So I recently heard from an old friend from my college days, and it made me reminisce that it was one of the first times I had to do aftercare for a scene… before I even knew that was the word for it.
Short backstory… I’m old enough that in college, there was no internet. No cell phones. So that means no Grindr, Recon, texting, email, etc. Which made it difficult for a struggling with sexuality college student to find resources.
I did have a big crush on this guy named Ben. He was sweet, Latino, slim, friendly, openly gay, and relatively promiscuous. He would regale me with his stories of sexual adventures, including when he was sleeping over at a friend’s house, only to be awakened by his friend sucking him off while he slept (which is still a sort of hot idea to me). And orgies he’d have in hotels on trips. The stories were all pretty vanilla, but sexually adventurous to me (essentially still a virgin at 21) nevertheless.
My sexual cherry was popped by a guy named Jim who I met via a newspaper ad (you can read about that adventure here and here). And while Ben and I stayed great friends, we never really did do anything sexual… even though he did know I was finding my kinky side (I discovered the magazine Bound & Gagged at this time), as well as my foot fetish (which I had sort of known about all my life, though I didn’t know it was a common thing at that time). He knew I liked him, but he seemed pretty determined to keep us in the friend zone. And we did get along well as friends, so I didn’t mind–I took what I could get.
Fast forward, and Ben and I actually got an apartment together. We had separate bedrooms, and despite what you’d think, we still didn’t really fool around together. He would occasionally tease me by showing off his foot, but I didn’t even really get to smell, lick, or kiss those. I did repeatedly tell him that I’d love to tie him up. He hadn’t really done any bondage before (and really, neither had I, despite many fantasies), but I thought it’d be a fun way to explore.
And believe it or not, but after seemingly months of asking, he finally said yes. I stripped him, hogtied him on his stomach, sat in front of him, and had him suck my cock. The image of that, as I ordered him to blow me, and seeing my cock disappear into his mouth was one that got me off for years later, and is still pretty damn sexy to me as I think of it now.
I spread eagled him face down, and whipped him a bit with a belt. Then something unexpected happened. He started to cry.
That caught me off guard. I nearly didn’t know what to do, but I did have the wherewithall to untie him immediately. I cradled him in my arms and asked him if he was okay. He said he was, and that he didn’t know why he was crying. I suggested that perhaps it was just some sort of emotional release for him. We sat that way for a while, and he was eventually fine. Obviously we didn’t continue with the scene.
We never did have sex again (vanilla or otherwise). Perhaps surprisingly, it didn’t really change our friendship, but other circumstances had us moving our separate ways not much later on friendly terms. We never really did speak much of that particular experience again.
We did lose touch for many years, despite a few attempts to find him via google or facebook. He was able to track me down. He’s now in Mexico, so a visit may not be in the cards anytime soon, but it was great to hear from him again. And I guess you could say that was my first experience with aftercare.
