My Macho Video Blog

I walked into the shower, casual as could be, and turned on the shower closest to the entrance. I was foolish to think I would be safer closer to the door but that’s the one I took. But the shower didn’t work. I tried another and another, till I found one near the back that brought forth a spray of warm water. Justin was there, under a shower on the opposite side, and I almost left. But it would have been too obvious, and when I gave a furtive glance in his direction, trying not to look at his magnificent, muscular body, but looking anyway, I stayed. I adjusted the temperature and stood with my back to him, my head tilted up into the spray. I soaked up the warmth for several minutes then punched the soap dispenser. It was empty. I reached over to the next dispenser and punched it, but it was empty too and I swore under my breath. I heard the rapid punching of Justin’s dispenser behind me.

“Here, I tried ‘em all, and they’re all empty except mine,” he said, his voice suddenly closer behind me. “Gonna have to get on Billie’s ass about that.”

I knew how he and the other guys would do that. Billie was the towel boy; that’s what they called him. He was the coach’s assistant. He laundered the towels and whatever else he found laying around the locker room, and cleaned the place and kept the soap dispensers filled, or was supposed to. I thought they abused Billie but he didn’t seem to mind all the indignities they heaped on him. He worshipped the hunky athletes, and reveled in their attention; in a way, much the same as I did. I turned to find Justin standing close, holding out his cupped hands full of liquid soap. I put my hands out for the soap but much to my surprise he put his hands up and dumped it on my chest and quickly rubbed it over my chest before it all ran down. Read the rest of this entry »

It was a beautiful Friday and I had spent the entire morning at the beach. It was just after midday when I decided I’d had enough. I covered my naked body with shorts and a t-shirt and strolled off the quiet and secluded beach. I had reached my car and entered it and it was at that moment when I turned and looked at the white sand and blue water and I sighed from the knowledge that autumn and winter would soon be here. Fuck I hated the cold months and the fact that my days in the sun on the beach were halted.

It additionally occurred to me that I only had the weekend before my holidays were over, forcing me to return to work. I detested my job. Working in an office was the most boring thing anyone could do and I had stupidly chosen to do exactly that. I fantasised all the time about working in the Botanical Gardens or some place where I would be outdoors and in the fresh air. Anywhere that didn’t involve elevators, windows, files, computers and air conditioning.

I shook my head with resignation and started the engine. I drove away from my sanctuary with reluctance and headed for home. I had decided I was going to make the most of the next two and a half days. It would be complete relaxation and any fucking thing I wanted to do.

As I drove through the familiar old streets, I was amazed that even though there was a lot that was familiar, it was incredible how much had changed. I suppose that’s modern society for you. Irrespective, I love Sydney. It was where I was born, it was where I grew up, went to school, had some great friends and it was where I found out exactly who I was.

I had moved to Melbourne for several years, all for the sake of a relationship. If I had of known the consequences of that choice, I never would have left. Not that it had anything to do with Melbourne; it’s actually quite a nice city and the people are equally as nice there as they are here. I’m not one of those morons who fall into the pathetic crap of Sydney versus Melbourne. It is so ridiculous. We’re the same nationality in the same country for fucks sake! It’s exactly like Americans with New York versus Los Angeles. Why do people waste their time on such pointless irrelevancies? It truly astounds me. Irrespective of that diversion, it was my partner of choice that had been the problem but thank god that shit is over and I’m back home in my beautiful, beloved Sydney. Read the rest of this entry »

Closing Time

I saw the car pull in and I laid down the broom before he ran over the hose to make the harsh clanging of the bell. I glanced at the clock; it was a half hour to closing. The window went down as I approached the car.

“Fill ‘er up?” I asked. We were one of the last full-service gas stations in town.

“Yes, please. High octane,” he said.

I started the pump then went up to wash the windshield. When I was done I went back to his side of the car.

“You wanta pop the hood?” I asked. There wasn’t much to check under the hood anymore, like the battery and radiator, but I checked his transmission and brake fluid and added windshield washer to the tank. While I was doing that, something else caught my eye.

“Sir, you’ve got a badly worn fan belt you need to come take a look at,” I told him. He climbed out of the car and came to peer under the hood. I tugged on the worn fan belt. “It could cause a real problem if it breaks,” I told him.

“Oh, my. Can you replace it?”

“Yes, sir, but I wanted you to take a look at it so you wouldn’t think I was trying to sell you a bill of goods,” I said.

“Well, I don’t think you would do that,” he said.

“I wouldn’t. But I wanted you know that.” I looked at the clock. “I’ll pull your car in then finish sweeping up, then I can get to work on it after I close up, without being interrupted.”

“Oh, I hate to keep you past closing,” the man said.

“That’s no problem. It shouldn’t take long. Anyway, I don’t have any plans tonight,” I said.

I pulled the car into the first bay and put the overhead door down. I got a fan belt out of the storage room then went back to finish sweeping the front.

“I can’t believe a young man like you doesn’t have plans for after work,” he said. Read the rest of this entry »