Gone Sailing

Have fun you funky people......I ran out of time for a proper post and now I'm going sailing.

For anyone interested in following the race, go to the Rolex Sydney Hobart website for the live tracker.

Back in a few weeks to take on 2008!

Cya

Wet, Wet, Wet

So this is it kids, last day of work before the real hard yakka starts.

A smart person would have been banking sleep like it was gold but not me, I seem to have been burning both ends of the candle for a few months now and it is only going to get worse for a few weeks yet.

Come December 26th, I will be off on an adventure, sailing in the Sydney Hobart yacht race.

We are just starting to get a picture of what to expect weather wise but as with all weather related shenanigans and this race, you just never know until you are in it.

A good friend and I were laughing that it is one of those races where everyone wants the great downhill run in fine weather but if you finish a heavy weather race then everyone is just as happy to have the story that they got there.

Is it really dangerous? yeah it can be. Is it fun? well it depends on your perspective on life.

It is a challenge, if you like challenges, if you like pushing through, if you like having no other option than to finish the job or just lay down and die then yeah, it is fun.

People often wonder why would you put yourself in that position. I think some do it because they enjoy the competition, others love the open ocean and the isolation from our comfortable and hermetically sealed little lives, some do it because it is a badge of honour or way to get a shirt that buys a little extra cred at the local yacht club.

For me it is the competition and the isolation. Sailing is just great fun and coming on watch to see water and rolling waves in every direction, to know that there is no stop button and to know that the you and the other lumps of meat on this piece of plastic are truly insignificant puts your life in perspective.

It is a frivolous folly that proves nothing and risks everything. An ocean race can be a lifetime of joy, terror, beauty and reward crammed into a few days.

The sea could swallow you and it would not care. It makes up two thirds of our planet and yet it is as foreign as outer space. Anyone silly enough to think it is tamed is only one rogue wave away from being evicted from this life.

I am excited. I am grinning just thinking about it.

Before all that though I have another big dance party to get through then all the family crap over Christmas. I don't know why, and I hope I could change it if I had kids of my own but Christmas just gets on my nerves.

I love my family and am close with the them but the extended family just bore me. I am choosy about who I sit down to break bread with and these are people I would not choose if given the chance. Sure they are nice enough but...I dunno.

All those, "when are you going to find a nice girl", "must be time you produced a grand kid for your parents" comments are likely to result in spontaneous violence.

The consumer driven Christmas thing winds me up too. I like buying special gifts for a special or spontaneous moment but being told it is Christmas and you have to supply gifts NOW just gives me performance anxiety.

The end result is that I choose not to play that game which then results in guilt when sitting around a Christmas tree being given gifts and not having any to give back to people you don't care about. Fuckedy fuck'nfuck.

Every year it seems to be this crazy rush at work just so you can all have a break at the same time. Most of my customers don't have more than a day off at this time of year so seem to resent that we do. Fuckers.

I am trying to respond less to their pressure but it is a battle of epic proportions. A classic example;

Customer: We want product X by Y in colour Z.
Me: Sure thing, you will have to order that yesterday and pay a penalty to jump the que.
Customer: Not a problem, transferring a 5 figure sum now.
Me: Thanks for the order, just confirming in writing that it is model X in colour Z with a shipping date of T.
Customer: Yes that is all correct, thanks so much for pushing this through...

Two weeks into production.....

Customer: Ah, we have a small problem.
Me: haha, no you have a small problem but please tell me about it.
Customer: It seems that between the media buyer and advertising agency there was bit of a mix up with the client. The client does not want colour Z, it has to be a mix of A & B.
Me: That is a bugger, we just finished cutting it out.
Customer: how much is that going to cost them?
Me: At least your five figure deposit...
Customer: I'll call you back.
Me: make it quick, the shipping date of Y was dependent on the job starting two weeks back...
Customer: yeah but you can't let us down ok...

24 hours later and still no call. At 1:30 today I stop answering the phone. Idiots. I know what is waiting for me in January and that rogue wave is looking like a great friend and an elegant escape.

I will squeeze in one more post before I say good bye to 2007 so see you then.

Sexy guest post.

Ok folks, make sure you're home alone for this one. I have another anonymous guest post for you. This saucy email came my way from a lady with a thing for the scent of a man.

I can only hope that the author intends on making contact again to organise a painting lesson for me. Enjoy!

He was feeling naughty after I licked the back of his knees, so I decided to tie him, naked and spread-eagled, to the bedposts with scarves. I knelt above him and we kissed passionately. I took off my panties and he strained to touch me, but his hands were tied and I would not let him.

There was a firm paintbrush that came with the chocolate body paint. I lay down in front of him, and spread my legs. He could see that my pussy was already soaking wet from when I was licking his armpits. It was glistening. I spread my moistness around my swollen clitoris and began to rub myself with two fingers lewdly in front of him. His cock stood to attention as I gasped with my own arousal.

Then I got the paintbrush and began stroking myself with the firm, yet soft bristles. I ran the brush with long strokes starting from near my arse all the way to my clitoris. I was unbelievably horny and the amount of slippery moisture in my pussy was unbelievable. With each stroke the brush gathered more juice from my pussy. Then I used shorter and harder strokes over the centre of my arousal over and over again. It felt like a firm but insistent tongue lapping at my clitoris.

He was licking his lips. I took the brush, loaded with the sweet juice from my cunt, and painted his lips. He licked his lips again and when he tasted my juice his cock swelled even more. Gathering more juice from my pussy I began to paint his cock. First of all I used long strokes from the base of his cock to the pink tip. Then I stroked the brush around the head of his cock. He strained at his tethers but I would not release him. Finally I concentrated the harder brush strokes under the tip of his cock, right where he likes it.

I replaced the brush with my tongue, licking around the head of his cock firmly. I could taste juice from his arousal and I needed more. Taking his cock into my mouth I made a firm seal with my lips and gently sucked. Then I moved my lips up and down his shaft while making rhythmic strokes with my hands. He was bucking wildly and groaning and I increased the pace. I kept up the rhythm incessantly and he was nearly climaxing. My own groans of arousal tipped him over the edge and he blew his load deep into my mouth. He tasted amazing and I swallowed deeply, loving the taste of this sexy man.

After I untied him we lay resting on the bed for 15 minutes in each other's arms. After that we got hungry and raided the fridge for some chocolate cake which we smothered in whipped cream from the can and the chocolate sauce.

What floats your boat?

I am always amazed and intrigued by the world we live in and the people that fill it.

I am not going to go into too much detail as to how I found this, except to say it was the typical happy trail of blog to comment to blog to comment to oh my gawd!!!!

For those with a short attention span, the kinks (my typo...) are at the end of this post.

A while back I had some laughs about my testing of the disembodied Gina. Since then I have had some of the real thing and there is no comparison. Gina just does not rate when it comes to witty conversation and being a theatre buddy.

Well it seems that for some folks, a toy is not enough. They are after something a little more permanent in their lives but with none of the feeding or interaction issues you get with a living, breathing human. For these people there are life like, full size sex dolls out there.

I should not be surprised, hell what ever floats your boat right? Masturbation at it's highest level is how I think someone in the film describes it. Freaky verging on necrophilia would have been a much more succinct summary in my book.

The phrase "Only in America" came to mind right up until I heard that Australia is listed as one of the major shipping destinations for this product. Who would have thought that with all this sun, sand and sexy booty, that Australian men would need to resort to a doll? Oh well, the more nutters locked up with their inanimate friends, the more real girls for me and the boys...

Being a practical person some questions soon came to mind. The scary part was the order the questions popped into my head....The engineer in me was asking all sorts of "how" questions before the soft, human side of my brain got over the stroke like paralysis and started screaming for deeper answers about the "why".

So I have to ask, where the hell do you hide a body in your house? Murderers have been dealing with this problem by cutting them up, burying them etc. for years. Obviously if you buy one of these things that is not an option - unless that is your thing but you don't like blood.. but I digress. These things have got to be harder to hide from guests to your home than the dodgy gut busting, thigh master thingy you bought from danoz direct during that last bout of 3am channel surfing.

Maybe the answer is quite simple. If you need the doll, you don't need to hide it.

Then there is the dead root aspect. Now I have never had patience for a lady that is not getting into it during the funky stuff. I would sooner go shopping for souvenir tea towels than bang away with a non responsive chick. This would have to be worse. Sure they have erect nipples, but just because a lady is cold, does not mean you've turned her on.

Some may argue that the doll is there when and where you want it but stopping to manipulate a mannequin into a new position is not ever going to be the same as having a lover suggest something they would like. The silence would be a bummer too, after all what is sex with out giggles, screaming (stifled or window shattering) and the odd fanny fart?

Finally, after all the fucking, sucking, tweaking and fingering you can self initiate, what is sex without both the taste of a real partner and a kiss? Hollow is the word that comes to mind. Kissing is the difference between a wank and making love.

I am not even going to touch the cleaning aspect.

So, if you ever wondered who buys these things, head on over to google video and prepare to be gob smacked for about 45 minutes. If you want to keep your job, this is probably not advised as a work safe bit of viewing.

Alternately, just go to the Real Doll website and order one for Christmas. If you really want some entertaining reading, check out the letters section on their website.

Get your freak on

Anti-social freak
A mate was telling me about how he and his wife play scrabble on the Internet via fartbook. He may be in his office and she might be down stairs watching TV or making dinner. They will call to each other to hurry up or that it is their move. Sometimes they will take turns from the same laptop and will log out, pass the laptop over to the other person, login and play a move, log out....Please Shoot me if I ever do that.

Seriously, I am going to buy them the real thing for Christmas even if I have to steal it from Steph's hands!

Dance Freak
I had the pleasure of a three hour workshop with one of the worlds best west coast swing couples and they were fucking amazing. The guy was smooth as silk and the girl was like Britney when she was young and hot. It was some of the coolest dancing I have seen up close and has given me a target. I will be that good one day...

Along the same lines, I also had my first man dance that night. Sounds a little gehy I know but it was really cool and the ladies seem to really dig a couple of metro-sexual guys swinging each other around the dance floor. I got to play the boy because to be frank, I make a super fugly girl and I have no idea how to follow a lead. I am keen to learn though because it will help improve my dancing.

Still on the whole dancing thing, I also got asked by one of the teachers if I was interested in helping out with some classes as a demo dolly. This is cool for a few reasons,

1) I get to be on stage and show off my groove thang with a hot teacher. Not that I am a fame whore but I am a fame whore and it will be fun!

2) I am a late bloomer when it comes to dancing so it is recognition that I am actually getting to a good standard. I also love to teach stuff so it is a step in that direction where I can see myself going if I ever get good enough.

3) Can we all scream "free dance classes as staff!" Woooo F'n Hooo! This should probably be at number 1 because it will save me a small fortune but I am a fame whore and finding money is easier to achieve..

Adventure freak
More adventures are also afoot. At the risk of narrowing the field for you stalkers out there. I am doing that big yacht race that starts on boxing day in the town with a coat hanger and with some luck will end in a drunken mess on the shores of Hobart town.


As such I am in the middle of bits of running around in preparation as well as our final days of race training over the coming weekend.

Some smart arse once said that to train for a yacht race you just stand in a cold shower and poke $100 notes down the drain. I have to agree but because we have a few sponsors, it is mostly someone else's cash we are burning. Yipee!

I am getting really excited because this is it for ocean racing, many sailors dream of doing this race and never get the chance. 628 Nautical miles of generally bad weather, broken boats and hard racing. It is known as one of the toughest races in the world because of the high winds and steep swells in Bass Strait and the Tasman that pound the yachts on the trip south.

Blog freak
A fellow blogger, Phish, has been interrupted by some stalker so she is going private with her blog. Don't forget to send her an email to get the keys to her chastity belt...er blog. She is always good for a laugh, a cry and a spank of the monkey when she is writing smut.

Another blog thing - the ever sexy Steph and her Supertards awarded me 2nd place for saying something clever about a mate of hers in a banana suit. Here I was taking the piss about her beloved KRudd and I get a podium finish.

Kyoto freak
KRudd is off and running. Our new Pm has done the one thing the Australian public has been cringing about for years. He signed the Kyoto Protocol, leaving the USA as the only major first world country with it's head up it's bum about the reality of climate change.

Don't get me wrong, I am not in love with this guy and his party. I still suspect that for all the social change and love that people are dancing about, those same people will be crying when the wheels fall of out economy. He strikes me as a dangerous little git that i just don't trust.

The good news is that I am not so one eyed when it comes to politics to actually care what badge you are wearing. If I am proven wrong and the new guy does a good job then I will be more than happy with the result. Schools for our kids, hospitals for the sickos, our troops at home and out of harms way, economic and environmental responsibility. That is all I ask.

Your freak
So what are you folks up to in the festive season? Anyone got a cool holiday planned? Going somewhere exotic? Sitting at home playing scrabble on the net rather than talking to the person next to you? Let me know your plans so I can come and crash your party!

Reader beware...

I have been outed folks so it is time for that post...That person has been very cool but this post is for others that may follow and to spell out my own thoughts on the subject.

Blogs are interesting things, if you are reading this then you probably already have that figured out or have been pointed here by someone who stopped reading before the end of this post.

Some bloggers are just out there, you know who they are, what they, their family, their boobs and even vayjayja or pee pee looks like. Others are a little more secretive and only show their boobs, vayjayja or pee pee.

We all talk crap to anyone who will listen and often we are writing for ourself and it does not matter if nobody reads it. It is an outlet for creative and emotional guff that like a bottle floating in the ocean, grows a little island of life around it.

There seems to be two groups of bloggers out there. Those who have offended a friend or family member with a post and those that are going to.

I have often wondered what the reaction would be to some of my posts. They are drawn from real life, the names are changed to protect the guilty and in the telling, the volume is turned up to 11 to set a scene or highlight the best or worst of the action. When I write a post, I turn off the mouth/brain filter. I let the raw thoughts cascade through me and then massage them into a hopefully coherent missive on x, y or z.

The downside to that is that when you are outed, people will attach meaning and pain or joy to the words. The challenge then is how will they deal with it and how do you deal with it?

I have made the decision that for me this is like a diary. I scribble down ideas, moments in time, thoughts and feelings. It is a diary that is left open in a public place and I don't care who reads it but there is one caveat that applies to any diary.

Read it at your own risk and in this case, read it as a work of fiction.

Attaching the real names and places to the stories is dangerous in the way it is dangerous to read a private diary or the private emails of a lover. You will find out stuff you did not need to know, stuff that in knowing will change things at a personal level. Some of it will be for good, some of it will be for the worse.

If you think you know me and choose to read these words with my name attached then you have to do it knowing you may not like what I say, who I do, or just how dark the my inner monkey can be.

As for why I would allow that to happen, well I blame that on you kind folk out there. Your blogs are too funny, inspiring and good to read that I can't help sharing the love with my friends.

Having dropped the name of Miss Smack, Capitan Smack, Kitty, Fingers and Steph to a few friends it was only a matter of time before someone found me in your comments and recognized me.

I am cool with that. If I was not, it would be an invitation only blog or written in a password secured document offline.

Will I change what I write? No. You the reader have the option to turn away, choose not to read. If you think you know who I am, then you have the option to not open the diary on the dresser.

If you do read it then you must respect that here is an anonymous and fictional tale written by someone while naked and uncaring. Enjoy the stories for what they are and take the ride in the same way you would a novel or a movie - draw all the parallels you want with people you know or things in your life but do not hold those people accountable for what happened in the tale as it was told.

If you think you know me do not go running to others with news of the open diary because they to will read it out of context. Keep it as a secret for yourself. I don't need to know that you think you know my dirty secrets or that you think that you have found me.

It is not my reason for doing this. Enjoy it or leave. I don't care, I am happy. Welcome or farewell....

Budmo!

Time for me to fess up. I am not a big drinker. I like to be in control.

A few nights ago I was not in control and shit happened. Lots of naughty but cool shit. I think I need to drink more often.

A few posts back I mentioned a drinking and dancing session with some Polish and Ukrainian people. It was good fun, it was mostly under control and I came to learn that a girl there I liked the look of was actually married to a guy I did not like the look of.

Such is life.

The problem was that there seemed to be a little spark. There were times when we seemed to lock eyes across a room for just a little too long and yet when we spoke, the conversation was just a little too awkward for no good reason.

I thought I was imagining all this. Hell, she is married - to a grumpy, unhappy looking person, but married all the same. I was thinking I had been single a little too long and was starting to read more into situations than was warranted.

So here I am again a few weeks later at another event and there they are. The same couple. The same grumpy dude and the same vibrant, attractive Ukrainian girl. After a few days It was getting obvious. We just both always seemed to know where in a room the other was.

Fast forward to yet another end of event party with large amounts of alcohol to be consumed. Beer, sake and shots of mysterious liqueurs from all corners of the globe mixed with huge amounts of bullshit being talked. Then there she was. Alone.

She slid through the room like a shark and dropped down onto an already crowed couch beside me, almost ejecting another person from the other end. As we made small talk in the crowded room she lent in closer, the eye contact was intense.

Her husband was sleeping, "He does not party, as you know. I hoped you would be here." she said.

Time slid by, the room slowly spun under the influence of the mixed poisons. There were too many bodies crammed into a hotel room made for two so we escaped into the hall way. It was not much better. There were people everywhere but we had a little more room to talk without too many ears.

"I feel like you understand me, I could talk in Russian and you would know what I mean."

She was gently squeezing my pinkie finger. It was an intimate touch and loaded with intent despite the subtlety.

"You are married, this is going in a really bad direction isn't it?"

"I am not happy, that is bad, if not worse?"

Fuck it I thought. I have had a conscious for too long. People make choices and I can't be held responsible for what I know or don't know. She is stunning, her eyes are like deep and mysterious pools of dark water and in that moment I make my choice.

"Is it the drink or is this more?" she asked.

"The drink plays a part but we have been arching like a short circuit for weeks." I said.

"Yes, I felt it also. I smile when I see you. Lets walk, no?"

We made our exit to the stairwell. It was well into the morning and the party was thinning. As we walked down the stairs her hand reached out for me. I squeezed her hand softly and it bought her to a stop. I took one more step down so we were eye to eye.

There was no hesitation, we leaned in together and kissed deeply. Our hands pulled our bodies together and we embraced tightly before she gently pushed me back.

Looking back up the stairwell, her eyes were wide with excitement, her cheeks were flushed and breathing was short.

"What am I doing? How do you do this to me? What if we are found? Kiss me again."

So I did and it was great. It was forbidden fruit and for one moment only. There was no sex but it was every bit as intense and the connection as strong.

It was the answer to the question of what if the time and place were different, would it be as good as it looked from afar? The answer was a resounding yes it just might be.

Will we ever meet again? maybe in a year or so. Who knows. All I know is that I have a warm memory of her eyes and the feeling of her lips on mine that will stay with me for a long time. I feel alive and I have no regrets.

Cops are tops.

I live on a busy road. On any given day there is a metric tonne of traffic flowing past and while I sure would not want to have small kids zipping around here on bikes, I can live with the nose.

What I am struggling with are the pricks that chuck rubbish out of their cars as they drive along. Nearly every day when collecting the mail I will pick up various drink bottles, fucking MacDonalds wrappers and other assorted rubbish deposited on the verge.

Yesterday I was mowing said verge and picking up yet more crap before it got pulped in the mower. As I stood there with another handful of bottles a passenger in a car driving past tried to collect me with his donation of a MacDonalds drink cup. He missed me but put the container square in the middle of the grass with a cheer and a wave of his hand.

My first reaction was to throw something at the fucker but he was doing about 60km/h and it was all a bit futile. Then I laughed. Indeed I laughed so hard I nearly pissed myself.

A few cars behind him was a copper. As they accelerated past me the lights came on and the female officer in the passenger seat gave me a big grin and a thumbs up. The road has bit of a bend in it and I did not get to see them tag him but I went back to my mowing knowing that there was good chance his day was not going to be as good as mine.

About 40 minutes later the cops pulled up in the drive way for a chat.

They wanted to know if I wanted to take it any further, file a complaint or something because the litter was thrown towards me and at some speed. I asked them how far it had gone already.

The female officer (Cute one too!) giggled and got a dirty look from the obviously more superior and straight bloke.

It turned out that the driver was driving while disqualified. Thanks to his passenger he got a free ride to the police station and now had a court date as well as a fine for littering to deal with. I figured that was funny enough to leave it at that.

It made my day.

Go the toe.

There is nothing sexier than a pair of pants with something to say.

I am not sure if it was an early exposure to a Jane Fonda aerobics video or just growing up in the 80's where lycra and leg warmers were the go but I have been warped into an appreciation of the mumble pants and that much maligned camel toe.

For years, guys who were growers rather than showers have been resorting to the old sock in the jocks. Even most girls seem to have tried the chicken fillets to increase the boobage at some point but advertising the clam has until now been purely the pleasure of fashion victims and dependant on the ability of their snatch to gobble the cloth.

Until now.

I found this little ad that should bring a blush to any camel toe loving guy or gal.

I think I will apply to be a distributor. What do you think? Will it sell?


I think it is time to head on down to Jacksons on George to get myself a Cougar with a Cougar.

Cultural observations

I consider myself a pretty lucky guy.

I get to travel a fair bit and while it is technically work, it is really play on a grand scale.

As I type this I am sitting in a funy little internet cafe booth in Japan. The booth is about 9 feet long by 3 feet wide and has the generic Dell computer, a TV and a funny little chair that has no legs. I am sitting on the floor in my socks as is the custom.

I love Japan. It is a crazy place full of contradicion. History battling with technology, youth fighting against tradition.

While I don't speak Japanese, like many others it is a language under seige to the advance of English. Every time I come here it becomes more apparent. Even cha has beome tea. One word at a time they are loosing one of the things that makes them so different. It makes me sad but they do not see it. They are too close.

Tonight I am drunk blogging. The event I have been at is over and number of us have hit a club to have a boogie, have some Japanese water and laugh about the week passed. I am currently trying to sober up a little before going home to pack for the flight back to OZ in the morning.

The thought about language came up because the people I was hanging out with were Japanese, Polish, Hungarian and Ukranian. English was the common language between us other than pointing, waving and laughing. I wish I had a tallent for languages...

Even english is a problem right now so I think I will leave it at that. Too much sake has made my fingers and brain numb.

I'm leaving, on a jet plane...

Yep, I am packing my bags and flying away. I will attempt to post while away but things may be a bit sparse over the coming weeks.

With some luck I will come back with fantastic tales of sex in exotic places or with exotic people. At the very least I hope to be able to tell you about having sex with exotic parts of people...

In the mean time, I have been tagged by Phish to do one of these things that some spawn of the devil comes up when bored. Now that is not a dig at you Phish, I am actually flattered that you might want to know these things about me but the whole meme thing just irritates me for some reason.

So, here we have "5 things that I do, did or like that I’m proud of, but that others may think are totally lame. "

1. I procrastinate. Now I am actually proud of this because I am the master of it. Other, more focused and organised people think it is a lame skill, but they just don't understand the effort required to waste time avoiding stuff you need to do.

2. I am an insomniac. I regularly go for weeks at a time on three hours or less per night. A bit like Phish mentioned though, when the chance comes up, I can sleep for 18 hours straight. I realise this will no doubt shorten my life if not rectified but hey, the number of waking hours will probably total the same, just in fewer years right?

3. I am obsessive about stuff I enjoy doing. There are no half measures with me. If I find something I like doing, I will go at it full speed ahead to the exclusion of all other things until I perfect it or achieve a skill level that I am happy with. I will then keep doing it or compete in it to the highest level I can until I break something / run out of money or find a new favourite thing to do.

4. I am a geek. As I type this I have three computers surrounding me, all on and all doing something different. I love high powered and well written software and the possibilities it presents to procrastinate.

5. I am a big softy who will walk away from a potential shag to avoid hurting or taking advantage of someone. I have probably missed out on a tonne of good bootie because of it but I don't really mind.

I am revoking my right to tag 5 people because I am feeling a little lazy and I figure that if people want to do these things they can always just do it.

I wish I could draw..

Ok, this is a little bit of a lame post but hey, this made me laugh.



Life is good. Hope yours is too!

A mystery man - loosing his virginity!

A covering note by Josh...

Wow, now this is interesting. My first post by a guest. I am not sure why I have been chosen for this honour but I will take it because I have been too pre-occupied to be creative.

So the background story is this. I got an email from a reader who had a story bursting to be told but too many real life visitors on his own blog and a kick arse case of shyness. So he will remain unnamed, and anything but shamed.

Because I am posting this on his behalf, I am going to close my opening with my comment; Dude! I wish I lost my virginity to you! And don't talk down your writing ability. It worked for me..

OK, well hi. This is in response to Betty Boob Hug's how I lost my virginity post.

Who am I - well lest see. I'm a boy. I blog, I'm 30 something. If you read here you've possibly encountered me on the interwebs but I didn't want to post under my nom de blog 'cause, well, my blogs not really anonymous and this is not the kind of stuff that you generally put out there for your mum to read. I'm not pretending to be anything like the writer Josh is. In fact I know I'm a crap stilted writer, especially as this is all true which sort of limits the creative aspect of the writing, so begging your forgives now, allow me to weave you a tail....

I had to wait till I was 13 and a half. It was in the bush one summer evening with a girl I knew had a crush on me from the neighbourhood. She and I had been mates for years and used to play doctors and nursers and pee in bottles and all that shite when we were 7 or so y.o, she was a few months younger than me but we were in the same year at school and had started out in the same kindi and primary school. Fast froward to a summer holiday night in early 1983. We'd been to see a move and were walking back to our street from the bus stop through the bush. There was lots of light around from some near by flood lit sports fields.

begin digression

I'd seen her naked before in a variety of contexts, from truth or dare games with other kids to being a peeping tom and perving on her in the shower or even brazenly pulling her top off at the beach once.

I had always been very sexually experimentive and sure of myself, from feeling up girls in primary school to brazenly pashing the girls when we played catch and kiss on the playground.

We weren't boy friend/girl friend, we just knocked about, went camping with other kids, played on the local soccer team together, did martial arts, swim team, sailing on her dads dingy. Built a cubby house in a tree. We were friends. Perhaps saying that I knew that she had a crush on me may be a bit much but I knew she'd be game if I asked. I certainly had a crush on her and would get a boner in seconds if I thought of her in that way. Which she would purposefully illicit every now and again by flashing me a boob or saying something suggestive.

..end digression , back to the walk home..

There's sort of a grassy clearing in the bush there with a big white sandstone bolder that had rolled down the hill from some cliffs higher up. As we walked through the clearing I piped up the courage to say - 'Hay Ro', ( her name was Rowena), 'Take your clothes off and stand on the rock. I want to see you naked'. She stopped and looked at me and said quid pro quo. She went to a snobby private school where she did Latin and stuff and always made me feel dumb - I had no idea what she meant but pretended I did and she took me by the hand and lead me up and onto the rock. It's a full on rock climb to get on top but on top it's flat, bigger than a dining table and full of memories of games as kids. She laid out the rules, you take something off me and I take something off you.


Cool, I thought.


She was taller than me, very fit with long legs and long long blond hair, pretty but not beautiful, sort of a boyish body with small very round boobs and straight up and down hips but I liked her tummy - you could see the mussels; long on either side, cut abbs and the long narrow oval belly button. Her back was nice, mussels but smooth and tan from all the sports.

I started with her shoes;

- chest pounding -

she with mine,

- nervous tight tingling feeling in my hands and chest like I'm breathing butterflies -

then socks,

her cut off jeans.


She stood up for me and I pulled them down slowly, she was facing away from me, half way down I cheated and pulled her undies aside in the middle and had a good look, pulling her apart a bit to see better. When they were off and she was standing there she asked me “what do you want – what do you want to do”. I've very clear memories of that night except for what I said next, I can still see her standing there in a loose white t-shirt, it had a little flag on one sleeve, and smallish light tan coloured cotton knickers, little straps on the side, I can remember the chest pounding heartbeat, her goose pimples, the smell of the little wet patch on her undies. I know by “what do you want to do” she meant "how far do you want to go tonight" , but I have no idea what I replied to her, the memory of the nervousness and euphoria is however acute, what ever it was she replied 'OK, good' .

- ravenously horny, and I knew we were going to fuck -

She folded up her pants and put them under her and sat or knelt down and tugged my shorts down. Undies and shorts at the same time. I knew when she pulled them down that my cock would be right in her face and I imagined my cock rubbing against her neck and cheek so I sort of purposely aimed myself at her. As they came down I sprang up and whacked her in the face and straight away she took me in her mouth whilst my pants were still around my knees. The world stopped for me. I had imagined her doing this to me for ages and here I knew that I would remember this for the rest of my life.

She stopped and took my pants off the rest of the way. I clearly remember her transfixed on my cock. She was looking at it and had my testicles cupped in her hand like she was weighing them. I wanted to take her knickers completely off but I didn't want her to let go of me so I took her top off first. She didn't have a bra on so when I pulled it off there she was, holding my balls and sitting naked but for a pair of knickers. Her hair had come out of the clips when I took her t off so she let go of me and and was putting it back, I reached froward and tried to pull her knickers off whilst she was doing her hair up but she was sort of sitting on her butt so it was kind of awkward, she was leaning back and shifting from side to side to help me. Kind of anticlimactically they came off.

But now she was naked.

- tickling in the chest, can't breath out properly-

She took my t off so now we were both naked.

I was a skinny teenager. I'd done lots of sports so I wasn't a total weed but I had long gangly arms and legs that I hadn't grown into yet. I'd never thought of myself as good looking or worried about what I looked like at all. It had never crossed my mind that someone would want to see me naked so I was thrown when she said that she liked my shape and started rubbing my chest. It felt nice to be told that and I had a very warm feeling inside alongside all the other butterflies. I became aware of her breath near me and started to hug her and feel her up. I remember how warm she felt. I spent ages rubbing and licking her nipples delighting in making them go all stiff.

I asked her to lie down so that I could look at her which she did for me, laying out some of the cloths against the roughness of the rock and adjusting her a bit so that I could see better in the lights. She had a very calm expression on her face as I peered between her legs for ages, I looked, I poked, I tasted. I knew what was what but I had always assumed that the hymen completely covered the entrance except for a small hole. I sort of imagined a gossamer thin 'membrane' like a piece of stretched balloon so I was disappointed thinking that she had already lost her virginity and asked her about it. She was a virgin she said, and guided me to all the relevant bits to satisfy my curiosity and suggested that if I wanted I could look again later and see if anything had changed.

She sat up and made me lie down where she had been then squatted over my face and told me to lick her first. Her / my aim was off and I ended up licking her ass as much as anything else but she went wild for it any way. Bending forward she started 69ing me and licking my nuts, my anus, my whole cock. I have no idea how I didn't come.

She turned around and asked me 'How do you want to do it?' I had a massive lump in my throat and couldn't answer but somehow we manoeuvred ourselves into the missionary without loosing any skin.

I was kind of lying on top of her trying not to squash her and we positioned everything. I remember feeling this sort of pushing sensation which I look back on a sort of prompt from evolution - here is how you do it son - I really wanted to push. Well, here it was. Time

I expected more resistance. She gave a little yelp and pressed her hands against me to slow me - she had this face that was half way between a grin and a grimace but let me go further till it was in to the hilt. I waited for a bit then the pumping urge took over. We'd seen plenty of porn by that time in our lives and knew what it was all about. She wriggled a hand down between us and started playing with herself. We tried a few positions. Her on top was good, she was sitting up which gave em a great view of her. She told me it was OK to do it inside her, she hadn't had her period yet - whatever that meant, I hadn't thought about condoms or pregnancy or anything like that. Then bang, gasp, all over. We sat there for a while, her on top of me rubbing herself till she came. She stood up and it all dribbled out of her onto me which I didn't expect and thought was odd - something else you never see in the pornos. She offered me a tissue and as we cleaned up. She put her t-shirt back on and lay back down and pulled her knees up into her chest. I can't say I saw too much that was different except for the raw look and some blood around the minora. 'Does it hurt'. 'No but it still feels full like it is still inside me'.

Pretty soon after that the teen social dynamic started to dictate our friendship. She was definitely one of the 'in' crowd, I was a total dork. She stuck up for me on the school bus once tho' some kid was being a bit of a bully calling me gay or some such and she said something like - 'lay of him Martin, he fucks like marathon runner - you're just a fuck head'. Respect.

Over the next year we fucked a few more times then I moved house. I was a bit of a geeky dag and didn't have girlfriend until year 11 but she had a series of boyfriends pretty much after that. We smiled and chatted when we saw each other on trains to and from our respective schools but never dated. I hooked up with her again at an inter varsity winter games where we did a threesome with another girl who later became her lover - not for the last time in my life would I 'turn' a chick. She was with her for at lest a few years that I know of and I suspect, given that I just Googled her and found that she's working under the same surname that they are still together. And me... well, I may have a few more stories that would be worth the telling :-)

Where's the freaking monkey?

So I have been a bit distant, not as online as I want to be. Sorry.

Unfortunately it is not because I have discovered the love of my life and been busy shagging in the glow of a plasma heightened environment. No, sad to say, much more mundane than that.

For me it is that time of year where I am called to travel to distant shores and exotic cultures to play games of skill for buckets of gold. Sound good? It is but I'm not telling you where or how or what.

The reality is that the working holiday is still a few weeks away, but in order to make that time I need to get other real life chores sorted so that I am not bothered by the minutia of day to day business while off playing.

I thought I would just jot down a few things that have made me laugh or pushed my buttons of late. The moments that have tickled me.

1 - I had noticed on Facebook that my XGF was listed as being in a relationship, she was also listed as "looking for what ever she could get". This made me laugh because it summed her up perfectly and she probably did not even realise how succinct a self assessment she had made.

2 - The awkward look and silence when I queried my XGF about her new relationship, "so who is the luck boy?" was all I asked.

She shuffled her feet, looked at the ground and mumbled something about "now that would be telling..". Again I laugh because I don't actually care who it is, as a friend I would like her to be happy and I was going to use the conversation as an opening to say that. Alas, either there is no man or I know him and she thinks I will care.

I mean I do care. Who ever he is, will have some great sex, spend a shit load of money and get shafted in the end. Been there, done that, bought the shirt - she took the shirt so I can't prove anything but I know I took that ride....

3 - Shopping and clubbing with a 20 year old dance partner. That is good fun. Really good for the old ego. As a wise man once said, you are only as old as the woman you feel.

The best bit here is she has a boyfriend, there is no expectations, it is a genuine platonic relationship that involves moving, grooving and grinding in public places, in a way that says to the rest of the world that you actually shag like rabbits when you get home.

Now the shopping bit I can normally take or leave - I am a real bloke after all, but we are in a comp together so need to look like partners and spent an afternoon doing the rounds sorting out WTF we were going to wear.

We recently spent an afternoon in dressing rooms with some of the smallest bits of cloth I have seen. The moment that made it all worthwhile...."Sorry babe, I am really struggling to keep looking at your face with that top on" to which she replied, "No seriously, I don't want you looking at my face, what is it doing for my boobs? Do they look good? Are my abs cut enough to get away with it? Seriously check it all out, I need to know the truth ok?"

Fuck I love dancing.

4 - My media player and plasma TV. I got this cute little black cylinder with a giant hard drive that plays all my video stuff. It also has a high definition digital tuner so it can be used as a PVR (Think Foxtel IQ or Tivo). Everything I download is stored on there and plays straight to the TV.

Music, Movies, TV, DVD's and downloaded stuff from the interwebs including Pr0n - all of it available at the flick of the remote on 42 inches of viewing pleasure with full surround sound to keep the neighbours kids awake. There does not seem to be anything it can't play. I love it.

5 - Californication. I am not home much these days and I have little patience for live TV normally. There is nothing ever on when you want it to be. I have given up waiting for ad filled crap to appear on Aussie TV, late at night and weeks, months or even a year after it aired in the US or even Uzbekistan.

Californication is one of a hand full of guilty TV pleasures. Despite the networks here getting their shit together so we are only a week behind, I still download it because the time slot guarantees I will forget to record it.

Sure it has some raunchy sex scenes (well raunchy for TV..) but I actually like the characters. It feels well written and warm underneath the laugh out loud funny spots. I have an empathy for the characters and David Duchovny lives the life I would have if I was a drug fucked, sex addicted playboy writer. It makes me smile so I love it.

In the same group is Dexter - a forensic cop who specialises in blood splatter and just happens to be a serial killer. Very warped but again, so well written it tickles me. I have no idea if it will ever make it to Aussie TV but I am into the second series care of bittorrent and really look forward to each half hour of Dex digging himself a deep, deep, blood and body part filled hole.

6 - Fitness. I am officially bringing sexy back. Justin Timberlake can go fuck himself because I am gonna be the man. This has been a long term project (life long really) and I can pin point where I fell off in the deep dark past and where I am now compared to my peak fitness.

You know you are getting it back when you roll out of bed and straight into 25 minutes of crunches, chin ups and free weights then do the same again before getting into bed. When you dance a minimum of 4 nights a week for about 2.5 hours each time, and go to a climbing gym for a few hours once a week. You know your getting it back when it feels worse to not do it, than it does to do it.

Summer is here and the toys are coming out. I am still not where I was at 20 years old before a big MoFo of a motor cycle accident but I feel like I am going to get there real soon and I am loving it. Not being in a relationship is sure helping this little selfish bit of physical abuse.

7 - Peace returning to blogland. There were a few weeks there where the wheels fell off for a lot of people but we all seem to be back on track. I come here for a good time and a good laugh. It feels like the happy gas is flowing again.

Highlights include Kitty and the tin foil hats, bringing back the Smack, Phish getting some lovin, Steph getting molested by a crazy old Scott, Fingers disappearing up his own butt and the Captains suicide hot line. There are lots more but if you are reading this then you probably already read them too.

Photo finish.

"Give it to me.....quick, I want to see it go in..." she panted.

She handed me the camera, the video lead snaked across my leg as I thrust it between us, aiming it at her snatch.

Around us the images glowed on the tv screens, every where we looked we could see us, it was like mirrors on steroids. Surrounded by porn stars that were us. Unlike mirrors though we were not looking back at ourselves, it was odd because we knew it was us, it was in real time but it was like an out of body experience. I had always known I wanted to watch us fuck but this was wilder than any of my dreams.

The concept had come from a party a mate of mine had many years previous. We had collected every spare TV we could get out hands on and hooked them up to VCRs playing a loops of interesting video clips, some Disney Fantasia, Tron - anything that was interesting as visual background noise for the party.

I got lucky at that party and I can remember kissing and fondling with a girl in a room lit by nothing but flickering televisions full of colour and action to the pumping sounds of some cheezy 80's rock. At some point that night the idea solidified in my mind. If all those TV's were showing us, how fucking hot would that be!

It took some years to make it happen and I had to call in a favour or two and find the right girl for the gig.

She was definitely nervous and over a glass of wine we talked about the set up. The cameras had no tapes and the video feed went straight to a television or monitor. This was about live action. I didn't want it recorded any more than she did.

We had a total of 5 screens with a camera each. One camera was on a long lead so we could have fun and move it about - the others were all fixed. The bed had been moved to middle of the room and the monitors ringed us so that no matter where you looked you got a differnet angle.

The fantasy actually called for the electronics department of a Harvey Norman or Bing Lee store on steroids, 50+ TVs would be fucking amazing but you work with what you can get...

Kneeling naked on the bed together, we kissed. The first difference was our eyes. Normally when we kissed our eyes were closed, this time they were wide open. We caught each other sneaking a peek at a screen and giggled.

"This is so odd...you are a freak! I love it!" she said.

I pulled her in tight and looking over her shoulder admired the image of my hands running down the small of her back to her backside. In the blue light of the screens I could see the muscles in her shoulders tense with an intake of breath as I spread my hands over that peachy ass and pulled her in tight.

I gently turned her around so we were facing the same way, she was still kneeling, her legs slightly spread and a slight glow to her skin from the warmth of the evening. I peeled her hair back as she rolled her head to the right, exposing the nape of her neck for a kiss that I knew was her weakness.

The reaction was like a spark jumping from my lips to the exposed skin. From the corner of my eye I could see her reach up to her breasts and take one in each hand - kneading and tweaking the nipples. It always drove me wild that she enjoyed her own body.

There was no room for me to play there so I let my hands reach around the front and drop into her lap. Running my fingers from her hips, down the top of her thighs to her knees I watched on the screen to my left as her back arched and her eyes snapped open.

The screen in front of us was actually showing us from behind and slightly to the right. We could see two faceless strangers in a tight embrace, their two heads resting against each other, hers leaning back onto his shoulder, hair spilling over his shoulder, his arms reaching around the front and obviously up to mischief.

I ran my fingers back up her thighs, nails dragging firmly along the smooth skin, following the curve or her muscles until they curved back in towards her honey pot. I kissed her neck again, lingering and sucking lightly on the skin as my right hand cupped her mound and my fingers gently parted her moist lips, sliding effortlessly from back to front between her folds.

Leaning back into me she pushed her knees further apart and I dipped what I could of my finger into her. Her head was panning around the room, I could see her looking from screen to screen as her breath quickened.

"This is fucking insane, I didn't actually think this would be a turn on but fuuuuuuuuck.....every where I look is skin"

With my spare hand I passed her the roving camera "Here you go, use this to see anything you want to see on the TV over there" I said.

"I want to watch you put it in me...right now.."

"I want to eat you first.."

"Fuck that, I want your cock right now, I won't last another minute like this."

How could I argue with that? She leant forward then rolled onto her back bring her knees up. With the camera in her left hand she aimed it a her pussy while the right hand dived right in parting, exploring and rubbing while she looked at the screen in fascination.

I had to lean in and taste her. I was just two damn hot and loved eating her. "Get out! I can't see with your head there" she moaned.

".....quick, I want to see it go in..." she panted.

"You'll have to hold the camera, I want to see you enter me."

Kneeling between her I held the camera in one hand and guided my throbbing member with the other. On the screen I could see the head head of my cock resting against her lips, as I pulled it back it glissend with her wetness. As I leaned into her again we watched as she slowly took me in. I teased her, gently rocking the head in and out of her.

The screen was filled with pussy, fingernails and cock. Her fingers holding herself open for me, the folds gripping at my cock as I pulled back, then rolling in again as I pushed forward.

Looking around the room there were heaving breasts and the side of her head looking away from one camera, my back and ass framed by her legs, toes pointed on another. My head was spinning, her back was arching. She held a nipple in each hand, stretching her tits towards the ceiling in a way that always made me wonder how much of it was pleasure or pain.

I slid all the way into her for the first time and she shuddered, it send fireworks through my groin as she gripped me. She released her tits and grabbed for my hips, dragging me deeper in to her. I had lost track of the roving camera and got reprimanded for filming the sheets not the action. I regained focus and we watched the action again. I moved the camera back so she could see it from my perspective.

I wanted her to see how beautiful she was in this moment, the way she glowed was we made love, the curve of her rib cage and her hair spread over the pillows. The beads of sweat running between her breasts and down to her belly button.

"Fuck we look hot...." It was last sensible words to come out her mouth as she tried to tear chunks out of the sheets on either side of her. As she bucked underneath me I lost it too. Spilling my load deep inside.

In all the action, the roving camera had come to rest on the bed beside us. Glancing over at the screen, the room was on it's side, it took me a moment to figure out what I was looking at. It was aimed at my favourite part of her body but just from an angle that made it all the more special. Full screen I could see the that oh so sexy little valley of skin between the tummy and the hip. It was like a flowing field of golden wheat with a hint of forest in the distance. A smear of shared sweat caught the light, flickering with each short breath.

As I looked away from the screen and into her eyes, I was ready again.

It was going to be a very long night indeed.

Bye bye baby..

Ciao Miss Smack. It is sad to see you go under these circumstances.

Don't be a stranger, it always made me smile when I saw your eyes in my comments section.

I hope I get to hear one more saucy tale from your keyboard some time in the future.

Have fun out there in the real world!

---

UPDATE: After a special request from Kitty, we now have rushed our hordes of under paid illegal immigrant workers into production of a female range of shirts.


DISCLAIMER: All children involved in the production of these quality garments were over 6 years old (but not more than 11) and were allowed two toilet breaks per week. The monkey takes no responsibility if you fail to fill out the shirt as advertised or for the lack of availability of the above garments as they are not actually for sale. Any and all proceeds will go to a good but undisclosed cause...

A helping hand..

It was only a handful of whispered words but they had me hard in an instant.

"I want to taste you.."

There was only one problem, we were sharing the room with four other people and no one was very far away. How to do this quietly? What seemed like a fun idea, a group of friends and a party room was suddenly cramping our style. Funny how some times you are not thinking straight when planning a weekend away.

Her finger gently circled my belly button, tickling gently at the trail of fluff leading down to my cock. With a little push she slipped a finger under the waist band of my underpants and ran a nail along the side of my straining member.

I bit down on my lip to suppress the groan that was building in the back of my throat.

"Come out to play" she cooed as I was freed from the fabric constraints. Well nearly free, the waistband was now peeled back and tucked under my sack, lifting my balls as if presented like breasts in a corset. She cupped them and gently pulled on the pubes and raked her nails over the soft folds.

"You have to be quiet" she giggled in my ear, "don't want to wake the neighbours..."

I reached down for her slit and found it wonderfully wet. I dipped a finger in as she rolled her hips away from me. "no..not me, just you"

I slipped the finger into my mouth to taste her, I wanted her more than ever. "later, just lie back be quite and enjoy!"

Her hand gripped the base of my cock and slowly slid up the length of my shaft stopping just short of the head then her thumb ran a quick circle around the head before she pushed down again to the base. With more pressure this time she squeezed and slowly worked me, teasing and keeping a consistent and tortuously slow pace.

Normally a quickening of the action would be needed to move things along but with each caress the tension built until I could feel the gun was loaded and my hamstrings felt tensioned like a bow. The feeling of her erect nipple rubbing on my arm, tracing gentle, almost imperceptible arcs on my bicep made the blood thump in my ears. Her leg was curled over mine and I could feel the heat of her cunt against my thigh.

Every muscle was tensed trying to stifle the cry that was trying to charge out from my lips.

She knew exactly when I was going to let go. On the last stroke she pulled my underpants back over my throbbing knob to contain the flow. I nearly burst out laughing at the sheer cheekiness of the manoeuvre. In her enthusiasm I had been given a wedgie that in an odd way just added to the intensity of the whole moment. I pressed my head back into the pillow, rocking gently with the after shocks.

She pressed her mouth hard against mine, and we kissed hungrily as the dampness spread through the thin cloth. Slowly she pulled back and in the half light of the room I could see her licking the palm of her hand. "mmmm, good boy....now sleep tight my lover..."

Cause and effect

Recently I was having a conversation with a friend and we got onto one of my favourite subjects, me and what makes me, me.

She was curious as to why I often tread softly with other peoples feelings, why I don't just jump in with both feet at the first sign of an invitation and yet charge through other aspects of life like a bull in a china shop, competing and enjoying every moment like is my first or last day on the planet.

At first I didn't have an answer and it got me thinking about the moments in life that made me who I am. Out of the fog came a moment that I think changed me and how I think about our interactions with each other.

Probably 10 years or so ago an acquaintance lost their battle with depression and committed suicide. It was a tragic waste of life and left a wife and kids battling with the loss. Now I did not know this person or his family very well, he was in that circle of people you know at arms length, you may see once a year at an event or through business.

Out of the blue I got an invitation to attend the funeral. Now like most people, funerals are not my preferred outing but I knew other people who were going and a part of me felt that under the circumstances it may have been important for his family to have the support.

The first thing that struck me was the reaction of his church to his passing. The ceremony was held in a hall rather than the church. It seems that because it was a suicide the church and his priest refused to have the ceremony in the actual church. I was also shocked to hear that members of the congregation that were supposed to be his closest and dearest friends refused to attend because of the nature of his death.

Now I am not a religious person at all. I am an atheist and I can tell you that the sort of bullshit pulled by this particular denomination of organised religion only confirmed my thoughts that religion is a human construct, more about controlling people than anything else..but I digress.

After the funeral and during the wake I was approached by his wife. She was doing the rounds tearfully thanking those who attended and did not pass judgement on him taking his own life. That was moving but nothing prepared me for her next comments to me.

She started to tell me about a moment that he and I had shared together many years previous to his death. It seems that we had spent a morning together doing what we do and I had taken him along for the ride and included him in my team and what we were doing that day.

Apparently he had had a great time and been over joyed at being included and participating in that days events. He had enjoyed it enough so that he had talked about that day years later and not long before taking his own life.

What hit me as this story was being told was that I had no recollection of the events she was describing. I was standing their dumbstruck trying to recall the day, where we were, what we were doing and how on earth it had come to pass that I had included this person in my team on that day. I honestly did not remember it or his involvement in anything I had done in the past.

Slowly it came back to me over the subsequent days but with it was an overwhelming feeling of fear and confusion.

Here was a day in the life of someone that was of importance to them, where the interaction I had with them held relevance and thankfully positive memories. Yet for me it was a blink of the eye, forgotten as soon as it happened, another in the string of adventures and for me no different to many before and after.

I was slightly shaken by the thoughts of other interactions less positive I had had in the lives of those around me. If a positive event can stay with someone in that way, then how long must the negative ones bounce around in peoples life?

Now obviously not everyone is a sensitive to such things and I know that I sure let go of things and move on reasonably fast but it made me aware that we don't always know how others are interpreting our actions and it is that thought that has hung with me ever since.

I try to walk softly, I am sure I don't always succeed. That is who I am.

9 minutes of gold..

Now this is not about nine minutes in the sack with me...No, this about the boys from the Chasers War on Everything.

If you missed the show or the numerous stories about their antics at the recent APEC (or was that OPEC?) meeting then some kind netizine has put it on Youtube for our viewing pleasure.

Thanks boys, I have never laughed so hard when I really should have been crying over the wasted money.

Not a dry eye in the house...

Some things get to me. I have to admit that a well told story or film can make me go a big rubbery one. I don't like to see people suffer and even when on the outside looking in I still get caught up in the moment.

Amazingly this weekend I have just finished a book that I would put at the top of the heap and seen a film that got me too.

The time travellers wife by Audrey Niffenegger is at it's heart a love story. It is not the sort of book I would normally pick up but I was grabbed from the first page. I brief, Henry has a genetic disorder that has him involuntarily dragged backwards and forwards in time.

Clare is his wife and she met Henry when she was 6 and Henry was 36, Henry first met Clare when he was 28 and she was 20. They were married when Clare was 22 and Henry was 30. Confused yet? You would think so but the way this story is told makes it not only seem plausible but for me at least, I was lost in their relationship and the challenges they faced. I expect I will re-read this book in a few months time. I enjoyed it that much.

As for the film, Adam Sandler in Reign over me was a surprise for it's depth and touch. It is not a light story and deals with a case of post traumatic stress disorder. It is a straight role for Adam and he played it in a convincing way. I went into this one a bit wary because it touched on the 911 incident but thankfully it only brushed past this fact and maintained focus on the victim rather than the crime.

So there you go. Two stories that have enriched my life for their telling and have on one hand convinced we that true love is worth looking and fighting for and on the other, that once you find it, loosing it could fuck you up big time.

---

The rugby world cup is on! It is that time again when the good League and AFL loving citizens of Australia dust off their Wallabies scarves and beanies to follow the Rugby World Cup.

In the past I was never a big fan of rugby in any of it's forms but have to say that when the Rugby world cup came to Australia back in 2003 I got the bug.

I was luck enough to get roped into a bit of fun for the opening ceremony and when you are that close to the game you can't help but get caught up in the fun. I've forgotten how many people were in the stadium that night but being out in the middle of the ground for that ceremony was mind blowing.

We had quite a few nights down at Olympic park drinking up the atmosphere in the outdoor bars and big screen where you had the roar of the crowd and the best seat in the house.

Great days indeed. Go the Wallabies, bring the Webb Ellis Cup home for the third time eh?

The quiff

Ok, I got bored with the climbing photo for my profile.

I have to admit I am not the climbing hero I used to be (was I ever??) so I have updated my self image to some smooth dude with a quiff that would put Elvis to shame.

Apologies to the cool cartoonist I stole this from, but that is what you get for drawing me when I am looking the other way.

I thought about using the sock monkey but the little bugger has too much control in my life already so I don't need to promote him any further.

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Update on the married woman in my life...we danced, we laughed and it is all cool. The sexual tension is there and it a is nice feeling for both of us to feel wanted in that way. Knowing it can't and wont go further has just turned it up a notch.

Crazy world.

Here you go, a story to brighten your day...or not.

There is a lady I know, an attractive and interesting lady that I have been flirting with for some time. We laugh, we make jokes and we blush when we hold eye contact for just a little too long. We dance together like long lost lovers.

It is good fun but I have not taken it anywhere because I am a silly boy and I have been wary of breaking the spell. Flirting is fun and the anticipation of what may happen has been as much fun as the reality.

Recently we partnered up for a workshop on advanced dance moves and style. It was great fun. Afterwards we went to dinner, just the two of us. It was a little romantic and you could say, pretty well where this had been heading for some time, it was just a matter of one of us making a move.

While we were talking about stuff I got into asking the big questions that lead to where she was in her life at this time. She got married young, moved to Sydney with her husband, had two children, finished a uni degree, started a business and is very successful in all that she does.

So I asked the next obvious question, when did she split with her husband....an awkward silence followed.

"I haven't...." she said.

My head spun. I had not seen this coming. She was always out and about town with no sign of a husband and all the airs of a carefree and single life.

"Um, I have to ask, what on earth are you doing here having dinner at 11pm with me when you have 2 kids and a husband at home and everything to loose?". It was not my most tactful moment and the mouth/brain filter had totally burnt out from the shock.

She smiled and shrugged, "Good question, sorry I don't have an answer for you....I have never cheated on him, I never intended to..", she trailed off.

Over the next hour we talked it out, we laughed, we flirted some more. It was good fun if not a little awkward now that cards were on the table. We set the boundaries so that we both knew it would go no further but we could still play silly buggers on the dance floor and be friends. I sent her home to her family with her fidelity intact, physically at least.

But the question remains and burns bright in my head today, what is cheating, where is the line? As individuals in a relationship we need to have our own space and do our own things but at the same time if you are doing or thinking things that you would not want your partner to know about, have you then crossed the line? Is cheating only consummated when it turns physical and until then we are free to fantasize and flirt?

I have never been on this side of the line before, the potential to be other man. I actually don't like it very much. It feels dirty and cruel. Having been cuckold myself, I found I could not do it to this man, this unseen husband and father of her children.

I actually feel a little cheated myself because I was on the edge of opening myself up to someone only to find that there was a hell of a lot more than the normal baggage that we all carry.

C'est la vie. What a fucked up world it is some times eh?

So, I'm a Playboy!

Thanks to seeing the idea over at Phishez blog, I have taken the time to do this little dating persona test over at www.okcupid.com

What can I say to this...you gals tell me. I'm off to buy a red velvet smoking jacket and a jumbo box of condoms while I wait for your phone calls!

Your results are in!
JoshCalvert, you are...

The Playboy
Random Gentle Sex Master (RGSM)

Clean. Smooth. Successful. You're The Playboy.

You're spontaneous, and your energy is highly contagious. Guys therefore find you fun to be around, and girls find you compelling. You have lots of sex, and you manage it all without seeming cheap or being hurtful. Well done. You probably know karate, too.

It's obvious to us, and probably everyone else, that you're after physical rather than emotional relationships, but you're straight up with potential partners. And if a girl you want isn't into something casual, it's no big deal. You move on. BEFORE sleeping with her. Usually. At least you try to. Such control is rare.

If you're feeling unfulfilled, maybe you should raise your standards. New conquests will only be satisfying if there's a possibility of rejection.

Always avoid: The Playstation (RGSM)

Consider: The Dirty Little Secret (DGSM), The Nurse (RGSD)

UPDATE: I had to alter my image a little, first of all I don't smoke and I figured while I was there I may as well put in what was on my mind..

She's a man eater..

I was looking through the dictionary the other day and found an enlightening entry that got me thinking.

MILF, Acronym; Mothers I'd Like to Fuck - see Stiffler's mom. A teenage fantasy made famous by the film American Pie and any number of online B grade porn sites.


I kept looking for the next entry that I was surprised was not there. MINF, the Mothers I'd Never Fuck.

Now obviously outside of some of those southern states of the USA, your own mother qualifies right away as a MINF so by that logic the acronym should be in use right? But I've never seen it.

Recently I met a MINF and this was what got me thinking along these lines.

As I have mentioned before, I do a fair bit of dancing. The cool thing about dancing is that you can be all sexy and sassy, shake your bits and grind your hips, say thanks and move onto the next girl and do it all again.

It is all the sexy bits with none of the mess or commitment with an unspoken boundary of fair play that ensures no one gets hurt. Now sure, eventually with all this hot and steamy action it will happen that there will be a spark between consenting adults and next thing you know you are swapping bodily fluids in the car park - but that only happens once or twice a week, you can't expect it every night you go out for a dance.

Unfortunately with all this sexual tension, you get the tourists that turn up looking for love. They don't really care about the dancing, so much. They wear way too much make up and perfume and are dressed as if off to a year 10 formal or worse still a B&S at Wagga Wagga - and this is just the guys. The girls can be really scary.

Normal mid week classes aren't too bad but it is the dance parties and socials on weekends when it gets really messy. It isn't a school night, the MILFs and MINFs tend to avoid church on a Sunday and most have shipped their kids off to the ex-hubbie or worse still have just left them at home with the current hubbie and are looking for a pants party.

Now when I had a GF, this all just passed blissfully over my head. Sure I saw the blood red lipstick and the plunging décolletage and the batting shag me eyes, but I had an inoffensive out to the common question "so are you here by your self" - well no actually see the 5' 7, 46kg blond grinding away over there, she is taking me home again tonight, sorry, maybe next week...

Things have changed. I have lost my polite excuse and am now at the other end of the food chain and it is not a nice place to be at times.

Which brings me to my recent scary moment and bit of blog fodder.

Normally for a bit of fun at the weekend dance parties they will quickly teach a few close moves late in the night so that people looking for an excuse to get close and cuddly can do it under the pretense of leaning a new move or two.

Now depending on the mood and the people teaching these can be really racy moves and you need to know your partner reasonably well or just want to get into their pants. You are going to be close and to look good it has to be steamy.

Anything else and it is as awkward as watching you aunt Mavis pretend she is Fergalicious against uncle Arthur. Welcome wrong town with a population of two.

So this night I was going to sit it out. The person I would have liked to have done it with was not there and the quick demo made it obvious I could not just ask anyone to do it. The unspoken vibe is that if I guy asks a strange girl to do a close moves class then his is obviously either a bit creepy or wanting a shag, the girls however seem to be able to ask anyone - go figure.

There was a tap on my shoulder and there she was a MINF. Presentable, under 50 but trying way to hard and as harsh as it sounds just not what I am looking for. With big brown eyes challenging me to reject her she asked if I would do the class with her.

"I was going to sit it out, got to change my shirt, I'm all sweaty right now.." I tried to say.

"Don't worry about that, sweaty is goood" she drawled.

Run away my brain screamed! Danger Will Robinson, Danger!

"Um....ok..." I said. It is good clean fun, it is not like she has two heads or anything.

The first move was nice and easy, some close quicksteps, spinning around each other. My right hand nice and secure up on her shoulder blade while her hand was allowed to wander lower down my back - did she just tap my ass???

Second move, turn her out and wind her back and around into a wrap and a couple of nice little CJ's stepping back and forth, our faces are only an inch apart and her eyes are blasting hole through to the back of my scull - man that is intense. My nostrils are being stripped raw by the perfume she bathed in before coming out for the night. It is starting to feel like a bad idea.

Third move, two options, unwind her and wrap her in front of me and control the following grind or wrap her in behind me and let her drive. I think I'll take option one so I can see what is happening.

As she rolls in front I end up close behind her, my arms wrapping around to her front and gently holding her arms crossed over her tummy. We gently rock left and right in time with the music as my left hand brings her left hand up to the side of her head for a sexy little glide down her hair, over her shoulder and bust and back to the hips.

This is all supposed to be done with her hand on her body and my hand on top. I am not supposed to cop a feel here, it is supposed to look dirty without being dirty but then it all goes wrong.

With each little roll of the hips, left then right and left again, she is pushing back into me harder and harder. As I bring her hand up to her face she leans her head back into me. I can't see the look on her face but a friend of hers sitting on the side of the dance floor is now laughing so I gather she is putting on quite the show of lusty enjoyment.

Guiding her hand down her neck and she deftly slips her hand out from under mine and squeezes my hand under hers as we hit her shoulder. As we rock to the right again my hand is pressed over her collar bone and onto the full left breast and dragged over a nipple that feels like the rock of Gibralta. Moments later and I am fighting to keep on track for the hip, she seems determined to go via another route.

Abort, Abort, Abort!!!!!

I make it to the hip and manage a controlled body roll before a nice little hip spin to gain some separation. She smiles at me like a Hyaena and squeezes my hand. Her friend who was watching has nearly slipped of her seat she is laughing so hard. I can feel by cheeks burning. This was not what I was looking for tonight.

We have a few more run practices of the mini routine and each time there is a fight over who's hand goes on top and where it visits. She wants to try the version where she is behind and in control but I just don't want to risk it. There are too many people watching as it is and I want them to dance with me later on rather than be scarred by the show she seems determined to put on.

The class finishes with a last run through then into the rest of the song to do with as we please. The lights go down and I am praying for the music to end so I can beat my retreat.

As the song fades out she rushes in for a big hug.."Thanks so much, that was great fun...Another song?"

"Um, Really need to change this shirt" I mutter.

"Ok, then maybe later?"

"Um maybe." I say glancing around the room for a 5' 7, 46kg blond to pretend is my GF...Hell I'll even take my XGF back right now if she is here.

"Say where do you normally dance?" she asks expectantly.

"Oh, this is my last night ever..I go into a monastery in the morning, in fact I have to go press and pack my robes...cya!"