Western Australia Memories

This story is loosely based on some real experiences I had in Western Australia in the period 1977 to 1981. I say 'loosely' because time has blurred my memory, but it's essentially all true though the chronology may be a bit out of order.

In late 1977 I moved from rural North Queensland to Perth in Western Australia. Its a very isolated place, thousands of kilometres from any other large city. At the time Perth only had about a million people, but that made it ten times bigger than the town I had previously lived in.

I had only come out as gay a couple of years earlier and had my first sexual experience at the age of twenty-eight. Bit of a slow learner, huh?

Perth however gave me plenty of opportunity to play "catchup". I lived for a while in South Perth, not far from the golf course on LaBouchere Road and was tipped off by a friend that it was often "busy" at night. So I started checking it out. There was a toilet block that was popular, but also along that end of the golf course there was an avenue of trees with a closed end that provided privacy.

I always walked down to the golf course rather than drive the kilometre or so from my flat, as I was worried that if the cops raided then they would block off the car park exit. Remember, at the time you could get fourteen years in prison for male-male sex.

On one of my first nights there, I walked up to the golf course and there was one guy in his thirties hanging around outside. I checked inside where the only light was some moonlight coming through a high grated window. I don't know if there was supposed to be proper lighting there, maybe people removed the globes deliberately.

There was only one guy inside, standing at the urinal. He appeared to be about twenty, blond, and I reached over and felt his cock which was half hard. I leaned down and slid my mouth over his sex and began to suck. He seemed tense, even reluctant, but his cock was hardening nicely.

I straightened up and took him by the shoulders and said, "Turn around so I can suck you properly," and he obeyed. I leaned back down and resumed sucking his beautiful sex tool, and dropped my own shorts and began stroking my seven inches.

As I made love to his hot piece of meat with my mouth, the guy who had been outside came in and moved up behind me. He fingered my hole and a moment later he was coupled into me and began fucking me. I was totally turned on by having a dick in each end of me, there's something about three-ways that I just love.

Eventually the stud humping me shot his load and left. I was engrossed in sucking my blond hottie, and I sank down to my knees to deep-throat him.

He immediately clamped me in a strong headlock and began fucking my face. I'd never experienced this before and struggled to get my breath, but after a short while I smelled his semen as he ejaculated into my throat. A few seconds later he released my head, leaned down, and said "Thank you" before walking away.

I'm pretty sure this was the first time I had been "spit-roasted" and the recollection of it gets me feeling horny even now.

After that great experience I visited the golf course regularly.

One summer night I headed down to the little toilet block there and damn, it was full. Guys cruising each other, and group action, it was crazily crowded in that little building.

So I decided to slip onto the Ladies loo next door and there were already a few men hanging around in there so I ran my hand over the shorts of one of the older guys and felt a really big cock through the thin fabric.

He slid the shorts down and I knelt and took his big cock-head in my mouth and started sucking. I was really in a slut mood that night and went to town on his tool, taking it as far down my throat as I could manage.

After a little while he hauled me up from my knees and told me he wanted to fuck me. No sooner said then done, I let him slid his cock into my rear end and we started rutting.

He pumped me for some time then told me, "I'm about to cum" and I backed hard against him to let him know I wanted it. He moaned and grunted as he unloaded in me and I whacked off a load myself.

He stayed inside me for a while, then told me he'd like to have me again soon, in his bed. I said I was up for more sex with him any time, and he handed me a scrap of paper which I couldn't read in the near-dark, but he told me to ring the number during the next week and he'd pick me up and take me home for a long session of fucking.

I pocketed the scrap of paper and told him, "You're on a promise, I want that cock in me again soon," and I left to walk back to my flat.

Some days afterwards I did phone him. Can't remember his name now but he lived on a semi-rural property just out of town, and he invited me to stay the weekend with him there.

He certainly lived up to the promise of plenty of sex. He was about ten years older than me and was sexually dominant, and as a relative newcomer to gay sex I reveled in it.

The thing I remember most is that his bathroom was huge and there was a full-height window overlooking the countryside, no curtains or blinds. I've always wanted a bathroom like that but alas it was never to be.

On another night, cruising the avenue of trees on the golf course, I hooked up with a hot man who was in the air-force. He fucked me as I lay face-down on the leaf litter and pine needles. After he unloaded in me, he told me, "I can come again in a little while if you want," and I told him he could stay in me because I wanted more of his spunk. Sure enough, he stayed hard in me and before long he started screwing me again and eventually popped off another load. I've always wished I could do the same!

The good thing about my first nine months in Perth was that I wasn't studying or working full-time so I had plenty of time to play. I was introduced to the nude beach at Swanbourne, on Commonwealth land adjacent to the army barracks. There was a surf life-saving club and patrolled beach adjacent to it but hardly anyone used the patrolled beach, most people used the nude beach.

The local council had no authority to patrol the nude beach, and some weekends there would be hundreds of people there, almost all nude. Young and old, female and male, all swimming or sun-bathing, and enjoying the freedom of nudity. There seemed to be a regular volleyball game there, players all bare-arsed, boobs and cocks slapping around as they played.

I soon found that on a quiet weekday there would be a few guys wandering around the sand-dunes at the back of the beach, and on at least one occasion I got my arse screwed lying on a towel in the dunes. Sure it was a bit inappropriate fucking in public in daytime, but hey there were no kids around, they'd be at school.

I really loved having sex outdoors with a hot-looking stranger, even better if a third guy joined us and fed me his cock while my rear was getting drilled.

I guess I was lucky not to catch anything serious, having so much unprotected sex. Nowadays, leaving aside HIV, the risk of getting an untreatable strain of gonorrhoea really worries me.

Late in 1978 I got a job as a clerk in the public service right in the middle of Perth, which paid the bills even though it was pretty unsatisfying. I liked the young woman who worked beside me, she knew I was gay, and we both were interested in a red-headed young guy in the same office.

I was feeling horny and frustrated one day at work, so I took a long lunch-break and headed to the gay sauna that used to be in Northbridge, just a short walk away. It was quiet at the sauna but I scored and had a satisfying fucking. When I got back to the office I must have had a smirk on my face a mile wide, and my female friend guessed that I'd had some fun.

Much later in the year we were talking and I asked her if she'd got anywhere with the redhead. Her reply suggested that he was much less interesting in bed than anything I had fantasised about, and so I lost interest in him.

During that time I was involved in a Gay Liberation group, and had appeared in a TV interview, so anyone at the office who had eyes in their head would know who I was. A day after the TV interview, as I got into a crowded elevator in my workplace, I heard someone behind me whisper "That's the one". You could be a kind of celebrity pretty easily then.

I was never someone who felt at ease going to parties. I'm crap at pick-ups in bars or at parties, I've just never had the confidence some other people have in those scenarios.

But I'd had an invite to a party hosted by gay guys I knew through political activism, and thought I'd show up and see how things went.

At the party I spotted this drop-dead sexy redhead about my age, height and build. I got a big smile when we were introduced and was excited by the thought that he wanted me. But I was with friends and had to leave with them. However a day or so later I had a phone call at home. It was the redhead. He had asked the party hosts if they knew my number, which they did. He was staying with friends and invited me to spend the weekend with him at their house.

My memory of time-spans is not good, but I'm pretty sure we spent the entire weekend making out. We licked and sucked each other, kissed like crazy, I fucked him, he fucked me. It was the most glorious sex I had ever had with one man. His body tasted and smelled totally gorgeous, and over the following weeks he proved to be the best lover I had ever had. And he wanted commitment.

But I was still new to relationships, and wasn't ready for commitment, so we stopped being lovers. I was a bloody fool to have let him go, if I could have my life over again, knowing what I know now, I would beg him to marry me.

In 1980 I moved into another flat, sharing with a gay guy who had a talent for picking up. He got lots of cock, but not from me. He was one of those people who can pick up a hot man really easily, I wished I'd had the knack.

I had an invitation to another party but I didn't have a vehicle so had been given a lift there by a friend.

I can't remember exactly how I managed to do it, but at the party I picked up this tall, dark-haired twenty-one-year-old Italo-Australian hunk and he agreed to take me back to my flat. Surprisingly, he had his dog in the car. When we got to my flat the dog was locked in the bathroom while I took his owner to my bedroom.

We kissed and as we undressed he made a confession. "I've only been to bed with one man and one woman, and they both said I was too big for them."

No prizes for guessing my answer. But just in case you can't guess: "You're not going to have that problem tonight babe."

He certainly was big, but I was determined to suck him nearly to oblivion and then let him bury his big tool deep inside me. I really got off knowing that he was having his first ever fuck and that it was me who would receive his first load of spunk.

We met up a few times after that and eventually he asked if I would screw him, but he was nervous about it. I remembered the first time I had been fucked, barely three years ago, and I had been scared witless. So I was keen to make this a good time for him. He lubed his arse and I got nice and hard lying on my back then I told him to straddle me.

"Lower yourself onto my cock, babe, take it slow, you're in control and you can back off any time if you need to".

He gradually sank down on my seven inches while stroking his much bigger cock, and I told him, "You feel so good man, I love being inside you". Eventually we both climaxed.

My buddy had me to thank for his first fuck and his first fucking. But the pressure of having to pretend to be straight at his workplace was too much and he drifted away and eventually got married. He should never had married, but at the time people in the armed services and the police force would be sacked if they were found to be gay so there was enormous pressure to appear straight. Society's bigotry wrecked a lot of men's and women's lives.

Late in 1980 I quit my job, and went back to university full-time to do a graduate course. My previous supervisor at work had also quit work, and I occasionally had dinner with him and his girlfriend. He was my height and waist size (31") at the time, but had really beefed up across the shoulders. Blonde, good-looking, muscular and in his twenties, he played in a rock band and I thought he was super-hot.

One night he dropped by my flat unannounced and alone, carrying some drinks. We got a bit drunk and he then shocked me saying he had once fooled around with his lead singer who was a muscle-guy. He then shocked me even more by asking if he could suck my cock.

We had a bit of a go at that but the alcohol had wrecked me and also I felt a bit overwhelmed by this hot macho guy on my couch. His cock was smaller than mine but he was rock-hard so I said, "You're the one with the hard-on, why don't you use it on me?"

He flipped me over on my back, lifted my legs, entered me swiftly and pinned me to the couch with his hands gripping my ribs so hard they left a bruise on each side. He started pounding me and I was in total heaven. Eventually he unloaded his spunk inside me and fell forward, lying on top of me. I stroked his shoulders with one hand as he dozed for a few minutes, still inside me, then he suggested a shower.

We soaped each other clean in the shower and got dressed, and he was perfectly laid back about what had just happened between us. I didn't tell him how I felt, but what I felt was that he could fuck my arse any time he wanted. We stayed friends for many years but he never screwed me again.