in intently to the conversation, and he just smiled widely and nodded to tell him it was OK to come on down. I was confused, not knowing what the fuck was up, but I told Gary to come on down to my room since I had no other quick option at hand myself.

Mr. Whopper pulled out a small packet of the marijuana and just said quickly to me, “Let him know that you are making a buy from me and that you will appreciate his confidential treatment of this information.” How fuckin slick! Gary showed up within moments, knocked at the door, and came in, warily, to confront me and the handsome stranger. To this day, I still believe he thought that he was going to find a scandal of some sort in the making, but of what variety I will never know. Mr. Whopper quickly took control of the situation and threw the packet on the coffee table, and verbally threw out the price. Gary’s eyes went wide, when he realized that there was a business transaction going on, and surprisingly he was an immediate partner and sympathizer, an ally. Mr. Whopper said casually enough that that was all he had at the moment, and apologized by saying that although he had promised to bring me more, he would have to bring it later tonight or tomorrow. Gary quickly wanted in on the business transaction, almost drooling with the weed possibility for him personally. The deal was sealed, we all smoked a joint then and there, and Gary went away with his own portion of the little package, and with the knowledge that Mr. Whopper would be coming back with more supply later. Shortly after he left, I had the full nude package of Mr. Whopper on naked display on my bed and was gratefully giving him one of the best blowjobs he had ever had in his life. Gary was never the wiser.

I remember thinking that my Aussie-Whopper-suck-and-fuck buddy was a helluva lot faster thinker on his feet that I would have been able to do! He defused the situation completely, and Gary just seemed to wink and nod whenever he saw him in the hotel lobby, or wherever he was spotted, over the next week or two before I left. Gary thought that I was “The Man!” for hooking into a supply. I even got bold enough to take him to the bar and restaurant on a couple occasions, just introducing him as a friend of mine. Gary was doing all the cover work if anyone wondered about it. Upstairs, I was doing all the “uncover” work with about as much male sex as we both could handle.

Before I left, I asked Mr. Whopper to shop with me, to find some fiery red opals for my wife. I can no longer remember his exact words, but the concept of my having his fiery family jewels that were finer than opals was a fun running commentary that caused us both to laugh as we shopped for the jewelry.

I never heard from him again. We did not trade addresses. We both knew it was a one-off, but what a time it was, for almost three golden weeks in Australia. Perhaps the only regret is that I did not have the chance to experiment with any other stud while in Melbourne except for the one guy. But never mind, he was