Welcome!

Welcome to Ty as a new follower.

Visit his blog here.. Really cute tasteful pics to make it worth while adding him to your followers list..

Thanks

Sethy

The Real Journey - Part Four

After we had spent most of the afternoon at the Flying School, we went to the local shopping centre to pick up some things up for supper. His specialty was really good chicken curry, so we also stopped off at the Indian Bazaar for some spices and stuff.

His house wasn’t what I expected. It was an old ramshackle thing nestled between two decent looking places. There was an old car around the corner that looked like it had been standing on blocks for some time. The grass was long, and the garden in a general state of disrepair. Along the one side of house, there was a completely new section that had been built. The ‘studio’. Apparently he had built it himself, and while it was well built, it wasn’t quite finished. This was a common theme inside the house too. All these little projects that had been started and somewhere between 30% and 60% complete.

The kitchen units had doors, but no handles. The tops were still loose, and the tiles in the ‘new’ scullery area were obviously from three or four different batches, nothing quite matching properly. There were dirty dishes all over.

I helped peel and chop onions and garlic to prepare for the meal, which turned out absolutely amazing. We sat in the lounge and watched some TV while we ate. He asked about my family, friends and things like that. I was always a bit of a chatterbox, so probably did most of the talking.

After dinner, he showed me around the place. It was kinda weirdly set out. There was a small bedroom that was off the lounge which was being redone for his son. I never knew at this point that he had a son. He had rescued and subsequently adopted Richard when he was eighteen months old. The boy was being physically abused by his prostitute mother. He spent six months in hospital while they attended to his multiple fractures in his arms. Richard was with some friends of Trev’s for the night. He was three years old.

Richard - now a grown man and a drug addict - assures me that nothing sexual ever happened with his father. But more about him in later posts.

Then there was the spare room, which was where I was to sleep. A bathroom which was apparently out of commission as he was busy doing some plumbing work – a lie I figured out later. Then of course, the main bedroom.

To get to the bedroom, you had to walk almost through the en-suite bathroom, which was also not completed. The bath itself – which doubled as a shower – was huge, and sunk into the bathroom floor like a rudimentary Jacuzzi. I guess that was the plan, but it wasn’t executed very well. There was a large mirror on the opposite side, along with the basin and a large stone vanity top which was incomplete.

A shower was suggested before we could settle in the lounge to watch some videos. Of course, the other bathroom being out of commission, I had to use the main bedroom shower. Which had no door of course. Never being ashamed of my body, I stripped and showered. He walked in and out pretending to carry this and that, bringing me a towel and stuff.

At some point, he commented jokingly that I probably scared off the other boys with my cock as it really looked bigger than his. I laughed, taking it as boy banter, something which went on in the hostel showers as a matter of course. And it wasn’t the first time I had received a size comment anyway.

I had left my bag on his bed, and after I showered, I went into the room to change.

I guess it all started there. Before I dressed, he joked again about my size, and said he would love to see how big it got when I was hard. I made some excuse about not getting hard easily, and then said I was embarrassed because I really thought the way it curved off slightly to the one side was a serious by product of heinous wanking.

He had an answer for everything, and before I knew it, here I was sitting on the edge of some strange guy’s bed, wanking with Vaseline along side him. I was bigger than he was, so I felt better, and he was more bent than me. It was a revelation for me. I suddenly had enormous pride in my cock, felt normal for the first time, and although I was uncomfortable with him being naked and watching so intently as I stroked, I was turned on by my own body and happily came just before he did.

We cleaned up, and after that there was a lot of silence. There so much stuff buzzing around in my head. Gay, or homosexuality wasn’t a concept I even knew about. But I felt strangely comfortable being naked in front of him. We watched some or other video, still in the nude, and eventually I excused myself and went to my own room to sleep. I closed the door, and soon found myself rock hard as I replayed the evening’s events. I wanked and came again quite quickly, and drifted off to sleep.

I had to be back early the next morning, so early Sunday was uneventful.

I had just turned thirteen.

The W story

So further to my little rant about W using me emotionally.

I sent him a mail this morning that was a little sharp to say the least. We seldom actually talk to each other during the day, rather we swop sentences via text or mail. And usually a lot. Neither of us are actual 'talk on the phone' people.

I think he was pissed with me for not reacting to his text last night where he was bitching about his mom which I though was a little pathetic. I simply turned my phone off, and was going to say my battery went dead...

Anyway, so I sent a little mail to him this morning tellig him I think he was over reacting about his mother, and quite frankly not being very fair about the whole situation.

I took pics of his whole family last week in exchange for lunch :)

So his only mail to me today was : How are the pics coming along?

I answered : Almost Done, Hows you doing today?

Him: Fine Thanks

hmph....

Methinks he is no longer going to talk to me. Is this a bad thing? Probably not in the long run. but I have become accustomed to him being a really good friend when I am down too....

Fuck. Life is so fucked up sometimes.

Earth Hour stats

Some interesting stats to make me proud - even for Apathetic South Africans.

The electrical co (ESKOM) have calculated that 5,000,000 lights were switched off during the period - around 20% of all expected light bulbs that are normally on on a Saturday night.

200 tonnes of coal was saved, and 400 tonnes of carbon dioxide was prevented from entering our atmosphere.

We have a primarily a coal driven electrical grid, while there are two smaller nuclear power stations supplying the Cape Town Area.

South Africa is investing heavily into Pebble Bed nuclear power research. Last year, it was clear we have a grid which is undersupplying, and we went through a bunch of blackouts while all sorts of maintenance was being carried out on the grid. We have a number of new stations (coal driven) coming online, but they are still a number of years away.

Every evening, during television programming, a little graphic pops up if the grid is under stress, urging us to switch unnecessary appliances off. It's a start.

Welcome more followers...

hey there Spastic :)

And finally, that other Seth has added me :)

And two pics as a welcome gift.

Stranger than erotic fiction

My friend Micky promises hours of edging as he incremetally publishes his work of erotic fiction here....

I can't wait :)

Sethy

Weekend of mixed emotions

My older brother married for the third time on Saturday. It was a casual affair in their garden. The pastor spoke sense, but spoke too long. The bride was beautiful, all the kids were behaved, the weather was amazing - unbelievably heavy unseasonable rains having abated just four days previous.

I caught the garter....

I have three brothers, who all live very different lives. It is always amazing when we can all be in the same place at te same time. It has only happened about six or seven times over the last fifteen years.

My brothers are all successful businessmen in their own rights. The eldest is in the sand and stone business, and more recently manufactures steel mesh for concrete reinforcing. Brother 2 is an electrical contractor who spends most of his time involved in hotel refurbishing. Younger brother is a broad based geologist now in a consulting role.

Yours truly has drifted through life on a career front, having chosen to be a light in others' lives. The pattern has been to join the underdog, and build bad processes into efficiency, at which point boredom sets in, and I drift to the next one. Eight years ago, I started a courier business, borrowed money to capitalise, and failed spectacularly, and went back to rescuing others.

More recently, I worked with little brother, and find myself specialising within the geology field. A major contract, which I have been chasing since last year has been 'indefinately postponed', leaving me technically unemployed. I am still owed money on a project completed mid February, and when they eventually pay me the balance owing, I will be able to survive for another four months or so.

Right now, I have a zero balance bank account, a petrol tank that has about another 40km petrol in the tank, some emergency food in the kitchen, and one packet of cigarettes. I have rent, telephone, child support, school fees and other small bills to pay this week. On Friday, I was told that the paperwork submitted for my Invoice for the work I am owed for was a fuckup (My agent), and payment has not been approved.

So being with my brothers over the weekend, has left me feeling a complete failure. I know it is irrational. So yesterday, the only thing that kept me together was the fact that my youngest daughter was with me for most of the day.

Iain offered to buy me a drink or two last night, which was very welcome... Just before I arrived, W texted me about what his mother had done to piss him off. I decided not answer. It is so fucking trivial. He has to get a grip on reality for a change. Everyone tiptoes around his 'issues'.

I have realised that he uses me as some sort of emotional crutch, without realising how difficult it is for me. I have loved him since the first day I met him, and chose to remain friends with him after we failed to get a relationship going. His 'issues' revolve around an ex-boyfriend of his. Everytime he talks about it, it hurts inside me. I really don't want to know anymore.

So I spent last night venting at Iain.....

And was angry when I got home. I still am, but just have to get through this week somehow.

Sorry for the depressing crap. I promise it will get better soon...

Sethy....

Bored. Some pics to enjoy.

And I'm not yet ready to post the next in the Journey series. it will come out during the weekend though.

I enjoy playing around with images like this

I am confused with this "followers thing"

I follow 27 blogs, Only twelve show up on my page....

How do I get the rest to show? Micky mailed me to tell me he though it was unfair that he shows a link to me, but I don't link back. But I do, but it doesn't show....

So first of all, visit his blog, place him on your followers list then....

Help....

EDIT..... I think I figured it out :)

The 'Y' generation self pics

I am always intrigued by the number of Y generation self pics that appear around on the ether. I have a few pics of myself when I was young and beautiful that I guess could easily compete with what is around. But of course, I don't think I would ever post them - and don't bother asking for them either lol.

I have two teenage daughters, and shudder to think that they may get their hands on them one day through some random boy site (I think they are both straight). Or God forbid, I come across one of their pics through some random search...

My oldest brother also has a teen daughter. Through a series of furtunate decisions, he is rather wealthy, and at some point allowed his daughter to move into the cottage adjoining the house. She invited a girl friend over with permission from her parents, but the two girls also invited their respective boyfriends around without the knowledge of my brother.

They took some (innocent) pics, and posted them on facebook. A few days later, a parent from the school called brother, and wanted to know how he can let boys stay over? Needless to say, she is back in the mainhouse, and is no longer allowed on the net in her room. And rightly so.

The converse of all of this is:

Each generation grows up into a norm of acceptable behaviour. Posting self pics, sending each other nude self pics (which opens up the distinct possibility that they will posted somewhere on the net without their knowledge) appears to be acceptable within the generation involved.

So the scenario is this: Let's say I post one of my teen self images on some site, and at some point, one of them or their friends figure out its me. What would in fact be their reaction? Okay I know my girls pretty well, and I seriously think it would be:

"Oh look, that's Dad! Awwww... he was also doing it at some point! Cute! We love our Dad! Always ahead of the game, and not a bad looker when he was young."

So the question of the day is: How would you feel if one of your kids or one of your parents discover your nude self-pics on the net?

I believe everyone should be open to their kids about sex and the consequences. I speak openly about it to mine. They are sexually aware young people, and should not be in the dark the same way I was. They are aware of my sexuality, but I don't flaunt it. It's usually an innocent comment about Wentworth Miller or something like that. Or one of them may ask me whether this (male) celeb, or that is hot? It's cute really.

In hindsght, my mother played a big role in my life in my twenties, after I eventually left Trevor (for the umpteenth time). She realised then that I was a sexual being, and we spoke a lot about sex openly. She too has had her own share of sexual partners in her life, and I am not awkward about talking about it.

When I came out to her officially, she simply expressed disappointment that she would have to now compete with one more person for the hot boys around.

I love my mother, even though she makes me mad sometimes lol.

We never really grow up. Ever.

A bachelor's party

So, Sethy is pretty pished right now, but there is a post deserved. Perhaps tomorrow I will cum back to edit.

Older brother is doin' it for the THIRD fn time (when will they ever learn, when will they eeeever learn - just add music)

Oh dear, me and future brother in law carried the boy to bed... he was mumbling and basically devoid of any muscle movement. A lot of tequila. I only had four. My guess is closer to eight for him, plus plus plus.

oooooh and Torchy! boy mentioned a certain Shannon on his blog.

Swimbabe Shannon used to post pics on YGL, and quite understandably stopped because they were being posted everywhere. I so very much see his point. I am glad that the famous Torchy! is a friend of his, cos now I am an official follower. Please friends, reposting is just plain rude unless the subject/photographer is happy with it. I have a special folder for pics I have of him... okay call me whatever, but the man is just simply beyond beautiful.

Okay, so I am pretty devoid of muscle movement too, and mechanic boy was there tonight, and I have a date with him on Monday, so i bid y'all goodnight.

The Real Journey - Part Three

Trevor fetched me from the hostel early on Saturday morning. The drive to the airport wasn’t far. The school was in a small town, and had a surprisingly busy little airport. Busy in that there were a lot of owner-pilots and student pilots pushing planes around, carrying out pre-flights or listening intently to an instructor. I was in heaven. My father and his father were in aviation. It was in my blood. I wanted to become a fighter pilot. I wanted to soar up where the sky breathes, above the clouds where it is always a sunny day, or starry night….

The Cessna he had booked was a cute little red 172. It was my first time in a light aircraft. I had been in passenger jets, even flown a real Airbus and Boeing simulator, but never in something small. Yes, I was nervous, but above all, I was exhilarated.

After the pre-flight, we taxied out to Runway zero eight, and the old 172 rattled to life and trundled gently towards heaven. As the wheels lifted gently off the tarmac, I suddenly felt that meaning had come to my life. We flew about twenty minutes to where the flatlands met the mountains. There is a beautiful man made lake high in the hills, which we flew over, skimming the sails of lazy yachts and bored sailors. My little camera swallowed up film after film.

Perhaps it was the excitement, perhaps the low steep turns catching my inner ear off guard, perhaps the Welsh rarebit for breakfast, but soon I was puking my lungs out into a small brown bag. I was embarrassed, but we laughed at the suddenness of it all.

Once nice and level again, I took the controls, and did some lazy turns here and there, easing the nausea.

All too soon, the flight was over and the little red Cessna was ticking with warmth on the apron. We went to the flight school where Trevor seemed to know everyone. I was introduced all around, and met who was to be my future flying instructor, Big Bob. Trev bragged about how good a pilot I was already. It was cool. I felt good. I felt important talking to these pilots and pilots to be. It was as if I had walked into the Top Gun movie set. It was a good day so far.

More plans had fallen into place.

My Favourite Poem.. copy and paste it somewhere

After awhile you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn that love doesn`t mean possession
and company doesn`t mean security.
And you begin to learn that kisses aren`t contracts
and presents aren`t promises and you begin to accept
your defeats with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of an adult not the grief of a child.
And you learn to build your roads today
because tomorrow`s ground is too uncertain for plans
and futures have ways of falling down in mid-flight.
After awhile you learn that even sunshine
burns if you get too much so you plant your
own garden and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
that you really are strong
and you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn…

Veronica A. Shoffstall

The journey continues....

An exchange of letters

Ha! I decided to post this as a real feelgood piece. Some background: Nix was my 'girlfriend' for a large part of my highschool years. A couple of years ago, I was on a course in Perth and decided to fly over to Brizvegas to visit the girl I hadn't seen for two decades. We had been swopping mails, and I had come out to her already. We spent an amazing week together up and down the Gold Coast. neither of us expected how we were together that week. Anyways, below is a mail I sent her when I got home, and the mail she sent to me... It's heart warming and sad and happy. Just had to share...

To Nix

Ok, so we can dissect this thing a million ways, but really, we should just be celebrating the fact that we managed to get together after so many years.

Yeah, so chat is going to be really empty for a while, I know, cos suddenly we are two real people, with real issues and real feelings. Feelings which I never expected in a million years. When I was on the plane over to Brizzie, I kept asking myself: What the hell is going to happen? Why am I doing this? What is she going to be like? Are we just going to be two awkward individuals chatting about some small part of our lives in a past so far away? What are we going to do once we run out of stuff to say to each other?

Boy, I never expected the sparks, the connections, the mental (and physical) attraction that developed. What I never expected was the mutual counseling, the healing, the crying, the outpouring, the laughter, the feeling of being together for so long, the love, the confusion, the pain of leaving. The debates, the jokes, the holding hands……

God, I love to be surprised.

This week, has given closure to so many things. Holding your hand and kissing you with confidence, and without fear. I needed that. Sharing stuff that only my journal sees, I needed that. It was like I was in a safe house, where no-one knew where to find me, and I could confess and discuss, and cry. I needed that. The closeness and the honesty, I needed that. I have spent so much of my time, pretending to be this and that, all to make others happy, or to live out others’ dreams and expectations. Not even knowing I was doing that sometimes. But the honesty that leapt up between us, all of those pretences were gone, invalid, deleted.

This week, has also opened so much. I felt the ability to love and be loved, something which I thought I had lost. I have built so many defense mechanisms, they had closed off some really intimate channels. I felt I had met my doppelganger, my nemesis, my twin, my soulmate.

This week, I felt I gave back what I was getting in. I felt your pain, your healing, your laughter. I felt love being given and received.

This week, made the world feel a lot smaller. Made me closer. But also made me realize how far apart we really are.

I can easily regret going over, meeting you, welling stuff up that I didn’t want to see, feeling a connection growing that can only create pain in us being apart. But how can I regret feeling so good, seeing you smile, seeing you looking back in your mind, seeing the teenage Nix popping up in all the right places, feeling that knot in my stomach when we touched, feeling my soul stir when we kissed. So my fear of the physical between us is still there, but hell, we only had a week……

Nix, know this: I could grow old with you, I could be your neighbor, your partner, your counselor, your friend, even your lover.

I said this has been one of the best weeks in a long time. No, I think this last week is just the beginning of an amazing turn of events that will stay with me for a much longer time than that.

Yes, the defense systems have begun to kick in. The detachment, the denial, the putting away the feelings in a box somewhere. But the gears have changed, the seeds are planted, objectives and goals moved and re-arranged. Parts of my mind have been switched on, turned off, re-channeled.

I only hope that I have had the same effect on you, because what you have given me in such a short period, I can only wish I have given back to you.

******************

From Nix

When you said you were coming to Brisbane, I approached it with a mild disinterest and a little amusement because I felt detached from the world, incapable of feeling anything anymore. I knew that nothing you could bring to my door would shock me because I have been around and I've heard it all. I asked myself, "Why should your visit to Brisbane make me feel any different, after all, you are a perfect stranger to me". I thought, "It's odd that he should be so hell bent on seeing me. I don't count for much in anyone's books. Why is he even bothering, but I was curious to say the least."

Then you arrived. Surprised from behind by this grown man, so strong and attractive, full of smiles and laughter. Traces of the boy I knew the only proof that you are who you said were. I hugged you but surveyed you from a distance with curious amusement. Awkward conversation, the same like I felt when seeing my dad for the first time in 5 years.

In the taxi, my stomach knotted, thinking "How long is 4 days going to be" but I knew that once well-oiled I could have a conversation with a statue if I wanted to, so i relaxed. The first giggle when we realised the taxi driver knew what we were talking about... it felt delicious to laugh again.

That first night, I was watching you, talking and connecting but still detached... watching you all the time. Forgot about your birthmark.. then remembered, connect, bang.. Flashback... connect... your hand movements, mannerisms, animated stories.. slowly wakening the suppressed parts of my soul, remembering now. You shower me with gifts and I make a shrine, we take pictures..

Things seems to tick smoothly, universe conspires, great car... set to to enjoy.. I relax with you, not feeling threatened, afterall, you are gay.. we start to talk, i trust you implicitly, slowly i recognise you as part of me, my past, my soul starts to sway with happiness... there is movement but each time I slam my heart back down, thinking to myself.. nuh-uh don't let this run, there is danger here and he is not interested... don't make a fool of yourself..

Driving, talking, seeing nothing, laughing, swimming,drinking on the beach... I see the light in your soul, slowly opening.. we talk about dark things, you cry, i cry, we hold hands now..your gorgeous strong hands, it feels so comforting, like someone is on my side for a change.. i slam myself down, stop it, Nix, this is not what he wants..

Party at Jamo n Nadines. So good to see them.. I have missed them.. We talk, laugh get drunk, but now I feel an urgency.. in your touch, my touch..you leave with Jamie for a while..i feel bereft..i panic...lost... you kissed my forehead, i feel your adoration, i bask in the warmth of your sun. We sleep close, naked, touching but in denial.

Finally escape from Jamo's, need privacy to connect physically.. connect... Find ourselves at Le Beach, now I can breathe with you, explore your soul, your heart, find out where I left Sethy those years ago..we laugh till we cry, trust is manifested in conversations that are deep and meaningful, we kiss awkwardly.. not knowing each other's touch, you offer yourself to me but i feel you are sacrificing your identity. You trust me, i cannot allow you to do that to yourself, i refuse your offer of consumation..

Back home, you invite my ex-husband into our private space,i can see he is envious of what we have, suddenly i feel the contrast of what we've got compared to what he has and what he and i used to have, and I feel joyious to know that i have found my diamond and oh, how it sparkles.. you.

They go, we kiss, sweet music, this time, we find each other with comfort and ease, giving and taking hungrily, i think to myself, man, I could marry this man right now.. i detach, connect, detach, connect, bitter sweet, feel sexual and want to experience your inner being and you, physically.. fantasy frees our minds and eases you into a sexual being - I feel confident that it is possible, with time, to satisfy you in ways you never even dreamt of...

Our last private embrace burned in my mind, like a branded animal, never to be lost. You leave me with this image. We drive to airport, contained. We hold each other in the terminal, lost for words, kissing like lovers. You say, goodbye, i walk away, I come back, you say Go Now... an order, I walk off, fearing if I turn back, I will turn into a pillar of salt. I'm strong, i say.. I walk without looking back,just like in the movies.. I go down the escalator, mechanically stride out of the airport, the doors open, the warm air hits me and I dissolve into a thousand pieces, a nothing, a nobody, back to my invisible self. The sun is gone, it's raining, in my heart too. I can't walk,. I lean against the pillar, struggling for air. The tears falling like the rain, my heart the same colour as the grey skies. numb, can't feel. detached again.. floating like a wisp in the wind... released. you are gone, I am gone. Now i sit feeling like i have experienced a death. a second one. But my son says: "At least he is still alive mum" when he sees my tears, i laugh.. god that feels good to know that yes, YOU are alive...

You bring me closer than I was to B because we have history, deep roots in our culture, our background, our intelligence, our humour, and because we are both awkward with each other's sexuality..so much left to explore.. If you and B stood at the bar, and I were to choose which one to take, it would be you... i feel it is only the beginning...not the end. you could say another place another time but what we have is now.. not tomorrow or last week... When we meet again, we may need longer.. we may never meet.. but you know where i am and when you are ready, i know you will come and find me.. it may not be now or next year but you will find me when the time is right. It may even be too late, who knows. I leave that part up to you... I feel the same detachment and denial and reality checks but I am dreamer and since I feel that there is a small part of you that is alive to me, i guess i will always have a small glimmer of hope (pardon the pun, lol!). But if you find the body to match the mind and it is not me, you will always occupy a special place in my heart.. know that I love you. I love your whole being, with all the good and the bad, your awkwardness, you have a safe landing platform with me always...you are such a beautiful person and you are my shining star.

Nix

The Real Journey - Part Two

I was sent to boarding school for two main reasons. Firstly because my mother was a single mom with four boys, and finances were really tight. Secondly, future step dad had moved onto the scene, and I really didn’t like him so I really just wanted to get out of the house.

During 7^th grade, I had changed. Probably hormonal mainly. I matured physically quicker than my friends. I was in love with half of my male friends, and girls were irritating me. Sethy was a good looking boy, and top of the class, head prefect stuff. The girls all wanted a piece, and I was giving none. My first sexual experience was with a girl, the post is here. I really can’t remember how old I was when it first started to happen. I kept quiet about it because she was officially dating older brother who was already away at boarding school, so I felt crap about it. I was obsessed with wanking, but also thought it was an affliction and not aware at the time that everyone else was doing it.

When I arrived at the new school, I knew no-one except older brother – who I never really saw because he was in the senior hostel. Here I was in amongst a bunch of kids who had gone through junior school together, and I just felt out. I made a conscious decision not to wank. I thought I was doing something grossly wrong, and my cock had taken on a slight bias to the left, which I thought was horrible punishment for masturbation methods. Showers were of the group type, and I found myself to be rather larger than most of the boys, and was subsequently nicknamed accordingly. After two weeks, I couldn’t hold it any longer. I got up in the middle of the night to go pee, and ended up shooting my first real load all over the toilet in about ten seconds. I felt better already…..

Soon enough though, I made friends. More because after our first cycle tests, it became apparent that Sethy was a bit of the genius at the school stuff, scoring higher than everyone, and everyone wanted to be my friend. I started to get letters from girls. Valentines Day is a big affair at the hostel. The junior girls and boys shared a huge dining room for meals, so we were 300 kids at each meal. On valentines, all cards were delivered to the head prefects of the two hostels, and there was this whole ritual. The dining hall was decorated by the girls with balloons and hearts and stuff. After dinner, homework time (Prep) was cancelled for the ceremony of delivering all the cards and letters. Each one was read out, and the recipient had to walk up in front of the entire hall full of people to collect them. It was embarrassing, and it was meant to be. But fun…

So I was expecting about three or four. But ended up getting over fifty. And they let me sit down each time, then called my name again for the next one. So it was one of those things that legends are made of.

Then came the Initiation Concert (Groentjie Concert which literally means concert for the greenies lol). I was placed in a group of girls and we did three skiets. In the one, I was dressed in full scuba gear and had to sing “the Three Little Fishies”. It was a hit! My friends still talk about it today – twenty five years later. So Sethy was a bit camp back then, but because of my popularity, I didn’t really give a fuck. I loved wearing tight pants, and my hair was always longer than regulation. I could say stuff and get away with it.

That’s when Trevor first met me. He was the school photographer and had taken photo’s at the concert. I don’t remember him from then, but he told me about it after. He immediately made up his mind that he wanted me, and in typical pedophile mode, he started to plan. I can say that with absolute confidence, because I have seen him with other boys. The planning was meticulous. It followed a predictable path once you knew how it worked. There was always the confidence building. The building of trust. The ego strokes. The research into likes and dislikes. I saw it time after time over the next ten years. I know that his first response was love. The need for sex came after. I could see it in his eyes, in his mannerisms. He still firmly believes he has loved every one of his boys. I believe he did. But yeah, that’s no real excuse for sex with a minor actually.

A week after my thirteenth birthday, I joined the photographic club after my father bought me my first 35mm camera. It was a piece of shit, but it was mine. After the first meeting – run by Trev – he offered to get me a part time job at a photolab in town. He would arrange the necessary permissions with the hostel master. I felt special. Three days later, I was working at the shop with him, charged with film processing. I loved it. I got to spend a lot of time on my own in the dark, loading films onto a San Marco processor. I can still smell the chemicals and hear the nitrogen been pumped through the developer in short sharp blasts.

At some point, he found out I was crazy about anything aviation, and offered to take me up in a Cessna since he had just completed his PPL. I was ecstatic and I called my mother to get permission to go out with for the weekend so we could do some flying. She agreed and I could barely sleep the next three nights waiting for the weekend.

His planning started to pay off.

What a life changing weekend it was to end up being…

Crappy Day after cool night out

Fuck I feel down today....

Down because I just seem to be attracted to all the wrong people lol...

Take the mechanic from last night. Recently divorced, bitter about it. He is in the same place I was a few years ago. Drinking too much, hanging around playing pool like a teenager. Obviously neglecting his business to a point where money is becoming an issue. Huge insecurities about who is.

On a physical side, he is so out of the box I normally place myself in. Older than my usual taste (hell, I am a sucker for a scally 25yo). Yet besides the age thing, he is damned good looking in a scruffy tradesman kinda way. He smiles ALL the time. Amazing abs - presumably from the physical nature of his trade. Then he says at some point (he knows I am gay), that all he really wants right now is some sort of companionship, male or female. Says that he is old enough to have had plenty of sex during his life. Okay, we were a little trashed....

He was with Str8girls skater boi fuck buddy - hot hot hot boi lol.

So last night, actually got hard thinking about kissing this guy, telling him everything is going to be alright. And that is always my fn attraction.... the lost and lonely. It has gotten me into such shit all through my life. I want to swoop down and save the downtrodden. It's a hopeless cause though.

I guess, what struck a chord last night, was this guy telling me that I am an amazing guy, and the fact that I can so easily get people to open up to me, cos I am non-judegmental... And yet I feel insecure about so many things. Finances are crap at the moment, and it is an insecurity. The body getting on - insecurity. I feel like a fn pedo sometimes because I find 20yo's hot. I haven't had decent sex in too long....

Oh dear, it sounds pretty morbid, but I will be over it in a while. Older brother getting married for third time this weekend, so there is cause for some celebration. I feel shit because I am not talking to little brother, and he is in pain from coming off his brand new motorbike on Friday, and I haven't been to visit him. I think I will do that tomorrow. Mother told me this morning he is behind with his work because he can't sit for long in front of the PC. But since we compete for business in a way, I am not prepared to help him because of a few work related incidents over the last few months.

My family don't know how to deal with me lol. I mean, I went through this whole coming out to them a couple of years ago, and the only person who is fully supportive is my mother. The others offer lip service, but I know they associate being gay with promiscuity. Hey, I can be a horny fuck, but so not into the casual shit anymore.

I guess I also want a companion.

Thirds

Just a little background about W and Str8girl.

Almost three years ago, W and I met through GaydarChat. We met for coffee on a Monday morning before work. Two weeks later, he texted me on the way back from a party and we had amazing sex at my place. We fell asleep after, and at 2am he woke me up to tell me he is leaving. I asked why, and his response was that he couldn't spend the night. Accepted.

Two weeks later, similar circumstances, he came over, spent the night till 2, same reason given.

At some point after that, after l-o-o-o-t-s of online chatting, texting etc, I said to him that whether he feels the same or not, I have fallen for him, and just knowing that, is ok with me. I never expected any reciprocation.

About three weeks after that, I was out with a bi girl from high school days. W joined us, and bigirl somehow managed to convince him I was too drunk to drive home, and we should both spend the night at her place. Of course, (as was her plan), he said no, I should go home with him because he lived closer, because I had a long way to drive home.

After amazing sex, I said to him I should go home, because it's after 2am. Laughter, but I spent the night. We both overslept and were both late for appointments we had the following morning.

After that, it was clear that we had become too close for his liking, and we stopped talking to each other for about a year.

It is almost three years later, and in the interim, we have become the closest of friends. We see each other three or four times a week (he has bought a place that is really close to me). We text each other at least four or five times a day, and chat on MSN when we are both on. We have supported each other through big changes, fucked up relationships and job changes. When we are together, people assume we are a couple.

Str8girl and W share his apartment. They are old school friends. We are all really close. We tell people we are all married. Hence the term 'thirds'.

So girlthird met really cute boy on St paddy's. Today, W got news that he had new job and asked me to join for dinner to celebrate. Girlthird joined us, and cuteboi happened to be there. We drank, ate and had a good time. Girlthird, cuteboi, and recently divorced hot hot hot guy and I went upstairs to play some pool.....

So hot divorced guy was hitting on me lol. And he is a mechanic. And I saw an E-Type Jag today that is for sale at a very reasonable price... but it needs some tlc.

Is the universe trying to tell me something?

Ok, so I am pretty drunk right now, and if none of this makes sense, so be it.....

Some more beach pics...

As usual, any temptation to repost should be avoided...

Thanks

Sethy the photographer.

Welcome...

New follower Jay.... I love your camp stories :) Keep them coming.

The Real Journey Part One

Bare with me over the next few posts. One of the reasons I am here is because I feel I have a small mission to accomplish. I am not sure how to define it. At first, I thought it was meant only for younger people, as a way of offering advice through telling my own story. But as I read and discover more through you good bloggers of varying ages, I think that perhaps we can all learn something from each other, and from each others’ experiences. There appears to be a common thread among gay bloggers; that is that we often feel isolated and alone in our plight. And for some – like me- it is a real plight. I never chose to be gay. For most of my life, I wanted to just be straight and ‘normal’. Early on, I never understood what it was that was happening to me. I thought I was a freak of some sort. Homosexuality was only referred to in derogatory terms. Fag, Queer, Fruit. Someone to fear, to scorn – and basically deserving of death by stoning. Every homosexual was a pedophile out to hunt school boys.

And of course, my first real experience as a gay person, just happened to be with a pedophile, so it reinforced every negative aspect I had imagined or had been taught through peer interaction. Up until just a few years ago, I lived my life with this dark specter following me around. I was afraid that if it ever came out that I was gay, people would hide their children from me, I would lose all my friends and family. How wrong I was of course. I blamed every thing that had gone ‘wrong’ in my life on the pedophile that ‘tainted’ me.

It was not until the middle of last year, when I finally forgave him, and understood his own plight in life, that I began to fully understand how wonderful my own life is – and has been. I had just chosen to believe that I was damaged goods, and could never be ‘fixed’. I am still on that journey of that self discovery. I learn something new every day, about myself, and about the universe around me. I am not religious in a conventional sense, but I have strong convictions about what is right or wrong. I believe in Karma, and subscribe to the Christ message of love and forgiveness. I also believe very strongly that one cannot love effectively without first learning to love oneself. You cannot accept others fully, until you have accepted yourself. You create your own universe. The rules, I believe, are simple: Use your power to create carefully. If it involves hurting others, it is going to come back and bite you in the ass.

So over the next few posts, I am going to go back in time a little. Back to that first time with Trevor the pedophile. It is his real name, the only real name I will ever use here, it is the only way that I can tell this story without turning it into fiction.

And feel free to express anything on your mind while on this journey with me. Tell me if you think I am being judgmental in any way. Ask me for my email address if there is anything you would like to discuss with me outside of this forum. I love to interact and debate.

The journey continues…..

A good Sunday

So yesterday, Sethy invited some good friends over for a braai (a barbecue in otherspeak). I put a pork roast on the Weber, and also roasted some vegetables. My daughter and I made some warm salads; one with asparagus, cherry tomatoes and feta; and another with cous cous, red pepper and rocket.

Others brought salads, some nice breads, and their own alcohol. I sipped on champagne and orange juice....

W and Str8 girl came together, and my good friend Ian actually arrived too. My girls were with me for the weekend, and we had an amazing lazy afternoon, eating, drinking and talking shite.

After I dropped the girls, we all met at le irish pub regular for a few more drinks. A few turned into a few more, and str8 girl invited cuteboy1 to join. Well, then it all turned a little pear shaped. We went to another pub, then back to my place to eat some leftovers.

Str8 girl went home with cuteboy1 and notified me of some good nookie.... lol she is funny hehe... only cos she knows I would love to see him naked too. I will get a full report on the important bits later :)

So assesing damage this morning, only one plate was broken, an ashtray overturned on the carpet (not a major issue), and all of my lighters missing as usual (Ian). So now to do the dishes and vacuum the carpet, and take a nap....

I hate feeling so indifferent about everything though. I must have coffee with Farmboy this week. He is staying not far from me now, and is looking for work in my city. I met him online a long time ago, and we spent a week on Brother1's farm about two years ago. I have never had so much sex in such a short time, and in so many places. Even while making dinner in the kitchen....

But I feel indifferent about him now. And he is such a nice guy, and I know we can have amazing sex. But the indifference.... Hope it passes soon.

Oh, and how do I see how many hits I been getting? Is there a blogger tool that I am missing? I am a stats whore...

The journey continues...

So just to keep you interested

A beach near Cape Town called The Strand. Go there if you ever get the chance.

The next ones aren't Cape Town, but a famous resort town futher East where school leavers flock for the sun and amazing beach parties every December.

As always... these are my personal pics, so try to avoid the temptation to repost...

Sethy the photographer.

The journey continues......

My favourite news article of the day

Canberra - An Australian teenager wearing baggy trousers and no underwear was fined after his pants fell down just as a female police officer was walking past, a newspaper reported on Thursday.

Trent Joseph Wroe, 19, was fined $168, and ordered to wear a belt, after the February 28 incident in Mooloolaba in the northern Queensland state, the Sunshine Coast Daily newspaper reported.

Police told a Magistrate's Court that Wroe deliberately bared his buttocks, but Wroe said he was wearing a pair of borrowed pants which were too big and fell down in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He said he would apologise to the police officer, and promised to wear a belt and underwear in future.

- Reuters

Why doesn't this happen when I am around. omg, I miss the Gold Coast...

I did a bad thing last night

hmmm.. last night the girls were here, so they both are into their gmail accounts and facebook and stuff, so for me to get back into my reader, i had to log in again. When I clicked on the username box, it opens up a drop down to choose recent usernames. And that's when I saw Neville's name...

Neville was my single most disastrous decision I ever made. I will post seperatley about the whole story, but the short version is that in August 2007, I packed up everything and moved 1000km to live with him. The plan was wedding bells and happily ever afters... He is/was an architect so our combined skills (mine is in 3D design) made a good working partnership too.

But after two months, it was clear he had a VERY bad case of alcoholism in its purist form. The sickness kind, not the 'i love to party' kind.

Needless to say, at some point, I just said I am leaving, and packed everything up and left.

So... back to the bad thing I did. I clicked on his username, and the password had been saved, so it let me into his mail account. I sat for about an hour going through his mails. I am not sure why, but perhaps I wanted to see if he had chatted to friends about me leaving to see if he laid the blame on me. But it was all work stuff..... Some emails from my brother who he owes money to, but that's not new to me. Brother and I talk about it from time to time.

Just disappointed to hear from my brother that Nev basically fucked up his architectural business (days at a time binging on vodka) and is now working at a local art gallery.....

And from the mails I read, it doesnt sound like its going well there either. Landlord threatening eviction, all sorts of legal mails wanting money....

I did love him, and can't help feeling something still. And one good thing came out of it - it forced me to come out to my daughters. And it has been the most frightening, yet best thing I have done. We now can have Wentworth Miller conversations :)

Ah well, the journey continues. And we learn.

Welcome

Oh, and welcome to my first followers......

Ken - I will be sure to post some specifics for you
Col - I have always enjoyed your sensitive comments - especially on our younger blogers' posts
Deadwing - Hey, I am sure we will get to know each other as we travel on our journeys together.

Torchy! links to me as well... and thanks for the marketing.

Let me know if you are following through a reader or something so that I know you are there.

And feel free to ask me for my mail address through a comment (if its' not displayed - too tired to check now)

My girls sleep over at my place on Thursdays, so that always brightens my day. S is writing exams (Accounting tomorrow Gr9), and J is in Gr6. J got a Nintendo DS lite thingy for her birthday, so we were doing the Brain Train Dr foomanchu or whatever. Fun! haha!

I been in major depression over last few days - it catches me when I least expect it. I know the symptoms, and handle things accordingly, but its still pretty crap. It's more physiological though - low energy levels, little sleep, no apetite. But I meditate, and keep myself busy with mundane, easy-to-do-things until it passes. And it is passing already. I know what brought it on too.

On Tuesday, W and his flatmate A-str8-girl and I went to the local Irish theme pub to celebrate St Paddy's. Last yr, we were the ones dancing on the barrels, but alas, it was even busier this yr and there was no space to get onto any. We curbed our drinking to Guinesses only. omg there was candy. A-girl and I have the same taste in boys, so we are constantly prodding each other as countless new ones arrived.

W and I always have a game of making up names depending on how the bois look. He was drooling over a Darryl, while my eyes were on a Sven type. Tall Nordic blonde boy. A-girl's boy turned out to be an Earl haha. But at least she got lucky.....

Which led me where I ended up. The crushing, the the feeling of emptiness after. And Movie Boy's refusal to talk to me this week has left me feeling like I handled things badly - I have always assumed that I was nothing to him really. He plays games with me, but games we both understand. But it seems the game has taken on a more serious tone from his side. I don't really understand yet, but intend working on finding out, and making things right between us.

But yeah... time to sleep - have to be up early to get the girls to school.

A couple more from the beach series

As always... be steadfast and step away from the temptation to repost....

Beach Boys

As always, try avoid the temptation to repost..... these are my personal pics.

Thanks

Sethy the photographer

Mobile phones

I have a history with cellphones...

When they were launched here, I was working for company that became one of the first service providers in the country. So, I was one of the first to get a cell phone.... ooooooo!

My first phone was a Motorola 5200.It weighed a ton, had a pull out areal, and with the 'extended life' battery, I managed about 6 hrs total. That included about four phone calls during the day.

There were hardly any towers installed, so signal was restricted only a few pockets around town.

I have lost at least five. My favourite phone ever, given the technology at the time, has to be the Nokia 5110i, though the bricklike Nokia 2110 was a really amazing phone for its time. I left it in the rain, dropped it while on a motorbike on the freeway, and it just kept working.

I also like my N70, of which I had two. The first one I left on my car about a week after I got it, and the second went 'missing' at a club. Frodo Boy was giving me a lap dance with his shirt off, and we retreated to the bathrooms.... :)

I lost my last phone under similar circustances las Saturday. Drunk, and trying to get Movie Boy to come home with me...

Anyway, I am shopping for a new one now, and have my eyes on the Samsung Omnia. It has a built in GPS - which I was going to spoil myself with next month anyway (2 birds with one stone), and I love the I-phone look. I-phone only has 3G capability (weird), while the Omnia is HSDPA ready - something that is important to me.

So what phone do you have? Comment and let me know.

So I moved to Blogger

Okay, so I have moved from Wordpress to Blogger.... Mainly because most of the blogs I follow are here and not on Wordpress. It makes it easier to see who's following who as well.

If you are new to my blog, take the time to read previous entries. I have tried to keep them in chrono order, though all my memory stuff entries are the most recent ones.

I will be adding the blogs I follow as I get the time......

Even though I have been a regular LiveJournal user for some years now, I decided to start this blog as a seperate project under a little more anonimity. My LJ is specifically for day to day stuff, and remains within a close trusted group of fellow LJ'ers. I am a FaceBook junkie, but it is a primary contact tool with close friends, old friends, schoolfriends and family.

After lurking and following a few blogs, notably Josh, Torchy and Mirrorboy among others (I will be building a list of blogs I follow over the next few days on the sidebar as I get used to using this, I felt compelled to share some of my own stuff.

What really cemented this resolve, was reading some of Grasp The Nettle's interviews - especially Bob's . It made me want to share some of my own earlier and current experiences in the hope that by sharing, it can dilute fears and anxiety for others. I have been through the depression, teenage angst and suicidal thoughts and feel I am right now in a place I should have been many years ago - happy with who I am most of the time. I don't have all the answers, and don't profess to be doing the right thing all of the time.

For the most part, I love my life, but still feel different enough to sometimes be anxious about it.

I am by no means perfect either: I am rotten at relationships; useless at commanding a full time career; hopelessy procrastinationary; and I often abuse my body by smoking too much and enjoying a few too many drinks with my amazing friends.

But.... I consider myself to be a really good (mostly part-time) parent (more about that as we go..); a considerate lover; a loyal friend; a loving relative to a large family. I hope these things will come out the right way as I write.

This blog will help me to remember and document my struggle to come to terms with who I am now. The struggle continues in some ways, but I have come a very long way to be here.

The journey continues.....

My First Boyfriend

He was the boy in the one corner bed in our dormitory of eighteen. Quiet, diligent, neat, not part of the rest of us hooligans for the most part. We were all thirteen, or nearly so.

From 7 till 9 each evening was study time - or ‘prep’ as it was called. Most students were banished to the ‘prep room’ during this period. However, if you maintained first class grades, you were trusted to study in your dorm. So Aiden, Adrian and I studied in the dorm together. Adrian was a dickhead. So Aiden and I spent a lot of time giving him a hard time. So that’s how we became friends. We had a common cause. And I began to fall slowly in love with him. I didn’t realize it at first. I wasn’t really out to myself yet.

In the tenth grade, we kissed. It was my fifteenth birthday. From then on, we spent every moment we could touching each other, kissing. It was a time of madness actually. I was dating the future (female) prom queen. It was like having a mad affair. I spent several weekends at his house. The kisses were addictive, for both of us. The actual sex wasn’t amazing though. I have always taken long to cum, and he was a premature ejaculator. We did eventually work out a system where I couldn’t touch him until I was about to cum myself. So we spent a lot of time in foreplay. Sometimes hours. He lived on the edge of a forest. The soft needle bed of pine trees was our lovemaking nest. No disturbances, quiet except for the whisper of the wind through the trees. But I had to cum first or be perfectly timed to cum together. After he was finished, the guilt descended, and he would spend hours in silence.

So this pretty much went on for about a year and a half. In the 11th grade, we were seperated into different hostels, and it became more difficult to maintain the contact we had. I was having shit on other fronts, so weekends were no longer my own.

The prom queen broke it off with me, basically because I wouldn’t go beyond first base. And within a week, Aiden wrote me to tell me he no longer wanted to see me, as it was wrong, and he’s not a ‘homo’. I was devastated.

I traced his email address through a mutual friend about 3 years ago and mailed him a ‘hi’. We swopped about three non-comittal mails about two paragraphs each, and I have never from him again. He lives in the UK now, and runs a small vet practice with his vet wife and vet kids… or something.

Was just thinking how complicated life is. I mean this stuff seems like an isolated incident, but it was so interwoven with a million other things happening at the same time. I tried to commit suicide around this time, but not because he broke up with, or because of prom queen. It was a confluence of so many things, including Aiden and the Prom queen.

The reason I posted this today was because I found an old photo of the two of us. Kinda old school self portrait thing. I worked in a photo lab hehe, so I could print stuff like that. No digital back then. We were showing our cocks lol. Seems nothing much has changed over the last decade(s) or so.

And no… I don’t think I will be posting it. Call me old fashioned. And I have kids who have access to the net…. and so does he.

And that’s a valid point. If you are posting self pics now…. who knows how long they will be lingering through the ethernet to be found one day by kids, nephews, nieces… scary.

Would actually like to hear comments about that one…

You want me to put it where?

I started writing in the third person about my life experiences a few years ago, using a fictional character called Paul to represent me. It has been a revelation for me, because there are huge chunks of my life that I seem to have blocked out. By writing in the third person, I have found that memories return easier, and there is a flow.

It seems strange to me now that my first real sexual experiences was with a girl. As far as I can remember, when we started experimenting together, I had just started experimenting with masturbation, and can’t quite remember if I had even reached orgasm. Though by the end of that year - I was in 7th grade or twelve years old - I was achieving mostly blank orgasms on my own, but it wasn’t happening with the girl until the last time we were together.

I actually saw her again for the first time since I was fifteen only two years ago. I was involved in making a movie, and she happened to be cast as an extra. She is still gut wrenchingly beautiful (for her age), and sadly her entire feature in the final cut of the film was her behind for about 3 milliseconds as she placed drinks on a table in a restaurant scene.

Enjoy..

The first experiment with the girl was a disaster in adult terms. First of all, it was all quite a revelation that the reason he had a penis in the first place was to insert it into her vagina - who would have imagined? It was clearly a fun pastime, as the many participants in the magazine were very obviously enjoying themselves. After discussing her limited knowledge of sex for several minutes, she insisted on putting his penis into her mouth, to ensure a good erection she assured. Although he had no doubt he already had a good erection, who was he to argue? And somewhat perplexed, he watched as she put her mouth around the organ through which he regularly urinated.

Unaccustomed to physical contact with girls in the first place, the fact that their naked bodies had to be almost completely wrapped around each other before penetration was comfortable for either of them, was disconcerting in the first place. And not realizing that thrusting was required, it really was an awkward time for both of them. There was obviously no orgasm for either of them. And her insistence on kissing was not helping. The kissing was simply an act of putting one’s lips together, and provided no source of pleasure whatsoever. However, during the course of the year following, many such sessions developed their skills somewhat, and finally the day came for them both to orgasm.

It was at his house. Paul’s older brother was away at boarding school, and his little brother was with their grandmother, shopping for new jeans. The memory for him would remain vivid for the rest of his life.

What remained fixed in his memory of that day was the sound of the fish tank pump. Humming away, oblivious of the insidious deed that was taking place in its presence. They had been experimenting with other positions. His penis had mysteriously doubled in size since there first encounter almost a year previous. This had allowed more latitude than the earlier days. First they stood, then they tried doggy style. Finally, she being frustrated that he was not deep enough, requested him to lie on his back. She straddled him, facing his feet, and soon was involved in her own world, using his penis more as a tool for masturbation than anything else. Watching her from behind, he became detached from the act of sex, and imagined himself masturbating himself. Sooner than he thought, he was on the edge of climax. If he was indeed controlling events, he would have stopped then, allowing time to further savor the period before the orgasm. In fact, his habit had become to stop, allow himself to become completely flaccid, and start again. This method could allow him to masturbate for more than an hour at a time, sometimes two. But that was when he was in control. And she was thrusting harder now. He watched as she lifted her buttocks up and down, up and down. He tried to practice his multiplication tables in his head, but it was no good. He opened his eyes just as she reached and touched his stomach. It was no good. His stomach contracted, and he almost did a full sit up. Grabbing her hips, he closed his eyes and felt himself swelling and pumping inside her. She let out a small sound, which he later decided was a symptom of her own orgasm. Embarrassed by the whole thing, he lay back and endured another torturous two or three minutes, before she lifted herself off him. The small kiss that followed was the first that he could remember that honestly felt like a kiss that had caused his stomach to jump slightly. It was a kiss of gratitude, of appreciation, almost of love.

There was never another time after that. It was school holidays after that, the last before he went off to boarding school. Spending time with friends was infinitely more rewarding.