On newsstands across Europe today and in better US cities very soon it’s lucky issue 21 of the French magazine PREF featuring yours truly in high-class, glossy print. We haven’t seen this yet, but there should be quite a spread for all the photos we submitted. If that wasn’t enough, François Sagat also appears in this issue. Funny how we keep popping up together…

or

Donkey’s lips do not fit onto a horse’s mouth.

It was after school in April. I normally stayed late to catch the middle school bus home from my high school. Our schools were all on the same campus, K thru 12. The upper classmen took to making fun of me that year. I knew that in ten years they would still be taking the same bus being miserable and living at home, but it did not help to alleviate the afternoon of pain and ridicule that I would have to endure if I chose to ride the bus home from school at 2:30.

There were about ten of them that ran in a pack preying on the weak, timid and the different and all of them were on my route home. So I stayed after; an hour of empty time was worth avoiding the torment. She was there as well, probably for the same reason. She was one of the different, she always had been. She frankly never had a choice. She was adopted and through the years of grade school never really got along well with everybody else. She tried so hard to fit in that in the end the only way was to fit out. It did not help that she failed a couple of grades along the way and was two years older than us. She developed far beyond her years and at 16 she could have passed for 20 and in some cases she probably did. She was always extra nice to me and I tried very hard not to be to nice to her in public; it would surely mean that both of us would be targeted by the pack and in that case there was not strength in numbers.

Just to pass the time I found myself talking to her and before I knew what was what we were upstairs in the girls bathroom and she had her breast out. I remember not knowing what to do except what I had seen in movies so I kissed it and felt its extreme size in the palm of my hand. It was weird and all I could think about was what would be for dinner that night after I rode home with the 6th and 7th graders.

It did not go very much farther than that. I was hungry and at that point, was not looking forward to visiting the other bases; I had forfeited this portion of the game as far as I was concerned.

The next day in the lunchroom she approached me quietly; she knew not to act too friendly. In the communication hub of the school if anybody suspected anything it would be common knowledge by 8th period. She did not mention anything about the encounter over the American Standard, but instead held out a condom, giggled and walked away.

At the time I had two buddies in school. We all owned mopeds and lived relatively close to each other. We had nothing in common during school hours for we all ran with different crowds, but after school we were always together. As soon as I was handed the golden foil packet I ran to show my friends, hoping that this would finally be the dose of male acceptance that I had hoped and longed for. It was just enough for them to almost shoot in their pants; their friend had just been given the get go to go all the way. In their minds it was just as good as if they had been given the golden ticket themselves. For two days thereafter we discussed everything about her, her body, what she may have looked like “under there” and what she might do… and not do. Eventually the subject of a 4 way came about. This excited me greatly. I had yet to experience anything sexual with either sex and now I was going to have it all at once. Thank God because I was not digging the thought of pussy on its own without assistance of my buddies.

My parents were both home and upstairs talking to each other unaware of the orgy their son had arranged beneath their feet. She was the last to arrive. I cannot remember if she agreed to the quadra-fuck or even if she had been asked, but I was going to try. Again I cannot remember how we got there, but there we were just the two of us in front of the washing machine on the cold concrete floor. At that age all I needed to do was take my cock out and it was hard so it did not matter what or who was in front of me. We had our pants off and I had just put the rubber on myself. She had to guide me in because I had no idea what I was doing, I was just hoping that my boys would show up soon and “lend a hand”. As I began to do what I thought I was supposed to I heard the sounds of shoes on concrete and began to get very excited. The footsteps stopped and the sound of giggles echoed quietly. The laughter faded to the TV room where the boys waited for me to report to them every dirty thing that I we did. Little did they know that way before they got there I had shot my load; it took 2 pumps, I was a 2 pump chump.

I created a story for my buddies based on a Penthouse forum article I had read. It didn’t matter because they believed every word I said. I had won the approval of my male friends, but now I had something else to tackle.

It isn’t shocking that I was totally unaware of the emotional connection women have with sex. In her mind we were a couple. I put a halt to that, but did allow us to be friends, “secret friends” – we would not talk during school hours and only in the private of one another’s home would we interact. She seemed very happy with this arrangement and was willing to be sworn to secrecy. We messed around for a while and I experimented with the different sexual acts that I had seen in XXX films. I did not take very well to the oral part of things. I almost gagged and have since never returned.

As the years went on we grew apart. In 10th grade I was at my peak of being angry at any and everybody including myself. I was using lots of drugs and cutting school. The desire to visit the upstairs girl’s bathroom was soon replaced with smoking in the boy’s. I do not know what happened to her. There are plenty of rumors though like, like she is living in Kentucky with 7 kids or she is some bargain bin porn ho; that one is my favorite.

I hope she is happy and I wish that she had been happier and treated better then (myself included). It was a very hard time for a lot of people in very different ways; it was the worst 3 years of my life and I cannot believe I endured so much at that age. I guess that is why I had acted out so severely. It didn’t kill me, it made me stronger. Hopefully it made her stronger, too.

Doing the Grabbys was a lot of fun, but there was one small thing that annoyed me. It was my hair. Because it is so long and thick I have to plan days in advance if it is to be shown at an event such as the Grabbys. I have to wash it in enough time so that by showtime it is relaxed enough and the oils are distributed through my scalp and hair. It is exhausting – especially to a low maintenance guy like me. Not to mention that I find hair everywhere all the time. Usually I keep my mane under the cover of a bandana or perhaps my favorite Pink Floyd baseball cap. That allows me to keep the beast under control and provides me with an excuse to don head gear; my favorite accessory. When doing dance gigs and co-hosting events the Pink Floyd hat does not bode well. So I spend time and energy taming the beast and getting it ready for outside world.

On Wednesday last week I woke up, took a shower and spent the usual 10 minutes washing my hair and another 3 picking it up off my white bathroom floor. At that moment I took a look in the mirror and felt an urge to cut it. This was fleeting as I began to brush it and noticed that it was getting to that perfect length where it can be pulled behind my ears; I love doing that. I walked outside and encountered the first day of summer here in the desert. It was 103. That feeling I had after I finished my shower had returned and stayed with me all day. I couldn’t shake it, the thought of shaving my head seemed not only rebellious (I also love doing that) but extremely comfortable and free; two things that dictate the way I live. So I took the shears to my scalp later that night.

Let me tell you, it was a shock to see all that hair falling around me. I ran my hand over my head and was so excited that there would be no huge Albert Einstein hair to calm in the morning and no more strategic pomade application to my temples and the roots of my crown. I was free from all that, plus feeling the wind blow over my new skin was intoxicating. I was also sooooo glad that I have no odd crevices or bumps on my head, I have a perfect head shape if I do say so myself. Thanks ma!

I know there will be some tears and gasps, but I like the new look and that is what this business is about to some degree; changing it up and keeping you guys (and girls!) surprised. Aside from that, it’s Palm Springs people and there’s no way I’d make it through the summer heat with those curly locks!