days in front of that I have my day trading account open for the ASX.
The gay pages open automatically when I wake up my computer as does my share trading platform.
Today that is my set up…. and as I work I am hoping some-one will hit me up for a root.

The next post will be a flash back to earlier this week… seat belt fastening…and put that fag out (this is a no smoking flight).

PS As an Australian I will be using the local vernacular so if you want a translation at anytime…just ask