MUGS......(part 1.)

Naturally the main focus of Brett's Boys were the clients. Mugs as we used to call them.
They come in every shape and size, from all walks of life, from every culture and from every age.
From 18 to 87, gay, bi or 'straight'.  Some are wonderful, charming fun people, others are horrible bastards.

I've got at least 101 individual stories I could tell you but it's more concise to give you a cast of characters who I or my friends dealt with.  There are hundreds to choose from and others will be mentioned down the track.  

Generalizing extremely you get your regular gays.  Open and easygoing.  The richer the harder to please.  Sleazy gays.  Dirty old men who look revolting, smell revolting and are revolting.  Hey it's a job and you get used to it or turn off.  Nice guys living a straight life in the suburbs, some often married, but who come for gay sex once a week or once a month.   Finally you get your kinks.  They again come from all walks and types.

One of my favourites (there would be many) was one of my earliest regulars.  A young suburban boy in his early 20's. Great body, good looking and great fun.  He would bring a bag of  cocaine and we would snort and cavort for 2 hours every Friday for 3 or 4 months.  We had great sex, fun chat and a good time.

I went on an out-call to a local hotel one night.  The mug was a businessman, 40'ish, fattish and cosnistently during the very boring sex, he kept getting up off the bed and opening the room door and peering, half naked down the hallway.  Afterwards, or rather as I was getting dressed and he was standing naked looking down the corridor he  told me...'I'm sure there must be other men like me in hotels.  You know, married men who just want to have sex with another man?'  Yea, I'm sure there are but I didn't want to dissolution him with what I actually thought.

Colin was a regular at least twice a week.  Probably in his 30's, small and extremely overweight and unfortunately not quite right in the head.  He always chose either myself or another boy called Bobby.  He came dressed in a boy scouts uniform and had many kinks.

His main desire was for humiliation.  We could undress him, make him sit in the corner, sometimes for over 30 minutes, hit him, urinate on him (he was begging for it).....it was really sad and pathetic but he was an easy and regular client.

I once spent two hours with a rich young gay guy in an amazingly (for me) penthouse apartment.  Admittedly naked, but we spent the whole time smoking dope, snorting cocaine and talking about his collection of porcelain antiques.

A Queens Councillor who was also a weekly regular.  Always took a big strong boy.  Always arrived in a taxi, so drunk that I would have to take his wallet out of his pocket and pay the driver, and so drunk that it took 3 boys to get him upstairs.  Regular as clockwork, 6pm every Friday evening.  Must have been a tough day at Court.

There were minor and some major celebrities amongst our clientele.  Again a mixed bunch.  Some regular in their desires others way off the deep end in the kinkiness.  Privacy is something I respect so I would never reveal names or fetishes.

Everyone's favourite was big in the Australian music industry.  Mid 50's, pleasant and jovial.  His apartment was lavish, as was his lifestyle.  He would call at least twice a week and always hire 2 if not 3 drag queens and one or two boys.  The next 3,4,5 hour, and sometimes longer sessions would all involve lots of cocaine.

The drag queens would then parade a number of dresses like models.  Naked underneath and changing on the spot.  They boys would also be naked, watching.  Sometimes the client liked to watch the boys and drags having sex, sometimes not.  Everyone was paid well and had a great time.
One client was one of the original 'organic' store owners in Sydney.  He had a store in Bondi Junction, which was then the main commercial centre for the wealthy and trendy Eastern Suburbs set.  His clientele ranged from hangover hippies to wealthy Jewish matriarchs of many of Australia's wealthiest and famous families.

One of his products was home-cultured natural yoghurt.  It was one of his biggest sellers.  Little did the clients know that at least 3 times a week he had some young, boyish looking male prostitute jerk off and cum into the yoghurt!

One evening I found myself in a cheap hotel room with the most obese man I had ever seen. He honestly took up so much of the bed that I had to lie as best I could on the small strip left with one leg on the floor supporting me.  There wasn't much but fat down there and the sex was easy and quick.  The mug was wheezing and gasping so much at the end I thought he was dying.  Even worse when he finally stopped gasping and started to sit up he had another attack and I thought he was going to fall back on me and the newspaper headlines would read ' anorexic male prostitute crushed to death by 200kg client!'

Another time I was on all fours on a cheap bed in a run down bedsit with a 60+ smelly and not too clean man.  He jerked himself off while he spread my buttocks apart and probed my bottom with his fingers.....'I really wish you had worms', he kept saying over and over.  'I'd love to see a white, wriggly worm coming out of your bottom'.....his fetish ever since childhood when apparently his mother used to kneel him and his two sisters on the kitchen table and check them for worms!

For a fortnight we had a middle aged man and his 'guardian'.  A young boy who had been orphaned at an early age.  This guardian was not related but had been raising him since he was six.  They were on holidays from Canada. The boy had just celebrated his 17th birthday and his 'guardian' was taking him on a world tour.  It was actually a 'gay world tour' as I would find out the itinerary was San Fransisco, Sydney, Amsterdan and London, with a stop at all the gay brothels and bars on the way.

The poor boy was not only shy and akward, but he was not pretty either.  Oily, stringy long blonde hair, glasses, buck teeth and acne.  He was a nice boy and took an instant like to me, choosing me everyday for the hour that they came over a two week period.  He was nervous, but keen to explore.  I gave him a few small puffs of a joint then gently let him relax while I delighted him in a variety of sensitive and pleasurable ways.  

We became friends of a sort and on my day off I invited him to spend the day with me.  I took him down to the harbour.  We walked around The Rocks, Circular Quay and the Opera House then took a ferry ride to Manly, had fish and chips for lunch and then a ferry ride back.  We finished at my,by then, shared terrace house.  He had paid for the entire day and I had spent nothing.  I didn't want to spoil it by charging him for the sex we had on that day.

Their last day and they both arrive at the parlor.  This time the older guardian picks me, much to my surprise, especially as the young boy seemed fine with this.  Of course what pursued was a sad and slightly sickening experience.  We did everything, the whole time he kept telling me how young and soft I was.  Eventually while he was coming inside me (condom on) he kept moaning the young boy's name over and over again........

We had 'straight' young guys, who would all come looking rugged and macho, get you into the room and simply unzip there fly and flop it out while you gave them a blow job.  No touching no reciprocation.  

Mostly, gay, bi or 'straight' the clients were just regular guys from all works of life who just wanted a fun time with a young guy without any hassle - of course that wasn't always the way.  From Graham I learned to never sell a product unless you know it is what the customer wants.  We were constantly getting rejected by out-call clients whenever Graham answered the phone.  They would ask for a particular type, and even if that 'type' was not available, Graham would send anyone telling them to 'act the part'!  When your slim, petite and pretty it's hard to pretend your a pumped up straight boy and vice versa.

I learned also to judge clients by simply looking at them and interpreting their initial greeting.  Whether it's a physical or a subconscious look, you learn quickly to size up a 'mug' by appearance and manner.  I would make a near fatal mistake in the coming months.........