I pulled on my black chinos, grey t-shirt, black leather jacket, and some black zipper shoes that I had purchased from a Queen in Tijuana. Shaved, brushed my teeth, and moussed the hair and I was out, not before giving a wink back at my Buddy Christ who gave me the thumbs up on my stereo speaker.
I took a raggedy bus all the way to downtown under a blast of big blue Texan sky. Now, dressed this good I knew I was going to cause a ruckus. Your average citizen would be comfortable in a black and wrinkled Iron Maiden T-shirt, green army pants, and sneakers. Very butch to be sure, but I decided to turn heads. But, for the moment, I was upstaged. There was this old drunk wobbling to and fro harassing the few people at the bus stop adjacent to the Plaza. He was asking some unintelligible gibberish when this other equally unfortunate slob - looked like Poopdeck Pappy - strode up and popped him in the jaw. The old drunk went flying into the street - money and personal affects spilling everywhere. The old man hobbled away into a convenient store as the old drunk jumped back up, screaming obscenities into the sky and swinging fists.
The city bus, with a whine and some protest of gears, stopped to pick us up, screaming drunk and all. The bus was full with folk, old corpses in the front, petrified whites in the middle, and the cool kids in the back. All permeated by the screaming baby and the screaming drunk. My head began to throb...but, NO! - I will not become bitter. Gazing out at the passing decaying urban sprawl I saw XXX Adult Shop on Texas Ave. and my hopes lighted. I always got time for porn!
Off the bus, through the turnstile into the shop I was met by several dubious eyes as the cruising Mexicans and elderly watched my every move. Like animals sensing danger their heads slowly rose behind stacks of porn as I brazenly approached the clerk and plunked down five dollars. "Your theater, please."
Entering the small cinema, my eyes adjusted to the putrid darkness as my nose adjusted to the smell of spent semen and unwashed penis. Up on the screen, some bimbo was getting it doggy-style by a black gentleman, sweaty and grunting. I took a seat near the far wall in the corner. Not before my seat let out it's last adjusting creak, did this old grey phantom with halitosis plop next to me. With galvanized movements, his gnarled hand creeped along his leg and onto my knee. I grabbed his hand and hissed, "Look, Yoda, I'm in hear to enjoy myself - so keep your semen stained mitts off of me, got it?" I got up and walked to the otherside of the room and sat down.
Looking to my right, the shadow six seats down formed into the most beautiful boy. He looked like a young Benjamin Bratt. Aquiline features, long wavy black hair, his torso long, hairless and lithe, the body of youth. He looked over to me and smiled, mouthing silently, "Come here." And motioned me to sit next to him. I did and as he put his arm around me I noticed two things. He wasn't wearing any pants and a young, smaller Mexican - Aztec Indian-style - was kneeled down between his legs sucking his dick like his life depended on it. That little fuckers head was bobbing up and down at supersonic speeds. Pop! I got a hard on.
"So," I whispered. "Where did you..." And before I finished, my mystery guy pulled me close and slid his thick, hot tongue between my lips. We sat there groping and kissing until he moaned out and the little Mexican mouth was bloated with cum. I pushed a black curly strand from his moist forehead and said, "So, what's your name?" He said Carlos and he doesn't know the name of the guy that was blowing him. Isn't gay life funny?
The little Mexican said thanx or something equivalent and took off. Carlos was kind enough to pleasure me and after I was done I asked if he would like some lunch. "Sure." He smiled and wow what a smile. So beautiful. He told me he had a car and recommended this cafe on Alameda Ave. What a small world. The cafe was nice, I ordered a beef burrito with a Sol cerveza and we talked. Carlos is twenty years old and has been living in El Paso for six months. He moved here from Senora, Mexico and lives with his Aunt and brother. I told him my story and he thought it was quite funny. Carlos laughed and commented that I was a very bad boy. I agreed.
After about an hour of real stimulating conversation about independent cinema and the decline of the Discovery Channel, which I think should change their name to The American Chopper Channel, Carlos and I said our goodbyes. However, Carlos said he frequents the porn theater regularly and if I'm ever in the mood for a little diversion to look him up.
I returned home inspired and for the first time in months I started to really write. I started a new screenplay. A dark mystery about a femme fatale who gets wrapped up in an extortion ring of body parts embezzled out of the city morgue - life imitating art.
My friend Hector came over and I fixed us dinner, pork chops, spinach, with salad. After some television and a shower, we went to bed - sex with Hector is so satisfying, man he screws like a pimp! Staying up to watch the Rob Zombie Show, tonight was Russ Myer's Faster Pussycat - Kill! Kill! As I held Hector in my arms and lay there listening to his relaxed breathing, stroking his smooth copper skin, I thought of Carlos, that seductive imp and fell asleep dreaming of my impending old age. I realize, one day, I will be the quivering old pedophile lurking in a dark theater leaping on unsuspecting youth.
Orale.
No comments:
Post a Comment