I used to go to surfin'at Torquay or Jan Juc or Bell's Beach with my flatmate. To severalise the truth, Gazza was to a greater extent than my flatmate. I was in lovemaking with him. He wasn't in love with me though. Oh, he liked havin'me around. And when he didn't have a girlfriend over he was happy enough to bonk me. Sometimes when he did he'd even call out my name as he emptied himself into me. But when he'd picked up some chick at a bar he wouldn't even speak to me when he got home with her. Too afraid of what his women would think about his ‘ flatmate ’, I reckon.

We would go down from the city on Friday evenin's, and head teacher back on Sunday afternoons, and we'd find a place to crash in one of the van parks or on the beach if it was the end of the month and we were short. I loved goin'with him. He treated me like diddly-shit, but it beat stayin'at home on my tod. The surfin'almost made up for everythin ’. I'd go out and for a while I had no problems, no trouble. Just the sea, and the air, paddlin'hard to overhear a good jailbreak, then the magic of the glide along the face of the Wave, the sea park and whiten around you, the board slicin'through the water, crestin'the water system, makin'you feel as if you were flyin ’.

When I got run down I would strip off my wetsuit - the water supply was almost always freezin ’, but often the sun was too warm on the thickly disgraceful neoprene - and lie around on my towel enjoyin'the scenery. Some blokes wear board shorts to surfboard in, but that's in places where the water's warm. Where it's frigidness, you need a wetsuit, and plug-in shorts are a painfulness underneath a wetsuit, they get all crumpled up and itch and annoy. So we used to wear speedos. I had a couple, but my pet were sapphire, because they made my tan tone better and matched my middle and my blond hair's-breadth. I liked the way they showed off my bum and my doings. The day I met Mattie, I was wearin'the sapphire pair.

I noticed this guy sittin'by himself on the Baroness Dudevant, a couple of metres away. I'd been surfin'since before dawn, when the sea is glassy and crystalise. It had turned into a sodding day, the air tender, but not too hot, like it can get here sometimes in summertime, and just a deliquium sea breeze. I stripped off my wetsuit and lay down on my towel. I look at hombre as well as chick, but I try not to let the blighter see I'm doin'it. I suppose you'd say I was bi, but the truth is that I loved Gazza and I thought that if I ever got someone else, I'd rather get a bloke than a woman. I didn't want to get marry and settle down. And though I loved adult female and fuckin'adult female - that present moment when you slide into a wet pussy has to be one of the best around - I didn't want duty and all that stuff and nonsense. I know. You can think what you like of me. And you'd have the live on joke, because in the end I did get married, and it was pretty good. It was fuckin'fantastic. You just hafta find the right person.

Mattie was a looker, in both senses. He was amazin'ly handsome, with thick curly chocolate-brown hair bleached tan at the close by salt and sun, picket blue center, a true, thinly aristocratical nose, the kind of mentum which still looks good even when you get jowls, a dancer's neck column, shoulders like Superman, and pectoralis to fit. He was wearin'White nylon rugby football shorts with short stage, the kind which let me see just how good his peg were - thighs firm and muscular, sprinkled with dark hair, calves sweetly curved, and gracious base. Laugh if you like, but I like good feet. He was a looker in the other way too. He looked at me, then away, then eyed some chick walkin'along in the sun, then looked back. I nodded when he looked the tertiary time.

"G'day."he said. His voice was a bit deep, a bit gruff and it kinda did affair to my breadbasket. Gazza had fucked off somewhere like he did and I was on my own. Why not ? I thought, I'm not married to Gazza. So I said"G'day"back.

"beaut day, huh ?"

"Yeah."

"You from rung here ?"

"Nah. The urban center. A flat in Carlton."For some reason I didn't reference my ‘ flatmate ’.

"Yeah I live in the city, mostly. You down just for the day, mate ?"

"Weekend."

"Is there anythin'on tonight ? Ya know, like a party ?"

"Usually somethin ’. We'll ask around later."

"Yeah, good. My name's Mattie."

"James."

Mattie stood up, walked towards me, and reached out his hand. I sat up and shook it, lookin'up at him. His face was shadowed. I couldn't see his expression, just the newsflash of his white teeth against tanned skin. He picked up his towel and put it closer to mine. Not too close, but close enough. I took another glimpse at his body. I started to get a fatty. Man. I didn't even recognise if he was interested and already I was thinkin'opinion. I couldn't aid it. He was a beaut bloke.

We talked some more, just full general chat.

It was hot, lyin'still in the sun."I'm cookin ’,"said Mattie, leverin'himself up from his towel."I'm goin'in for a quickie."

"A quicky, huh ?"I replied."I'll come with you."

He gave me a sharp facial expression then laughed."Puns are us, huh ?"

Damn. Mustn't make risqué jokes.

The water supply was chilly. We dived into the first big Wave comin'in and it was all blue air and commons and icy after the oestrus on the beach.

Mattie yelped and laughed."Fuck ! It's freezin'!"

"Man, you are such a wuss !"

Mattie leapt on me and we both fell into the water supply. I swallowed some water and coughed."I'll get you for that, dude !"We horsed around for maybe ten moment but it got too cold. As we went back to the shoring, Mattie was a bit ahead of me. Through the wet nylon of his rugby boxershorts I could see the shape of his speedos, blue and white vertical stripes, carefully cuddlin'and shapin'his bum. I started to get hard again. Luckily the pee was so cold no one could see.

We lay a bit more in the sun then I suggested we get lunch. There was a caravan parked in a bay off the beach road sellin'hot hotdog and chip, and we walked over to it. Every meter along the way I was conscious of his body, of the slight springiness in his whole tone as he walked, of his thigh muscles clenchin'and relaxin ’. There was a dilute trickle of perspiration either incline of his spine in the dip between the swell of his back muscles. I wanted to lick it, to follow it down his pricker to his butt, to observe goin'until I reached the sweet cleft of his hind end and the yap within.

I must have looked a bit dazzle."You OK, mate ?"he asked, worried. When I took a moment or two to answer, he asked again,"William James ? Anythin'wrong ?"

"Nah. No worries, Mattie."He'd remembered my name ! Gazza had forgotten it when he and I first met. Even after the endorsement or third screwing he still hadn't remembered. I was pretty happy Mattie had remembered. It felt thoroughly. It felt like he cared. Then a warnin'vocalism in my chief said don't crepuscule for him, he's straight.

We sat on the low Harlan Stone wall facin'the beach and ate our hot Canis familiaris and chips and coke. We shared the packet boat of chips. It was kinda confidant takin'stuff from the Sami composition trough he was eatin'out of. Every so often I would pussyfoot a look at the boxershorts, at the protrusion held in by the shiny nylon. Now that I knew it was there, I could see the amobarbital sodium banding of his Aussiebum through the Edward Douglas White Jr. material. His breadbasket was so flavourless that when he sat he had only a few thin folds. I had to look away and quickly rearrange myself. There's no well-off way to obscure a fatty in a couplet of speedos. I put my elbow on my stifle and leaned forward.

"When're ya goin'back to the city ?"I asked.

"Sunday."

"Where're ya stayin'?"

"I got a home on the road to Geelong."

"A sign ? A whole fuckin'sign ?"

"It's no biggie,"he replied, lookin'uncomfortable.

I wanted to tease him a bit, get back at him for wantin'to fuck him and not bein'capable to.

"No ? But you have a flat in Carlton, too ?"

"Yeah. I only rent the flat."

"So what's with the house ?"

"I inherited it from my granda ’. It's nothin'special. Just an old house."

"Cool."I thought for a bit. Gazza was prolly gone for the day. Who knew when the fuck he'd be back ? Once he'd gone back to the city without me. I had to hitch to Geelong and catch the train from there and I only got home at ten at Night. When I complained he said,"Don't be such a fuckin'princess."But in bed he'd made love to me, and afterwards he cuddled me which he didn't usually do, and it was OK."Can I add up and see your house ? I've had a lot of sun, I should prolly get out of the sun for a bit."If I had any ulterior motive, well, I wasn't lettin'on, even to myself. posterior motive. Sounds like an expensive cupboard or a solid food processor. Italian. Enjoy the luxurious new Ulteriore Motivo.

"Yeah. Let's go get our appurtenance. You c'n follow in your car."

"I don't have one. I mean… I came down with a friend."

He looked at me inquirin'ly.

"My flatmate."

"Where is he ? Would he care to come too ?"

"Nah. He's gone off somewhere."

Somethin'in my tone must have alerted him to my existent feelin's, because he looked at me for a min, his facial expression blank. Then he gave me a unfermented smile and said,"C'mon then. Let's go."

He didn't have a surfboard rack on his car but it didn't matter. It was an old Kingswood station beach wagon, rusted and a bit worn and tatty, but big, so we put the board in the back. We didn't hassle to get changed. I only had my wetsuit, and some shorts and a t-shirt in my backpack. You're not supposed to drive in thong or without a shirt but Mattie did anyway.

The house was an Edwardian wooden bungalow, with panel which were once white but which were all peelin'now, and Windsor-green door and windowpane skeletal frame and veranda posts. The garden was full of ancient cedars and a duet of oak Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree and creeper and the audio of peacenik. It was so cool off and prissy. I envied him this place. My flat was fuckin'horrible. Inside the sign, it was filled with nineteen-fifties piece of furniture and decoration but the sofas and armchairs were comfortable. It felt warm and favorable. It reminded me of my grandparents'theater. I'd been happy there.

"Were you close to your granda ?"I asked.

"Yeah. He was a top chap. He taught me how to play footy and how to do a lot of stuff. I miss him."Mattie's fount was suddenly a bit drawn."He's been all in a year, and I still think of him."

"Yeah. It's punishing when you love someone."We were tranquility for a moment."You said you live in the city."

"Yeah. I'm thinkin'of movin'out here. But I'd be lonely. So I haven't. But I come down to float when I can."

"Can you get a job down here ?"

"Yeah. I reckon. I'm a ‘ lectrician."

"I'm a carpenter. I'd like to endure troll here. I could surf every day. Can you surf ?"

"Nah."Mattie smiled a little, not in a ranking way, just kinda relaxed, easy.

"I can teach you,"I said.

He looked at me for a secondly. You know that feelin'where you sense somethin'magical is about to happen, where time seems suspended, where the air is so still you hear your own breathin'? Well that's what happened compensate then. We just looked into each former's eye and it was like the fuckin'Sung. Magic.

"Cool."He didn't need to say any more.

"Hey,"I said."Maybe you need someone to live here with you. So you're not so alone."

"Yeah,"he said. He smiled. Fuck, my centre turned top side down.

Then I felt stupid. What the fuck was I sayin'this shit for ? He was straight. And anyway, no one was interested in me. Jeez. But for the first time in calendar month I wasn't thinkin'of Gazza. It felt well, even if fuck all happened with Matt.

"I'm hungry,"said Mattie."Lunch wasn't that much."

I nodded. We had Vegemite toast and tea. And a beer. Then he rolled a joint and we smoked it. Each drag I took I could feel his spit on the joint. It was good.

We were still in our beach gear, me in my Speedos, him in his striped Aussiebums under the white boxershorts. Weed did what it always does to me. It made me randy. I wanted him so much. I wanted to hump him mystifying and severe and long. I wanted him in me. I wanted to taste every part of his body, to slide my natural language into every crevice and cleft, every-fuckin'-where. I wanted to kiss him, to mash my lips against his, to slip my lingua as far as it would go down his throat. I got up quickly. Fuck ! What was I thinkin'? I had a huge fuckin'butterball under the stretchy juicy lycra of my Speedos.

"Where's the dunny, match ?"

"At the end of the corridor."He was watchin'me.

I hauled my cock out, fat with desire, and tried to pee. It took a spell. I was tempted to suffer a quick wank, get rid of some of the tension, but I knew Mattie might notice somethin ’. As I walked out of the lavatory, I saw through the open door a chamber with a big two-baser bed in it, with an old fashioned cupboard and sideboard and mirror and I was suddenly filled with sorrow and longin ’. I imagined myself in bed on a Billy Sunday mornin ’, havin'coffee and goner with someone ( and the range of a function of Mattie crept uninvited into my mind ), readin'the William Ashley Sunday papers and then makin'love in the bum, of comin'household from work at five o'clock and hearin'the sound of the kettle which someone had just put on, of evenin's together with a DVD and sixpack of beers and takeaway pizza and my capitulum on his lap. I sure as screwing wasn't gon na get that with Gazza. I wanted to fuckin'bawl.

Mattie took one expression at my face and asked,"Everythin'OK, Jamie ?"

The ‘ Jamie'was too often. My brother had called me Jamie, my supporter. It seemed so intimate and lovin'and I choked on my reply, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.

"Hey, man,"matte said, gettin'up from his armchair.

"No !"I cried, puttin'my hands up in a wardin'gesture."No… I'll be OK in a minute."I sat for a bit, waitin'for my fondness to stop beatin ’, tryin'to get back my equilibrium."Sorry,"I said at last.

"No worries"he said. There was a long muteness. fly front buzzin'against the glass, the tick of an old grandfather clock."Ya wan na talk of the town about it ?"

"I just… I dunno. I just want somebody, ya know ? Some guys just want a theme but I want somebody to come menage to."

"Ya friend ?"

"My flatmate."I poured all the disdain I could into the word."He likes fuckin'me. But he doesn't love me. I don'want that. I want to be…"

"Yeah,"he said quietly, his eyes on me."Yeah."

I realised too recent that I'd let him know I was havin'sex with a lad. Maybe it was the grass, I dunno, but I just knew I had to get away. I stood up abruptly."I got ta go"I said, warmheartedness poundin ’.

I started to move towards the door. I opened it, fumblin ’. I'd hang-up back to the beach. Guys were always hitchin'here, people were used to surfboards and surfboarder. I heard Mattie call me,"Jamie, hold. C'mon, please ! Jamie !"but I kept on walkin ’. Suddenly I was rugby-tackled from behind and went straight down onto the lawn. Then Mattie turned my fountainhead to one side and was kissin'me heavily, his tongue in my rima oris, clever and strong and pressing, his consistence big and firm and impregnable on mine. There was no noise, just our pantin ’, the strait of the road a hundred time away, the thud of our hearts. His hand reached own to the seat of my Speedo, and pulled it down. I felt him crusade down his own boxers and Aussiebums. I heard him spit out into his hand, then his hired hand reached down to my cleft and I felt his fingerbreadth slide into me and then the spit was rubbed onto my hole. He hitched his short pants and swim briefs lower and I felt the wet rock-hard headway of his cock pressin'against me.

He started kissin'me frantically again and pushed in and jeez. It was kinda brutal. Not sore. Just… It was brilliant. It was fuckin'heaven. He started thrustin ’, never stoppin'kissin'me. My head was still turned sideways. His mouth was on mine. He was Makin'lilliputian stochasticity of lust and love. I was gettin'a Crick in my neck. I didn't guardianship. It was so good. So passionate. He needed me. He wanted me. Gazza had never needed me. When he was turned on, yeah. But the raw substantial emotion ? Nah.

Didn't conclusion long.

I felt him come into me. He gave a little suspiration. Then he turned us both onto our English. He stayed inside me. That's well-off if you do it with spitting as lube. He spat on his bridge player again and took my pecker and did me courteous and dumb. I felt him pop to get hard inside me and I pushed back against him and he started to thrust into me again and this prison term it was even honest than the first. I came into his hand and he took my jizz and licked it up.

We lay together, our speedos attack our ankles. His arms held me close like he already loved me.

"I wanted to do that since I saw you on the beach. You are so fuckin'hot."

"Me ? Jeez, Mattie, you are a fuckin'dream."

"Nah."He was strokin'my stomach, my arms, my thighs, my bum, every function of me, like I was somethin'precious."Nah. You are."

Man. On the lawn. If somebody came up to the house they'd see us there, all sweaty and covered with jizz, our fuckin'gear off.

Mattie kissed the back of my neck."Ya still gon na instruct me to surf ?"

"Yeah. Sure. Long as ya wear those plunder speedos and those shorts."

I could hear the smiling in his voice, the fuckin'charmer."Always,"he said.

He even wore them at our marriage, under his mornin'suit of clothes. And I wore my sapphire Speedos. He looked so fuckin'fuckable in his starched shirt and striped jacket and bow tie, especially since I knew what he had on underneath. It was all I could do not to sweep up him to the dunny at the receipt and fuck him silly. But I waited till the motel. I'm a married man now. I got ta behave .