I could not have been in any steamier place or time for my sexual awakening. Bangkok, Thailand, in the eighties was sin city extraordinaire. Anything went there; everything was tolerated. It was a mai bin rai ("nevermind; whatever, it's OK") place, and everything was not only tolerated, but it also was on offer—and almost always for free or at a very good price. And it was an innocent time. The mellow follow-on years after the hippy era of "if it feels good, do it" and before anyone had ever heard the term AIDS.
The U.S. government was also partly to blame for my development of an interest in the gay life style. I was a young government pilot of the SR71 photo reconnaissance aircraft, and politics had shut us down for several months of my Bangkok tour and had allowed me to turn my interests elsewhere other than soaring higher above the earth than anyone else could at the time.
I had time on my hands, and, thus, when there was a casting call for the Bangkok Community Theatre's production of the new Ira Leven thriller Deathtrap, to be performed at the Bhirasri Institute off Sathorn Road, I auditioned and won the part of the young protagonist, Clifford Anderson. I had acted through high school and college, and exotic Bangkok had set my creative juices boiling. Opposite me, in the older man's role of Sidney Bruhl, was an expatriate queen in his late forties who I will call Ron (primarily because that was his name). Ron had taught English for years at the American University Association in Bangkok, banished from the United States by his rich family because he had the gall to be gay at a time when it wasn't fashionable, at least flamboyantly and in public. He had outlived his family, however, and inherited their money and was having the last laugh by living in style in a mansion near Sathorn Road with his choice of young men who were interested in his money (and in each other).
Ron had been attracted to me and he regularly gave me expert, soft-mouthed blow jobs in our shared dressing room throughout the run of the play to release the tension we both felt after an exhilarating performance. I also fucked him doggy style once at his request, but I'll have to admit that I found his blow jobs more satisfying. He asked me to move into the mansion with him and his friends then, but I didn't consider myself for sale—driving a stealth jet paid quite well—and not to mention that I had a wife and children I wasn't going to abandon.
At the time, Ben, a U.S. Army lieutenant assigned to the Joint U.S. Military Advisory Group was living with Ron, and Ben threw Ron a cast party at the mansion following the closing night of the play.
All of the woman and straight men involved in the play departed the party early, no doubt not all that comfortable with the special friends Ben had invited to Ron's party, but I stayed on. I had realized by this time that this was a special time and place for me, sexually, and I wanted to make the most of it. It wasn't long before my wish was granted.
I was returning from the bathroom, half snookered, down a long, dark hallway, when I was accosted by Ron's live-in, Ben. He just turned my back to the wall in the hallway, planted his palms on either side of my shoulders, and came in for a long, wet kiss. Ben was pretty much a hunk, so I just went with the flow. It was a hot evening, and everyone left was starting to shed clothes. I had my shirt open and Ben had no shirt on at all. He rubbed his chest and basket against mine and made me feel pretty rubbery in the knees.
After another kiss on the lips and a couple on my nipples, he told me to turn around, belly to the wall, and I did so. He took my shirt off me and then stripped down my pants and briefs, so that all I was wearing were my loafers. He placed his hands on my hips where they joined my waist, with his thumbs across my butt cheeks, and I remember thinking that this simple gesture seemed to mark his full possession of me, at least for that moment. If I'd ever had the inclination to cut and run, this ended any such thought. He kissed and tongued his way down my back He knelt behind me and must have taken his own pants off then, because I wasn't aware of that happening later, and I felt a hand come between my thighs and signal that I was supposed to open up my stance, which I did. The hand came on through, and he pulled my cock back between my legs and stroked it, while his tongue and lips search for—and found—my asshole in the folds of my butt cheeks. All the while, the music and laughter were wafting down the hall at us from the living areas of the mansion.
I had my hands raised to either side of my shoulders and my palms and cheek hugged the cool plaster interior wall of the old mansion. I wasn't thinking anything except what a new exhilarating experience I was having. All of my senses were focused on the cock and the asshole that this handsome hunk of an Army lieutenant were making love to. I was footloose in Bangkok, my family having gone back to the states early for summer R&R. Everything was allowed as long as it felt good. And this felt great.