Free Beer & Sex by Mike Dixon - HTML preview

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2 Toy boy


It's not a role that would appeal to everyone and not all young guys are cut out for it.  Sufficient to say that a demand exists for the sort of company a younger male can provide for an older female.

Strictly speaking, it's not a job but it does have many similarities.  There is no formal contract and remuneration comes in the form of financial support.  Your companion pays for your meals and accommodation and may even finance the odd plane trip.  As with mud wrestling, no work visa is required and you don't have to report gifts to the tax office.

From time to time, we had a toy boy staying at our hostel.  They were usually well-spoken young men in their late teens.  Most came from English speaking countries but that's not a necessary requirement.  Don't worry if you hardly speak the language.  No one is going to ask you to give English lessons.  Other requirements are far more important.

Getting employed is largely a matter of chance.  There are recruitment agencies specialising in male escorts but the job description is different and the title is "gigolo".  Gigolos are experienced professionals who provide a service.  Toy boys are inexperienced amateurs who receive one.

Most of our toy boys were Australian but a spattering came from the UK and Canada.  The typical candidate was bronzed, athletic and unworldly.  They gave the impression of having lived a life of total innocence until picked up by a thirty-plus lady from the other side of the world.  The term to describe her male equivalent is sugar daddy.  I like sugar mamma but will stick to modern terminology and refer to the ladies as cougars ... after the big cat of the same name.

The most memorable of our cougars was Renata.  I became aware of her presence when a worried mum from Melbourne phoned to inquire about her eighteen-year-old son, Robin.  Mum was unhappy about the company he was keeping and it was a while before she disclosed that Robin had gone off with an older woman whom he'd met at a schoolies party.

At this point, I should explain that schoolies parties are held for school leavers.  They are an annual event and of great concern to parents and teachers who worry about older males that gatecrash the parties and prey on young girls.  I wondered if anyone was keeping a lookout for older females.

Renata and Robin were on a scuba diving trip when mum phoned.  I assured her that they had gone out with a good dive company and were in competent hands but that did little to calm her fears.  In the end, I agreed to speak to Robin on his return.

I cornered the young man in the hostel garden, sipping a coke and sarsaparilla and looking totally at peace with the world.  There was no sign of Renata.

"How was the diving?"

I asked to get the conversation going.


"How did your friend like it?"


It wasn't much of a reply and I decided that Robin was a man of few words.  But I needn't have worried.  He was soon waxing lyrically on Renata's charms.  At thirty-five she was almost twice his age.  That didn't worry Robin.  He was clearly flattered by her attention.

He told me that his friend was a company accountant from Hamburg and she was in Australia for her Christmas break.  Renata lived in a fabulous apartment and knew lots of famous people.  They'd had a fantastic time together and he'd learnt a lot from her.  The last remark came with a touch of shyness and I didn't ask for details.

It seemed that his dream encounter was coming to an end.  Renata would soon be returning to Germany.  Her company was negotiating a big contact and her financial skills were needed.  She boarded a plane a few days later and Robin returned to Melbourne in good health and apparently no worse for wear.

I thought I had seen the last of Renata but I was wrong.  She'd enjoyed her stay with us and turned up at Christmas two years running.  The hostel was a fruitful hunting ground and she managed to find a young companion on both occasions.  Her preference was for fresh-faced young men from sheltered backgrounds.

Not all cougars share Renata's tastes.  Some like their young men tough and brawny.  Others go for a more delicate model.  There are opportunities for most young guys so long as they remember the two golden rules of cougar hunting.

1) Don't brag about your conquests (real or imaginary).

2) Don't pretend to be older than you are.

Remember that the last thing a cougar wants is age and experience.


PS.  A friend from Japan tells me that a different sort of cougar stalks her country.  The Japanese version goes after adolescent boys but otherwise displays the same features as its Western cousins.