Thursday, April 19, 2007

Ojo Flojo.

A warm morning and I walked over to Plaza Santa Cecilia and breakfast on good coffee and Mexican sweetbread. Joked with the waiters Miguel and Victor. Made small chit chat with two vatos that had been deported the previous night - they at least had some money for breakfast. Victor confessed that he too got the boot from the Land of the Free, Home of the Brave. "Your President does not like me." Victor smiled.
Decided to wile the afternoon away at Cinema Latino because - well how can I put this gingerly? I was horny. When I entered the dank cinema, some blond broad was blowing three studs on a couch onscreen. I took a seat in the back - one down from a very macho looking man sporting a goatee. Hey, you start grabbing your crotch in a porno theater and someones going to goose you. This guy was rubbing his nether region and I "went for it". He flinched - pushing my offending hand away and laughed, in English, "You want to play?"
Long uncomfortable pause. Then he unzipped his Dickies shorts, leaned back and mumbled, "Vamanos." And I did my thang. He had a man cock. Big and thick. I took no prisoners and sucked that fucker like a champ! He pulled my head away as great white globs gushed out - splattering the back of the seat adjacent and glazing his thick muscular hand. All I could say was Wow.
I left this handsome man to his mess and went downstairs to the men's room. The fags were lined up at the urinals watching each other masturbate - I dodged into a stall and took a piss. Exiting the stairs leading up to the cinema, I was stopped by a wild eyed cockjunkie and he meant business. The little hottie pinned me in an alcove and before I could say Que onda, guey? my pants and shorts were yanked down around my ankles and the little shit took no time doing the doing. But he turned me off by repeatedly pressing to go to a hotel. No way Jose - so I composed myself and returned up into the cinema.
Next up was a little Indian vato - cute is what I'm aiming for. Slurp slurp squirt. The entire back row was a goddamn blowfest - six or seven fags all doing that which is inconvenient. Satiated and a little annoyed - this goofy fat fuck wouldn't leave me alone - I left for the Plaza. Ran into an acquaintance who bought me a pack of smokes and a hamburger from Carl's Jr. He explaining that he is down from San Diego the afternoon for a Rentboy's skillful message and lunch at swanky Sanborn's Restaraunt. After I hitched a ride home from said person, I lay in my bed smoking; listened to Love Line on 91X fm and finally passed out.

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