It’s been a strange week but I found this picture on Twitter yesterday and thought it was a good match to my next instalment of ‘Speed of Life’. Called “Our First Night Under Canvas” it explores what happens when the three boys get in their sleeping bags. I’m sure you won’t be surprised that cocks get hard and thrust into various holes. I will upload the story later today, but in the meantime, enjoy the pic.
For those wanting to read more from Cockaigne, more will be coming.
I’ve created a map of Cockaigne to show where things are and what space we still have to populate. If you want to stake a claim and write your own stories then go ahead, or if you have any ideas then email any of the great Cockaigne writers.
I’ve been going to the gym now for nearly a month, and it was only this week that I saw a man changing into a jockstrap. Before I carry on, just don’t think of me as some kind of gym buddy with a hot body and six-pack, if I do have a six-pack, then it’s very well hidden. I just go to the gym to swim on the pool; a bit of cardio which takes the weight off my aching joints.
There are several things I’ve noticed while in the changing room. Young guys are very bashful. Some would just leave still in their gym kit, those that showered would pull on their underpants with a towel wrapped around their waist. I find it quite amusing.
Then you get the middle-aged guys who whip off their towel and quickly pull up their pants, making sure to point their arse to anyone else in the changing room.
And then you get the old codgers… anything goes with the old guys. They let everything hang out and seem to show no modesty.
This was part of the inspiration for ‘Cockaigne Chronicles’, as I wanted to develop a world where the body was normal and not to be ashamed of.
Let’s start a bush revival together. Bring out your bush!
The assumption is generally that guys don’t need privacy in the toilets. Ladies always have seperate stalls, but us guys are just expected to whip out our cocks and piss in front of complete strangers.
I, for one, have always had a problem peeing in front of others: family, friends or strangers. It got so bad that I nearly burst my bladder when I was out drinking with my brother and some mates. I was drinking pints of beer, many pints of beer, but when I went to the toilets, I just couldn’t go. The pub was packed, hence the toilets were packed so I had to wait foir a urinal to become free, and when it did, I just couldn’t go. I felt under so much pressure as other guys were waiting so I quickly tucked myself back into my trousers and went back out to a fresh pint of beer. Every time I tried I just couldn’t go, and the cubicles were always occupied (and disgusting).
Eventually I just had to wait for a cubicle to come free – but I did feel a bit weird waiting around while other guys had no trouble emptying their bladders.
Nowadays I always use a cubicle, I have to. But why are we expected to pee in front of each other? Sometimes us guys just need some privacy.
It’s almost 2020, a time I’m looking forward to as I won’t need my glasses anymore… as I’ll be seeing in 2020! I know, a dodgy joke but I am really looking forward to next year. I’ve got a new spring in my step, and I’m determined to keep that going.
I’m even writing again, and I hope to bring the first chapter of a new series very soon. It’s about a family that moves to a new town.
I’d be interested to know how other writers go about writing their stories. I tend to have a brief outline of what I want to happen and a sketchy plan of how to get there, but I find that sometimes a story takes you on a path all of its own. And this is one of those stories. I’ve not written many incest stories, and I hadn’t planned on this story to be heavy on incest (some, but not much) and that is just where the story has gone. I’ve also found that the story also went in the direction of humiliation and a bit of bondage, not severe bondage, tie me down and spank me till my balls are bruised, but a bit of gentle bondage causing humiliation and embarrassment.
I hope you enjoy my new story and the others that Screeve will bring you in the coming year.
All the best and see you next year, David
I would like to take this opportunity to wish you all a merry christmas and a happy new year.
I’m looking forward to 2020. I hope that the new year will bring a new confidence and a chance for me to finally put a very stressful and demanding year behind me. I am starting the new year in a good place with a determination to start looking after myself and take time out just for me. I hope I can keep it up!
All the best to all of you and enjoy the festive break.
Check out my new Twitter, I’ve been playing with it for a few months and just about got the hang of it.
Not everything I post will be queer related, but some will. I will also post about things that interst me – James Bond, Doctor Who, a little bit of politics (not too much though), the occasional video I find funny or poignant and few nice bodies (but it won’t just be sexy guys). Take a look and follow me.
Last weekend was the annual Pride march in my local city. I didn’t manage to go this year but my teenage nephew did. He went with a few friends, one identified as bi, one as pan and one as transexual; he self identifies as bisexual. All the young boys and girls (15 & 16 by the way) had a great time.
Standing at the tram stop on their way back home a man walked by, with his young daughter. As he walked by he said “faggots” to my nephew and his group of friends. He saw the look on his daughter’s face, and he said she looked mortified.
My first reaction was to laugh out loud. How could someone be like that in the day and age and during Pride. It just sounded so ludicrous.
Then I got to thinking and all those thoughts from my youth came flooding back. How I was scared of anyone finding out about my sexuality for fear of being victimised and bullied. I could never have come out at school and I had to hide who I really was until I came out in my twenties.
Today people are more free to be themselves and that is a good thing. But there are still those people who feel they the right to shout abuse at others.