Tuesday 22 February 2011

The Older Woman

“Don't say what, Julio, say pardon,” Bridget said.

I laughed. It seemed like the most preposterous thing to say.

Bridget and Julio both looked at me surprised. More startled.

I looked at Garth.

He looked back at the Bridget and Julio.

Garth took me by the arm and lead me out of the room.

"I realised that, although my mother is the most impossible woman in the world, Julio loves her. He really loves her."

I didn't say anything. I thought the thirty year age difference spoke for itself.

Garth didn’t say anything about that.

“How do you think…”

“Don’t even go there,” said Garth.

“But, do you think…”

“I said don’t go there,” said Garth.

“Don’t you…”

“No, I don’t, she is my mother.”

“You don’t?”

“No.”


Thursday 10 February 2011

We Were Just Two Lads Being Mates, Living Our Lives

I used to go watch Jason play footy for Glenroy. He looked hot in his shorts – nice bum, hairy legs, big bulge, muscular arms in his sleeveless jumper. He was just one of the lads as he hung with his mates… all slapping each other’s arses as they showered.

We all drank beer afterwards and the rest of them talked about girls, as I caught Jason's eye and he'd smile at me momentarily before he join in with the others.

He’d be all hey-ho macho and one of the boys, I used to love it. A tough northern kid.

Then he’d say quietly, Do you want to suck my cock? Then he’d blush. Straight boys (straightish) are hot when they blush.

Then I'd be sucking his big fat cock back in his room before his parents got home from where ever they were, most likely the market, or Jason's sisters place, wondering what his mates would have thought if they could have seen him spread legged.

He'd wipe his spoof off the lino on his bedroom floor with his jocks when we were done and say, "Come on, let's shower before the olds get back."

A couple of times his parents were home before we'd finished snogging in the shower. They never thought anything of it, it never crossed their minds. We were just two lads being mates, living our lives.


Monday 7 February 2011

Something Lost

It's funny thinking about Jason. He was fiery and passionate and beautiful. A wog boy to be sure. We kind of had a special bond, kids from different sides of the tracks make good friendship. Day time movie premises. I bet they wouldn't show the hot fucking, skin on skin; we couldn't get enough of each other's genitals. We were always pulling each other's pants off.

He seemed so alive and his extended family seemed like a circus going on around him.

The funny bit is that I have his parent's phone number. It wouldn't be so unrealistic that they haven't moved, they'd lived in that house for years.

They loved me. They thought I was funny. They were all so earthy, in away. They called me Jason's boyfriend, even though I don't think they suspected. We were both kids in their eyes. I was different to them, so I was just Jason's buddy. School friend, that's how he passed us off. They'd give me Jason's phone number, most likely. They'd certainly pass mine on to him, I think.

What would happen, do you think?

I live on my own.

What if he'd never found love?

What if he was married, but had lost the love?

What if he was married... boys cheat, they all do. He'd come over to my place and fuck and feel no guilt. Guys don't feel guilt about that stuff. If it involves their cocks, they don't care about anything else. It would be different, that's all.


Sunday 6 February 2011

Keilor Park Drive

I was driving down the Calder, sun shining, car purring and I saw a sign that said Keilor Park Drive. It was like something I didn't know. I had no information on that. It was somewhere I had never been and somewhere I would probably never go.

The closest I had was Jason from Glenroy. Not that that is really close at all. I laughed to myself, am I an inner suburb snob? I hadn't thought about Jason in ages.

I met him in the city, on one of those endless city visits that sixteen year olds seem to always do. He had that look in his eyes, hungry, I was attracted to it straight away. He seemed so straight boy and kind of tough, I wondered if it was some weird game he played, but he kept looking and then he followed me.

And when he said, nervously, "Do you know somewhere to go?" 

I felt nervous, but I knew I wasn't imagining it. It was suddenly real, not a game anymore.

He was hot and we did filthy things together in the CentrePoint bog. Upstairs, where guys used to line the walls, when they felt safe, they used to look over the doors. There would be people looking through every crack, sometimes they would speak. They'd scatter as soon as someone new came through the door, to every corner, looking away. then it would start again. Someone would move into position. The new guy would step forward to look over at the guys in the cubicle, who were back at it first, prove your "stripes," prove you were one of us.

It was the first time I went home with someone. It was a hell of a trip, to his place in the northern suburbs, when his parents were at work. It could have been one of the first times I had left the safe confines of my own suburb and my mother's bosom. In the holidays, it didn't matter how long it took.

Not long after I'd got my licence, I ventured out to his place, as one of the first things I did. As a horny eighteen year old, driving across town for a shag. It became apparent that there was a lot I didn't know, as I found my way through a multitude of suburbs that I never knew even existed. They seemed to be going for miles. I'd never seen these streets before. It was a foreign land.

I'd just left school.

It was the first time we did it in a bed, his bed. He was keen, not nervous at all.

It was funny to think that there was a whole group of people who I would never mix with, never meet. The other side of town, so to speak. People I would never know. Strangers in my own city, who lived around Keilor Park Drive.