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Warning : This website may contain material unsuitable for those of a prudish disposition. If the shameless portrayal of vigorous male sexuality is not to your liking, then perhaps it's best to switch off the computer, make yourself a strong pot of tea or have a good lie down. For the rest of you with a more liberal attitude towards watching strapping men engaging in all manner of debauched acts, please feel free to continue.

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Lady Jane Beach

For those among you of a more exhibitionistic nature there is nothing quite so refreshing as baring all to the world, whilst satisfying one’s carnal desires in a natural setting. Certainly I have oft been known to take advantage of such situations whenever possible. One of my favourite spots for this indulgence would be Lady Bay Beach – or simply Lady Jane to the locals – in Sydney.

A wonderful little harbour beach with a stunning view, it’s a perfect place to frolic in the water and sunbake au naturel, before going off to explore in the bushes and amongst the rocks in the search of a bit of fun with your fellow man. It can be a bit troublesome to get to without a car – unless you’re an avid devotee of long bus rides – but it is well worth the effort.

HustlaBall Berlin

I’m proud to say that I recently attended my first HustlaBall weekend in Berlin and lived to tell the tale. Of course there were many highlights and much partying over the festive period but I shall limit today’s missive to the action of the actual HustlaBall itself – well I’ve got to leave a little something to the imagination after all.

Granted the thought of a delightfully debauched and thoroughly dirty dance party in Berlin isn’t a particularly novel concept but I had been told that this one was definitely one not to miss. All the barely clothed, strapping specimens of manhood everywhere one looked and sheer brazenness of it all reminded me of the grand old days of the Sleaze Ball, back when Sydney still knew how to party. There was even a fire-breathing dragon from memory but that could have been a hallucination although in Berlin one can never be too sure.

Gym Louvre Paris.

Gyms have always been delightful bastions of homoerotic wonder to me. All that straining, pumping, grunting in a testosterone filled room is almost more than one can bear. Not to mention the tremendous amount of time spent flexing in front of the mirror. This gym in particular is more than just a place to get fit; indeed, it’s a veritable smorgasbord of stunning specimens of manhood. Popular with tourists and locals alike, it is your one stop shop for fitness and sex.

Granted it will always hold a special place in my heart, seeing it’s where I first encountered my beloved husband, consequently sending my life on a completely new and exciting tangent – but that’s a tale for another day.