Those Strangely Intimate Moments of Gay Male Friendship

January 23, 2012 in General

On Saturday morning I usually have breakfast with two of my closest and most important friends, have done for years and years and years, but this weekend I cancelled because I had an appointment with some other good mates, let’s call them “Ken” and “Spike” (see, I can be discreet!) . Ken and Spike show up at 9:45 with their mate Jim, and we pile into the car and off to Newmarket we go!

You see, Spike has wanted a tattoo for decades, and now that Ken had had one done he decided he simply had to get his done too, and it was an easy birthday present for Ken. And Ken and me, well, we’d decided a few weeks back we wanted to get a Prince Albert, get our cocks pierced, so why not do it together?

Jim? I’d never met him before – he was just their friendly trade from the night before coming along to watch. As you do.

You can just imagine that post-coital conversation:

Spike:”Hey Jim, that was really hot mate, thanks. By the way, I’m getting a tatt done tomorrow morning and Ken and a mate are getting their dicks pierced – wanna come watch?”

Jim: “Hmm, ok, sounds fun, but I have to be somewhere by midday.”

Spike: ”No worries, it’ll all be over by then mate.”

Jim: “Yeah, ok, cool.”

But I digress.

As we were driving along, with a little nervous laughter all round the car, Ken said “This is one of those strangely intimate moments of gay male friendship” hence the title. And really, when you think about it, it is strangely intimate. It is the sort of thing that is not uncommon among gay men. I bet I know heaps more about my gay mates’ bodies, sex-lives and kinks than straight male friends ever do with their mates. We were just your typical urban homos – the happy couple of Ken and Spike, me, and their (very nice and smart) fuck Jim, all off for a morning’s fun.

I actually had already had my cock pierced 10 years ago, but a few weeks after I’d had it done I dropped some acid and was tripping at the Grey Lynn Fair and playing with it and got the ball off it and then couldn’t get it back in and then the ring came out and by the time I came down next day I simply couldn’t get it back in.

Obviously telling stories like these I am never going to run for public office.

So we arrived at Streetwise on Broadway in Newmarket. I’d heard of them before but never been. They do tatts and piercings. I’ve had tattoos from three different studios around town but never here, might give them a go for the next one. Anyway, nice bright and clean looking premises. Big tick. Staff have tatts and piercings. Big tick. Good. A sign saying “Professional Piercers Don’t Use Piercing Guns!” Good – they know their stuff. Spike goes off to his studio to be inked, and we three walk into the piercing room.

Ken had already decided he wanted to go first – the coward was scared if he saw what was involved he’d back down. Jim and I sat there, as Ken lay down on the bench. I looked up and saw they had training diplomas from the Gauntlet, he and his wife had trained there in the late 90s, and immediately I felt fine. This is often seen as the homebase of the modern piercing wave, and had a great reputation so if they’d trained there I was happy. The buzz of Spike’s ink getting done came through from  the next room.

As the piercer started in he said “It’s probably a bit strange for you having some stranger poke and prod your cock like this” Jim and I started giggling. Nothing strange going on there for Ken at all! He explained the procedure carefully, I really liked the way he did everything, very calm, obviously knew how to keep everything sterile,  he was practical and friendly.

Ken wanted photos, so I took a few as it all was happening. Before he put the guide down Ken’s urethra he said “Now you’re probably not used to people putting stuff down your cock” and I think all three of us started giggling again. Ken looked nervous, his hands gripping the sides of the bench. I made some crack about him letting a total stranger stick a lump of steel through his cock – not sure if that was helpful or not.

“Take a big breath in! And let it out!” Ken’s back arched on the bench, and as he breathed out it was all done. It really is very fast. A second of intense pain – then it aches, then it’s sort of vaguely uncomfortable, then it’s wrapped up and fine. Seriously, after a few minutes, the pain has gone – it’s less painful than getting your tit pierced, but probably more than getting your ears done I’d say.

And then it was my turn, and what can I add? It was fine – a big ouch for a second – Jim reached out to give me a steadying hand, but it was already over by the time his arm got that far -  then it was all fine, and hardly any bleeding. We tried to talk Jim into it be he wasn’t convinced…yet…

But it was fun, and it is one of those social encounters that I think is normal until someone points out that it’s not really. I mean, I’ve never fucked with any of these guys, Ken and Spike are just mates, but sure I’ve seen their cocks and we all know what each other gets up to and likes, and that’s not that strange for loads of gay guys. It did suddenly strike me as funny  that here I was with Ken, and a total stranger Jim, doing all this, but I also liked the fact.

Why do it? Well I like Prince Alberts on guys – I like the look, I lke the feel,  and I always regretted not being able to keep my first one in. And they do make you more sensitive, no doubt about it. As for the name, as our friendly piercer said, no-one knows for sure if there is any truth behind the story or not, but anthropology tells us guys have been piercing their genitals in all sorts of ways for thousands of years. And Spike’s tattoo looks great.

At a bbq later another friend who hadn’t been there said as he left “So you two are PA Buddies now!” and we are.

And we got to share in one of those strangely intimate moments of gay male friendship, and I am glad of that.