Another enjoyable night in Bangkok

"Dream Boys, Hot Males, Fresh Boys, New Boys … " I say to my friend C as we wander down a road in central Bangkok, "if one wanted a guy from a place like that, how on earth would one decide?"

"I mean, 'dream boys' sound good," I continue, "presumably they're the kind of perfect guy from one's dreams, but do you want a guy that's new or has been used before? So perhaps 'fresh boys' are better, because 'fresh' presumably means 'unused' :-)?"

I'm with my friend C, who's also known as the blogger Close Encounters, and we're walking down an alley in central Bangkok. The alley is full of bars where scantily clad young men work, often putting on X-rated shows for the bar's customers. And of course, I'm quite aware that the guys inside all the different bars here will be much the same, in spite of the different bar names!

"The guys standing on the stage in side that bar didn't look that happy," says C.

"Indeed :-(," I say, agreeing with C, "and the drinks in these places will probably be quite expensive. Let's go somewhere else!"

Soon we're sitting down outside Telephone Pub, in Silom Road Soi 4. We order some beers, and looking around, we can't avoid noticing some of the other customers.

"This tourist in front of us is definitely being chatted up by a money boy," I say quietly to C.

Close Encounters surveys the situation and nods his head.

"But I think it's actually the other way round," replies C, "it's the tourist who's making most of the effort, not the money boy!"

This bar is possibly exactly the same bar that I visited when I went to Bangkok ten years ago. Back then, my Thai Friend B thought it was OK for tourists like me to hook up with money boys. On that occasion, I did end up with a lovely Thai guy in bed with me :-), but whether he was actually a money boy or not was unclear!

Back to today and the tourist in front of us reaches out and touches the object of his desire gently on the arm. I have to agree with C that the money boy isn't trying to sell himself, instead the client is hoping to buy. I can't help wondering how much money will change hands, but whatever the amount, it doesn't matter. Just as B recommended me ten years ago, both sides will get what they're looking for.

Part of the fun of being in bars like this is watching the other customers, so we decide to move to another table where we'll have a better view.

"That could be another tourist with a money boy over there," says C before he takes a sip of his beer, "can you see them? They're opposite us, immediately to the right of the table with three guys on it."

"Oh yes, very probably :-)," I reply grinning. "They haven't reached the touching each other stage yet, but the money boy has got his legs wide open. Perhaps he's hoping that his knee will make contact with the tourist's knee!"

We start chatting about other things and a little later, when we look back at the table opposite, we see that the money boy's knee has indeed made contact with the tourist's knee.

"Where is boyfriend K tonight?" asks C, losing interest in money boy seduction techniques.

"He didn't want to come out tonight in case he drinks too much!" I answer truthfully, "We've flying out tomorrow, and he doesn’t need a hangover. Boyfriend K can be a bit of a party animal, sometimes he doesn't know when to stop!"

The conversation moves on, and when I glance over at the table opposite, they seem to be touching each other more and more. Just friendly pats on the forearm or shoulder, but exactly the kind of thing that one does when getting to know another person, as a prelude to more intimate activities.

"So what are you planning to do tomorrow?" I ask C.

"Not sure yet," he replies, "but this is Bangkok, I'm sure I'll find something interesting to do :-)"

"Actually you've never been to Babylon, have you?" I say, "As far as I'm aware, it's still the best gay Sauna complex in the world :-), so if you have nothing else to do I'd certainly recommend it!"

But before C can answer, he indicates with his eyes over to the table opposite where the money boy and tourist were talking and touching each other. The tourist is standing behind the money boy now, and massaging his shoulders. And then suddenly, with a smile and a kiss, the tourist takes his backpack and wanders away towards the main road. The money boy looks slightly upset.

"He looks quite cute, don't you think GB?" asks C.

"Yeah, I guess, but with money boys you can ever be sure where they've been!"

"But you can't be absolutely sure that he's a money boy, can you?"

"Well no," I admit, "but it seems quite likely to me."

"Actually, he's occasionally glancing over at us now :-)."

"Well if you want a money boy experience, we could invite him over to join us :-)," I suggest, "As far as I'm concerned, what happens in Bangkok stays in Bangkok!"

"Indeed GB," agrees C, "but one of my friends back in London likes to remind me that that's only true if you don't have to visit the clap clinic!"

We continue chatting, looking at the various other customers of the bars in the alley, but I also notice the money boy glancing at us.

"You're right," I admit to C, "he is looking at us now and then. If you're interested in him, then we should invite him to join us."

"No! Then we'd have to make small talk. I'd rather just take him back to my hotel and fuck him :-)! I've got a better idea."

And with that, C pulls out his phone and starts looking at his gay dating apps.

"Look at him checking his phone all the time," explains C, "I bet he's looking at his apps, I wonder which one he's on …"

C, bless him, is on ALL the gay dating apps. Long term readers of this blog will know that I've used some of them in the past, but having been with boyfriend K for 6 years now, I'm quite out of touch with that world.

"Wow," says C, "this is such a target rich environment, one of the best places I've ever been for finding a guy online. There are loads of men within only a few meters :-). Hey, look at this pic GB, that's not him is it?"

"Yes it is!" I answer, looking at a photo of a slim young topless Asian guy on a beach somewhere, "that's definitely him."

Soon C is chatting to the money boy on Hornet.

"Since he's been looking at us a lot," says C, "I'm going to ask him which of us he fancies."

"OK," I say, "and what's the answer?"

There's a short pause while C waits for the money boy to answer.

"He says he likes the look of both of us!"

"Well what else was he going to say?" I reply, "A money boy isn't going to offend a potential customer, or rule out the possibility of a threesome! I wonder if money boys charge more for threesomes?"

Ignoring my question, C continues chatting online with the money boy. Although I used to chat to guys online a lot, I always preferred chatting face to face. So it seems mildly bizarre to me that at this point both C and the money boy know exactly who each other are, but still prefer to chat on an app even though they're within only a few metres of each other.

"Now he says that it looks like you and me are boyfriends!" says C, updating me on the conversation.

I laugh at the suggestion that me and C are boyfriends, but I'm not surprised that we look very comfortable in each other's company. I've read C's blog, and he's read this one, so we know all each other's secrets!

"I've got a flight tomorrow, and I don't want to be a gooseberry," I tell C, "so I'll go home if you promise to let me know how much money he asks for, even if he says it's for his sick mother?"

"Ha! But I don't think he's a money boy GB," protests C. "Anyway, of course I'll tell you what happens :-)."

As I walk up the alley towards the main road, I smile at the money boy and blow him a quick kiss. He smiles back at me with a big grin on his face.

I get back and go to bed with boyfriend K as usual, and when I wake up there are some messages on WhatsApp from C timed at just before 1am.

C: Just said goodbye to the guy. He wasn't even Thai, he's a tourist too!

C: And he didn’t ask for money for his mother :)

C: Thank you for a fun evening

I send a quick reply

GB: Poor guy, he didn't even get to sleep in a comfortable bed for the night!

A little later I get a reply

C: Ha ha - I’m sure he had a comfortable bed at his own hotel.

A couple of days later, I get an email from C to tell me that he's done a post on his blog about the evening. I find it fascinating to read the same events described from C's point of view. Surely it wasn't me who first suggested that we visit the erotic gay bars?

Thinking about the night now, I realise that when I used to use the gay dating apps, I was usually hoping for more than what C looks for. Perhaps C sometimes looks for more, but on this occasion C clearly just wanted sex. He didn't want to chat to the guy in the bar beforehand, and they parted company soon after the activities finished. But I was always interested to get to know the guy much more. I did enjoy starting out by meeting up face to face to chat about whatever, during which time the body language would help me work out what kind of guy he was. After any activities, if the activities had been enjoyable and were at night then I'd love to fall sleep with the guy so that we could wake up the next day together. I love feeling the warmth of a naked man, lying in bed next to me, and to this day it's still true that I sleep less well when I'm in a bed on my own.

Ever since I first met C, he's been happy as a single guy, whereas I've usually had one (or more!) boyfriends. So my conclusion is that our different approach to hooking up with strangers is directly related to our desire, or lack of desire in C's case, to have boyfriends.

Seat belt not necessary in Budapest

A few days after we visited Prague, me and boyfriend K arrive at the main railway station in Budapest. I had visited Budapest once before in the 1990's with boyfriend number 1 (a.k.a. ex-boyfriend S), but that would have been around 20 years ago. I am definitely interested to see what the city is like these days. The main taxi queue at the railway station looks very long, so since we don't have a lot of luggage, we head onto the street and start walking towards the hotel where we'll be staying.

"There's a couple of taxis parked on the road over there," I say to boyfriend K, looking around, "perhaps one of them can take us."

The first taxi does indeed agree to take us. Boyfriend K sits on the back seat while I take the seat next to the driver, and as we pull into the traffic, I start to put my seat belt on.

"No need for seat belt," says the driver, turning to smile at me, "this Budapest! Seat belt not necessary in Budapest :-)."

I look over, and to my surprise, I see that the driver himself isn't wearing a seat belt. I feel sure that there must be some European Union regulation about wearing seat belts, but decide not to challenge him on this. Nonetheless, his suggestion doesn't deter me from wearing MY seat belt.

After our experiences in Prague, I know that boyfriend K will be interested to visit some of the gay bars in Budapest, so before we go to dinner I find time to use google to do a bit of research. I find a place called Coxx club , and since it's a Saturday, there's a Gang-Bang party tonight. I see that the club also hosts events called "Sucker night" and "Nude sex party". Boyfriend K is very keen that our relationship is monogamous, so I decide that Coxx club *might* not be the best place for a couple like us! I find another place called Action Bar. Like the name itself, the images I find online suggest that it's also quite a raunchy place. Searching further I find a few others places too, although it's not obvious to me where would be best.

"So where shall we go afterwards?" says boyfriend K to me in the restaurant after we've ordered our dinner.

"I'm sure you want to find some of the gay bars!" I say, grinning at him.

"Of course :-)," he says, smiling back at me, "Do you think that there's anywhere here like Escape Club that we found in Prague? That was fun!"

The restaurant has a wifi network, so he gets the password and starts to do his own research.

"That's amusing," says boyfriend K smirking, "There's a place called Coxx club, but cocks is spelt C-O-X-X!"

"Yes indeed," I say with a serious tone in my voice, "I was looking for places earlier. I'm pretty sure that Coxx club is NOT the kind of place that we should go."

"Why not?" asks boyfriend K.

"Why not?" I say, repeating his question back to him, "well just look at it! Tonight there's a Gang-Bang party. It's presumably the kind of place that single men go to get naked and get off with each other while everyone else watches! Not at all the kind of place for a couple like us."

"Well we could just watch, couldn't we?"

"Maybe, or maybe not. At some of these events one may be expected to check in all one's clothes on arrival! How would you feel about that? And even if we don't have to do that, I wouldn’t expect it to feel very comfortable if one doesn't want to get involved."

Boyfriend K does a bit more research, and after a short while, nods his head at me. No doubt he founds some reviews which echo my thoughts about what it's probably like.

"OK, how about this place then?" he says, showing me the screen of his smartphone, "It's called Action Bar :-)".

"Yeah," I say, "I also looked at that place earlier. I doubt the clientele will be your type, and with a name like Action Bar, who knows what we'll be walking into! I'd bet any amount of money that there'll be some dark rooms."

"C'mon mate :-)," replies boyfriend K, clearly in the mood for some kind of excitement, "It'll be fine :-). Surely we can just go for one drink?"

All the other nearby bars sound quite standard, so with a little bit of trepidation, I agree that we'll go and check out Action Bar.

"But don't be upset if I end up saying 'I told you so'," I warn him, "It’s definitely not going to be like Escape Club!"

Fifteen minutes later, we're walking down quite a dark road in central Budapest.

"It should be down here somewhere," I say to boyfriend K, "and it's going to be in the basement, so look out for it."

"How did you find your way from the restaurant without looking at the map?" asks boyfriend K suspiciously, "and how do you know that it's in the basement?"

"Because I've got a good sense of direction and because I did my research earlier :-)!" I answer emphatically.

In the distance I spot a guy loitering outside one of the buildings, and as I get closer, it's clear that he's some kind of bouncer. Peering down the steps that he's guarding, I see a neon sign saying Action Bar. I smile at the bouncer, and he indicates that we can enter.

"Entrance fee tonight," he says in English, presumably working out that we're not Hungarian speakers, "pay downstairs."

We head down the stairs and go through the door, handing over the minimal HUF 1000 entrance fee on the way to the bar. None of the other guys in the bar or the bar staff look particularly attractive. Boyfriend K is easily the youngest person in the bar.

"So what do you think?" I ask boyfriend K quietly once we've bought our drinks.

"Not sure …" he replies, before adding "I'm going to have a look around."

He hands me his drink to hold and heads for the opening at the back of the bar which looks like it leads into another room. While he's away, a couple of bar stools become available so I go and sit down at the bar. A few minutes later he returns with his report.

"The room next door has a kind of platform by the bar," he says, sitting down next to me, "Not sure if they have any entertainment here, but if so, I guess they stand on that to perform."

"And are there any dark rooms?" I ask, quietly.

"Uh huh," answers boyfriend K, nodding his head, "the toilets are there too, and …"

He pauses looking a bit shocked about something.

"I'll show you later," he continues, "I still can't quite believe it!"

"So what do you think?" I ask, "Shall we stay?"

"I know you're going to say 'I told you so', but you're right," he admits, "It's not really my kind of place! We can move on after this drink if you like."

But suddenly he has a thought and he signals to the barman, who comes over to find out what he wants.

"Is there any show tonight?" he asks.

"Yes," answers the barman, "stripper at 1am in room next door :-)."

"Well we may as well see the start of the show," says boyfriend K to me, "but let's go if we don't like it."

The bar gradually fills up as show time approaches, so we move next door and perch ourselves on a bench at the back of the room. As usual in these places, the show starts late. But when it starts, it's not what either of us expected.

"Oh my god," boyfriend K whispers to me once the show starts, "that's definitely NOT what I want to watch!"

In front of us, on the platform by the bar, a stocky and slightly hairy guy in his fifties is gradually taking off all his clothes. He's good at moving in time with the music and he's not obese, but he's not particularly handsome either. However, the room is quite crowded now, and looking around it's not going to be easy to go. Ten minutes later, the guy is completely naked apart from a cockring. As I had expected, he's quite a big guy, and as he dances his tackle bobs up and down as he shows it off to the audience in different poses.

"I guess that's it!" says boyfriend K to me, but even though the guy isn't his type, he can't take his eyes off the stage.

Shortly afterwards, the stripper gets off the platform and disappears into an adjacent room. However, the show isn't over because now, two much younger guys emerge from the same room and climb onto the platform. Both these guys are considerably more handsome than the first guy. Slowly, the two guys remove each other's clothes, and soon they're both standing there naked, playing with each other. However, unlike the equivalent performance at Escape Club, both these guys are hard. They take it in turn to kneel down and take each other in their mouths, but neither me nor boyfriend K are prepared for what happens next. After a few minutes, both guys get off the stage on opposite sides, and each of them offer themselves to the nearest audience member. And on both sides of the stage, the guys in the audience oblige, by bending down and giving the performers a suck.

"I don't believe it!!" whispers boyfriend K to me, "what on earth …"

Slowly the performers move round the room in opposite directions. Most members of the audience are keen for a brief play and often a bit of a suck too. As each of the performers pass us, we both smile at them but shake our heads slightly. Luckily there's no necessity to get involved.

"Follow me," says boyfriend K to me once both performers have passed us, and he leads me through a dark passage located next to the stage.

At the end of the passage there's a small dimly lit room with a pornographic video showing.

"Have a look in there," he says to me, and walking inside, I see a long urinal with shiny metal at the back, and with two cubicles on the opposite wall. It's just the toilet area.

I feel like a pee, so I walk towards the urinal with obvious intention.

"NO, don't!" says boyfriend K urgently, "come with me," and walking back through the room showing the video, we enter a much darker area.

"There!" says boyfriend K, "that's what I said I'd show you!"

And I can't quite believe it either. The shiny metal at the back of the urinal isn't metal after all. Instead it's a one way mirror which backs on to this dark area, so that anyone here can see the tackle of any guy who uses the urinal.

"Wow," I say quietly, "I've never seen that before!"

We don't stay in the dark area very long, and heading back to the main bar, the show is now over so it feels like time to leave.

"How DEGRADING for those performers," says boyfriend K as we walk back to the hotel, "walking round the room like that, letting anyone touch them and suck them."

"And how UNHYGENIC too," he continues, "what on earth is everyone thinking, there must be diseases that could be passed on from one member of the audience to another."

As boyfriend K continues to comment and express shock about what we'd just seen, I can't help wondering what would have happened if we'd headed to Coxx club instead. And then I think back to what the taxi driver said to us just after we'd arrived, "Seat belt not necessary in Budapest". After our experiences tonight, it certainly seems to be a city where risk-taking is part of everyday life!

A night out in Prague

Over the years, I've visited lots of Europe's major tourist destinations. However, boyfriend K has only been to Europe a few times, so with lots of European places still on his bucket list we planned a little trip. Half way through the holiday, having visited a few places in Germany and Austria, we make our way to Prague.

"I can't believe how crowded all the main tourist areas in Prague are these days," I say to boyfriend K as we're finishing dinner in a smart Italian restaurant on the second night, "it's definitely much more crowded than when I first visited in the 1990's :-(."

"Yes, too crowded," replies boyfriend K, "I think it would be nice to get up very early tomorrow and out of the hotel by 6am, so we can take some photos when there isn't anyone around!"

"OK, I'd be up for that :-), but we'll have to have quite an early night or it won't happen! Actually, I had been thinking that we should find some of Prague's gay bars tonight?"

Although I don't spend a huge amount of time in gay venues, it can be fun to visit them occasionally, especially when one's on holiday in a city like Prague :-).

"I've been wondering if you were going to suggest that," replies boyfriend K enthusiastically, "and I was thinking I might go on my own if you weren't interested! Have you any idea where to go?"

"I expect we can work it out, but if we're going to get up early for photos tomorrow, perhaps we should leave it until tomorrow night?"

"Well," says boyfriend K putting on one of his winning smiles, "how about we find a gay bar tonight? But just for one quick drink!"

Although I've visited Prague twice in the past, I haven't been for at least ten years, so whatever I can remember is sure to be hopelessly out of date. Luckily we have access to google on our smartphones, and a quick search shows several places that are only a short walk away. The nearest place with a promising description is called "Friends", and fifteen minutes later we're standing outside wondering whether it's actually open. It sounds exceptionally quiet.

"Well the door is open, so now we're here we may as well go inside and have a look," I say pragmatically.

It turns out that one has to go down two flights of stairs to get into the bar, and as we descend, gradually we hear music getting louder and louder. Once we're at the bottom of the stairs, we see that there are perhaps fifteen other customers so we decide to stay. A few of the customers are women sitting in pairs, so it's presumably a bar for both gay men and gay women.

In London I drink much more wine than beer, but I'm a big fan of Czech beer so we stand at the bar and order a couple of glasses of draft Pilsner Urquell. Next to us there are a couple of Asian guys sitting on bar stools, chatting to each other, and almost immediately they notice that boyfriend K is also Asian. I catch the eye of the closest one, and soon we're chatting to each other.

"Hello, my name is L :-)," says the guy who's furthest from me in a slightly camp voice, "and who are you?"

"I'm GB," I reply in a manly voice.

"… and I'm K," says boyfriend K, happy that it is indeed a friendly bar and that it's easy to get talking with some of the other customers.

The other guy introduces himself as W, and before too long we know a few things about each other. The first guy L now lives in Prague, whereas W is a tourist like us, originally from Shanghai.

"It's my last night in Prague," says W, "tomorrow I fly to Amsterdam for the last leg of my holiday."

"He was going to stay in his hotel tonight," explains L, "but I persuaded him that he should come out for a drink here one last time."

I get the impression that the two of them met online within the last couple of days, and may even have engaged in some activities together.

"And are you guys a couple?" L asks us.

"Yes we're boyfriends :-)," I say, "we've been living together in London for a while now."

We discuss Prague a bit, and L tells us that he doesn't feel that the city is 100% safe because he had been burgled within the last few months. We carry on chatting, and as me and boyfriend K finish our beers before L and W, we offer to buy a round of drinks for all of us.

"If you buy me a beer, does that mean that I have to have sex with you?" asks L, smiling. But there's something in L's voice that tells me that he's not completely sure of the answer.

"No, of course not!" I say smiling at him, "buying rounds of drinks is a British custom among friends, it doesn't mean anything really."

"So how old do you think I am," asks L, as me and boyfriend K start tucking into our second beers. "Feel the skin on my back," he continues, "it's very smooth isn't it :-)?"

Clearly L wants to be told that he looks young. I feel the skin on his back that he exposes to me, and although it is smooth, it seems mildly ridiculous to me that smooth skin on one's back is any claim to youth. Looking at him closely I decide that he's probably at least 45 years old, if not 50, but obviously it would be rude to say that.

"I think he's older than that your close friend who lives just outside London," I say to boyfriend K playfully, deliberately discussing L's age in a way that he won't be able to understand! The friend that I'm referring to is in his late 30's, so I feel that I'm being generous.

"What does that mean?" asks L, impatient to be told how young he looks.

"Well I think you're probably about 34," replies boyfriend K being exceptionally generous, "and that friend of mine is 37 so GB thinks you're 38."

On hearing this L instantly looks upset, no doubt because he wants to be told that he's still in his 20's.

"Always be kind to a lady about her age!" advises W with a smile on his face. But I am being kind!

"Well," says L, "in fact I'm 40, can you believe it?"

"No, surely not," I say, deciding to play along with him, but deciding that if he admits to 40 then he's probably at least 50!

The conversation drifts onto other subjects, and when we've finished our second beer, boyfriend K starts to look restless.

"Are there any other places nearby that are worth a visit?" he asks.

"There's a club about ten minutes walk away," says L, "and there'll be a show we could watch. There'll be lots of money boys who'll come up to you wanting you to buy them drinks, but you don't have to."

It was interesting that he used the term "money boy" to refer to what I would call a rent boy, i.e. a male prostitute. Previously I'd only ever heard Thai guys use that term for Thai rent boys who focus on gay male clients in Thailand.

"What kind of show it is?" asks boyfriend K.

"It's a clothes off kind of show!" replies L, with a bit of a glint in his eye.

"We're meant to be having an early night so that we can take some photos at 6am tomorrow!" I remind boyfriend K.

"And I've got a plane to catch tomorrow," adds W.

"But aren't either of you interested to find out what a clothes off show is like in Prague?" replies boyfriend K.

"Well, yes I suppose I am curious," I admit, and W nods too.

"That settles it then :-)," says boyfriend K, with one of his winning smiles, "let's all go, but just for one drink!"

The four of us finish our drinks and soon we're all making our way to a bar that turns out to be called Escape. It takes about ten minutes to walk there, and once there, we have to ring the doorbell to gain entrance. It seems to help that they recognise L, so the door opens and we make our way down the stairs to find a tough looking guy sitting behind a desk.

"Here's a drinks card for each of you," says the tough guy, "you use this to pay for drinks, and then settle up for what's on the card when you leave."

"Don't lose the card," advises L quietly, "they won't let you leave without it!"

Walking through the next door, neither me nor boyfriend K can believe our eyes. There's a little dance floor in the middle of the club, FULL of young guys who're all completely 100% naked! On the side of the dance floor nearest to the bar there's a pole from floor to ceiling, and the naked guys are taking it in turns to swing round the pole while shaking their tackle at the audience.

"Um, well, that's definitely what I'd call a clothes off show!" I say to L, still completely astonished at what I'm seeing.

Soon, though, the dance floor is empty and all the guys who had been naked have put shorts on and are wandering around the room looking for admirers to buy them drinks or give them tips. Clearly we just happened to arrive at the end of one of the evening's performances. Looking at one of the video screens, I see a notice that says "Live sex show 1:30am", which will be in about 20 minutes time. Perhaps there's some kind of performance every 30 minutes.

"If you want to take any of the money boys home then let me know," says L quietly to me and boyfriend K, "because I can get you a discount. The standard price is five thousand Czech Koruna".

"Thanks L, but we won't be taking any of these guys home," I reply firmly, "we don't need or want to do that kind of thing."

There's a bit of space at the bar, so the four of us make ourselves comfortable there and order some drinks, which are very much more expensive than in the previous bar. Also at the bar is a youngish looking dark skinned guy who turns out to be called F, and before too long we're talking to him as well.

"I'm actually flying back home to Mumbai tomorrow," says F once he's introduced himself, "so I thought I'd spend my last night having some fun here!"

It's not that crowded, and looking around, the people in the club fall into three categories. One category is our group, gay guys who're just looking for a fun night out, and happen to have ended up in a money boy club. The second category is the money boys themselves, showing off their bodies (and more intimate parts of their anatomies) to everyone, presumably hoping that someone will pay to take them home. Finally there are the much older guys who each seem to be on their own, none of whom are particularly attractive, and all of whom are very interested in the money boys!

Just before the "live sex show" starts, a couple of the money boys lay a blanket on the dance floor, and soon a couple of them are fondling each other and trying to make each other excited. Sitting at a table near the dance floor with boyfriend K, we get a good view of what's happening.

"I thought it would be sexy," says boyfriend K to me quietly, "but it's not, is it?"

"No, it's not," I say, agreeing with him.

"It's just sad," he says.

We spot one of the older customers making their way to the door with a big smile on his face. In tow is one of the money boys, who looks quite indifferent to his new friend. Meanwhile on the dance floor, the guys take it in turn to put each other's tackle in their mouths, but neither of them are particularly hard. "Sex" doesn't seem like a particularly honest description of what's happening!

"Do you trust the guys that we've met tonight?" asks boyfriend K.

"W and F seem real, but I'm not so sure about L," I reply after a bit of thought. "But buying him a drink or two is fine. After all, even at the high drink prices in this place, it's still not big money and it helps the night flow better :-)."

After the show, the two performers put their shorts on and come round searching for tips.

"How big you think I am?" asks one of them when he gets to the table that I'm sitting at with boyfriend K.

"Let's have a look then :-)," says boyfriend K playfully.

The guy whips it out from his shorts and stands there proudly, with his flaccid manhood near boyfriend K's face. Boyfriend K grins, and prods it gingerly with one of his index fingers.

"It doesn't look very big to me!" says boyfriend K honestly.

"Is 21.5, I show if you like?"

"OK, let's see then :-),"

"In private only, not expensive … ?"

"Um, no thanks," says boyfriend K, "I'll believe you!"

British guys typically measure themselves in inches, but with a measurement of 21.5, presumably Czech guys use centimetres. If Czech guys also use inches, then I'd be first in line to pay to have a look! The two performers move on to the next table, so me and boyfriend K go back to the bar to re-join L, W and F and buy some more drinks.

"So am I the best looking Asian guy here?" L asks me a bit later. Wow, he's clearly completely obsessed with himself and how he looks.

"Well, obviously for me the best looking Asian guy here is my boyfriend!" I reply.

"But I suppose you are the second best looking Asian guy," I continue, halfheartedly. Nonetheless, even though there are hardly any Asian guys in the club so that there's very little competition, he seems happy with my answer.

"And what do you think the best feature is on my face?" continues L, fishing for even more compliments.

"Your teeth," I reply honestly, after taking a good look at him. "Yes, you do have very good teeth :-)."

Again L seems happy with my answer, but I start to feel a bit sorry for him. It seems to me that he's got some kind of narcissistic personality disorder.

"So do you like any of the boys here?" he asks, finally changing the subject away from himself.

"They're OK for money boys, I suppose."

"So which one do you want to take home with you?"

"None of them!" I reply, starting to feel slightly annoyed.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm very happy going back to the hotel with just my boyfriend!"

"OK. After this place, we could go somewhere else I know, if you want?"

"What kind of place?" I ask, starting to feel very wary of him.

"It's a short taxi ride away, on the other side of the river," he replies, "and it's got lots of semi-private areas. You could all get sucked off in one of the alcoves there …"

"NO!" I reply, definitely annoyed now, "and please don't bother me with any more of your suggestions :-(."

The club starts to look a bit empty now that the shows are finished for the evening, and we all start looking around, wondering whether it's time to go. Suddenly, boyfriend K has an idea.

"Why don't we all go back to the previous place?" says boyfriend K, clearly in real party mood now.

"I've got to fly to Amsterdam tomorrow," says W.

"And don't forget I'm flying back to Mumbai tomorrow," says F.

"C'mon," says boyfriend K, putting on one of his winning smiles again, "just one drink!"

Neither W nor F want the evening to end either, so we prepare to leave and go back to Friends. Getting up at 6am to take photos while Prague is empty seems like a very remote possibility now!

"See you next time," I say to L, a friendly sounding thing to say of course, but not in the context of the rest of us going back to the previous bar! Hopefully that will deter him from joining us. He looks at me with a blank stare as though he doesn't care at all, and walks away to talk to one of the money boys that he seems to know. Meanwhile, W, F and boyfriend K are encouraging some of the other money boys to come along with us.

On the way out, we discover that on top of the cost of all the drinks, there's a 200 Czech Koruna entry charge per person. Given that L knew some of the staff here and that he'd been encouraging us to buy a money boy, I can't help wondering whether he gets a cut of what we spend. It seems especially strange that he didn't warn us about the entry charge.

Fifteen minutes later, shortly before 3am, we're back at Friends bar. There are about the same number of people here as there were when we were here earlier, although now I don't see any female couples. While we're ordering our drinks a few of the money boys turn up, and it seems only fair to buy them some drinks too given that we encouraged them to come. But now that we're in an ordinary bar again it doesn't cost that much :-). Boyfriend K and some of the money boys wander off to the dance area, while I sit down to chat with W and F.

"I came out to my family back in India when I was 18," says F, wanting to share some of his life story with me.

"That must have been a bit traumatic," I say sympathetically.

"It was quite an event for the family at the time, but they've got used to the idea now! I was in love with a guy at the time and we were boyfriends for a few years, but unfortunately that all came to an end."

We chat a bit more, but after an hour or so, both F and W need to leave to make sure that they catch their flights later in the day. I say goodbye to them, and start chatting to one of the money boys. There's one thing in particular that I'm keen to find out.

"Just curious, are you gay or straight?" I ask.

"I am straight," he replies, "and I have girlfriend."

"Wow, doesn't she mind that you do this job at Escape?"

"It a job for me. She from Thailand, I hope go and live with her Thailand."

His English isn't exactly perfect, but he seems like a nice guy so I offer to buy him another drink. He readily accepts, and asks if I can also get one for another of the money boys! It's all small money, especially in Prague where all alcoholic drinks seem exceptionally cheap, so I don't mind :-). While I'm at the bar, I get more drinks for me and boyfriend K as well.

Under normal circumstances I'm pretty bad on a dance floor, but as the drinks mount up over the course of an evening, suddenly I miraculously turn into the world's best dancer :-). That point had now definitely been reached, so I spend much of the next hour or two showing everyone else on the dance floor how to do it. Things get a bit hazy now, but I can remember dancing with some of the money boys, as well as boyfriend K of course. At one point I'm pretty sure that I got up onto the stage and pointed at boyfriend K while dancing to Mariah Carey's "All I Want For Christmas Is You", much to his embarrassed amusement. But eventually it's around 05:30am and the bar is starting to close.

"I've got a bloody brilliant idea," I say to boyfriend K as we start to leave, "it's not going to be necessary to get up early for photos at all! We can go and take all those pics and avoid the crowds right now :-)."

"I wanna go and sleep!" says boyfriend K, slurring his words slightly.

"C'mon," I say, putting on one of my winning smiles, "just one photo!"

It takes about ten minutes for us to walk over to the Charles Bridge, and it's amazing to see that even at this early hour, it's not completely deserted. For some reason, some of the photos that I take turned out to be a bit blurred, but luckily some of the others turn out fine:

Gradually we head back to our hotel, and away from the Charles Bridge and the Old Town Square, the streets are indeed deserted. Around 06:30am we take off all our clothes, climb into bed together, and quickly fall asleep in each other's arms. It had been a great night out :-), but somehow I don't think we'll be doing much sightseeing today!

The trouble with web sites like tripadvisor.com

This morning, I'm discussing with boyfriend K what hotel we're going to stay in on our next holiday.

"I've actually been there before :-)," I tell boyfriend K, pausing slightly, "because I went there with boyfriend T in 2009!"

Although boyfriend K never met boyfriend T, for some reason he's never comfortable when I mention his name. But on this occasion he doesn't react.

"So …" I continue, pointing to an area on the google map on my computer screen, "this is definitely the best area to stay in."

"But how can you say that?" complains boyfriend K.

"Because I've been there before :-)" I reply, feeling quiet confident in my answer.

"But don't forget you're a posh bitch!" retorts boyfriend K, playfully.

"But does it matter whether I'm rich or poor? That area has the best hotels, the best restaurants, the best night life …"

"Imagine you're a backpacker like I was ten years ago," interrupts boyfriend K.

"So if I'm trying to save money I'd stay here," he continues, pointing to a different location on the map, "and afterwards I'd be telling other backpackers that that's the *Best* place to stay. I'd tell them how cheap it is, and I'd tell them that it costs very little to catch a bus for a day trip to the place that you're talking about!"

I sit back and think about what boyfriend K has just said, and I realise that he's right. I'd forgotten how subjective the word "Best" is. And "Best" for me if I've got a reasonable income isn't going to be the same as "Best" for a budget traveller.

In general, I glad that websites like tripadvisor.com exist, because in theory it ensures that hotels and restaurants always need to be trying to give a good service. Tourists may be one time visitors, but their reports of good or bad experiences on the internet can encourage or deter visitors in the future. However, the conversation that I had with boyfriend K this morning made me realise that the rating systems that all these web site have are fundamentally flawed. In practice, perhaps those websites aren't as useful as they seem?

On holiday again

I'm now on holiday with my sister and her family. Back in the spring, my nephew (who now has a girlfriend) suggested that should all take a holiday together like we used to when he was much younger. The last time that we had a family holiday like that was back in 2005, and all of us always enjoyed it, so we decided to try doing it again :-). Even before I split up with Ex-boyfriend T, he was dubious about whether he'd be able to come along with us due to all his other commitments. However, my family were keen to invite ex-boyfriend S to come along, because we were boyfriends for such a long time that they all regard him as part of the family. Luckily he was available, and so we've all ended up coming away on holiday together again. Below are a couple of pics from the area where we're staying. Does anyone want to guess where we are?

The Hot House

It's near the end of my holiday with my Thai friend B. We've been rafting on the Zambezi river, we've been on safari in Botswana, and we're now in Cape Town for a few days to relax before flying back to the UK. Throughout the trip so far, I've managed to keep my promise to boyfriend T and be faithful to him. In connection with that, my Thai friend B has been so modest getting changed and having showers behind closed doors that I haven't even seen his naked buttocks!

"Are there any gay bars in Cape Town?" asks B, "Being on safari was great :-), but those safari camps were very straight so it would be good to mix with a few gay guys now."

"Yes I'm sure there are," I reply.

I dig out my laptop and use Google to do a bit of research.

"There's about half a dozen gay bars," I say after a few minutes, "and there's even a gay sauna called The Hot House!"

B looks at the relevant web sites and then looks at me with a cheeky grin on his face.

"Can we go to the Hot House, GB?"

I hesitate briefly. Going to the Hot House would be interesting, but given my promise to boyfriend T, I wouldn't be able to indulge in any activities myself. It also raises the uncomfortable prospect of seeing B getting intimate with another guy. I've always really liked B, and if things had happened a bit differently back in 2009 when I was boyfriend hunting, we might have ended up together. Seeing B get off with another guy will make me think "I wish that other guy was me"! Nonetheless, it’s a reasonable suggestion, and it also raises the possibility of me seeing B naked for the first time on this trip :-).

Within an hour, we've paid our 120 rand admission fee, and we're getting changed together in the locker room at The Hot House. We walk into the main bar area together, and immediately I spot a white guy who must be in his early 30's sitting by a computer, which is next to a sign which says "Limit 20 minutes". These must be the computers that are available to the sauna goers like us, for internet surfing or watching porn. Looking down at the towel round the guy's waist, I see that it's been loosened and he's sitting there with an enormous hard-on! He gives me a piercing glance, as though registering the fact that fresh meat has just walked through the door. Elsewhere in the bar area is a healthy mix of black and white guys of varying sizes and ages, although it does seem a bit empty.

There's a big notice on the wall saying:

Please shower before using the facilities

so we both head to find the showers. As I expected, given the kind of venue this is, the showers are open plan. While showering, I can't help myself peeking at B's naked body which looks absolutely gorgeous!

"I fancy the steam room," says B once we've put out towels back around our waists, "do you want to come with me?"

I sit in the steam room with B for a few minutes, but then I realise that to be a good friend, I should leave him to cruise on his own. I'm also curious to find out what other facilities there are here, so I get up and leave the steam room and go for a walk. There's a sauna, a couple of jacuzzis, a few dark areas, the usual maze of private cubicles equipped with those plastic-easy-wipe-clean mattresses, and a couple of TV's showing gay porn scattered among the maze of private cubicles.

When I return to the steam room it seems to be empty, but then an average looking chubby middle-aged white guy suddenly appears from behind a partition inside the steam room, followed by my Thai friend B looking a bit sheepish.

"Shall we go and find the sauna?" asks B, slightly nervously, once the white guy has left the room.

"That was quick!" I say indicating in the direction of the door where the white guy had just left.

"No, I didn't want him," replies B in a matter-of-fact voice, "I'm in Africa so I'm after an attractive Black guy, not a pasty old white guy!"

Inside the sauna B doesn't stay long. No doubt he wants to cruise on his own, as well as having a look at the other facilities, so he makes his excuses and leaves.

Within a few minutes, the sauna door opens again, and the white guy who had a hard-on at the computer walks in. He sits down quite close to me, and looks me up and down. About a minute later, he gently moves his right hand towards me, touching me lightly on my left knee. He's a perfectly reasonable looking guy, but I'm not here for activities, so I gently move his hand away. He looks at me with his piercing eyes again, as though he can't believe that I just did that, and then storms out of the sauna.

About fifteen minutes later, I'm sitting on a sofa in the main bar area, when the same white guy comes up and sits down next to me.

"Hi, I'm Henrik," he says, smiling at me.

"Hi Henrik, I'm GB," I reply, smiling back. I still don't want him to touch me, but it doesn't hurt to be sociable :-).

"Where are you from?"

"I'm from London, you?"

"I'm from Cape Town," replies Henrik, edging slightly closer to me.

"I'm only here because my friend wanted me to come along with him," I explain.

"Oh, are you straight?" he asks.

"Absolutely not! In fact I've got a boyfriend back in Europe who couldn't come on this trip. I hope you don’t mind that I'm not looking for anything."

But almost before I've finished explaining my behaviour, Henrik touches me gently again, this time on my chest where he almost imperceptibly rubs my right nipple with his left hand. Again I move his hand away, smiling again.

"You've got nice legs," says Henrik, completely unperturbed by what's just happened.

"Thanks you," I reply, "I go running :-)."

"Do you think I've got nice legs?"

He raises his right leg up so that I can get a better look.

"Yes, of course," I lie. His legs are OK, but nothing special!

We chat for another minute or two, but eventually he realises that he's not going to get anywhere with me and walks away. 10 marks out of 10 for perseverance! Even though I didn't end up having any fun with this guy, that fact that Henrik approached me boosts my confidence a bit :-).

Shortly afterwards, my Thai friend B comes to join me on the sofa, sitting down where Henrik had been sitting. I tell him what's just happened.

"But where have YOU been?" I ask him when I've finished my story, "have you found anyone yet to, errr, play with??"

"No, it seems very quiet in here!" replies my Thai friend B, sounding disappointed. But I'm not sure that I believe him. He looks somehow different, more relaxed, dare I say satisfied?

"Have you seen anyone in here that you like?" asks B, as I continue trying to analyse his towel and his appearance for the truth.

Now, there's a difficult question. The real answer is "Yes, the guy that I came here with", but it doesn't seem like the right moment to say that kind of thing. I pause, trying to work out what to say. If my relationship with boyfriend T comes to an end then I'd love to try dating B, but there's a danger that we're getting too far down the path of being friends. Moving from being 'friends' to being 'boyfriends' can be very tricky. I'd like to find a way of raising that idea now as a some kind of future possibility, because that should make it potentially more feasible in case I do find myself single again. But then again, I don't want to make B feel uncomfortable for the rest of the holiday. I also need to protect myself from rejection, in case it turns out that B doesn't like the idea of me being anything more than his holiday companion.

"No," I say, answering a question with a lie for the second time in ten minutes, "as you say, it's a bit quiet in here."

But gradually, perhaps because of B's relaxed and satisfied(?) frame of mind, we start talking about our past relationships. Although B has dated lots of guys, he's never had a proper boyfriend that he's lived in the same house with. Fifteen minutes later and we're still talking about dating and boyfriends when suddenly the right opportunity presents itself for me to tell B that I like him.

"You know," I say putting my hand on his shoulder and looking him straight in the eye, "sometimes I wish you were my boyfriend :-)".

That seems perfect. Even if he doesn't like the idea of me as anything more than his holiday companion, expressing my feelings as a (perhaps impossible) wish shouldn't make him feel too uneasy.

"But I'm happy as a single guy," answers B, "All these problems that you're having with boyfriend T, relationships just aren't worth the hassle!"

But now I know that it's B who's lying. In different situations, he's often expressed his regret to me that he still doesn't have a boyfriend. But it's a perfectly understandable lie. He may be saying that because he wants to let me down gently. But it's also possible that he's simply protecting himself, after all, as long as I have boyfriend T then even if he does like me I'm not available to be his boyfriend.

We chat a bit more but soon we start feeling hungry, so we head off to have a shower before leaving to find a restaurant. Again I get a chance to peek at B's naked body.

"Nice arse :-)," I say cheekily.

"But I'm sure boyfriend T's arse is nicer," replies B.

Of course, the truth is that they both have nice arses!

Honey Badger

On holiday in Africa, I'm getting on very well with my Thai friend B. After Victoria Falls, where we went white water rafting on the Zambezi, we head to Botswana for a week on safari.

Both safari camps that we stay at had one unexpected feature. No mobile phone or internet connectivity at all! I was in deep shock for the first couple of days, but I gradually got used to it. I'm also sure that being completely off the grid for a week did both me and my Thai friend B a lot of good, in terms of allowing us to relax and unwind. And watching wild animals on safari is always amazing :-).

"LOOK!" says our guide, while we're driving back to our tented camp in our jeep one evening, "Two honey badgers :-)!!"

Unfortunately it's dusk, and there's not enough light to take a photo. But there are two animals that do indeed look like badgers, scurrying along by the roadside.

"Hang on a minute," says the guide, and he veers the jeep off road to drive alongside the two cute little animals.

Almost all the animals that I've ever seen on safari have either ignored the jeep (that's what the big cats like lions and leopards do), or run away from it (that's what the vegetarians like giraffes and zebras do). But all of a sudden, the little honey badgers stop and turn towards the jeep, and growl viciously. The guide laughs, as though he expected that behaviour, but I'm mildly taken aback. The honey badgers are so small compared to the jeep. A big cat could in theory jump on the jeep and do some serious damage to us, but what on earth could a honey badger do?

A few days later at the next safari camp, during the evening meal, the topic of which jungle animal we'd all like to be comes up.

"One of the big cats, I guess," I say without much thought, "perhaps a leopard. Lions are impressive, but leopards are much more elegant!"

"I'd like to be a honey badger :-)!" says our guide with an enormous grin on his face.

"Really," I say surprised, "we saw a couple of honey badgers at our last camp, and they turned out to be vicious little creatures. What's so special about them?"

"When you get home, look up 'nasty honey badger' on youtube," laughs our guide, knowingly. "Then you'll know why I'd choose to be one of them!"

And indeed, when I get back to London I find the following youtube video. The narration is hilarious, and quite camp too so my guess is that narrator is gay. In any case, having seen the video, I completely understand why someone might want to be a honey badger!

Rafting on the Zambezi

The only pic of me that I've ever posted on this blog was the pic of me rafting in Chile with ex-boyfriend P back in 2008. The holiday pics that I posted earlier this month were taken at the Victoria Falls in between Zambia and Zimbabwe, and while there, we went rafting on the lower Zambezi river. So it seems time to post another pic of me, see below. The guide is at the back of the raft, with me, my Thai friend B, and four other tourists in front of him. I'm the middle tourist on the guide's right hand side. Needless to say, in terms of posting pics on this blog, I'm still a bit camera shy!If there are any readers who haven't tried white water rafting, I'd thoroughly recommend it. The guide that I had on this occasion was undoubtedly the best guide that I'd ever had for rafting, so if anyone goes rafting at the Victoria Falls, try and go rafting with the guide who calls himself "potato" from Bundu Adventures. One of the staff at the hotel where we were staying described it as "The most fun you can have with your clothes on!" and I think that's an accurate description :-).

On holiday with my Thai friend B

A couple of weeks ago, I did a post about the current state of my relationship with boyfriend T. In that post, I mentioned that I would soon be going on holiday with my Thai friend B. That holiday is now happening :-). When I used to blog more frequently, I often used to post a couple of holiday photos to see whether readers could guess where I was (see some of the posts with the 'holiday' label). So do any readers want to hazard a guess as to where we are at the moment, based on the two photographs below?




Update 23-Jul-2013: Click here to find out where these photos were taken!

A pic from a recent holiday

Last month, I was on holiday with boyfriend T, and when we arrived at seaside town I spotted a little feature on the side of a nearby hill. It almost seemed like they knew I was coming!

Another visit to GB in Shinjuki 2-chome, Tokyo

Last October, when me and boyfriend T were working out our plans for Christmas and New Year, we decide that we have to spend some time in Japan. So after Christmas by the beach, we say farewell to the friends that we were staying with and hop on a plane to Tokyo.

"I used to come to Tokyo regularly when I worked for that Japanese bank a few years ago," I tell boyfriend T during the flight, "but since I changed jobs, I've only been back once."

"All the same, I guess you know Tokyo reasonably well?" asks boyfriend T hopefully.

"I know a few things about the place :-)," I reply, "and if you're interested, I can even take you to the gay district and show you where I used to pick up Japanese guys!"

"Perhaps you'd prefer to go to that area alone?" giggles boyfriend T, "after all, I don't want to cramp your style."

"One of these days I might just take you up on that kind of offer," I laugh. "But it would be good if we could find time to go back there one evening, and see what's changed."

On our second night in Tokyo we go to a smart Sushi restaurant in Ginza for a delicious dinner, but outside on the street afterwards, we're not sure what to do. For some reason, boyfriend T always seems very interested in my sexual history, so when I suggest that we go over to the gay district he readily agrees. We catch a Marunouchi line subway train, and a short while later we arrive at Shinjuku-sanchōme. Navigating our way through the maze of tunnels leading to different exits, we finally manage to locate the staircase in the BYGS building and emerge up onto the street above.

We take a short walk and soon we're getting close to GB bar, which is perhaps the best known gay bar in Tokyo for foreigners like me.

"Those are the steps where the young Japanese guys used to sit and wait," I say, "pretending that they were just hanging out with each other, when in reality they were waiting to try and pick up gaijin like me!"

I feel slightly disappointed that tonight the steps are deserted. Opposite the steps, we head down to the basement, "And this", I continue, "is GB bar!"

Once inside, Boyfriend T looks round carefully. There are maybe twenty or so guys in the bar, but it's less crowded than I remember it.

"It's not as seedy as I expected!" says boyfriend T smiling. "How many guys did you pick up here?"

"Just a chubby fashion designer on one occasion," I answer truthfully, "I had much more luck on the street outside!"

We buy a couple of beers and settle down on two of the stools by the wall.

"It's also quite small, isn't it," remarks boyfriend T.

"And a bit smoky too :-(," I reply, "Living in London, I've forgotten what it's like to go into a bar where smoking is allowed."

For a while we look around at the other customers, trying to decide who the most shaggable guy is, apart from ourselves of course! A little later, some stools at the bar itself become available, so we move across to occupy them and get a better view of what's going on.

"Happy New Year everyone :-)," says a loud voice on our left suddenly, speaking to the whole bar in an unmistakable American accent.

A few guys look up and smile at the new arrival, who seems to be relatively well known. He takes a seat next to boyfriend T and orders a drink.

"I'm F," he says, smiling at boyfriend T, "and you are ... ?"

"I'm T," says boyfriend T smiling back.

"And I'm GB," I say, butting into their conversation and trying to make sure that F understands that me and boyfriend T know each other.

"Ahhh, are the two of you boyfriends?"

"Um, yes we are :-)," replies boyfriend T, smiling coyly at me.

"I've got a husband too," says F cheerfully, "but he's out of the country sunning himself at the moment, lucky devil!"

We strike up a conversation with F, who turns out to be a very friendly guy. After a short while he offers to buy us both a drink and it seems rude to refuse. Bizarrely, F seems happy to talk about even the most intimate details of his relationship with relative strangers like me and boyfriend T.

"How long have you guys been together?" F asks me and boyfriend T after a while.

"Over 18 months now," I reply, "how long have you been with your man?"

"Almost 10 years :-)," replies F, smiling, "but we switch it around a bit, to try and keep it fresh."

"How do you mean?" asks boyfriend T.

"Well, for the first few years I used to Top him relentlessly!" answers F, "but now I'll often take that role. Actually I really enjoy Bottoming for him now :-)."

"So are the two of you monogamous?" I ask.

"Yeah, but I don't think it's hard to be monogamous if your boyfriend is everything you want."

"And my boyfriend is exactly what I want," continues F, "I love his body, and love his cock. He's got a GREAT cock! It makes me choke when I give him oral, but that's EXACTLY what I want. No one wants a cock you can control, none of us want that do we?"

At this comment, boyfriend T starts laughing slightly, and I find myself getting caught up in the situation and laughing as well.

"No," continues F, laughing too, "what we all want is a huge uncontrollable monster of a cock! A cock that makes us gag, a cock that's got a mind of its own, a cock that forces itself on us and enslaves us to pander to its every whim :-)!!"

F is clearly very much the extrovert. The conversation continues for a while in much the same vein, during which time we manage to return the favour and buy F a drink, but eventually it seems like time to go.

Outside, the steps opposite the bar are still empty, but I doesn't matter to me any more. It's been good fun taking boyfriend T to GB bar, but more importantly, the conversation with F has reminded me of one simple fact. It's reminded me how much I love boyfriend T, because putting it simply, boyfriend T is everything that I want :-).

Christmas 2010

I simply couldn't stand the cold weather in London any more! So with boyfriend T away visiting his family, I caught a plane out of Heathrow and spent Christmas day at a friend's house, located somewhere a bit warmer!





Wherever you spent Christmas this year, I hope you had fun :-).

GB xxx

Travelling again

I've been travelling again, so as usual when that happens, I've haven't had much time to write posts for this blog. The last weekend in August, me and boyfriend T went to visit some friends for a long weekend, and then the first weekend in September we left London for a longer holiday.

Below I've posted four pics. The first two are from the long weekend at the end of August, and the last two are from the start of this longer holiday. But can anyone identify the countries where the pictures were taken (or for full marks, the cities where the first and the fourth photo were taken)?

The Enchanted Forest

Earlier this month, the town of Sitges in Spain held its first ever gay pride event, so me and boyfriend T plus a few other friends decided to go along. Although I generally prefer to be in the UK over the summer, when the weather here can be quite reasonable, I also like to try and spend a week somewhere in southern Europe too. The gay pride event in Sitges provided a perfect excuse for such a holiday. Having booked the flights, plus a nice apartment near the centre of town with its own swimming pool, we were all set.

The main gay pride parade itself was quite impressive, and much more colourful than the corresponding event in London. Indeed, the London gay pride parade is more political, with lots of different sections of British society just marching to show that they've got gay people as well. By contrast, the Sitges event was simply good fun! A lot of work had gone into all the floats in the parade, and everyone was just there to enjoy themselves :-).

A couple of days after the gay pride parade, it's way past midnight and I'm wandering back to our apartment with boyfriend T.

"Look GB," says boyfriend T casually, "There are a few guys loitering down there on the beach, what do you think they're doing?"

"Most likely cruising each other!" I answer sagely.

Indeed, one of my friends had told me that some of the beaches can get quite cruisey at night, and presumably during gay pride week there's more activity than usual.

"Really?" replies boyfriend T sounding surprised, "I've never been to a cruising area, so can we go and have a look?"

"OK, but cruising isn't really a spectator activity."

We head down to the beach and start walking along amongst the small number of guys who're down there. I try to look uninterested, and I manage to catch the eye of a couple of guys as I walk past them, but boyfriend T is a bit like a little puppy who's been let out to play in the garden for the first time! After a short while, we head up to the promenade and continue our stroll home.

"Not much going on was there :-(," says boyfriend T.

"Actually, I thought that there was quite a lot going on!" I answer, "I mean, what were all those guys doing down there? Sure, everyone looked as though they were minding their own business, but I managed to catch the eye of a few of them :-)."

"Really? How did you do that??"

"Well, you have to act cool, and pretend that you're just there for a walk or something," I explain, "and then eventually, just with eye contact and a perhaps a nod of the head, it might be possible to follow a guy somewhere a bit quieter for some fun!"

"Oh, is that how it works?"

"Yes, probably!" I reply.

"OK then," says boyfriend T laughing slightly, "show me how you'd do it then!"

I start laughing too, which of course is one of the worst things to do in a cruising area. Spotting a tree a short distance away, I walk towards it, managing to regain my composure on the way. Once at the tree, I turn round to lean against it, resting one foot on the trunk and with a distant expression on my face. Boyfriend T walks up to look at me, and starts laughing.

"Stop it!" I say with a broad smile on my face, before losing my composure and laughing too, "Cruising is a serious business!!"

"I think I understand," replies boyfriend T, "So can we go back and have another look sometime?"

"I've got a better idea. There's a cruising area just outside town called The Enchanted Forest. It's just inland from the gay nudist beach. We could have a walk out there sometime :-)."

So one afternoon a few days later, while our friends are relaxing around the pool in our apartment, me and boyfriend T decide to take a walk out to The Enchanted Forest.

"How did you find out about this place?" asks boyfriend T on the way.

"I visited it once with ex-boyfriend S in the 1990's. I imagine that it's still there, but be prepared in case it doesn't exist now. I can't be certain."

"And did you have sex with ex-boyfriend S while you were there?" asks boyfriend T.

"No! Why do you ask?"

"Good!" he answers, "Having sex with one's boyfriend in a cruising area seems so unnecessary and unromantic."

"Maybe," I reply, "but it's also quite a horny idea, don't you think?" and with that I reach over and give his swimming trunks a slight tug downwards. He looks at me disapprovingly.

It takes about fifty minutes to walk out to the forest. The first sandy bay we reach is the straight nudist beach, but continuing along the railway tracks we soon reach the second bay which is where the gay nudist beach is.

"Right," I say authoritatively, "The Enchanted Forest is just across the railway tracks from here!"

Looking both ways to make sure that no trains are coming, we cross the tracks and head into the forest. Soon we come to an area where the trees are quite widely spaced.

"Actually it's mildly disgusting," whispers boyfriend T, in case there's someone listening who we can't see, "I've spotted a couple of used condoms. Why can't guys take their mess with them?"

Hanging up on one of the trees we see some swimming trunks too, although it's far from obvious as to what they're doing there! Deeper inside the forest, we come across another area with literally dozens of discarded condoms and condom wrappers, plus discarded tissues draped over some of the plants. I feel a bit like a big game hunter looking for a rare rhinoceros. There's lots of evidence of cruising all around, but no actual cruisers. However, I decide not to treat it as a hunting expedition and examine the discarded tissues in detail, because working out how old the tissues are is unlikely to help us find the most active cruising area!

On our way back to the railway line, we cross the area where the trees are quite widely spaced again, but this time we're not alone. There are a couple of guys loitering there, apparently just minding their own business, and as we pass by they look us up and down. But then we see another guy approaching, and boyfriend T looks at me in horror. Apart from his boots, this guy is completely naked!

Boyfriend T quickly heads off in the opposite direction, trying to make sure that the naked guy doesn't get any closer to him. Although I can't resist looking the naked guy up and down, he's not at all my type so I decide to follow boyfriend T back to the beach. The walk back into Sitges is uneventful, but along the way we discuss what had just happened.

"That's just too much!" says boyfriend T to me when we're out of earshot.

"But at least there's no doubt that we found some guys cruising :-)," I reply, finding the situation mildly amusing.

"Indeed!" answer boyfriend T, "But honestly, what's the point of all your advice about looking like one is minding one's own business and trying to be cool, when some guys just cut through all that bullshit by cruising in the nude?"