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Friday, November 03, 2006


Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.

Actually, I didn’t, but I did dream I was lying on top of Russell Brand, my naked body against his; the hardness of his cock pressing against my damp crotch; our lips entwined in a passionate kiss as we began to grind our hips together and fucked each other with intensity. It was a nice dream, and ended as all good ones should: with my fingers between my legs, and a smile on my face.

“Russell Brand: yes or no?” a friend asked me over some beers the other night.

“Yes; definitely.”

He looked incredulous at my response. “Why?! Please don’t tell me you like him for what he does on telly?”

I shook my head. “Nope. His Big Brother stuff irritated the hell out of me – though he is a very talented stand-up comic; you should check him out.”

“But he’s a knob! He looks like a prat.”

I shrugged. “Well, admittedly he’s not my type: scrawny and lanky doesn’t really do it for me; I much prefer a man with some meat on him. Plus he seriously needs to brush his fucking hair… But it’s not his looks that make me want to shag him.”

“If not that, then what? Please, enlighten me…”

I took a sip of my drink. “There’s one reason, and one reason only, that I would fuck Russell Brand.”

“Because he’s got a big cock?”

“Oh please, cock size is so fucking irrelevant. As long as it was visible, and worked, I really couldn’t give a shit what a penis looked like, or how big it was.”

“OK then; he’s supposed to be great in bed, right? Is that why you’d shag him?”

I shook my head again. “No. Whilst I don’t doubt he’s probably a great lay, that’s not the sole reason I would fuck him.”

“Why then? Come on, I want to hear this…”

“Because, my dear, Russell is not threatened by other men’s sexuality. He is confident enough to be able to flirt with men, as well as women, and knows that by doing so, it doesn’t undermine his masculinity – regardless of his sexual orientation. So by being relaxed about it, he’s saying he’s OK with other men and their desires, as well as his own. That’s a very attractive trait to have: a man that is not a bigot, or a homophobe, or who worries what people might think of him if he flirts with blokes. A man like that is going to be open-minded, and, almost by definition, will then be interesting in bed. Ergo, I want to shag him.”

“Hmm. I’ve never heard it put quite that way: that’s a very interesting argument. So you’re basically saying, he’s got a David Walliams factor to him: ie. could possibly swing both ways…?”

“I guess, though I don’t think Russell does, but it’s the fact that he doesn’t give a fuck that people might pigeonhole him as gay when he flirts with guys, that makes him so sexy, in my opinion. Him knowing – and playing upon – the fluidity of his sexuality with others, makes him shaggable. So yeah, I would. And I bet many other women would too – for those exact same reasons.”

“I can see your point now, yeah...”

We sipped our drinks and I decided to keep quiet about the fact that besides fucking him myself, I’d also love to see Russell doing another guy up the arse: there’s a time and place for exploring my threesome-with-two-men fantasy, and it certainly wasn’t then.

Though last night was pretty timely, if I do say so myself - even if it was just a dream.

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