The wind was blowing in one of those typical sand storms that make El Paso so memorable. The news was clocking the gusts at 60 miles per hour. The trees danced and bent in an obscene mambo. Trash flew about me and the dirt stung my face. I took the walk downtown, anyway.
Downtown was normal for this time of night, besides the wind - the streets were vacant in long shadows from street lamps - no cars, no people. Deathly quiet except the whispering of the gusts. I held the brim of my black cap in a vain attempt from letting it soar off into the gritty night.
I walked and I thought.
I thought of where I was going after I received my degree in TEFL. I knew that I was consciously giving up a life of cocooned comfort, a life of no worries by being fully supported of by the State. once overseas, I realized I had three - maybe four - months before SSI caught on that I would be abroad and cut off the benefits that I was receiving. But, after four years of doing relatively nothing - I just felt like a ghost living - and not doing a hell of a lot existing. I came to the finality - I had to do this.
At the time of this writing, I have been flip-flopping at what locale I wish to choose - Peru I thought would be the best choice. The schools are lenient at hiring new teachers and I am well versed in Latin American customs. However, the pay is low. I had been scouring hundreds of other blogs by expat teachers and now it seems the logical choice is Korea. They pay the best concerning new teachers and pretty much flip the bill on housing. For what I am going to attempt - Korea is the logical choice. I tried to rationale my choices - I know nothing of the language, the customs, the country. And it seems that the race is VERY homophobic.
However, I knew nothing of Mexico when I first moved to Tijuana back in 1993 - so, perhaps it would be a wonderful, positive adventure. Yet, the United States border will not be just a few feet away like in TJ if I needed to make a hasty retreat. If I go to Korea - it is a year. Good or bad. Hell or high water.
I am so confused.
I stood at the corner of the Plaza downtown blinking away the debris that flew into my face and that's when I saw him. The upper half of his thin body was in black shadows as a cherry of a cigarette glowed in the dark of his hidden face. He stood in the tan, stucco alcove of a building. He saw that I was staring at him. His thin, brown hand grabbed at the crotch of his baggy, khaki pants. The limp penis was long - and even though it was not erect, he held only half of that fucker.
I took another drag from my cigarette and stared. Watched as he slowly stroked the growing monster in his pants. I casually looked around. Nothing. No one - no traffic. The wind howled. The street signs wobbled and made noises lost in the whipping winds.
With thin, spindly fingers, he casually unzipped his pants and pulled out the long, floppy organ. I watched as he slowly slid the foreskin back and forth over a shiny head. The semi-erect penis dangled as his hand disappeared up towards the obscured face and returned with wet fingers, smearing saliva across the fat head of his cock. He continued to slowly stroke his penis in long, mechanical glides.
With a burst of both intrigue and excitement, I walked across the street towards him. He sank deeper into the alcove, deeper into darkness. As I approached the alcove, the tang of old piss blew downwind at me. The ratatatatat of a discarded Styrofoam cup swirled in eddies of dust and trash.
Huddling in the alcove, I saw he was a tall, thin man in his late thirties, Mexican, a drooping moustache over thick lips. He had a long nose set between dark, brown eyes. His hair was shaggy with flecks of grey. A ruggedly handsome face.
He mumbled something in Spanish that I did not get. I just reached out and grabbed the throbbing organ. It was enormous - as long as my lower arm and almost as thick. I slowly stroked the fleshy cock, it was still only semi-erect. Without a word, I squat down in front of him and took his penis in my mouth - adjusting to the girth and sucked it in deep strokes.
He groaned and uttered dirty words in Spanish - near orgasm, his penis stiffened entirely. It still curved downward. I worked faster and saliva flowed as I tongued the head and worked the shaft with my hand. He yanked his fully hard cock out of my mouth - holding my head away with his left hand - and dribbled globs of semen onto the dusty, street lamp splashed concrete. The thick semen hit the ground with audible splats.
I stood up, looking at him. He exhaled and smiled as he shoved his dick back into his pants. He smiled, said gracias or some equivalent and strode back out into the sand storm.
I lit a cigarette and began the walk back home. I thought of how I really need to escape this vile city and get back on the road. It is who I am. It was what I needed to keep on living.
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