Mixing business and pleasure

Last week I had to go on a business trip. At the end of the week, boyfriend T was able to join me, so together we headed off for a fun weekend next to the sea. But can anyone work out where we were from the pictures below? And for extra marks, in the bottom picture can anyone say what the tents on the beach were for?

David Barton

I started going to the gym regularly a long time ago. Over the years I've noticed that I go through phases of good levels of attendance, with occasional phases of lower attendance when I get hit by heavy workloads, business trips, holidays, injuries or illness. Since I joined my new gym though, I've been going through a particularly good phase, so in anticipation of my forthcoming business trip I was keen to find a way to try and keep it up while in New York.

"Do you know of any good gyms in NYC?" I asked boyfriend P a couple of weeks ago before my trip.

"I'm sure there are loads," he replied, "It depends what you want?"

"Well somewhere interesting would be nice, perhaps in Chelsea? Isn't that where all the gay guys hang out these days?"

"Maybe you should try the David Barton gym then? From what I've heard it's very gay and full-on, with lots of porn stars, escorts and celebs going there!"

Perfect :-). Sounds exactly like the kind of place that a disreputable blogger like me should be seen at!

So on my second evening in New York, I get my first surprise when I turn up outside the David Barton gym in Chelsea. It's in an old YMCA building! Once inside, a charming young woman shows me round the main gym areas.

"The cardio equipment and the studios for classes are all here on the main floor," she explains, "and the weights are all down in the basement. Actually tonight is a good night to visit because there's a DJ :-)."

I've certainly never heard of that before, a gym with a DJ mixing up rhythms to exercise to!

The changing rooms turn out to be on the first floor. Although I'm not quite sure where to go, I spot MEN painted in huge two feet high letters on one of the walls so I follow the wall round into the changing rooms. It seems very empty in there, and then suddenly I get a shock. I spot a woman who's just about to take off her gym shoes! But what on earth is a woman doing in the men's changing rooms, unless ... ? I hastily retreat, only to be greeted by another woman who's entering as I'm leaving:

"Excuse me, are you lost?" she asks with a tone of voice which suggests mild irritation.

"Errrr, yes, I think so!" I reply, not sure what to say. Somehow I've obviously ended up in the women's changing rooms :-(.

But how on earth did I make that mistake? Looking again at the MEN painted in huge letters on the wall, I realise all too late that when I spotted it I'd already walked past the first two letters of the word, namely the 'W' and the 'O'! Putting my error down to mild jet lag, I take the other path now and thankfully find myself inside the Men's changing rooms. In contrast to the women's locker room it's very crowded.

I end up going for a 20 minute run before heading down into the basement to find the free weights. The floor at the bottom of the stairs is packed full of exercise machines, with a huge rack of free weights along the back wall, and a big old YMCA sign propped up along one of the other walls. As I wander around to get my bearings, I realise that it's 99% men, if not more. Some are chatting with each other, but many more are single guys spending a good proportion of their time looking at all the other guys, including me! Coupled with the beat of the DJ's music I realise that I could be in a gay dance club, at the start of the evening when the music is less hardcore.

On cue, I notice a couple of well built guys joking with each other in the free weights area. Both are wearing quite skimpy gym vests, which certainly show off their huge muscles to good effect. They put their arms around each other ballroom dancing style, and then move their legs backwards and forwards while looking at themselves in the mirrors, as one of them tries to teach the other guy something. Somehow it seems perfectly in tune with the relaxed cruisey gay atmosphere. This definitely isn't a straight gym!

After my workout I head back to the changing rooms, wondering whether there are any spa facilities. Sure enough, at the back of the shower area I find a steam room. Inside the steam is really thick, so thick that I find myself bumping into another guy who's standing right next to me. Gradually the steam clears slightly, and I notice that there's seating at two levels along the walls. Most guys are wearing towels around their waist, although a couple of the guys who're seated have let their towels slip a bit, allowing the rest of us a peek at their wares :-). Just as the steam seems to have cleared enough to be able to see one end of the room from the other, I hear the hissing of fresh steam again as the next cycle begins.

In my experience, for cruising purposes this very thick steam is simultaneously a hindrance and a blessing. The problem with it is that it's hard to make contact with other like-minded guys, because when one can hardly see the guy who's standing next to you eye-contact is obviously difficult too! However the good thing about very thick steam is that if one does find a willing participant, no one else can see what you get up to, which makes activities possible even in quite crowded circumstances.

After a couple of steam cycles I head for the showers. I'm meeting boyfriend P for supper in a restaurant a few blocks away and I don't want to be late. But I certainly found my visit to the David Barton gym in Chelsea very enjoyable. If I ever move to live over in New York for a while, I might even become a member!

Another business trip outside of the UK

Last year, on one of the business trips that I took outside of the UK, I took a photograph of an infamous gay establishment and posted it to see whether any readers could identify it. I was very impressed, because it only took a couple of hours for someone to work it out. Since then however, this blog has changed its focus a bit, so that I now tend to write less about the aspect of my life that might involve me visiting places like that!

Anyway, the reason for last Monday's post about long haul flights was that business class travel was in my mind as a result of another business trip. But can anyone identify where I was this time from the pic below? Needless to say, if you're one of the guys who I've actually told where I was going, then you can't play!

An amusing and surprising day

I hadn't been to the gay interbank drinks since last November when I went with my friend P. In December I was away on holiday with boyfriend number 2, and then I had other commitments which prevented me from attending in January, so I was looking forward to going along in February :-). But in early February, a colleague asks me to go an a business trip with him.

"GB, I need to visit a client in Geneva, and it would be good if you could join me because I know they'd like to hear your views on their situation :-)."

As soon as he tells me the date I know that it's the interbank drinks in the evening, so I make an alternative suggestion.

"OK, perhaps we should have a conference call with them then, wouldn't it be better to discuss this now rather than later in the month?"

"But they're a very important client, and meetings always go better face to face. And you'll get a good lunch out of it!"

Ahhh well, business has to come first of course. Anyway, since it's just going to be a day trip, I may get back in time to go to the interbank drinks after all.

The day itself turns out to be quite amusing, beginning as soon as I leave my house. A Swedish woman is trying to persuade my pre-booked taxi to take her to Heathrow.

"Sorry, I thought you were MY taxi," I hear her saying as I'm walking up to the cab, "I don't know where my taxi is. If I wait any longer I'll miss my plane."

Since my Geneva flight is flying from Heathrow anyway, I agree to let her share my cab. But as we're approaching Heathrow, I use my PDA's Internet connection to check which terminal her flight is leaving from.

"Err, I think you've got a problem," I tell her, "According to this your flight leaves from London City Airport, not Heathrow!"

London City Airport is East London, Heathrow is West London, so she's stuffed! And she's not able to share the cab fare with me either, because she's got no cash, only a credit card, and this particular cab only takes cash. I've got my own flight to catch of course, so I give the cabbie a bit extra to take her to the Heathrow terminal that's most likely to help her, and say goodbye. What a disaster area she was, no taxi, no cash, and wrong airport anyway!

Once in Switzerland, I need to take a short train journey and a short cab ride to reach the client. But on the train, an old woman starts asking my advice about how to get to the place where she's agreed to meet her son.

"Should I take a taxi, or walk?" she asks. "I'm worried about the one-way roads you see. It might be quicker to walk if the taxi is going to have to go a long way round to get there."

I offer her the map that I'd printed out from multimap.com the previous day, but she declines and continues chatting. She seems mostly harmless, but then I had to get a cab.

The cabbie turns out to be a North African guy who speaks perfect English. He's quite chatty, but as he talks to me, I can't help thinking that he may be a bit unbalanced.

"I like to joke with people," he tells me as we're driving along, "but some people have a bad attitude!"

"For example," he continues, "yesterday there was this fat guy, very fat in fact, so I told him that he looked like a woman who still hadn't had her baby seven weeks after the usual 9 months. I was just joking with him of course, but he wanted to hit me!"

Fancy that mate, I can't imagine why! I decide to give the cabbie a big tip, 'keep him happy' I think to myself, I don't want any trouble.

The lunch and meeting go well, and on my return journey no other members of The General Public come forward to amuse me. The flight lands on time, my pre-booked taxi shows up on time as well, and with no bizarre Swedish women to divert me I decide that there's time to pop in to the interbank drinks after all.

But at the interbank drinks, there's one more surprise in store for me. I'm chatting to cuteCTguy when I spot someone I know on the other side of the room.

"Hey, do you know that guy over there?" I ask him.

"Errr, yes a bit, not very well though, why?"

"Just tell me this, is he gay or straight?"

"I always assumed he was gay," says cuteCTguy, "and this is the gay interbank drinks you know GB!"

Indeed it is. So I guess that clinches it. Even long time readers of this blog will probably have forgotten the mystery of the sexuality of a guy in the gym called S, but as soon as I saw him there at the interbank drinks that was all I could think of. It's nice to tie up loose ends :-)!

A bit of fun on a business trip to the USA

Back in May, I had a business trip to the west coast of the United States to visit some clients. It was a punishing schedule, and there wasn’t much time for fun. Except that while in San Franciso, in a change to my usual online activities, I decide to visit an infamous gay cruising venue called Blow Buddies. I’ve visited these kind of places before of course, but not since I started blogging.

I reckon there’s a whole spectrum of gay sex venues. At one end of the spectrum there are the gay saunas, some of them almost clinically clean, with their swimming pools and café areas. Somewhere in the middle of the spectrum are the arcades and porn cinemas. At at the other end of the spectrum thare are places places like, well, Blow Buddies!

Blow Buddies is a private club, so you have to be a member to get in. But membership is immediately available for visitors like me as long as one presents some kind of photo-ID and pays the membership fee. So one evening, having read Joe.My.God's post about the place, I put on my sleaziest clothes, jump into a cab, and ask the driver to take me to 933 Harrison.

Entering the building I actually feel slightly nervous. ‘Don’t be so silly!’ I tell myself. Although it’s been a while since I visited anywhere this sleazy, I’m not exactly a novice at this sort of thing. Inside the foyer, since I’m not a member, the staff take me to one side and to explain the dangers of unsafe gay sex to me.

“... so we can provide so condoms in case you need any. We ask that you don’t wear any cologne or fragrances of any type. Oh, and it’s no smoking inside too, but there’s an outside yard at the back in case you want to have a cigarette”.

Once the lecture is over I pay the membership and admission fees, get my membership card, and I’m in. I check all my valuables into the cloakroom and go exploring.

Somehow it’s smaller than expected, and after about fifteen minutes trolling around I reckon I’ve got the place sussed:



As I wander around, the area I’ve called Cruise Central on my map seems to be the busiest area, although it takes me a while to realise what’s actually going on. Above the main corridor that passes through one side of Cruise Central is a big screen that’s showing porn, but because it’s quite high up I walk past it at ground level several times before I realise that it's there. Around the outside of Cruise Central is a raised platform, a kind of corridor with chest high walls with glory holes down below. When I realise how it works, I’m quite impressed. There are guys standing on this platform with their members through the holes, watching the porn over the top of the walls, and the platform is at exactly the right height so that guys below are servicing the guys on the platform without having to bend down. Ingenious :-)!

Nearby there’s Whiz World. In case anyone has any doubt what this involves, a sign outside issues a helpful warning: on this adventure you’re going to get wet! When I take a peek inside though, there’s no one there. I would have expected a room like that to be quite smelly, but it’s not. Actually one might expect the whole venue to be smelly, given the quantity of body fluids that get spilt there, but again it’s not. I wouldn’t like to be the cleaner though!

Perched above the main level is a much smaller upstairs area, accessible by a couple of stairways as shown on the map. As well as being able to look down on all the activites below, this area also has a few cubicles, with glory holes of course, and with small TV’s showing porn. Down at ground level again, there are also a few mazes and darker areas, furnished with various useful items such as big chairs, slings, and cages. But throughout the entire venue, there’s one dominant feature. If there’s a wall, it’s almost bound to have a glory hole in it! Well, with a name like Blow Buddies, what does one expect?

I wander round, pausing sometimes to watch the kind of activities that one just doesn’t usually get to see in normal life. One thing’s for certain, there’s absolutely no privacy for anything one wants to do, but then I guess that’s part of the attraction!

For example, turning a corner in one of the darker areas, there’s a guy sitting naked in one of the big chairs. Although the surrounding area is dark, he’s quite well illuminated by a light shining on him directly from above. Kneeling at his knees is another guy. “Hmmm, that’s good, go on, suck that mushroom head, yeah, that’s right”, I hear the guy in the chair say. Slurp, slurp. "Yeah go on you cocksucker, take it deep throat, you know you like it".

Although there are some younger guys there, most of the clientelle is probably older than me. Similarly, there’s quite a diverse mixture of body types, with a few fit looking guys, and more not so fit guys.

I spend a couple of happy hours there. Of course, during my visit a few cc's of my own body fluids find a welcome home. Although I'm not usually into this very sleazy stuff, I must admit that I had a good time. Variety is the spice of life after all. And when I was ready to go back to the hotel, the Blow Buddies staff kindly phoned me a taxi too. What a fabulous service these guys provide!

A business trip outside of the UK

Not so long ago, I went on a brief business trip outside of the UK. While away, I was able to visit the infamous gay establishment pictured here. But can anyone tell me the name of this establishment?

Experiences at GB in Shinjuku 2-chome, Tokyo

A few years ago I worked for a Japanese bank, and a couple of times a year I would have to visit head office in Tokyo. There is a thriving gay scene in Tokyo, especialy in the Shinjuku 2-chome district, although as with many things in Tokyo there’s one scene for gaijin (foreigners) and another Japanese only scene.

The most famous gay bar in Tokyo for gaijin (and Japanese guys who like gaijin) is called GB, which apparently stands for “Ginger Bar” named after the singer Ginger Rogers. It’s just a single room in a basement, quite small and often packed. As well as using gay.com to find guys for fun, on each trip to Tokyo I would also try and visit this bar to try and meet guys in the old-fashioned (off-line) way.

On one occasion I picked up a young but slightly overweight Japanese fashion designer who drove me back to his appartment for a bit of fun. He was definitely a style queen, the car he drove was a two seater convertible. After we’d had a bit of fun he didn’t want me to stay the night with him because he had to head off early to put on a fashion show somewhere south of Tokyo. I also had a plane to catch.

But the most interesting visits to GB related to when I left the bar alone.

On one occasion, it’s late in the evening when I leave GB. I decide to try and find the gay sauna which I know is located near there, so I get out a small map to try and work out the way. Perhaps I should be more careful in foreign cities to avoid publicising the fact that I don't know my way around, but the street outside GB is almost deserted, apart from a couple of young guys seated on the steps opposite who look completely harmless.

I find the sauna, it’s in a small back alley, but when I get to the door there’s a sign on it in both Japanese and English – Japanese speakers only. Ahhh well, too bad. Apart from GB I know there are also several other bars in the area, so I head off to try and find one of them. But I fail! Maybe my information is out of date, or maybe it’s just that I’m having trouble working out the Japanese system for specifying addresses – no less logical than the western method of “house number, street name” but just completely different.

I head back to the subway. I’m half way down the steps and someone says “Hey”. I look up and there’s a young Japanese guy, dressed in loose fitting clothes with a small rucksack, talking do me.

“Don’t go yet, I can show you where to go”. He seems anxious for me not to go back to my hotel.

How does he know what I’m looking for? Why does it matter to him whether I go or not? Am I going to be mugged? Is he employed by the owner of a local gay bar to entice gaijin inside where there are expensive rent boys? I can’t decide whether to trust him a bit, or to head back to the hotel. He can tell I’m wavering.

“Can I just show you a bar, not too far? We can go inside if you like, it’s up to you.” He looks me up and down smiling – with his eyes resting just momentarily on my crotch. He’s cruising me! But is he paid to do this? Or if I recriprocate, will he end up wanting money? Against my better judgement I have to find out.

“OK, why don’t you show me”, I say, giving in. I’ve only had one drink at GB, I hope that I’ll be able to look after myself if things turn nasty.

As we’re walking back along the streets near GB bar, he tries to talk to me. His English isn’t very good, but we can just about communicate. He seems like a nice guy, perhaps he just wants to practise his English on me? We go into another bar together and he doesn’t seem to know anyone there. I get him to order me a beer and he orders a soft drink for himself, although I pay. Same price as GB, so that’s not the scam. We sit down next to each other and chat. He’s still a student. Gradually we get closer to each other, and then he rubs my knee every so gently.

“Is there anywhere we can go?” he says.

Well if he’s not going to ask for money, maybe it’s my lucky night. He is a lovely looking, young Japanese guy, and he’s effectively just asked to have a bit of fun with me.

“Do you want to come back to my hotel?” This is it, if he wants money I should find out now.

“OK sure”. He smiles at me and rubs my hand. So he doesn’t want money, he just wants my body! Fine my me!!

Outside we take a cab and spend a lovely night together. In the morning I take him down for breakfast in the hotel restaurant, and after that we say goodbye.

On my next visit to Tokyo I also visit GB one evening. Leaving alone, again there a couple of harmless looking young Japanese guys on the steps opposite the bar. But as I walk off, one of them gets up and follows me. Like last time I wander round the streets trying to find another gay venue. Yes, although he’s trying to make sure I don’t see him, he’s definitely following me.

Thinking back to my last visit, it all starts to make sense. The guy last time knew I was gay because he saw me come out of GB. Nothing more sinister than young Japanese guys who like having fun with gaijin.

So the same thing happens again. I end up talking to the guy who’s following me, although this time we dispense with the bar and head straight back to my hotel. This one was gorgeous, just as young but somehow he’s fitter than the prevoius guy. We have fun, he stays the night, and in the morning I take him to breakfast.

Now I think I know how things work, on my next visit I try the same method. But I’m too eager. I leave GB, I get followed by one of the young guys on the steps outside GB, but perhaps because I try and talk to him too soon he runs away. Damm!! Next time I’ll be more careful.

Before my next trip to Tokyo happens, I get a job with a different bank. But if I ever return to Tokyo, I’m definitely going to see whether there are still young guys outside GB looking for fun with gaijin.

Update 8-Jan-2011: I went back to GB bar for a drink with boyfriend T, see Another visit to GB in Shinjuki 2-chome, Tokyo.

New York trip 2004: Friday, final day

I wake up on Friday morning around 6:30am, snuggled up to D. I put one of my arms round him to cuddle him and he wakes up slightly too. We both know that I have to leave round 7:30am, but instead of having sex we just lie there cuddling. Eventually it’s 7:20am. “I’m going to have to go soon, you know”, I say, sounding sad.

“Yes I know”, says D, also sounding sad.

I make sure D has my e-mail address, and he gives me mine too. “I’ve really really enjoyed your company”, I say as I’m leaving, “you've turned a boring business trip into a very memorable one”.

By late afternoon I’m in the British Airways business lounge at JFK airport, thinking about D. The lounge has some Internet terminals so I decide to send him an email:

Hi D, thanks for making my visit to New York really special. Good luck with your photography and I hope you find yourself a nice boyfriend, you certainly deserve one. I will e-mail you if I come back to New York, all my love xxx

And by the time I get back to London there’s reply waiting for me from D:

thank you handsome!
you are very special... and lucky is your lover to have you by his side for all these years...
We will meet again even only as friends....
be good and always happy :):):)
D

I certainly hope to see D again on my next visit. I only met him 5 days ago and already I really care about what happens to him in the future. I hope he’ll have found himself a boyfriend by the time I visit New York again - even though it would mean that I wouldn't be able to sleep with him!

New York trip 2004: Thursday evening with D

After an uneventful day at work, I’m looking forward to seeing D in the evening. Just before 8pm I go down to wait for him outside the hotel. A few minutes later, I see him walking towards me, with a huge grin on his face. He’s clearly treating this as a date, and must have spent a lot of time getting ready. He’s wearing a colourful shirt, and looks great.

Since we’re in public I don’t go to kiss him. Instead I touch him lightly on the shoulder and smile at him, “So have you got any idea where we can go?” I ask.

“Yes, a friend told me there’s a good French restaurant a few blocks away, so let’s try there”.

As we’re walking along, D asks me about boyfriend number 1, “Does he know that you have fun with guys like me when you’re travelling?”

“No, actually he doesn’t”, I say looking a bit sheepish.

“Well if I get a boyfriend again who goes away on business trips, I can see that I’ll have to go along too!”

“So you used to have a boyfriend who went travelling?” I ask. It turns out that D used to have a European boyfriend who spent half his time back in Europe, and half in New York. But that was a couple of years ago now.

When we get to the restaurant, D looks suspicious. “Looks a bit touristy to me”, he says. “Never mind, lets trust my recommendation and see what’s it’s like”.

We order a starter and a main course. I order a glass of red wine, but D doesn’t drink and alcohol and sticks with water. Over the meal, D tells me about the European boyfriend that he used to have. Apparently D had offered to go and live with him in Europe but the offer fell on deaf ears, “so eventually we split up. I wish I had a nice boyfriend again”.

“You know, you should look after your boyfriend better”, he continues, “why do you meet guys like me when you’ve got a nice boyfriend waiting for you back in London?”

D makes me feel very guilty. The problem of course is that D is right, and D knows he’s right, and he knows that I know he’s right. He can tell he might have gone a bit far and changes the subject. “Don’t worry”, he says, “I still want to sleep with you tonight”, and he gives me one of his gorgeous smiles.

We decide that the restaurant is a bit too touristy so I pay the bill. “We can go somewhere else for dessert”, he says. “I should have trusted my instinct when we first arrived.”

Almost opposite the restaurant is one of D’s favourite Latin American restaurants so we go there for a spot of dessert. D seems to know the staff there and orders for us both in Spanish. While we’re waiting for it to arrive D spots a woman he knows who's eating at another table and beckons her over.

“Hi how are you, this is a friend of mine”, he says to her when she arrives, introducing me. She’s a lively, buxom woman probably aged around 40, and quite smartly dressed. They’re clearly old friends and they chat for short while, switching between Spanish and English.

“I’ve got more computer problems”, she says to D at one point, “can you come round sometime and see what you can do?”

“Yes of course, maybe later this week?” suggests D, “why don’t you give me a call”.

After she’s gone, D tells me that she’s one of the local prostitutes. “And fixing computers for these people is another little sideline of mine”, he says. So this must be another of his ‘various things’ he does to make money that he mentioned on Monday.

Afterwards we decide to head back to D’s place so we grab a cab. Back at D’s place he’s got a couple of dogs tonight, both different from the ones that I met on my previous visits. So I put my feet up with D takes them for a short walk.

Later, D can tell I’m still thinking about what he said, that I should take better care of boyfriend number 1. Indeed, I still feel guilty. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back to your hotel?” he offers, “I wouldn't mind”.

“No, I hate sleeping alone”, I say, smiling, “and I’ve been looking forward to another night with you all day”.

“OK, lets get ready for bed then”, says D.

While D is tidying up in the kitchen, I strip down to my undershorts and head to the bathroom to clean my teeth. “You know, you’ve got lovely legs”, he says as I’m walking back from the bathroom, “it was your legs which first attracted me to you when I saw your profile on gay.com”.

Soon D joins me on the bed and we cuddle up face to face. “You’re such a lovely guy”, I say to him, “I can’t believe you don’t have a boyfriend”. D looks slightly sad, perhaps thinking about his former European boyfriend. “You know”, I continue, “although I meet a lot of guys on my travels, I can tell that not many of them would make good boyfriends. But one day you'll be a great boyfriend for some lucky guy.”

“Really”, say D smiling, “so you don’t meet many guys who you think would make good boyfriends?”

“No, very few indeed. You’re very special.”

Needless to say, we have a some fun together before going to sleep in each other’s arms. We have another lovely night together. D is indeed a very special guy.

New York trip 2004: Wednesday evening with D

Around lunchtime I call D to confirm the evening meeting. “Why don’t you come round at about 8pm”, he says.

“Great. Can we get something to eat somewhere near you?” I ask him.

“Yes OK. There’s a cheap Japanese restaurant that’s only a block away that we can go to.”

In the evening I have a bit of difficulty getting a cab and I arrive a bit late around 8:20pm. But D is happy that I’ve come and lets me in.

“That’s not the same dog you had when I was here a couple of days ago, is it?” I ask him when I get inside his apartment.

“No, actually I get paid for looking after dogs”, he admits, with a grin on his face. So this must be one of the ‘various things’ that D was talking about on Monday when I asked him what job he did!

On the way to restaurant, D tells me that New Yorkers love their pets and will pay huge amounts of money to have them looked after reliably when they can’t do it themselves. “There’s a rich guy who’ll pay me enough to cover my rent just to walk his dog every day!”

We have a nice Japanese meal. I tell him that I used to work for a Japanese bank, so I’ve spent some time in Tokyo. “Yes, Japanese guys are lovely”, I admit. The meal only costs $30 for two, so we split the bill.

Back in his apartment, he tells me to make myself comfortable. “I’ve just got to walk the dog round the block.” So I take off my shoes and watch the TV while he’s out.

When he gets back, he comes and sits down on the sofa next to me. “Do you have a different dog to look after every night?” I ask him. But instead of answering, he smiles, puts one hand on my shoulder, and kisses me.

We spend the next hour or more kissing, cuddling, undressing each other, and finally playing with each other on the bed. I'm fascinated by D's lovely long black hair. Just as on Monday night, we have a wonderful time.

Afterwards, D he lets me stay the night again. “You know, if you hadn’t stayed and slept with me on Monday morning I wouldn’t have wanted to see you again!” he says. Lucky for me that I did sleep with him on Monday morning because I think D is a gorgeous guy. We cuddle a lot during the night, and I get more sleep that I did early on Monday morning, which is great. I feel very comfortable being with D. In the morning we have sex again.

“Tonight’s my last night in New York - on this trip anyway”, I say as I’m getting dressed. “Would you like to go out somewhere with me in the evening?”

“You mean, on a sort of date?” says D.

Well yes, I suppose that is what I mean, but I didn’t think of it like that. I nod. “Perhaps we could have supper together somewhere?” I add.

We agree that D will meet me outside my hotel in Midtown around 8pm. He’ll get some ideas for a restaurant we could go to from some friends of his. Around 7:30am I give him a hug and a kiss, and head off to my hotel to get ready for the day ahead.

New York trip 2004: missing D's company on Tuesday

As anticipated, there is an event with my colleagues from the bank that I have to attend on Tuesday evening. But it’s all over by 8pm. Why didn’t I arrange to meet D?

I have some work I could do so I go back to my hotel, set up my laptop, and order some room service for my evening meal. Later, I’m feeling bored so I log on to gay.com. Why didn’t I arrange to visit D?

I get chatting to a few guys, and one turns out to be in another hotel, very very close to the hotel I’m staying in. He’s a bit older than I am, and quite stocky too, so not really my type. None the less I visit him, strip for him, and let him jerk me off. Afterwards I feel sordid. Why didn’t I arrange to visit D?

New York trip 2004: meeting D at 2am Monday morning

After I’ve freshened myself up in the hotel bathroom, I find myself on the street at 1:45am looking for a cab to take me up to D’s apartment on the Upper West Side. It doesn’t take long to get a cab so I arrive around 2am.

From his apartment he presses the door release and lets me in. The apartment is on the ground floor so it doesn’t take me long to find him. Face to face he’s a thin guy with lovely soft long black hair, and a gorgeous smile. I think his long hair looks lovely, why do most gay guys have such short hair? OK it’s a fair cop, why do I have such short hair?

“Don’t worry about the dog”, he says, pointing to the chair, “she belongs to a friend of mine. I’m just looking after her for a while”.

The dog looks harmless so I go up to D and stretch my arm out to touch him on his shoulder. “Nice to meet you”, I say, smiling. I give him a small hug.

He shows me round. The apartment consists of a small bathroom, a small kitchen, and a much larger living area that has been partitioned into two: there’s a lounge area in the middle of the apartment near the kitchen and a bedroom area at the back. The apartment block itself looks a bit run down from the outside, but inside D has taken a lot of trouble to make his apartment smart and cosy.

“Where do you want me”, I ask. We head to the bedroom area, and I sit on the side of the bed to take my shoes and socks off. D is already barefoot.

“Let’s have a cuddle”, he says, jumping on to the bed. Great, I think, I love guys who enjoy cuddling. He’s got such a cute smile.

We wrap our arms around each other and hold each other tightly. Soon we’re kissing. We both take our tops off, and cuddle again. I find D very erotic. On the bed he’s got an impromptu energy which I find hugely attractive. Suddenly D takes off my trousers, then my undershorts, and starts playing with me. I insist he gets naked too. We spend ages kissing, cuddling, and playing with each other, and we have a lovely time.

Afterwards D asks me why I’m in New York. “I work for an investment bank, and I’m on a business trip from London for a week”, I tell him. “What about you, do you have a job?”

“Oh, I do various things”, he says cryptically, “it’s very easy to make money in New York”. Naturally this makes me curious, but to press him for details seems rude.

“Do you have a boyfriend in London”, he asks me. I admit that I do. But even so, while we’re still lying naked on the bed he asks me to stay the night. “And you can have a shower here in the morning if you like”, he says.

I like the idea but I’m not sure. How much sleep will I get? I know very little about D, am I safe here? But I’m tired now, and falling asleep here with D in my arms sounds wonderful. Back in the hotel I’ll be all alone, and I hate being without a man to share my bed at night. “OK that would be great”, I say, “but I’ll probably go back to my hotel and take a shower, around 7:30am if that’s all right?”

We cuddle most of the night. I do get some sleep, but quite light sleep, because I’m always aware of D’s lovely body next to mine. In fact we get quite sweaty, but we both enjoy being near each other. In the morning, I feel myself getting aroused again. D is aroused too, and while he’s lying cuddled up to me with his back pressed into my chest, gently I start playing with him again. And just like a few hours before, we have a great time.

“How long are you in New York for”, he asks later as I’m getting dressed.

“I’ll be flying out Friday afternoon”, I say, “Perhaps I could see you again before I leave? Are you around tonight?”

“I’m busy tonight”, he says, shaking his head, “but the rest of the week is fine”. It turns out that one of the things that D is doing is learning to be a photographer, and something related to this new career of his is going to occupy him this evening.

“It’s a pity you’re not free tonight”, I say, “because I think I’m going to be busy Tuesday evening with colleagues from the bank over here. Perhaps we could get together Wednesday?”

“Wednesday would be great”, says D. So its settled, provisionally at any rate.

It’s gone 7:45am so I’m going to have to go back to my hotel and get ready for the office. So we make sure we’ve got each other’s contact details, I give him a quick kiss and a hug, and I leave.

Back at the hotel I give boyfriend number 1 a quick call to tell him I’ve arrived safely in New York and to tell him my room number at the hotel. And with memories of the fun I had with D in my mind, I wear a big smile all day.

New York trip 2004: Sleepless on Sunday

To make sure I’m in the New York office bright-eyed and bushy-tailed on Monday morning I always fly out late afternoon on Sunday. After an uneventful flight I check in to my New York hotel in Midtown. It’s around 9pm, which means it’s 2am London time, so I need to try and stay awake until at least 11pm New York time or later to give myself a reasonable chance of getting a good night’s sleep.

So what’s a gay guy going to do for a few hours in New York City? Well there was no point preparing my gay.com profile yesterday if I’m not going to use it. I set up my laptop and log-on. And an important benefit of finding another guy for fun is that afterwards it’s easier to get to sleep, so it helps beat the jet lag.

The Manhattan chat room on gay.com is segregated into sub-rooms, with 100 guys in each sub-room. There are over 4oo guys logged and I get shoved into the 5th room, which has much fewer guys in it. I exit and re-enter a few times and eventually someone leaves one of the crowded chat rooms making room for me to get in.

I’ve got some preparatory work to do for the office tomorrow, so I use the laptop to read various documents and e-mails, while logged into gay.com so that other guys on the system can see that I’m looking for some fun.

As the evening wears on I have a few chats with a few guys but no fun materialises, so around 11pm I decide to risk going to bed. The danger is that I’ll wake up at 3am or 4am, feeling tired but unable to get back to sleep.

But it’s worse that I expected. I get a couple of hours of very light sleep, but around 1am I find myself awake. 1am in New York is 6am in London, and this is around the time I usually get up, so I reckon my London oriented body clock has kicked in. I decide that I need to do something to try and tire myself out, and having another go looking for fun on gay.com seems like a good idea. So I log on to gay.com again.

The chat rooms seem to be just as busy as they were around 9am. Amazing, New York really is the metropolis that never sleeps. Within 5 minutes a nice looking Latin American guy contacts me. Perhaps he’s talking to someone else too because his responses are slow, but gradually we start chatting. It’s now 1:30am, I’m due in the office by 9am at the latest, and he’s suggested that I visit him at his apartment on the Upper West Side. I get his phone number and his name and call him.

“Hi is that D”, I start.

“Yes”, he says with a lovely sweet voice, “would you like to visit me, it won’t take you more than 10 minutes by cab at this time of night”.

I decide to go for it. He looks lovely in his photos so I really can’t resist the idea of a cuddle with him. At least after I’ve had some fun, I should be able to get some sleep.

New York trip 2004: Saturday before the flight

Last year I spent a week working in New York. Ever since I started working in investment banking I’ve been a regular visitor to New York, making trips once or sometimes twice a year, so I’ve got to know the city quite well.

In New York gay.com is (unfortunately) much more widely used that gaydar (gaydar.com is better than gay.com). I hadn’t used gay.com for many months so on Saturday, the day before I’m due to fly out to New York, I log on to gay.com to set up my profile for New York.

After updating my profile, including things like altering my location city from London to New York, I can’t resist having a peek at the chat rooms for London to see how dead the gay.com ones are compared to gaydar.

To my surprise, there are almost 100 guys in the gay.com London citywide chat room, although the other gay.com London chat rooms were empty. On gaydar of course, there are several London chat rooms for different areas and they’re all much much busier than that, but I’m still surprised to see so many guys on gay.com.

I’m about to log-off and head for the gym when I get a surprise – someone on gay.com likes my profile and wants to talk to me. With much fewer guys in the chat room, and without any idea of whether we’re likely to be close to each other in London or not, the probability of getting some fun is low. But I start chatting to him anyway.

Coincidentally it turns out that he’s in the adjacent London borough, he’s up for a meet immediately, and he can accommodate. And of course, since I was about to go out to the gym anyway, the timing works for me too.

So it’s all agreed, I’m to go round there immediately! I tell boyfriend number 1 that I’m off to the gym as usual, and set off. I walk round the corner to the usual mini-cab firm that I use in these situations, and within 15 minutes I’ve arrived. It’ll be a bit awkward to get a cab for the return journey from this area, but never mind.

The guy lives in a small Victorian terraced house. “Nice house”, I say as I walk through the door, “is it yours?” It turns out that he shares the whole house with his boyfriend, but his boyfriend has an IT job for a bank that means he sometimes has to work weekends on site, which is exactly the situation today. So after the boyfriend left early for work, the poor guy left behind felt horny, so he went looking for action on the Internet.

The guy directs me into the front room, where the curtains are still closed. Because I’m on my way to the gym I’m dressed in gym kit, which the guy finds a bit of a turn on. “I like sporty guys”, he says. I slip off my T-shirt, and take off my trainers and socks, so I’m almost naked apart from one item of clothing, my gym shorts. The guy puts one hand on my bare shoulder, and reaches down with his other hand and feels me through my shorts. “Hmmm, nice”, he murmurs. I look him in the eye and touch him in a similar way. We have an enjoyable, if somewhat functional, session.

“But why gay.com when there are so many more guys on gaydar?” I ask when we’ve finished.

“Well”, he says, looking embarrassed as though I’ve discovered his dirty little secret, “I really like American guys, and you tend to get quite a few Americans who are visiting London on gay.com because they don’t know about gaydar”. Good answer, although nothing to be embarrassed about surely? Perhaps he wishes he had an American boyfriend?

As anticipated it’s a bit hard to find a cab afterwards, but it’s been an enjoyable little trip. Maybe I should use gay.com more frequently in London after all. In any case, I’ll be using it over the next few days while I’m in New York.

Asia trip 2002: Friday, final day

[Continued from: Asia trip 2002: Thursday, meeting P in Singapore]

In the morning both me and P take a shower, and we go down to breakfast together in the hotel. The hotel lays out a buffet style breakfast, like almost all hotels I can think of these days. I’m fetching myself some toast from the buffet, and when I get back to the table, P says, “I think the people at that table over there know you”.

I turn round and almost all my colleagues from the bank are having breakfast at a nearby table. They all wave at me, with big smiles on their faces. I’m startled, but manage to keep my composure. I just smile and wave back. Damm, for the third time one or more of them have spotted me with a local guy. As I said previously, I don’t mind them knowing I’m gay, but I don’t want them to think that P or any of the others are rent-boys.

While we’re having breakfast, P asks about my flight back to London. “I’m taking one of the late evening British Airways flights out tonight, but I can meet you for an early supper if you like?”

“OK”, says P looking slightly sad, “Next time you come, why don't you stay a bit longer so we can spend some time together”.

We agree to meet around 6:30pm. Around 6:15pm I get a cab to the big Border’s bookshop near Orchard Road, near where P lives, and right on time P meet me there.

We have a pleasant supper. P asks about boyfriend number 1, and my life in London. He also asks me my Internet age (What's your internet age?) and I tell him the truth. It turns out that I’m slightly older than the European boyfriend he had a few years ago.

Before we say goodbye, we go into a chemist together. I’ve heard about a sleeping pill Melatonin, which is meant to help with jet lag too. P helps me choose a good brand, I’ll try it out when I’m back in London and trying to adjust back to the UK time zone.

“Well, I’ll get in touch the next time I’m in Singapore”, I say as we’re searching for a taxi to take me back to my hotel, “but you should really try and find yourself a nice boyfriend”.

“Oh I know”, sighs P, “can’t you find one for me?”

We find a taxi, and as it pulls away we wave goodbye to each other. I didn’t know at the time, but it wasn’t to be until February 2005 that I would meet P again (Singapore trip Feb 2005. Monday, final day). But it had been a great week. It was really good to see P again, and to meet all the other guys too.

Asia trip 2002: Thursday, meeting P in Singapore

[Continued from: Asia trip 2002: Wednesday in Hong Kong and Taipei]

After I’ve given my talk at the seminar in Taipei, I sneak off to the shops in the basement of the hotel. I want to find a present for P. I’m not sure what’s appropriate, but eventually I settle on some after-shave.

Early afternoon, I send P a txt msg to say I’m looking forward to meeting him in the evening. Eventually I get a response. I’m to phone him when I arrive in Singapore, and we’ll meet in the bar at the back of Boat Quay where we originally met for the first time the previous year.

The afternoon flight from Taipei to Singapore is on time, so everything goes according to plan. It’s just gone 9pm and I’m in the bar near Boat Quay waiting for P, sitting on a bar-stool having bought myself a beer. I start to wonder whether I’m taking my infidelity too far. This will be the first time that I’m meeting someone on a second visit, so P is starting to become my boyfriend in Singapore. I like the idea of having a boyfriend waiting for me in all the cities I visit regularly, but is it putting my relationship with boyfriend number 1 at risk?

Soon P arrives so I buy him a drink. He looks very well, and seems happy to see me. We chat for a while. Since I was here last year, P has moved out of his parent’s home and got his own place near Orchard Road. To help him pay the rent, he’s got a couple of lodgers, both single gay guys. His work seems to be going well too. He’s such a nice guy, I can’t understand why he hasn’t found himself a proper boyfriend. Eventually I tell him, “I bought you a little present, it’s back in my hotel room”.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have”, says P.

“Don’t get too excited”, I say, “it’s nothing very special. Do you want to come back to my room to pick it up?”

As soon as we get inside my hotel room I turn to him and give him a big hug. Singapore isn’t really the place for men to enjoy hugging each other in public. P hugs me back, and we lean back to smile at each other. I break away to find his present.

“Will you stay the night here with me?” I ask him gently, as I give him the present. I had got the shop to wrap it up properly.

“I didn’t know if you’d want me to or not”, replies P sounding very shy, “it’s been about a year since we met”.

“Of course I want you to stay the night with me, I had such a good time with you last year”.

P opens the present. “Oh thank you, that’s lovely”.

I go over to him and give him a big hug again. “Please stay the night with me, I’ll be lonely without you”.

“OK, I’d love to stay the night with you”, says P smiling back at me. It turns out he’s got his toothbrush with him, so he was just teasing me.

Rather than have sex there and then, we behave like we’re actually boyfriends. Neither of us planned it that way, but that’s what happened. We both get ready for bed, taking it in turn to use the bathroom. I feel very lucky having someone like P to share my bed with in Singapore in such a comfortable way.

Soon we’re in bed together. I’ve taken my undershorts off, but P still has his on. He is a bit shyer than I am. Slowly we start cuddling and kissing each other. He feels really good. He smells really good too. After a short while I take off P’s undershorts. We have a great time together.

Afterwards we cuddle as we’re lying there trying to get to sleep. And we cuddle again in the morning as we’re waking up. But we don’t cuddle through the night, we get a good night’s sleep just lying close to each other, just like actual boyfriends do.

[To be continued: Asia trip 2002: Friday, final day]

Asia trip 2002: Wednesday in Hong Kong and Taipei

[Continued from: Asia trip 2002: Tuesday evening in Hong Kong]

In the morning, I can’t decide which tie to wear. There’s the orange and green Italian one with a floral design, which I bought as a present for boyfriend number 1 when we were on holiday in Venice a few years ago, or there’s the blue and red Lacroix one. L doesn’t like the floral one so I take his advice and wear the Lacroix.

L doesn’t have to rush off so we both go down to breakfast in the hotel. Having learned a couple of words of Beijing dialect with T on Sunday afternoon, I get L to teach me a few Chinese words in the Hong-Kong dialect. It turns out that there are two words for ‘thank-you’ depending on the situation. There’s ‘mmm-Goi’ to say thank you for a service, or ‘doh-tzse’ to say thank you for something concrete. And it turns out that since I’m Caucasian I’m a ‘gwei-low’ which means ghost-face!

While I’m being the attentive pupil, I don’t notice that one of my colleagues has come into the restaurant for breakfast too. When I do notice him, we acknowledge each other with a small wave. He clearly noticed me and also noticed that I was having breakfast with someone, otherwise I’m sure he would have joined me. Furthermore, it’s one of the colleagues who I bumped into on Monday night when I was with H in Shanghai. I worry about what my colleague may be starting to think about me. I don’t care if people know I’m gay, but I just don’t want anyone to think that I use rent-boys.

After breakfast I can’t work out how to say thank-you in Chinese to L for meeting me the previous night – has he given me a service or something concrete? He laughs at my confusion, and we part on good terms.

In the afternoon it’s off to Taipei. When we arrive, everyone in the party suggests going out for a beer together, and I figure I should go along too. I’m looking forward to seeing P in Singapore tomorrow night, and having already met T in Beijing, H in Shanghai, and L in Hong Kong, I reckon I can manage to be without a man to share my bed for one night.

[To be continued: Asia trip 2002: Thursday, meeting P in Singapore]

Asia trip 2002: Tuesday evening in Hong Kong

[Continued from: Asia trip 2002: early Tuesday morning in Shanghai]

While I’m with my colleagues at Hong Kong airport, waiting at the carousel to pick up our bags, I disappear briefly to phone L. “Hi, I’m the guy from London”, I start, “do you still want to meet me tonight?”

“Yes, if you want to meet with me”, says L with a chuckle, “which hotel are you staying in?”

I tell L the name of the hotel, and together we work out what time I’m likely to be available, given that I’ve got to pick up my bags and make my way into the city centre. “OK great, I’ll send you a txt msg as soon as I reach the hotel”.

But before we hang up L asks me, “Was I the only reply to your advert?”

“No, there were about 8”.

“And from all those replies you chose me??”. L sounds very happy but astonished.

“Yes, you sounded like the nicest guy”, I say gently. “Anyway, I can tell you more later if you want, but got to rush now, I can see the bags coming out on the carousel”.

As expected, it’s not until around 9:30pm that I reach the hotel. While I’m checking in, I send L a txt msg that I prepared in the taxi, asking him when he can get to the hotel. I get a reply almost immediately. He’s not far away, so he can meet me around 10pm.

We meet in the hotel lobby. “Is there anywhere outside the hotel we can go for a snack”, I ask, “I haven’t had any supper?”

Just like the night before with H when I suggested a drink, L seems slightly surprised by the request. But he seems happy enough to take me somewhere. “Yes of course”, he says, “there’s a shopping centre near here with several bars and restaurants, what kind of food are you looking for?”

“I’m don’t really mind, are you hungry too?” I ask. Not really it turns out, but he’s happy to keep my company.

Although the shopping centre seems deserted, the few bars and restaurants there are quite crowded. We end up in a small Chinese restaurant. I order a snack and a beer, and L has a soft drink.

“So were there really 8 guys who answered your advert?” L asks, as we wait for the drinks to arrive.

“Yes, but only three were good replies”, I say, “for example a couple of the others asked if I would be around later this week instead”.

“So why did you choose me?”

“Oh I don’t know, you sounded the nicest. Why did you agree to meet me anyway?” I ask, trying to play L at his own game.

“Well, I love English guys”, L chuckles.

During the conversation, L tells me that he is taking evening classes to learn Japanese, which was why it was convenient for him to meet me tonight because his class had been this evening, and not too far away from the city centre. He’s very easy to talk to, and clearly a lovely guy. After I’ve finished my snack I ask him if we wants to come back to my hotel room.

“OK, if you’re sure you don’t want to ask one of the other guys who replied to your advert” he teases.

“What do you like to do”, L asks, when we’re back in my room at the hotel.

“To start, I love kissing and cuddling”, I say, “just lying on the bed feeling each other’s naked bodies.”

L slowly undresses me, and I undress him too, and soon we’re cuddling on the bed although still wearing our undershorts. Soon we strip off completely, and start playing with each other. L clearly loves having his cock played with, but he tells me “you’ve got to get it very wet to make me cum”, referring to his helmet. This doesn’t turn out to be a big problem because the more I play with him the more pre-cum he produces. Afterwards, as usual, I want someone to cuddle in bed through the night so I ask him to stay the night.

“But you’ve got time now to meet some of the other guys who replied to your advert”, L chuckles.

What kind of guy does L think I am? The kind of guy who finds other men to have fun with when he’s away from boyfriend number 1, I guess! But with a bit of persuasion L is happy to stay with me overnight, and we both enjoy the cuddling.

[To be continued: Asia trip 2002: Wednesday in Hong Kong and Taipei]

Asia trip 2002: early Tuesday morning in Shanghai

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Asia trip 2002: Monday evening in Shanghai with H

[Continued from: Asia trip 2002: Sunday afternoon tour of the Forbidden City]

The client seminar goes well on Monday morning. In the middle of the afternoon we leave for the airport to fly to Shanghai. After we check-in, I excuse myself from my colleagues to phone H. This will be the first time I’ve spoken to him.

“Hi, we met on gay.com yesterday, is it still possible to meet you tonight?” I tell him my flight is slightly delayed, but I should make it to my hotel around 7pm. “OK. I meet you outside your hotel 8pm”, he says. So it’s all agreed. We exchanged photos yesterday so we should recognise each other.

Everything goes according to plan. I send him a txt msg to confirm again as we’re being driven from the airport to the hotel. At the appointed hour I make my way to the hotel entrance and wander around outside, and almost immediately H comes up and introduces himself. “Hi, how are you”, he says. “Is there anywhere near hear we can go for a beer?” I ask. I figure that it’s still early so I’ve got a better chance of overnight company if we delay going up to my room. If we have sex immediately we may start wondering what to do by the time it gets to 9:30pm. I hate sleeping alone, and much prefer having a man to share my bed with me.

H seems slightly surprised by my request. “Yes I suppose so”, he says, “I think I know a place near here which is probably open”.

We walk through quite a recently built shopping centre that seems deserted at this time of night, but soon we come to a Chinese restaurant. It’s very bright inside and sparsely furnished with cheap functional tables and chairs. We’re almost the only people in there, but we’re welcome. H orders me a beer and has a soft drink himself. This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind but I guess it will do.

“Do you have a job?” I ask him. “Yes, I’ve now got a job with a foreign healthcare company”, he replies, “because I’m a qualified doctor”. It turns out that H was in the Chinese army for over 10 years, and during this time he became a fully qualified medical doctor.

Gradually we drink our drinks. “So do you want to come back to my hotel with me?” I say smiling and looking him in the eye. Although this has been the plan all along, it seems only polite to ask in case he’s changed his mind now he’s met me. “Of course”, he says smiling back, so I settle the bill and we head back.

Back at the hotel, we’re walking into the lobby, talking to each other, and I see a few of my colleagues from the bank coming the other way. I just manage to say to H quickly “These guys are colleagues of mine”, before one of them says to me “We’re just off for a few beers, want to come along?” But they notice that H is with me and look puzzled. “Not tonight thanks”, I say, and thankfully the lift arrives and with it the opportunity to exit the situation. “Damm”, I think to myself, as I wonder whether they’ll talk about why I was with a local Chinese guy.

We reach my room without any further surprises. Once inside I immediately remove my shirt so that I’m bare-chested, and walk over to the window to look at the view. The room is on a very high floor so the view is magnificent. H comes over to look at the view and I put my arm round his shoulders. He reciprocates by putting his arm round my waist. He’s a lovely guy so it’s going to be a great evening.

Smiling, I ask him “Why don’t you take your shirt off too?” Eagerly he slips off his top and comes back to join me at the window. I turn to face him and we embrace for the first time. He’s slightly shorter than me but it doesn’t matter. Still holding him round the waist I lean backwards slightly to look him in the eye. He smiles at me, so I move in and kiss him on the lips. Soon we’re on the bed, cuddling, kissing, and enjoying the feel of each other’s naked bodies. I really love guys who just enjoy cuddling and body contact. His body is very firm, which I presume to be the result of all the training he must have done when he was in the Chinese army. I feel very happy to have found such a lovely guy in Shanghai.

“Stay the night here with me”, I ask him when we’ve finished. “But don’t you want to get a good night’s sleep”, he asks, “because you know you’ll have other things to do if I’m around!” I insist he stays so it’s settled.

[To be continued: Asia trip 2002: early Tuesday morning in Shanghai]