I've been a long-time reader of Nifty, adoring fan of so many writers. This story: The Tale of an Aussie Rugby Bottom was a book that I published via Amazon. I no longer sell it, but I decided that people here might like to read it, and the sequel that I never published.
Characters in these stories do feature in my Holmes & Watson mystery novels (available on Amazon, search Richard Saw), so if you like a little mystery novel (with lots of sex and humour), please do look them up. But I promise that all of the good stuff will be in these stories.
And yes, do send me fan mail.
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In this Chapter our hero finds with the boyfriend away, those desires to be a bottom aren't just a one-off. And a young gym buddy opens his arse and mind to some kinky gender play.
The Tale of An Aussie Rugby Bottom, who also liked to Top - Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
My experiences with Durante and Alonzo had completely thrown me for a loop. I thought I knew what I was doing, I had been convinced that I wanted a relationship with Rocco. But now?
I struggled through the work week and on Saturday I decided that because I'd skipped a few gym sessions recently it made sense to try and catch up and get rid of my excess energy before I did something I'd regret. There was a different crowd on a Saturday at my local gym. While there were more women doing classes, the weights area was deserted except for a couple of groups of black guys hanging around. I thought I recognised some of them, so I nodded, and they responded in kind.
I'd met a few black guys in bars over the years, even had a few kisses and fumbles as I thought they were often pretty handsome. But I had never had a really significant encounter... Until that day of course. There was a young guy, lucky if he was twenty I think. He wasn't the muscle-bound size of the other guys hanging around, he was about 5ft 8 and slender. But he was friendly. He came and asked me if I'd spot him, and I said sure. He didn't lift huge weights on the bench press, the usual 20kg on each side and he struggled with that. He thanked me and asked if I came to the gym often.
It was all so innocent, but I could tell. He wanted more. I was horny of course but I wasn't feeling massively attracted to him, he just seemed friendly and well, I think it was his obvious excitement that made me interested in return. It was nice to have someone make the move on me in a nice way. I decided that I would take him home, fuck him and get rid of those crazy thoughts I was having. That is, if he was really into me.
He seemed to have timed it well, going to the changing room at exactly the same time as me, which was one reason I felt confident. I was getting out of the shower just as he did and he looked my muscled body up and down and I swear there was a whistled, "Damn," as we almost touched. I couldn't help but smile.
"Gareth," he introduced himself. "What you doing now?" he asked, as if it was the most natural thing to ask.
"Just going home," I replied. "I don't live very far away," I heard myself explain. "You wanna come over for a drink?"
"Sure," he said. We both knew what was going to happen and yet we hadn't spoken about it or made the slightest reference, it was quite exhilarating really.
We got back to the flat and I let him in. "You wanna drink?" I asked. He nodded and while I went into the kitchen I left him removing his shoes.
I came back with a drink of water in each hand, and he was just standing there, buck naked, stroking his six-packed stomach with a huge fuckin' cock just hanging there. I mean it was about 10 inches, I swear. It was the biggest cock I had ever seen in my life. My heart was pounding away, and I had to place the glasses down on the table to stop from spilling them.
"Like it boy?" Gareth asked. I tried to answer but I was flustered. He was about eight years younger than me. He was skinny, he had no muscles. How could he call me boy?
"Yes," I whispered without knowing why I was so willing to agree. Of course I liked the cock, who wouldn't? But where did he honestly think this was going?
"You like my big man cock don't you boy?" this... this young guy was saying these things like he was some sort of muscle daddy, and I was a little twink (by now I was getting the hang of the phrases). But, but... It was huge. Still to this day I remember the heart palpitations I felt seeing that cock. I needed it bad I realised, I needed to serve that cock. I was older and bigger but all I could think was that he was the real man'. He smirked and said that my muscles were such a joke, all the brothers' at the gym laughed at me behind my back. I never thought that hearing something like that could get me so totally turned on. But I touched myself and my nipples were hard, my cock was wet and geez, even my arse tingled. He told me that if I wanted the cock I had to get on my hands and knees and crawl over. And I did...
Gareth dangled that big black cock in front of me and waved it back and forth, battering my face with it. I extended my tongue and tried to lick it since it didn't seem he was going to allow me to get it into my mouth.
Just as I was about to try lift myself up off the floor, he told me to go switch on the football game and get him a beer. I was lost for words. I'd never met a guy, especially one so young, who had so much self-confidence to order a guy like me -- who was much bigger in every way (except where it counted I guess) around. I did as he ordered and went off to get a beer out of my fridge while he sat on the couch and played with that huge cock. When I came back, I gave him the beer. He gave me a perfunctory, `Yeah thanks,' and then he pointed to the floor where I was obviously expected to kneel.
"You want this cock then?" he asked.
I nodded vigorously.
"So you admit you're not a top. You're a cock-hungry pussy with a widdle white cock, aren't you?"
I nodded as I wrapped my hand around the base of that huge cock. God I wanted it. Well I wanted him, I wanted to be taken. I wanted to worship this real man.
"You're not the first muscle white boy I've taken down you know," Gareth smiled at me. "But it never gets old man, it just gets fuckin' hotter. Now com'n, get to work."
I didn't have to be told twice, I went down on that cock like I'd been on a desert island for years. "Oh yeah, oh yeah," he moaned happily. "Suck my dick white boy."
I kept lavishing attention on it, struggling to get my mouth around it and relishing the taste of the pre-cum.
Eventually he seemed to have had enough so he drained the rest of the beer and said, "Stand up and show me that cunt of yours bitch."
I stood up, turned away from him and pulled my arse cheeks apart, knowing exactly what he meant.
"Damn girl," he snorted. "If you think I'm gunna fuck a dirty hairy pussy like that you got another thing coming."
"I used to wax it," I tried to explain. But once I had taken up with Rocco I'd got lazy, and the upkeep was expensive, so I'd stopped.
"You fuckin need to start again," Gareth ordered. "In the meantime you're gunna go to your bathroom and shave all that dirty fuckin' hair off your cunt. I like my girls to have a nice Brazilian."
I should have objected to his choice of words right there and then, but it was so erotic, so horny, so new. It felt like a deep, distant desire, buried by so much other stuff. To have a guy who wanted to treat you like a woman and fuck you like one, well it was making me hard.
"But get me another beer before you do baby," he cracked, and I obeyed.
Shaving down there took a little longer than I expected as I was shaking so much and by the time I came back out into the lounge Gareth was half-way through his second beer. "Let me see," he barked, and I stood in front of him, my legs apart and I leant down to touch the floor.
"Hmm, hmm," he growled his approval. He stretched me out with his fingers and then slid one digit inside. "Tight, I like that," he said. "It's not gunna be soon, but as for now..."
And then without warning, he poured a little of the beer down onto my cunt. The shock of the cold made me quickly straighten up and whimper in shock. But of course that wasn't how Gareth chose to hear it.
"Ha, ha," he laughed rudely. "Such a girl. You squeal like one anyway. Now if you want this," he said, pointing down to his crotch, "I don't want your clit getting in my way, ok?"
"My clit?" I quivered at the mention of the word, partially confused but sure I knew what he was talking about.
"That thing," he pointed at my cock. "You've either got to keep your hands over it or tuck it away. Your choice. And no pretend manly grunts or the good stuff stops ok?"
I nodded my head in agreement and quickly placed my hand in front of my groin. Of course it had no intention of playing along, getting harder as soon as I touched it.
"So what's it called princess?"
"My clit," I said quickly.
"And what am I going to fuck?"
"My cunt," I blushed at the word.
"Very good," he laughed, amused at my willingness to do whatever he said. "You white boys," he snorted in mock disgust, "So willing to give up your dignity and any pretence of manhood as soon as there's a real man's cock on the horizon."
It's funny how people can say things in the heat of sex that you'd never let them say in real life isn't it?
"So how are we gunna do this?" Gareth asked rhetorically. "Let's save christening your bed for later shall we? Why don't we do it in front of the window?" The flat I was sharing with Carlos had quite large windows that looked across the street to another apartment block. Carlos was a little more conservative than me and he was constantly pulling the blinds down, but I was less fussed. And it was coming back to fuck me in the arse! I just hoped that the neighbours were out, didn't care or would find it horny.
Gareth dragged a chair over in front of the centre window and sat down, facing out. "Com'n, come sit on the beast."
I padded over and desperately lubbed myself up, sniffing some poppers as well, anything to loosen me up before I sat down on him. I guessed that Gareth might not be the sort of guy to accommodate a tight arse like mine, especially as it had almost sealed itself shut over the last couple of months.
"Face that-a-way," he coolly ordered. "I don't need to see you get all emotional when I smash that pussy."
I swallowed, nodded, and faced the window as I carefully placed myself above his cock. I gasped at the size of the head but when I heard him say, "Once my baby-maker breaks down your back door you're gunna be begging for my load," my arse seemed to betray my macho persona. It opened -- well alright, it opened like a bloody flower. Ya satisfied now? I took that cock in one deep, gut-wrenching move.
"Oh.. oh.. oh..." I gasped as I felt the base of that beautiful cock hit my arse. I felt out of breath, heady with the rush of it all. Surely it couldn't be cheating if it felt so good, right?
I didn't have to be told what to do next. I started rising up and down, ever so slowly, on that wonderful cock. "All-right you go girl," Gareth laughed. "That's what all those squats at the gym are for. I knew it had to be for a reason."
The power and size of that cock seemed to have sucked all the energy out of mine. Having been so blood-gorged before, it had now shrunk back but the feelings of arousal had transferred to the rest of my body. Despite the agonising post-gym feel, my legs were working hard to keep me on that cock. As I rode up towards the top I could feel my body react to the lack of something inside me and it made me cry out to be re-filled.
"That's it princess," Gareth crooned, as if this encounter wasn't affecting him at all, "Keep working it, keep riding it, keep that cunt as tight as you can. You wanna satisfy your man don't you? You want him to fill your pussy up."
"Oh yes, yes, pleeeassse," I moaned.
"Good," he said, firmly placing his arms around me and keeping me in his lap. I started to bounce up and down as having the full length and thickness in me was making me see stars. "Now I'm gunna stand up and you're going to bend forward ok?" he explained.
I nodded my head, to out of it to talk. As he gradually rose up from the chair, I leant forward, and I felt a whole different sensation. As the angle of his cock changed, I felt it thrust forward into my insides and I could do nothing but wail.
"Aww," Gareth laughed. "Is my princess feeling a bit sore? Does she realise that her pretty little fantasy life is gunna be over after this?" Even as I was getting skewered I was able to turn around enough to see him and wonder what exactly did he mean by this? His voice changed a little as he said, "If you want to feel this up your cunt on a regular basis, we're gunna play it a specific way. You up for that?"
Well when you've got a huge dick up your arse I've found you'll pretty much say anything. But of course saying that in the heat of action was one thing and actually playing around with Gareth was another thing entirely. But after six months of Rocco and his friends, boy did I feel the desire for something different. And I was about to get it.
Suddenly Gareth's hands gripped around my obliques tighter, and he yelled, "Oh yeah mutherfucker take my load!" And I felt a wave of cum flood into my arse. It had felt like an age since I'd been filled so completely. As Gareth slid out I felt a shock that I hadn't felt in a long time. I felt savaged and yet well and truly alive. For some reason I looked down and saw that my hand was covered in cum -- I had been playing with myself without even knowing it.
"Damn Princess," Gareth smiled in a way that made me feel like a blushing bride. "I knew you were gagging for it, but I didn't realise how badly."
I slumped on the floor, thoroughly spent from not just the sex but from the gym workout and all the hours I was working in the restaurant. Gareth of course was wearing only a fine sheen of sweat. The energy of a 19-year-old, I guess.
"Give me your number," he instructed. "Maybe we'll do this again."
I should have admitted to myself right there and then that something was deeply wrong with my relationship with Rocco -- as if everything that had happened over those summer months hadn't been sign enough. But summer can be a strange time and now the winter was closing in, it would be harder to deny that my sexual needs could be fulfilled by one sparky little Italian alone.
Gareth of course was of no help. He left me alone for a day before the text messages started. And for a modern teenager supposedly brought up on abbreviated text-speak and force-fed generic culture, Gareth had a vivid imagination, and he certainly wasn't backward in his descriptions of what he wanted to do.
`Keeping yourself clean down there Princess?'
`Yes. Getting waxed again.'
`Good. I like a clean snatch on my girl. So when you free'
`How's Sat afternoon?'
`Maybe. You gunna beg for my cock? You gunna do what your man wants you to?'
`Oh yes please. I've been gagging for your cock all week.'
`Course you have. I bet you've been wetting your knickers all day at work. Go buy some stockings'
`Stockings?'
`Yeah for my Princess to wear. And it'll cover up those hairy legs of yours. Unless you want to shave. Up to you. But stockings are hot. You're gunna put em on for me and then bend over and I'm gunna tear a nice hole where your cunt is, and I'll slide in and fuck you hard. And the best thing is that your clit will stay nicely tucked away.'
My hands trembled as I read that message. He was so young yet so in control and what he wanted me to do was... so kinky. Well it wasn't that I hadn't done anything kinky' before but even by my standards, it was starting to feel as if everything naughty' was becoming mainstream. It didn't seem unrealistic to suspect that in a couple of years' time, M&S would be selling a beginner's bondage kit. But this gender-bending white male emasculation stuff, well this was outside the norm, this was proper kink. What kind of stuff Gareth would get up to later in life as he sought, like most of us, a harder sexual thrill, well that was just a bit horrifying to think about. But right now he was definitely giving me what I needed.
Wow that is so hot' I agreed. I'll get em today.'
`Send me a pic'
Finding my old `straight boy' persona, I went to my local Boots and pretended I needed to buy a pair of tights for my girlfriend. It was a story that everyone could believe, and my nerves were easily disguised as that of a man entering the world of women's undergarments for the first time. In the privacy of my own room I put them on. It was quite a unique feeling and thrilling in a different way. I imagine that women might have this feeling the very first time they put on a pair of fishnets or maybe not... I took a couple of pictures and sent them via phone to Gareth.
`Hot' was his only response.
He came over the following day and my heart was in my mouth for at least an hour before I saw him park his bike outside the flats.
`Answer the door naked' he texted.
I hurriedly dropped my shorts and waited for his knock. I opened the door and quickly remembered to put a hand in front of my junk to show him that I remembered his edict.
"Damn you're a dirty slut," he laughed as I stood there, naked. He stepped past me and added, "I bet you fuckin' open the door naked to every caller hey? Bet the plumber's had you a few times. There you are, flashing your tits off to anyone."
"My tits?" I asked, not sure I had heard correctly.
"Yeah those," and he cupped my pecs in his hands as if they were a woman's breast. "Can't have you showing those to the whole world can we? We're not on the French Rivera. Gunna have to get you at least a D-cup I reckon."
I placed my hand protectively across them and found myself shyly cowering in front of this fully clothed teenager. "That's good," Gareth smirked. "You're starting to get the idea. Have you got those stockings?"
I nodded and took them from where they lay on the table. "That's good darling," he chuckled. "Now I'm gunna sit back and watch you put them on. And make it sexy like, ok?"
Gareth then sat on the couch and pulled his thick cock out of his pants and started to play with it. I turned my back on him and placed one foot on a chair so I could bend over and place it in the stocking.
"Woo-hoo," whistled Gareth. "That's it Princess put that stocking on. Some might think this is a reverse strip-tease but we both know the real truth don't we?"
I slid the stocking up my right foot and then, carefully balanced, I bent over and slid my left leg in. I eased the stocking up over my desperately erect cock and then pulled the last bit over my substantial arse.
"Oh baby," Gareth crooned. "Come bend over my lap."
I walked over, covering my tits with one hand and the other rested near my mouth. Gareth edged his jeans down and as I knelt over him he used his keys to rip a hole in my stockings. "Ready to take it?" he laughed and before I had a chance he pushed me onto the sofa. I squealed and my legs were forced apart, the hole in the stocking opened further and that huge cock slid into my arse. Of course Gareth knew that I had already stretched it and lubbed it up but there was no point in discussing the details.
"Ohhhh," I moaned as my two hands cupped my tits and my big, muscled thighs forced me up and down that huge cock. The sofa had just enough give and it propelled Gareth even further into me.
"That's right baby," Gareth hissed. "Ride my cock. You've taken the pill right? Ain't gunna see you knocked up next week am I?"
"Oh no, no, no," I gurgled. "Fuck me Gareth," I swear even my voice was higher with that cock inside me.
"You remember the days when you used to strut around the gym floor mate?" He suddenly changed his tone. "Well those days are fuckin gone. You're the bitch of a black man now and I ain't gunna stop until there's no maleness left in you... apart from my loads. Do you hear me?"
"Yes, yes," I gasped as that big cock of his seemed to knock any sense out of me.
"It's Tanya from now on," Gareth ordered. "No more pretending to be a man, ok?"
"Oh yes, yes," I squealed as that cock broke my last line of defence. For this cock I was willing to go anywhere. My biceps stopped flexing and now started to drape my body over him in the manner of the stereotypical porn starlet.
"Oh fuck yeah!" roared Gareth as he came deep within me again.
Of course as soon as Gareth was out the door, all that character play disappeared and I went back to being myself. It was so invigorating to know that sex play could be so different from my normal life, and I could seamlessly switch between the two. I went back to work, to the gym and even back to fantasising about fucking Rocco. But it only took a text from Gareth to make me all wet again.
This one was a photo of a product in a Soho sex store. It was a sexy lycra dress that said `one-size fits all'.
`I wanna see you in this Tanya'
And then another of some sexy black lacy lingerie.
`You're gunna give me a lap dance wearing these'
There was no way I wasn't going to do this. Of course it took me days to build up the courage to go into the shop, but I put all of those thoughts to one side. I went in and pretended they were for my girlfriend. But not too hard. If you keep repeating the lie, people start to get suspicious. Here's a lesson for anyone wanting to buy something that makes them nervous. Just go in and ask for what you want. If they ask questions, just look a little confused and go, "Gee I dunno. It's for my girlfriend. Whatta reckon?" I can't say it will always work but have the lie prepared and use it sparingly.
I couldn't wait to get home and try my purchases on. I'm not saying I looked great or anything, but that wasn't the point. Taking the pictures with my phone and sending them off to Gareth was the hot bit.
Fuckin' hot. Gotta get me some of that' he texted straight back. Free tomorrow?'
I was and around he came. I greeted him at the door in the dress. It did fit me, though I'd cleverly bought one that didn't have to get over my shoulders. "Hello darling," I smiled at him.
"Sweet Jesus," he remarked, stepping in, shutting the door behind me, and grabbing me in an embrace before sliding his hand up the back of the dress. "You're looking sexy tonight."
I noticed that he'd gone to the effort of putting on a pair of pants and a shirt, combed his hair and had some cheap flowers in his hand. Damn he was treating it like a date. "Wait a minute my African prince," I said having thought up the only phrase that sounded hot. "I've got something to show you."
I left him on the sofa and rushed off to the bedroom where I pulled off the dress and slipped into some lacy knickers and a bra. Then I slipped on stockings attached to a garter belt and some high-heels that I borrowed off a drag queen who'd thought it was for some party -- I didn't bother to correct him. I even slipped on a wig. I turned on some sexy music and walked around.
"You like?" I said. As much as this whole thing was a huge sexual turn on, there was definitely a part of my mind that was just having fun with the whole experience. Of course at the time I was too young to understand it all, but I would later.
"Oh fuck me princess," he laughed. "That is so fucking hot. Com'n sugar lips," he teased me. "Give your man a proper dance."
I turned on some music that I'd prepared and started to gyrate in front of Gareth. It was a good thing there wasn't a mirror in the living room as I was sure that if I saw what I was doing or what it looked like, I would have probably ended it right there and then. But because I only could see it in my mind's eye, I was able to play it up as much as possible. I wiggled my arse in his face, gave my best impression of a lap dancer, and fingered myself as I did. Gareth hooted and `oh-yeah girl-ed' as I danced for him.
"Oh that's it Princess!" Gareth declared as he suddenly stood up. "We're going to your room so that I can make an honest woman out of you."
"Oh!" I exclaimed in surprise, never expecting those words to be uttered. He escorted me to the bedroom and proceeded to give me sex that was hotter and more intense than anything we had ever had before as I stayed in my lacy lingerie (proving to myself that those scenes in movies weren't unrealistic) the whole time. In the past the sex had been unnecessarily rough. But this time, after the initial struggle to get inside me, Gareth was almost caring. Instead of doggy style or cowboy (or even reverse cowboy), I was on my back in the missionary position with my legs either to one side or wrapped around him. This time the kisses were frequent, the `oh baby, oh baby,' sounded real and the thrusts were long and slow.
"Would you do anything for me?" Gareth asked as he turned me on my side and started to slide in again.
"Ohhhhh. Of course," I moaned.
"Stop going to the gym," he whispered. "I want your skin softer and more supple. Let's strip off that muscle and you'll look much hotter without it."
Well I guess there is a first time for anything in the bedroom. "But what if I get fat?" I asked.
Gareth gently rubbed my tummy which these days wasn't the hot young 6-pack I'd come over to London with. The work hours and the poor diet were starting to take their toll. "My baby inside you has to be protected, right? Anyway pregnant chicks are always the sluttiest."
I would have laughed but we were in the middle of sex, and everything was still so hot. "Ok, ok. Anything for my baby daddy," I promised, and I felt a flood of cum pour into me. Exhausted I lay back, but Gareth insisted on helping me up onto all fours.
He slid his fingers into my stretched hole and in a pretend posh accent said, "Right-o Mrs Mitchell I can feel all those babies in there. We'll have you pregnant in no time. But in order to help it along we have to get rid of your seed first. So if you'd be so kind as to masturbate right here in front of the trainee doctors." The boy had some imagination on him that's for sure. But I did as I was instructed, and I came quickly.
After sex there usually is an emotional and physical let down. In the past, Gareth had left so quickly that we'd never had time to reflect on it. This time though, even he was exhausted, and we lay together on the bed until we really had to move because the cum was getting sticky. This time the let-down was greater and despite having been frequent with our text messages to each other, from that point on, neither of us messaged or called the other. It was as if we had reached the logical conclusion to our relationship. I never even saw him at the gym and strangely enough, I don't recall ever feeling a desire to.
You would have thought that perhaps this would change my sexual desires, but I didn't want this fantasy with anyone but Gareth. I looked back and felt somewhat embarrassed by it all, as if it had only happened because I was unhappy with Rocco. I packed the clothing items away, deep within one of my drawers and tried not to think anything more about it. The fantasy would of course come back, many years later, but by then I was much more prepared to handle it!
But this was not the end of Gareth's influence. I might not have had a sudden desire to become a transperson or anything, but he had changed my attitude towards the pleasure of sexual play and as a result other things were going to be altered. Days after our final encounter, Rocco returned to London apparently having ensured that mama was well enough to look after the rest of the family again. Despite my warning that I had just come off almost 24 hours straight of work and I was carrying a cold, Rocco insisted on coming over. He was his usual energetic self and he dragged me to bed where he proceeded to ride me like a rodeo cowboy. That I was able to get hard that night I still consider one of my greatest physical and mental achievements but cumming was beyond me. That apparently wasn't good enough for Rocco. As far as he was concerned, whatever work I did (seriously, his exact words) wasn't half as exhausting as what he did on a daily basis and I should be so happy to see him after such a long time that I should be able to perform, whatever my circumstances. I wanted to give him an answer but instead I found myself just getting up and walking into the living room and switching on the TV.
Rocco didn't follow me, presumably he stayed sulking in the bedroom expecting me to come back and apologise. Eventually though, he must have got cold and decided to put one of my sweaters on. Of course that wasn't what he found. He came out, totally nude and holding the pair of lacy panties. "What are these?" he squeaked, no trace of humour in his voice.
I must have gone as white as a sheet but before I had the chance to fudge some bad explanation, Rocco's tendency to never shut up, saved me. "You're fucking a woman aren't you? You have been cheating on me with a fucking woman! Mamma Mia..."And off he went. As the rant became longer and longer I started to regain my colour and it occurred to me that telling Rocco the truth wasn't going to make anyone any happier. But... giving wings to Rocco's hysteria about his boyfriend cheating on him with a woman, well maybe there was something in that. So I jumped back into straightville' for 20 minutes and came clean' to Rocco. An old girlfriend had come back into town I explained, and we'd met up. She had made an effort to reclaim me, and she had got much better in the sack and well... I wanted kids. Years later, I still don't know if I did the right thing or not as Rocco took it very badly. He broke up with me there and then and by the time Carlos returned that evening, I was sitting on the sofa with a bemused look on my face.
Rocco tried to contact me several times afterwards, but I knew I didn't want to go back down that route and I had to be strong. Eventually he stopped calling and though I would occasionally see him on the streets of Soho, we never exchanged much more than a nod. But what I didn't so much appreciate is how the whole experience would impact on me. You see I had been given an opportunity for a simple basic relationship, but I had turned it down. And I had turned it down because I still craved other things, I still craved the need to explore the deep dark world of sexual desire. And as I would realise, I had a way to go.