Boogie Nights in Tijuana.

After I got off work today, I had a date with my good buddy, Alfredo. He wanted to go see Resident Evil, so I was to meet him later that night at my pad. After crossing the border, I was pretty tired and I weaved through the taxi drivers all on the hustle, through the hawkers and the beggars, grimy arms outreached forever.

I crossed the bridge over Rio Tijuana and as I whiffed its heady vapors I gazed out over the city as dusk fell upon it and I felt so optimistic. Under the starry sky, twinkling through the smog and as rats zipped to and fro in the darkening shadows, I concluded I am truly blessed to be here. I don't ever think I will live stateside again. As I walked through the congested pedestrian traffic, a young guy drunk off his ass had his freakin' dork hanging out pissing into oncoming traffic. And the weirdest part was...no one paid attention. I arrived home and showered, dressed, made me a martini, and played some Flaming Lips on the hi-fi as I waited for Alfredo to show up. As usual, which is unusual for Mexicans, Alfredo was on time. And as usual, he looked damn hot in his weathered blue jeans, black t-shirt, and denim jacket. We hugged and said hello and after we downed a shot of whiskey each we took a Taxi Libre to Plaza Rio Mall to see Resident Evil. The upper-scale area was crowded with shoppers and revelers.

We arrived early so Alfredo and I decided to jet into a side bar and have a shot of Tequila and a beer. The music was loud and save for myself and Alfredo, the place was dead empty. We sat and I joked with my friend but I knew something was bothering him and when I asked, he stated that he was thinking of leaving his wife and two-year-old kid. I stated that if there really isn't any love there, what was the point? It was a somber and poignant moment. I think I am starting to have strong feelings for that boy.

Well after the movie, which was okay, Alfredo complained that Resident Evil was too much like the game in which I retorted that's where the idea came from, kiddo. We decided to go to a little bar off of Constitution and 5th that Alfredo knew about. Not exactly queer, but pretty well mixed. It was sprinkled with working-class Mexicans all enjoying after-work drinks, talking of their jobs, their wives, and their problems. After a few Pacificos, Alfredo fell into a deep depression and started sobbing about his wife. I consoled him and told him that he needs to make an adult decision about his problems. He told me through eyes shrink-wrapped in tears that he wants to go back to his wife and with that he left the bar, stumbling and remorseful.

I sat there staring into my drink when two guys walked into the cantina and sat next to me at the bar. I said Howdy; they said Hi; and introduced themselves. Juan was tall and thin with a shaven head, goatee, green mesh football jersey, and green fatigue pants. The other guy was a little younger, about 21, with black slick back hair, and wore a Metallica t-shirt with dark cargo pants. He said his name was Sylvio. Sylvio? What kind of name is that, I asked. And he went into this long tirade about Aztec culture and that Sylvio was a name based in the Aztec tradition. Whatever.

We joked and talked and the beer started to flow and we got drunker and drunker. Juan said he wanted to go to a bar and see strippers, so we left the little bar and hoofed it down to the Red Zone and popped into one of the hundreds of hoochie houses. As we sat there and watched this short fat Indian jiggle in all the wrong places, I told my two new escorts that I was going to go. The last thing that I wanted to see was a bunch of old men ogling a floppy-boobed dancer in a smoky cockroach-infested strip joint. Drunk, Sylvio laid a hand on my shoulder and asked me, "Which one do you want?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, quite perplexed.

He pointed to himself and then to Juan, "Which one of us do you want to take home, guedo?"

I sat there for a moment. Inside I was giggling like a little girl. These two guys were competing over me! What a compliment. I looked at Sylvio with a serious look and said, "Why not both of you?"

They both agreed and we stumbled back to my trap. Once inside, we three downed shots of Jack Daniels and soon my head started to spin. Next thing I know, the clothes come off, I'm escorted to my bed by Sylvio and laid on my stomach. Juan sat in front of me and I sucked that uncut dick like a champ as Sylvio tongued my ass. Next thing I know, Sylvio slides up in me and I am taking Mexican both fore and aft! After Sylvio finished, Juan whirled me around onto my back and with my feet on his shoulders, he took no prisoners; the boy went at it like a madman!. Sylvio kissed me passionately as Juan pounded away which caused me to lose my cool and I came on myself. With a groan, Juan pulled out and hosed me down.

As I lay there panting, covered in sweat, semen, and saliva, Juan lit a cigarette and after taking a drag, placed it between my dry lips. I stared at the ceiling fan and wondered if Alfredo really was going to go back to his wife...