To shake or not to shake

A reader recently sent me the story below, and asked me to conduct a poll of my male readers. He seems quite keen to know the answer, so if you're a guy, please vote :-).

I'm an observer, but not an observer of everything. I only keep a lookout for select and interesting things. Things like the sounds that emanate from the cubicles in the gents. I know you're now wondering, "what could those sounds be"? Sounds of a guy in distress after a night of chicken tikka massala, or that hot jerk chicken he thought he could handle? That sounds like blowing raspberries, that's the best way to describe those sounds. Then there's another sound that I've been hearing for the past few weeks.

A sound that I hear after a guy has finished peeing in the toilet. There's a few moments of silence, then the zipper sound, and then he exits. I wasn't quite sure what the sound was after the guy had finished peeing. Half of my brain was having one thought and the other half was disbelieving. This needed some investigation!

In my office there's just 3 cubicles in the gents on my floor, so having worked out who the usual suspects were, I waited in the middle cubicle. As far as I was concerned I was undertaking legitimate business. Investigative business.

One of the suspects comes in. He has a pee and pauses. There's what sounds like a wiping sound and then the flush. Surely he didn't have a dump. His shoes were always in standing posture: I used to do yoga so I can bend and see things what most guys wouldn't be able to. My analysis included several weeks of careful observation. The list of suspects grew. I never realized there was such a big market for men who wipe their penises. Where have the days of a good shake gone?

I set out to further analyse. In Muslim homes, one of the first teachings for little boys is to wipe when you pee and wash your hands. I also know that in non-religious families, some mothers encourage good hygiene by wiping their son's penises after a pee. Little boys are clumsy with their aim so understandably they need to wipe not only their penises but everywhere else. I admit, there's something slightly naughty about a shake. Not because droplets could go on hands, trousers or the floor, but because it's marking the territory - just like the animals do on the discovery channel. Additionally, wiping just seems like so much more clinical, and more work.

I tend to favour a good shake. Maybe 2 or 3 average. I think anything beyond 3 shakes and you border on masturbation. If it's before bedtime and I know that some activities with my husband await, I wipe after a pee. But at the office when I stand at a urinal and have had a pee, I don't have any inclination to wipe, and nor do any of the other guys who use the urinals for that matter.

On a recent holiday to Spain I noticed that two of the gent's toilets I visited had no toilet paper. Does that mean the Spaniards prefer to shake and not wipe? On many trips to Soho in London I've not seen any of the gay boys wipe after a pee. In fact, they average 4-5 shakes while looking across at you.

I'm keen to ask a few close friends of mine if they have a preference. Just to get a better idea if this is a growing trend, to work out whether I need to jump on this bandwagon. But as part of my research, perhaps GB's male readers could vote using the buttons on the right hand side.

If you shake, I suggest you pay attention to a little rhyme I learnt ages ago. "If you sprinkle while you tinkle, be a sweetie, wipe the seatie!"

Update 8-Aug-2010 8:18am
Well, the poll has now closed and it seems that we're largely shakers, see graph below. I find it interesting that 7% of readers neither wipe or shake, which strikes me as slightly uncivilised. However, I know that some gay guys enjoy the company of men who are a bit bestial! Anyway, in spite of HBH's request to reveal my toilet habits, I'm feeling a bit shy so you'll all just have to guess :-). GB xxx

Soft boy

A few days ago, I came across a diary that I'd written when I was only 10 years old. That was way before we all had computers, so naturally the diary was hand written.

In some ways, writing a diary is similar to keeping a blog up to date. One has to do it regularly, or there's no point. So perhaps the practice that I got all those years ago writing my little diary was early training to be a blogger!

Looking through my old diary, I found deciphering my appalling young hand-writing quite hard. But eventually I came across an entry that made me laugh:

SCHOOL. It started today. I went to sea all my friends again. We had a new boy his name is Michel. His eyes looked red and I think he is a Soft boy.

Apart from the fact that I can't spell "see", I obviously thought that I was a Tough Boy rather than a Soft Boy, whatever that meant to my young mind LOL! Luckily I've mellowed a bit since then. I don't think I'd have got many Dear GB emails if I'd maintained that attitude to people who need a little bit of help.

When I showed the diary entry to boyfriend T, I also told him that I could remember being at that school, and being very interested in looking at the other boys when they were naked in the showers after sport. But I didn't know why I was interested. Once he'd heard that, he decided that it must have been me who was the Soft Boy after all!

Did any other readers keep diaries when they were children? If so, can anyone let us know what they were writing about when they were around 10 years old?

The Operation

A few days ago, I went out for lunch with Christine, who's the male to female transgender lesbian that I used to work with. As I walk to the restaurant, I start wondering whether I'll recognise her, because the last time I met her was in the late 1990's when she was a man. But more than that, there's another question on my mind. Has she actually had The Operation and had her bits removed? I'd love to know the answer to that, the only problem is that it feels like quite a rude question to ask!

"Hi, I've got a reservation, the name's GB," I say to the restaurant staff on arrival.

"That's fine," replies the polite maître d', "your guest has already arrived :-)."

As I walk with him to the table, I struggle to see if I can spot Christine before she sees me. But all the tables seem to have two or more people at them, or people who couldn't possibly be her. Suddenly though, we walk around one of the restaurant's large flower arrangements and there she is, and just about recognisable after all.

"Hi," I say to her as I sit down at the table, "it's good to see you again :-). But, um, this does seem a bit strange ..."

"That's OK," she replies in quite a soft voice, "I'm sure you'll get used to it :-)."

Overall, I'm impressed with the transformation. Although on close inspection it is possible to tell that she used to be a man, her face does look feminine. She has quite straight and long hair with a light golden colour, but given her age, I can't help thinking that it must have been dyed that colour.

We start chatting, and gradually, she tells me her story. She'd known since she was a young boy that she should have been a woman. In her early 20's, she said that she almost jumped off a cliff in despair, when she thought that it would never be possible for her to live as a woman. For her banking career and marriage to her wife, she'd managed to put all her gender issues aside, and for a while she thought that she wouldn't have to worry about those issues any more. But eventually, partly as a result of marital problems with her wife, she realised that she'd have to confront and solve the problem.

"Well you do look good," I tell her, "just about recognisable, but much much more feminine!"

"Thank you :-)," she replies, still speaking softly, "You probably don't know the details about how men have a different bone structure to women. For example, I had to have surgery to make my jaw less square."

"Wow, sounds very painful."

"Yes, it was! But thank goodness that everything is over with now :-)."

"So you really have had ALL the surgery then?" I ask, seizing the opportunity. I glance down from her face to her plate in front of her on the table and back to her face again, just to make sure she knows what question I'm trying to ask.

"Oh yes, I had the lower surgery too," she says, with a big smile on her face.

"Wow, how was that?"

"I wasn't prepared for the result," she replies, obviously quite happy to discuss the subject, "It was amazing, because I felt completely re-born. I was crying for two weeks afterwards, tears of joy! I didn't expect to feel that way."

I also didn't expect to hear that answer. I definitely enjoy that part of my anatomy, so hearing how wonderful it was for someone to have it all cut off is difficult to understand.

"The only problem now," she continues, "is my teenage children. I feel like a teenager again which is wonderful for me, but I think my children are finding it hard to accept the changes."

"I can understand some of that," I say, "because I also felt like a teenager again when I came out as gay during my 20's."

Finding out how Chris turned into Christine was absolutely fascinating. However, the one subject that I didn't manage to broach was the fact that she put in one of her emails to me that she now regards herself as a gay woman. Maybe we'll get around to discussing that the next time we meet :-).

Joke

One day, Kai is at school and the teacher asks all the boys in the class what their fathers do for a living.

The boys shout out lawyer, banker, member of parliament etc, but Kai keeps his mouth shut. So the teacher asks him, "Kai, does your father have a job"?

"Yes," answers Kai sheepishly, "My dad dances in a gay club and takes all his clothes off for the men. If they pay enough, he'll go out with a man, rent a hotel room and sleep with them."

The teacher quickly sends the other boys out to lunch and takes Kai aside to ask him if that was true.

"No," replies Kai, "the truth is that he plays football for England, but I was too embarrassed to say!"

I know that there's a mild homophobic reference in the joke, because it expects people to think that being gay is embarrassing. None the less, after England's performance in the World Cup last month, it made me laugh!

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?"

On holiday again

I guess I should apologise to readers for my lazy blogging recently. Only a week after I asked readers to guess where I took boyfriend T for our one year anniversary, I'm now asking readers to guess where we've gone on holiday! When I'm away from London I find it hard to find time to blog, but since I hate leaving it too many days without posting, putting up a couple of holiday pics gives me something to post with minimal effort.

So, can anyone guess where the pics below were taken? And for additional marks, can anyone say why we chose this particular holiday destination?

Shopping

Last weekend, while I'm away at Cliveden with boyfriend T celebrating our one year anniversary, we start chatting about what's important to us in our lives.

"So how important am I to you?" I ask boyfriend T over dinner on the first night.

"Very important of course :-)," he replies without thinking, smiling at me.

"But how important am I relative to other things in your life, such as your work, your friends, your family etc?"

"I guess they're all important, but there's one equally important thing that you've missed out," he says, with a cheeky glint in his eye, "... Shopping!"

"What?" I reply in disbelief, "you mean that I'm only as important to you as a shopping trip??"

"I really really enjoy shopping!" he laughs, "so all I'm saying is that shopping is important to me as well :-). Don't you just LOVE going shopping?"

"Well it's OK," I answer, not sure how serious he's being, "although I usually get tired of it after a couple of hours or so."

Thinking back, I can remember having a similar conversation with ex-boyfriend P. He told me that he'd sometimes end up on marathon shopping trips with friends, lasting literally all day. On one occasion, he also told me that he thought that I was a bit of a lightweight when it comes to shopping, because I always end up getting bored!

"But do you enjoy all types of shopping," I ask, "including shopping for more mundane items such as toilet paper?"

"Sure," he replies, "it's still shopping :-)."

Actually, I do think that some types of shopping can be fun, for example when one visits all the top fashion stores and tries on new clothes :-). However, I definitely find shopping for every day items a real chore :-(. I've known quite a few gay guys who love shopping, so perhaps boyfriend T's attitude isn't that unusual for a gay man. Since he's still very closeted, though, it may be a problem for him. Some of his characteristics are very straight, but if he wants to hide his sexuality, this addiction to retail therapy is a real give-away!

Anniversary weekend trip out of London

Just over a year ago, I took boyfriend T to watch the Gay Pride parade in London. It was over breakfast the following day that we agreed to be boyfriends! So for our 1 year anniversary of being each other's boyfriend, we took a short trip out of London to celebrate :-). But can any readers guess where we went from the pictures below?

Time Out

A few weeks ago, I received a request from London's Time Out Magazine for an interview. They wanted a face to face meeting with blogger GB, and a photoshoot too, but I'm far too shy to go along with those ideas! However, Time Out is a well respected publication, so I found the concept of doing an interview for them hard to resist. Following an exchange of emails, I eventually agree to talk to one of their editors anonymously on the telephone. And a couple of weeks later, this blog ends up being one of five blogs featured in an article titled "The London Sex Diaries" :-).

In the article, they call me "The anonymous sexed-up city worker", and print an excerpt from my post about visiting a guy for fun wearing Black Tie. After that comes the interview:

Tell us a little about yourself ...
I've been working in banking since the late 1980's. I had a long term boyfriend from 1989 to 2007. Since then I've had three boyfriends.

Why did you start the blog?
I thought that I had a few stories that I could tell. I liked the concept that someone could write about all this naughty stuff and remain anonymous. It's very cathartic.

As well as writing about your sex life, you've branched out into relationship advice. Why?
The sex stuff became repetitive so I was getting bored of it. People started to write to me for advice and that seemed to get quite popular.

Have any former partners realised it's you?
My ex-boyfriend had no idea. But another boyfriend I had briefly did. We were on holiday and he saw the words "Gay Banker" on my computer. He ended up finding it online before I was able to explain.

What won't you write about?
A lot of people put a lot more detail in about who did what to whom. I shy away from that. For me, it's more about the conversations. There's a bit of soft stuff about kissing and touching but I don't go any further than that, rather than including all that "I put my cock in his arse" sort of stuff.

I'm always a bit wary of any contact with the media, because some journalists and publications seem to make a living out of writing nasty things about people and wrecking their lives! However Time Out doesn't seem to be like that, and indeed, from my point of view they wrote a good article :-).

If any London based readers are interested in seeing the full article, it's in the current Time Out magazine (July 1-7 2010). However, readers elsewhere won't be able to get a copy, so in case anyone's interested the other four featured bloggers are:

• Girl with a One Track Mind: she's the famous blogger who was outed just as the book about her sex life was published. A perfect example of the media wrecking someone's life!
• Men I wish I hadn't slept with: what a great title :-). But it's by a straight woman rather than a gay man!
• Naïve London Girl: A kinky American woman on the loose in London.
• MonMouth: The bondage-loving guy who likes to try anything. Although as far as I can tell from glancing briefly at his blog, he's straight!

Did any readers of this blog see this article in print?