BRILLIANT BOYS: Jody and Michel


To my Dear Followers,
My book BRILLIANT BOYS: Jody and Michel will be available for free downloading from Amazon Kindle from the 9th of October until the 11th. Here is an excerpt. I hope you enjoy reading it,




If I do go to university in a year or two I may move into student accommodation. I was given an e-reader by the folks last Christmas and of course I’ve down loaded a lot of gay stories. Sometimes you can get them for free or borrow them. Even if you have to pay for them there are heaps of great stories that would cost you less than a cup of coffee. I’ve noticed that out there in the ether there are probably thousands of stories about gay boys attending American colleges. It seems to be a real fashion at the moment. Well many of these guys live in residential colleges and, of course, each one of them has a roommate. Or a “roomie” as they often say in the States. Well, it doesn’t matter if both boys are gay or if one of them is a screaming little twink and the other is a jock – or maybe they are both straight, you know that by the end of the story they’ll be fucking each other. I even read one story about how a college boy is given some sort of horrendous drug by a girl at a party and when he wakes up his cock has been replaced by a wet cunt. Of course his straight mates spend the rest of the story fucking his new pussy. The more I read these tales about tails the more I’m tempted to move into student accommodation when the time comes.

Now I don’t want you to think that I don’t have a boyfriend because I do. His name is Michel and he lives on his own in a squalid little room in a boarding house at Kings Cross. I adore the name ‘Michel’, it’s much sexier than our own “Michael’ which always conjures up an image for me of a boy with pimples and horn-rimmed glasses.

Michel is from the French speaking part of Belgium and he’s a poet. He’s very beautiful, with luminous green eyes, a nicely ragged blond haircut and a complexion you could die for. I think it was his beauty as well as his poetry that helped him get a double spread feature in The Australian. The publicity got him requests to do poetry readings around the town and just the other week I went to see him perform at the Wayside Chapel which is situated in Kings Cross. I could see there were lots of girls in the audience swooning over him and a couple of boys were a bit hot and bothered as well.

Michel is a kind of a refugee… he’s very bright and this would have helped him get chosen for the immigration programme although he probably didn’t let on to the officials that he wanted to be a poet.

Not long after we first met over coffee at the Wayside Chapel he told me he was straight – he probably told me that because he’d tumbled to my sexual orientation. Well most of the time you don’t have to be a Nobel Prize Laureate to work that out. But then I started to wonder about Michel when he told me that he had to have his cock and balls examined as part of the immigration process. He also told me that it was a requirement for acceptance into the programme that boys and young men had to be cut. Now this puzzled me somewhat because I knew that, although many boys are circumcised in Australia, others are intact. In fact from my own experience I would have said that a clear majority these days are uncut. However an academic researcher would probably say that my ‘sample’ was not big enough for me to make an accurate judgement. I could wish! Hah! I once shocked a friend of mine by telling him after I’d had a few too many drinks at a party that I had a target: I wanted to suck a thousand cocks off before my twenty fifth birthday. The other reason that I was slightly surprised by Michel’s revelation about his cock was that I had assumed that most Euro boys were uncut. Certainly just about all the British boys I’d been with were intact. Of course Muslim guys from Europe are another matter.

Michel was obviously very proud of his cock. He was pleased that his parents had had him cut not long after he was born otherwise he would have needed to have it done before embarking for the Land Down Under. He imagined that it could have been a fairly traumatic experience for a nineteen year old. Michel told me that his cock head was very smooth and you couldn’t really see any veins on the shaft. I was tempted to ask him to give me a look but then I remembered that we were in the coffee shop at the Wayside Chapel and it wouldn’t have seemed appropriate somehow. However my heart skipped a beat when Michel invited me back to his room.

I’ve always loved Kings Cross. Of course it’s the sinful heart of Sydney and these days you have to look out for yourself. A friend of mine was recently mugged by an out of it guy in broad daylight who threatened to inject him with AIDS if he didn’t hand over his money. The boisterous bars are always buzzing and the night clubs roar on far into the night. There’s a gentler side to the Cross as well. Older people will tell you that in the nineteen fifties it was like a quaint bohemian village with bearded philosophers and artists playing chess in the cafes. Even today there are artists who offer their work on the sidewalks.

As you weave your way through the congested, blaring streets, every now and then visions will open up before your eyes of the great city business towers in the distance, the multi-sailed opera house or sparkling vistas of the harbour. And of course – looming over everything, the Sydney Harbour Bridge. As we threaded our way through the Cross we passed groups of hookers; these were the more desperate ones who offer their wares in broad daylight. Most of them knew me by sight and had probably given up on me but as we trundled along one or two of them gave Michel their pitch. He didn’t even look at them and it crossed my mind to wonder why this gorgeous creature didn’t have a girlfriend.



The first book in my my new GAY BRILLIANCE series ‘The Boss’s Son’ has just been published on Amazon Kindle.

Young Damien Grantchester is in something of a bind after an encounter in the male rest room at their work place with his boss’s son, Shannon. Shannon has developed something of an obsession with Damien’s cock. Now normally this would be no big deal but Damien is confused. Surely Shannon is a notorious straight lothario, bedding a different girl on most nights of the week?

There could also be danger looming because of the fact that the big boss of Delta Industries (and Shannon’s dad) where Damien works is a well-known homophobe. Damien knows that he must keep the fact that he has a second job – performing in a gay club in the evenings – a secret.


Some of the boys who lived in and around Altona were jealous of Shannon’s sexual achievements and he had suffered a few drunken attacks at the Altona Hotel. Fortunately he was more than able to stick up for himself and bashed bullies sometimes added to the workload of the emergency staff at St Vincent’s Hospital of a Friday evening. Anyway, there I was in the ‘rest room’ standing next to Shannon of the almighty cock and now I was gushing piss into the stainless steel as well. No matter how much I tried I couldn’t unswivel my eyes, so they remained focussed on Shannon’s mighty cock. I could have sworn that there was a faint smile flickering on his lips but then I thought I was kidding myself… it was just wishful thinking. But then – oh, my God, I could have sworn that his dick was getting even bigger. Shannon was getting hard! Of course as soon as I realized that, my own cock started pulsing and lifting. And then – the Boss’s son by now had a broad grin which gave him an angelic and a devilish expression all in one – he pulled his short foreskin back before shaking off the last drops of piss. My own cock had by now completely filled and I was shaking off my own lingering drops. I’ve got a fairly long foreskin of which I am fairly proud, so even without thinking, I pulled it all the way back to show off my glistening head. And then I thought – was I kidding myself? Why would Shannon, the Casanova of Delta Industries be interested in that? However, angels sang in my heart when I saw Shannon look down at me and lift an eyebrow. Was that a sign of approval? Admiration? What? Or was Shannon one of those straight guys who like to tease or torture gay guys by giving them flashes of forbidden fruits? How sick! I’d read about these monsters on the net. I stood there with my swivelled eyes wondering what I should do. I could maybe just zip up, wash my hands and leave as if nothing had happened. Well, when I thought about it, nothing had happened after all. Not much anyway. But why was Shannon still standing there with his massive cock still rock hard? My eyes were rapidly feeding information to my brain to be filed away in my memory bank to assist with future wanking sessions.

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FREE BOOK Brilliant Boys: Jody and Michel


My book’Brilliant Boys: Jody and Michel’ will be available for free downloading on Amazon Kindle for three days only from Thursday the 19th of March until Saturday the 21st of March inclusive. Here is an extract-


“One of the things I liked about Josie was that she didn’t mince her words. I rattled on about Michel and his poetry and thinking back to our conversation I recall her looking at me across the candle light rather archly. She probably thought I was becoming obsessive. But that didn’t stop me…

“You should see him Josie. He’s really cute with this shaggy blonde hair…”

“Well, Euro boys”… she said rather dreamily.

“He told me his cock is cut but I haven’t managed to get a look –“

Oh my God! What the fuck? I’d completely forgotten I was talking to a GIRL.

“Aw, Jeeze, I’m sorry Josie, I didn’t think –“

“Don’t worry about it Jody” she laughed. “I feel complimented – as if I’m being treated as one of the boys.”

“You’ll be thinking I’m a real fucking pain –“

“Not a bit of it.” Now she lowered her voice to a kind of a purr. “Perhaps it’s your subconscious working on you, encouraging you to tell me how you feel about this boy.”

“You think I’m gay?”

“I know you’re gay Jody.”

“You mean that time in the park?”

“No, not then…I certainly didn’t know anything about whether people were gay or straight back then. We were just two kids playing “I’ll Show You Mine If You’ll Show Me Yours.”

“If I remember correctly I didn’t keep my side of the bargain” I said rather lamely.

“Well you were a very shy boy. I remember feeling cheated but I was a real little minx and I hope I’ve grown up a bit since then.” Josie tipped her head back and laughed. “Besides, maybe it would have been an unequal kind of a bargain.”

“What d’you mean?”

“Well in that department, down there, I’ve often felt that guys have an awful lot more to show off – once you take the cock and the balls into account.”

I was suddenly flooded by a warm emotion and I reached out across the table and took Josie’s hand. I really liked her and I was feeling magnanimous. What the hell? If I didn’t get anywhere with Michel in the near future and had to come to the regretful conclusion that he really was straight, maybe I could introduce him to Josie. Just a thought. They’d make a handsome couple I considered.

“Maybe you’d like to meet him” I said.

“Well, you know with my studies… besides I think you should persevere.”

“You reckon?”

“Sure. Why was he telling you about his cock? Perhaps he was sending you a kind of a signal. Maybe he’s just a bit shy. If he starts going on about it again insist on having a look and don’t take “no” for an answer.”

I was beginning to feel that Josie was certainly one of my favourite women and if she wanted to be an honorary “boy” that was fine with me.”

FREE BOOK: Boy Works


My recent book, Boy Works, number three in the GAY MOMENTS series, will be available for FREE download from Amazon Kindle from Thursday the 12th of March until Monday the 16th of March inclusive. Here is an extract –

“It all began at Steam Works. I’d better explain. Steam Works is actually a gay sauna situated in Sussex Street, Sydney. At a rough guess I would have to say that it’s probably one of the most luxuriously appointed gay saunas anywhere in the world. Not that I consider myself an expert but I am familiar with similar establishments in Asia and in other parts of the Land Down Under. I’ve not experienced any saunas in the Americas and I have only visited one rather grotty establishment in the Waterloo district of London during a fleeting visit. Now Vienna is another story. Whilst I was in the divine city teaching drama in an international school I got into the habit of visiting the Kaiserbrundl sauna which is situated in the old historical part of the city. Kaiserbrundl is definitely the oldest bath house in Vienna. It gets its current name from the fact that it was visited by several reigning European monarchs during the nineteenth century. The establishment has a baroque feel about it, like many of the historical buildings in Vienna. Many of the boys’ cocks that I encountered there were pretty baroque as well. I don’t think I’ve come across any more fulsome foreskins anywhere else in the world. I have a kind of a theory. I think the colder the climate, the more generous the foreskins on guys. All those folds of skin are needed to protect sensitive cock heads from icy conditions. I’ve found that as you get closer to the equator foreskins become shorter and neater. Next time you visit Singapore or Kuala Lumpur or Bangkok why not test my theory? Thai boys in particular usually have pretty short foreskins. However as you travel in a northerly direction I’ve noticed that in places like Hong Kong foreskin lengths are likely to be medium in length. Further north still on the Chinese mainland in cities like Nanjing or Beijing the skins become longer. I cannot produce any scientific evidence to support my theory, let’s just say that it’s based on personal observation. One of these days I might do a PHD on the subject. Nah, just joking.

Now this is not just a rant about a couple of my fixations, saunas and foreskins. It has a lot to do with the story I am about to tell. My name is Bryan Cooper and my day job is working as a free-lance journalist. On the side I write steamy gay erotic stories just like this one. From time to time I also work in theatre, if and when the opportunity arises, as an indie director or actor. I’ve also tried my hand at writing a couple of plays without a great deal of success. Would you believe I’ve also done quite a bit of modelling? Now I would be the first to point out that I’m no hunk. However my agent tells me that I have a kind of cute, vulnerable look that attracts the pink dollar. Well, I guess it takes all kinds…

I first heard about the Steam Works sauna when I was in my final year at Balmain Senior High School. A gay boy in my class called Steve had gone there with some boys from another school as a kind of a dare. They were thrown out by the management when one of the lads tried to take photos with his mobile phone. Steve wouldn’t tell me if he’d had his cock sucked or not. However he was able to tell me enough about the place to make me curious.”

Free Book: Australian Boy


‘Australian Boy’ from my Gay Sex Odyssey series will be available for FREE download on Amazon Kindle from Friday the 20th of Feb until Sunday 22nd of Feb. Here is a brief excerpt from the story –

“Often with the long day’s work behind us we would take our trousers off and kneel on my bed facing each other. We would start wanking and usually a bit of a game developed as we matched each other’s pace and rhythm. Usually Francisco would come first, spraying my cock and balls. Of course he knew that unspoken sexual manners dictated that he should continue pulling my cock until I too came but sometimes I felt he did this without much enthusiasm because he’d lost the urge. Often he would order me to lie on my back and spread my legs because he had a theory that this would quicken the orgasm. Occasionally he would shove a forefinger up my arse, again to quicken the process. Because of his Latino background Francisco was blessed with a generous foreskin but sometimes he wasn’t very appreciative of it.

“I’m thinking of getting myself cut Kev. D’you think I could have it done under Medicare?”

“Gee, I don’t really know Francisco. Maybe they wouldn’t consider that to be essential life-saving surgery. But for God’s sake, why would you want to do that?” I gave his cock an extra hard pull to help make my point. “Surely it’s much better to have the skin for wanking? With all the cut guys I know you have to use lube. Makes it much more awkward.”

“I dunno. Sometimes I think it looks really gross. And when I start to have real sex… whether it’s with girls or boys, won’t it get in the way?”

“Naw, you just pull the skin back before you put your cock head in the hole. Hey Francisco, maybe you should experiment. You know, go for a trial run.” Unfortunately he didn’t respond to my hint.

The Sydney Gay Hate Murders


Many Australians consider Sydney to be the most “Ozzie” of all our major cities. After all it is the birthplace, the crucible of the European settlement of the Great South Land. The colony of New South Wales was first and foremost a convict colony. In 18th century Britain justice could be brutal and final. A child could be hanged for stealing a penny or a loaf of bread. The stinking prisons and the prison ships or hulks moored on the River Thames were overflowing. One solution was to send convicts who had been spared the hangman’s noose to the other side of the world. And so the European settlement of Australia began.

Sydney has often been described as one of the most gay-friendly cities in the world. However it hasn’t always been like that. Today the annual Gay and Lesbian Mardis Gras parade is one of the most renowned outdoor events on the planet. However when it was first established – the first Mardis Gras happened in 1979 – it was in the face of fierce political and police opposition. Many of the brave original marchers ended up in jail, some of them after a severe bashing. Today many proud gay and lesbian police officers take their places in the parade. Many of the original marchers saw their participation as an act of protest because, of course, at that time same-sex sexual activity was against the law.

The first case of AIDS was diagnosed in 1980. In Australia there was a very effective media campaign to alert the population to the perils of unsafe sex. A graphic television commercial was set in a hellish bowling alley. Men, women and children were the human pins – being bowled over by a hideous Grim Reaper figure dripping with filth. The Reaper was intended to represent the AIDS virus. No one whoi saw the commercial could ever forget the expressioin of abject terror on the face of a little girl in the front row of “pins”. Unfortunately the campagn had an unintended side effect – the television commercial gave many people the impression that all gay men were Grim Reapers and that they all had AIDS.

From the early eighties through to the mid nineties Sydney had a spate of what came to be known as the Sydney Gay Hate Murders. Spate? It was more like an epidemic! At first the city seemed to be in denial. Police investigators and coroners insisted that many of the gay boys and young men whose corpses had been discovered on rocks beneath massive cliffs had met accidental death or had committed suicide. However one private investigator who was hired by the family of a brilliant young mathematician whose body was discovered beneath cliffs at Manly said; “Young  men do not go to gay beats to commit suicide. Period.” Eventually investigators came to the realization that more than eighty gay boys and young men had been murdered.

The New South Welsh police force at the time was obviously riddled with chronic homophobia. Many officers had the attitude that if gay men were severely bashed or even killed then “they had it coming to them.” Gay guys at the time were extremely reluctant to report assaults to the police because more often than not they would be dragged into the cells and given another bashing.

The following excerpt is from my new novella ‘Brilliant Boys: Icebergs’ avaiable from Amazon Kindle.

‘We drove over in my Holden and parked close to the Iceberg’s club house. Robert Ambrose our survivor led the way along Notts Avenue and then onto the Bondi – Tamarama walkway. At the same time I wondered if Robert would find re-visiting the horror site distressing. He turned and looked out at the ocean.

‘You know, looking at all this sparkling beauty it’s sometimes difficult to imagine how such evil acts could have occurred here” he said.

“Can you remember the actual date?”

“Never forget it. The twenty-eighth of January 1993. It was a Friday night. I’d gone out for a jog starting off at Marks Park just along the coast there.” Robert grabbed his ample stomach and laughed. “I was on a kind of a health kick in those days. Yeah, just out for a jog, the thought of sex hadn’t really crossed my mind. Then I heard all this shouting and laughing… sounded like young people coming towards me from the direction of Bondi. I thought they were probably just a bunch of school kids out partying on the beach. Then I saw them. There were about fifteen boys and four girls. The boy who appeared to be their leader spoke to me – “Hey man, are you gay?” They were crowding around me, some of them still laughing. At this stage I thought it was some kind of a game they were playing. Then the ring-leader turned to one of his mates and said ‘Hey, let’s throw this faggot off the cliffs where we tossed the Asian poof.” Several of the boys grabbed hold of me and although I put up a struggle it was hopeless. Laughing and joshing they were dragging me over to the cliff top. Their girlfriends were cheering them on. Then my God – miracle of miracles! Two of the creeps slipped on the gravel over there, lost their balance and tumbled, dragging their mates with them. I took off like the wind but of course they were hot on my heels. I went climbing up those steps over there to Hunter Park.”

Robert went towards the steps before Tommy stopped him.

“Hang on a minute Rob, I just want to get a few shots. Can you climb up a few steps and then look towards me?”

The Survivor nodded and took up his position. Triple Chins nodded his satisfaction and clicked off several shots. He also took a few of yours truly. Seemingly satisfied the photographer put his lens cap on and Robert continued to climb the steps. When we reached the top he gestured towards a row of houses and said, “See that place there? The one with the red tiles. With the gang still hot on my heels I knew I was still in mortal danger so I screamed at a middle-aged guy I saw standing on that balcony. ‘For God’s sake call the cops! There are killers after me…’ And you know what the cunt said? He said, ‘Fuck off, I don’t help poofters.’ He then went inside and turned off the lights. Somehow I managed to get onto Notts Avenue and I made it to the Icebergs Club. I knew the little shits wouldn’t follow me in there.”

“You think I should get a shot of the bastard’s house?” said Tommy.

“Not much point” Robert replied. “It was such a long time ago there could be different people living there now.”

Triple Chins was scratching his head. “You ever felt you wanted to take revenge against the shit on the balcony?”

Robert laughed. “Well several of my friends suggested we should burn his bloody house to the ground and I must say I was sorely tempted… but nah, that guy’s attitude was typical. I guess there were a lot of people at the time who thought that all gay guys were going to die of AIDS anyway so why not dispose of them by chucking them over the cliffs? Much cheaper than having them die in our lovely hospitals.” Robert gave another mirthless laugh and the thought crossed my mind that perhaps he had cultivated the frivolous campness he was exhibiting in the café to mask a great bitterness that had fallen over him since that horrific night.