Oz Beach Boy Looks for His Father

"We found a tough guy, girls!" howled the first woman. "A tough Yank!"

"I bet he won't feel so tough when we're finished with him!" laughed the second woman. "Get him, girls!"

The group of women then violently ripped off Jack's clothes and underwear, and began rubbing his muscular body while mocking and grabbing at his enormous cock and jiggling balls. The women went for him in a sexual frenzy, and I laughed quietly at Jack's truly awful acting.

"Hey, who do you think you are?" Jack said in his thick New York accent as the women went for him. "What are you Aussie bitches doing? Get your goddamn hands off me! I ain't up for grabs! I'll bust you all in the fuckin' chops!"

Jack very soon, of course, started to get into it, and the video then became a standard limo swap-around, with Jack fucking the women one at a time in various positions while the others kissed and fondled each other's big tits in the background.

Stunned that Jack "Bull" Tyson had visited Australia, I was also wholly absorbed in the sexy video. With its rapacious women, it was exactly the kind of scenario I liked to find myself in...and actually had found myself in on more than a few occasions.

I was totally into the video, and still so shocked by how much I resembled Jack "Bull" Tyson, that I failed to hear my girlfriend, Odessa Prince, come through the front door and then into my office, obviously and immediately drawn by the sounds of sexual activity.

"What the fuck?" Odessa said in shock and confusion, obviously looking over my shoulder at the computer screen. "You told me you'd never done porn! You said you'd never done paid sex work! You fucking liar! And why are you watching yourself? Are you actually whacking off to a porno of yourself?"

"It's not me," I said, and turned around to face my gorgeous but furious Lynda Carter-lookalike girlfriend. "It's not me, Odessa."

"Are you serious?" Odessa said angrily, her thick, dark ponytail flying back and forth as she pointed violently at the computer screen. "That's your excuse? That it's not you? What do you think I am? A fucking idiot? I can see you on the screen, dickhead!"

"It's not me, Odessa," I said quietly. "I think it's my father."

Matt fills Odessa in...

"What?" Odessa asked after a long pause, her anger suddenly diffusing, with confusion quickly taking its place. "What are you talking about? You don't know who your father is...what's going on?"

I took Odessa into the living room, sat her on the couch, and poured her a large glass of wine. I then told Odessa everything, beginning with Andre Kingman's surprising reveal at Little Congwong Beach and then taking her right through to where she'd found me on the computer.

"I can't believe it," Odessa said. "Do you think it could be true?"

"We look so much alike," I replied. "He even has a birthmark like mine on his lower back."

"God, show me another video so I can have a better look," Odessa said quietly.

We went back into the office, and I clicked on the link to That's Not A Cock, This Is A Cock. The video began with a scene featuring Jack and an Australian actor as bush guides leading a group of women (many of them returning performers from Taken Down Under) through a forest and then out onto a secluded beach.

The sexually excited women end up stripping the two male tour guides completely naked, and when Jack's enormous cock is finally revealed, he looks at his Aussie colleague's decidedly smaller appendage, and ridiculously utters the title line in his thick New York accent in a very stupid play on the famous Crocodile Dundee movie quote.

The Aussie tour guide ends up getting pegged and humiliated by half the women, while Jack lines the remaining half up and then fucks them one by one on the beach. The video then ends with Jack making the male Aussie tour guide blow him while the women watch and laugh...very far from wholesome, and a little disturbing to boot.

After watching the two videos, it eventually became clear why Jack "Bull" Tyson hadn't achieved greater success and notoriety in the adult film world: despite his handsome face, great body, and enormous cock, Jack not only couldn't act, but he also had something of a charmless, slightly unpleasant on-screen presence. There was a real brutality and intensity to Jack "Bull" Tyson...if he'd ever crossed over into normal movies, his only possible roles would have been as nasty bad guys.

"Charming," Odessa said sneeringly once the tasteless clip finished. "Nice video...geez, he really does look like you though, Matt. That could literally be you in the video. I honestly thought it was. You're identical. It's uncanny. Plus, there's the dick...and the birthmark too...it's too much of a coincidence."

"I know, I know," I responded. "And Jack was right here in Australia in the 1990's...around the time I was born. It's too much. Could it really be?"

"It could, Matt," Odessa replied. "You could be the very tasty fruit of Jack 'Bull' Tyson's very impressive loins!"

"Maybe, huh?" I said in shock. "Holy shit..."

"Matt, I know you don't like to," Odessa said with a frown, "but I think you're going to have to talk to your mother. She's the only one who might know. It's all with her. If you want answers, she might have them."

"Oh, fuck," I said with a sigh. "You're right, Odessa...as usual. Fuck, I don't want to...but let's go and see Tiffany."

Matt and Odessa learn more about Jack "Bull" Tyson...

The following day, Odessa and I were in my car making the one-hour-plus trip to Gosford, north of Sydney, where my biological mother, Tiffany, lived in a tiny one-bedroom unit, and tried desperately to stay away from drugs and alcohol. A longtime casualty of addiction, Tiffany had spent much of her adult life either totally strung out or in some kind of painful withdrawal and rehab.

As my mother told me in our brief phone chat the previous day, she'd currently been off the speed, ice, smack, and booze for six months, but she still smoked the occasional spliff and sucked the occasional cock for cash too, which wasn't too bad a situation for Tiffany to be in considering her shitty history.

For so many reasons, I was not overly fond of my mother, and I tried to take my mind off our impending, ever-closer visit by instead focusing, rather ironically, on my apparently not much better possible father, Jack "Bull" Tyson.

As Odessa drove, I had another look at the old fan website, which had already provided me with a small wealth of information. Not wanting to watch any more of my possible father's seamy video output, I instead clicked on the intriguing link "Help Jack"...which provided me with another face-slap level shock.

The web page that came up featured a poorly scanned reprint of a small, old newspaper article titled "Porn Star Kills Five In Botched Robbery." Once again, my jaw dropped open. Per the story, Jack "Bull" Tyson -- named as a "minor porn actor", "petty criminal" and "drug user" -- had been arrested following a failed bank robbery in Bakersfield, California in November 1998, during which he shot two security guards and three police officers with a sawn-off shotgun while attempting to escape the scene.

All five men eventually died, along with Jack's accomplice, Pete "Sneaky" Peterson, who was killed while fleeing the scene in a stolen car with the takings from the robbery. When his vehicle crashed, Peterson got out shooting, and was gunned down by the pursuing police.

High on crack, Jack "Bull" Tyson fled the scene of the robbery on foot after shooting two security guards inside the bank. He shot and killed three police officers pursuing him, and shot and injured seven other officers. Jack also assaulted another man while attempting to steal his car, but was apprehended and severely beaten by police before he could drive off.

Beneath the newspaper article was a little more info from the website administrator, which stated that Jack "Bull" Tyson was currently serving multiple life sentences in Pelican Bay State Prison for his crimes, and would never be released. There was a dead-linked button providing the obviously no longer existing opportunity to contribute to some kind of fund to purchase gifts for Jack in prison.

I was utterly shocked and staggered. My possible father was not only an American straight/gay porn actor, he was also a murdering, cop-killing bank robber with a violent history of petty crime and drug use. To put it mildly, I did not come from good stock.

"What's up, lover?" Odessa asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"The plot thickens, babe," I replied with a sigh, and recounted the whole bizarre, horribly bloody story to a shocked Odessa.

"Matt, lover...do you want to end this right here?" my smart, beautiful, sensible, caring girlfriend asked. "We can turn around, go home, and be done with it. Do you even want to know if this guy is your father, Matt? He sounds like a fucking psycho!"

"I feel like I'm in it up to my neck now," I responded with a sigh. "I know too much...I can't stop now."

"Okay, then," Odessa said, her jaw clenched and her eyes locked on the road ahead. "Let's go and see your mama."

Matt and Odessa visit Matt's mother, Tiffany...

Half-an-hour later, Odessa and I knocked on the door of my biological mother's apartment, which was located on the bottom floor of a block surrounded by long, uncut, grass, discarded, broken-down furniture, and mounting piles of rubbish.

"Matthew, my boy," my mother, Tiffany, said with a pained smile as she opened the door, and welcomed us inside. "How are you?"

"I'm good, Tiffany," I replied. "How are you?"

"Still alive, mate," Tiffany responded with a sigh. "I don't know how..."

"Tiffany, this is my girlfriend, Odessa," I said, and put my hand gently on Odessa's shoulder.

"Holy shit," Tiffany said with a laugh. "You're a ridiculously good-lookin' couple! Look at ya! A pair of fuckin' beauties! I don't know who's prettier!"

"Thanks, Tiffany...it's nice to meet you," Odessa said quietly with a smile.

Her long, sandy-brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, and her thin body covered up by a hoodie and sweat-pants, 51-year-old Tiffany looked as good as I'd ever seen her. Her brown eyes were lively and sparkling, and though her face was prematurely lined and creased, it was still wholly obvious that Tiffany had once been a very, very attractive woman.

I only kept in very occasional contact with Tiffany, sending her the odd text to check on her, and sharing a phone call every now and then. We only saw each other in person about once a year. I carried a lot of resentment toward Tiffany for leaving me and landing me in the care of people like Stewart and Sharon Whittington, so our relationship, if you could even call it that, was far from warm.

A sad and desperate Tiffany did regain custody of me on a couple of briefly optimistic occasions in my early teens, but she always fucked up, lapsed, and ended up back on the gear and in trouble with the cops, which sent me hurtling back into that uncertain, often dangerous world of state institutions and foster care.

Odessa and I sat down on the couch in the living room of Tiffany's small, sparsely decorated, but clean and well-ordered apartment. My mother looked to be doing okay. We chatted freely and casually for about half-an-hour. Odessa and Tiffany felt each other out, and we made small talk and caught up on what we'd been doing. Tiffany had been through rehab, and claimed to be doing well.

"Tiffany, I need to ask you some questions," I finally said after we'd settled in. "I'm here for a reason. I think I might have found out who my father is."

"Oh, fuck, really?" Tiffany said, scowling and lighting up a cigarette. "How the fuck do you figure that? I fucked so many guys in my twenties even I don't know who your father is. He could be anyone."

As Tiffany blew cigarette smoke all over us, I recounted everything to her, beginning with Andre Kingman's initial discovery of Jack "Bull" Tyson, and all of the things I'd subsequently discovered, including the smalltime porn actor's trip to Australia in the 1990s. I brought up an image of Jack "Bull" Tyson on my phone, and held it up for Tiffany to see.

"Without wanting to sound too indelicate," I said with a weak smile. "Did you ever have sex with this guy?"

"Fuck, isn't that you?" Tiffany asked. "You're asking if I fucked you? I'm not that fuckin' bent!"

"No, Tiffany, it's not me...that's the point," I replied, and then swiped through to the video excerpts from That's Not A Cock, This Is A Cock, hoping some images of a naked Jack might jog my mother's drug-shrouded memory.

Dragging on her cigarette, Tiffany giggled as she watched Jack and his Australian co-star get stripped by the group of women on the beach. Her lively eyes widened and her jaw dropped when she finally saw Jack's muscled body and enormous cock revealed.

"Oh, well, fuck me," Tiffany exclaimed. "Oh, fuck me...shit. Shit, Matthew...I had a threesome with both those guys. The big guy's tadpoles must have made it up me! You're lucky it wasn't the other bloke...look at his little dick! Have you got a whopper like this American bloke, Matthew?"

"Um," I said uncertainly and uncomfortably, not really wanting to talk about my penis with Tiffany.

"Odessa...does he?" Tiffany asked urgently, blowing cigarette smoke everywhere. "Is Matthew's willy as big as that?"

"Yes," Odessa replied shyly and awkwardly. "They're alike in every way. They even have the same birthmark."

"Holy fuck," Tiffany said. "My drug dealer supplied the whole cast and crew of that porno with coke. He invited me to the cast party. I fucked four guys on the crew, plus two of the girls, and then had a threesome with those two fellas, all on the same night."

"Holy shit," I muttered.

"Plus, I'd been gang-banged at another party the night before," Tiffany continued. "I fucked a lot of guys that week, Matthew...I wasn't exactly careful either. I never even thought you might have been the American's. I'd forgotten all about him until you showed me that video. I did so many drugs, and so many guys, in the nineties...it's all just a blur. Fuckin' hell, Matthew."

"Geez," I sighed in shock. "Holy shit..."

"Your mum liked to party, Matthew," Tiffany said with a naughty wink. "I've fucked hundreds of guys. Looks like you got lucky, my boy...at least the one that got me up the duff was a looker with a big dong!"

"I don't know if I feel that lucky," I responded, and then filled Tiffany in on the violent details of what ended up happening to Jack "Bull" Tyson.

"Fuck...he was a wild one, huh?" Tiffany asked with a laugh. "Your papa is an outlaw, Matthew! You got some bad genes, my boy...but you look like you turned out okay."

"I don't know about that," I said, instantly thinking of my kinky tastes and sex addiction, which I'd very likely inherited from my parents.

"You seem like a good boy, Matthew," Tiffany smiled, and pointed at Odessa. "You've pulled this one, so you must be doing something right. It takes more than a big dong to hold onto a beauty like her."

"He's a good guy," Odessa said quietly. "He's a sweetheart."

"He ever hit ya?" Tiffany asked.

"Nobody hits me," Odessa responded firmly. "But no, Matt's certainly never tried."

"Good boy," Tiffany said. "What are ya gonna do, Matthew? Are ya gonna get in touch with your old man?"

"Yeah, I think I might...I might just do that," I replied after a long pause.

"Well, you give him a kiss from me," Tiffany said with a laugh, cigarette smoke seeping from the corners of her crinkled mouth.

Odessa, Tiffany and I chatted for an hour or so, and when the conversation started to peter out, we politely called it quits. We all hugged and kissed, and I genuinely hoped that my seriously fucked up mother could continue to stay on the straight and narrow and live the best life she possibly could.

"Goodbye, Matthew, my boy," Tiffany said as Odessa and I left. "I hope you find what you're looking for with Jack...I really do. I'm sorry, Matthew, I truly am...for everything."

Matt begins his journey toward Jack "Bull" Tyson...

My mother had left me with little more than a ridiculous surname, a lifetime of pain, and now, it would appear, the genetic seeds of an addiction to sex. Despite that, I couldn't help but feel a great sense of sadness for Tiffany and her horribly fucked up life. A few tears rolled down my cheeks as I got into my car, this time with Odessa in the passenger seat.

"Are you okay, Matt?" Odessa asked after a long period of silence. "That was hard. Nobody wants to hear that kind of stuff from their mother...Tiffany was a pretty loose unit, huh?"

"Oh, yeah...and my father is a cop-killing maniac," I responded quietly. "But I want to make a connection with him...I don't know why...it's just a strange kind of need...I can feel it burning inside me."

The following night, Odessa and I went out to a wonderful Italian restaurant called Marasso with my best friend and one-time foster sister Darby Hamilton, who very happily brought along Odessa's friend Callie Jessup.

To our utter delight, Darby and Callie confirmed that they were now in a relationship, and they couldn't have looked sweeter or happier together. I internally (and, yes, arrogantly) congratulated myself for bringing these two gorgeous girls together.

As soon as we got to the restaurant and sat down at our table, I took Darby and Callie through the bizarre story in its entirety. Cutely holding hands, the two young women looked at me in shock and occasional confusion through the whole strange tale.

"For god's sake, Matt," Darby said as she forked a large portion of seafood pasta, "your life just gets weirder and weirder."

I have always confided in Darby on just about everything, so she knew all about my sordid and often very freaky sexual history, and from the look on her face, she obviously felt this deranged new development regarding my parentage was just pretty much par for the course...another weird chapter in the peculiar book of my life.

"I know, huh?" I asked as I cut into my steak. "I'm still in shock about it all."

"Are you going to look into reaching out to this Jack 'Bull' Tyson fellow?" Darby asked. "Do you want to meet him or connect with him?"

"Yeah, I've decided I will," I replied. "As supportive and kind as ever, Odessa has already been in touch with her father in Perth, who has agreed to help out."

"My dad is in prison management...Big Bill Prince," Odessa said. "He's an old-school tough guy. He was a homicide cop for a long time, and then he moved into prisons, where he's been even more successful."

"It still surprises me that your old man is a hard-arse, Odessa," Callie said, shaking her head. "I always thought your dad would be a writer or teacher or something."

"No, he's a hard-nut," Odessa responded. "Dad hasn't had to pull any strings or anything, but he's just made the whole process a lot smoother. He's arranged all the paperwork, but Matt still has to fill it all out...and there's a lot. There'll likely be a Zoom call set up. Prisons are more open to that these days."

"I have to state my case and make my claim," I explained. "They'll do some background checks, and all the rest of it. Mr. Prince said he'd help with that."

"Mr. Prince," Odessa said with a giggle. "He'd like that. Keep that up, Matt."

"Always, babe," I responded with a smile. "Always."

We laughed and joked all through the rest of dinner, and when we finally left Marasso and walked out into the cold winter air, Darby gave me a big, tight, warm hug, and then pulled me briefly aside. My best friend looked up at me and smiled.

"No matter what happens, you're still you," Darby said quietly. "Just because you've got this lunatic's blood running through your veins, it doesn't mean that's who you are. You meet him and talk to him, but you don't have to take anything he says to heart. You never have to see him again if you don't want to. It's up to you, Matt."