“Christian, you seem to be hung up on sex!” I shouted from the kitchen.
“I don’t know about being hung up. Well hung for sex maybe!” There was that crackling cheeky laugh again. As I came through the door bearing the beers I could have sworn he was adjusting his genitals.
“Look, Cabaret is about vulnerable people. They’ve lived in the sleaze of the Weimer Republic but Nazi storm clouds are looming.”
I was looming over the boy reporter holding out his stubby of Emu Bitter. There was no mistake. Although it was imprisoned in his jeans I could see the hard bar of his cock… I could even make out the shape of the head. No Kev, don’t get your hopes up for God’s sake. Boys that age crack them for no reason at all. Keep them up for hours at a time… until they can wrestle with them and choke the juice out of them in the bathroom or behind the bushes in the park. Why would Boy Wonder be interested in you Kevin? Hasn’t your ego landed you in enough trouble in the past? You have a job to do, you have to sell your show and that is why this young man is sitting in your lounge room drinking your beer. There is no other reason. Still, faced with such unreachable riches I was having difficulty keeping my thoughts disciplined. Because of the thick denim I hadn’t been able to tell whether the boy was cut or uncut. Well, I could hardly ask him.
To digress; the other evening I was looking over this memoir and realized that just about all the young guys already encountered are described as being uncut. Could that really have been the case or am I guilty of carrying out some sort of sub-conscious editing? Actually I have to admit that my preference is for the un-circumcised cock… but hey, I’m not rabid. I just prefer the appearance of the uncut model (as I’ve pointed out earlier) and let’s face it, there’s more to manipulate and play with. Supporters of circumcision (and they can be pretty rabid let me tell you!) will try to tell you that the cut cock is more hygienic. They conjure up all kinds of deadly microbes and filth lurking within the folds of the foreskin. Some of them even try to argue that uncut guys are far more likely to get infected with STD’s or even HIV. It’s not really an issue. Uncut guys (gay or straight) know that it’s an easy matter to pull back the foreskin and wash the cock in the shower or the bath – or better still, get a friend to do it for you! It’s easier than washing your hair, and let’s face it the foreskin is a great aid for wanking. So much so that the staid Victorians promoted circumcision because of this reason. Did you know that Mr Kellogg, the guy who invented the corn flake was a passionate promoter of cutting the cock? What a flake!
As I pointed out to Mister Eyelashes, I’m no expert on these matters but from my own observations I’d say that the majority of guys in Australia these days are uncut. And certainly I’ve never come across an uncut boy anywhere in Asia… unless the odd American is wandering through the sauna. But this hasn’t always been the case, well certainly not in Australia. An older friend of mine told me about an experience he had when attending a new primary school in Attadale, a suburb of the city of Perth. This was just a few years after the end of the Second World War. The first time he had to go into the boys’ change room to get ready for swimming lessons, he took down his shorts and had a furtive look around the shed. To his horror he saw that all the other boys’ dicks were very different to his. Instead of a kind of tube with an opening on the end for pissing out of all these boys had what seemed to be cute little bulbs on the ends of theirs. Before he was discovered he tried to pull up his bathers but it was already too late. One of the class bullies, a flabby boy called Jake Watson, pointed at my friend’s cock and shouted: “Yuck! Bloody Rick’s got something wrong with the end of his dick!”
Thereafter Rick (my friend) tried to walk around most of the time with his foreskin retracted. Alone in his bedroom at night he would examine the thin cord of the frenulum behind the head of his cock and wonder how it was that he’d been born with such a deformity. If he thought he was in danger of having to reveal himself in school change rooms he even used bits of Sellotape to keep the foreskin back in place. Some years later he regretted this because through keeping the skin retracted and rubbing against the rough cloth of his shorts his cock head lost its glossy shininess.
In Australia many Aboriginal tribes practice circumcision. But this doesn’t happen immediately after birth. During their early teenage years boys are rounded up by young adult men and elders and taken out into the bush for an initiation ritual. This can last up to a month and during it the boy passes from boyhood to manhood. They live off the land and at the beginning of the process the boy has his cock cut by older men using sharp stones. Traditionally women have been banned from these ceremonies and until fairly recent times if they even accidentally stumbled across a male initiation ceremony they would be immediately speared to death.
Even today most Aboriginal men won’t talk about the initiation of boys. For many years there have been rumours that the process also involves the young boys being fucked by the older men. I’ve seen an old black and white photo depicting a huge tangle of Aboriginal boys and young men. There were cocks and balls everywhere. And cocks filling mouths and arse holes everywhere. But the person who showed me the picture could not produce any evidence that this was part of an initiation ceremony.
In northern parts of Australia sub-incision rather than circumcision is often used. This is a slit up the back of the cock designed to let most of the semen leak away before it enters the woman’s cunt. The theory goes that it was developed over many centuries as a birth control measure for people living in desert-like circumstances.
In my memory my afternoon interview with Boy Journalist Christopher in a faraway town in a faraway time fades into a pleasant buzzing glow as we discussed theatre and sex, Cabaret and sex, life and sex. We had several more beers until, almost matter-of-factly Boy Wonder reached out and squeezed my clothed genitals. Now I could satisfy my curiosity. I unzipped the boy and pulled out the hard shaft. Christopher himself released his tight balls. Hallelujah! He was uncut. A fairly long and luxuriously thick foreskin. I pushed it back and checked out the gutter. The boy was scrupulously clean. As I was assessing him Christopher released my cock and examined it carefully. He gently grasped my foreskin and started to give me a slow wank. I wondered how many cocks he’d seen in his short life. And how many he’d handled.
As the afternoon waned we decided we’d be a lot more comfortable if we got rid of our clothes. We went into the bedroom and I ran my hands all over the boy’s compact body. His olive skin had a wonderful sheen and his body was almost hairless except for a lively bush around the cock. His balls were tight. By now he was wanking me more forcefully but he became upset when he lost his own erection. He tugged it and pulled it to no avail.
“Christopher, you’ll do yourself an injury.”
“But this has never happened to me before.”
“It’s just the beer. Let it go… what does Shakespeare say? Booze increases the desire but reduces the ability? Something like that.”
“You won’t tell anyone… that I lost it.”
“Oh sure, I’m going to broadcast it all over town! Of course not… silly boy.”
Shrugging, he moved towards me on the bed turning his face towards my genital region. Tenderly he took my cock in his hands, peeled back the foreskin and began to kiss and lick the head. His tongue nudged the tiny lips of my piss hole. He then started to lick the sensitive region behind the cock head… then with a thrust he took my whole length in his mouth whilst fondling and stroking my balls. My God, Boy Wonder was a highly experienced cock sucker! How could that possibly be? All too soon I felt the pressure building. Christopher sensed this and his motions became more and more urgent.