An Aussie Affair...one to Remember!

I had always wanted to go to Australia, with images of the Aussie lifeguards dancing in my fantasies. When I was lucky enough to get an actual work assignment to go to Melbourne, I was elated.

My reason for going to Melbourne was to work with a major information technology firm on a huge technology transfer from the US of A. I was the senior manager on the project, and accordingly, had a lot of motivation to keep my nose clean and to avoid any issues with any of my project team. Reputation of the company, the US, all those things. We were a long way from home, with various personalities that I had to contend with, and engineers and technical software guys are sometimes odd to manage anyway, so I was having to exercise the best of judgment at all times. I did not want anyone to catch me with my pants down, so to speak. But the rise of testosterone does make the blood boil with the temptation to misbehave, and after a week or so of the technical grind, I was looking for some other way to grind. Frankly, I was getting a bit frustrated, knowing I had to behave and appear to be pure, yet wanting very much to have some male sex. I had never been to bed with an Australian.

We were staying in one of the Hyatt hotels, quite a grand one. I was “entertained” most every evening for dinner and often with late night clubbing, by various executives from the client company, and had the good fortune to dine at some of the best restaurants the city had to offer. The booze always flowed, especially the wine with dinner, the port afterward, etc. On one particular evening, I returned to the hotel, a bit woozy, probably had another drink or so with my buddies in the hotel bar which was often the case, then went outside for a small stroll to clear my head before going to bed. I often smoked the occasional cigarette or cigar, so that was probably another reason to take the fresh air.

Within a block or so of the hotel, however, I stopped in my tracks upon noticing this exceptional hunk of Aussie meat. He was wearing white shorts, and they were very short, indeed, and very fully packed. He was wearing trainers, and a skimpy string muscle vest. Exceptionally good looking, frosty blonde with that sort of sun bleached hair with darker roots that has such masculine appeal. My first reaction was that this was a rent-boy, but he did not try to attract my attention as I sauntered by, and I think that pissed me off enough to go back and try to attract HIS attention. I sat down near him, said “Hello”, and after a moment or so, offered him one of my cigarettes. He took it, smiled in a disarming manner, and I was actually not completely sure what might happen next. In the brief chat that followed, I quickly decided that he was not rent, and it was easy to discern that he was a fairly sophisticated and well-educated businessman. But I knew what I wanted something other than just his resume that was for sure. We seemed to click onto each other’s personality in a compelling magnetic fashion.

Small talk. He was pleased to know that I was from the US.