No Response.

The neighborhood was dark. The row of houses lay silent with their dark windows and long shadows. Miguel sat slumped over in the passenger seat of his parked car, door open, one leg extended out onto the curb. We had been drinking heavily most of that afternoon. His wife and baby girl were already asleep in their beds. I approached the car and whispered his name. Twice.

He was stocky with a muscular physic common to his breed. He wore a multicolor futbol uniform. The word Calexico emblazoned in fiery fonts across his wide chest. Jet black hair tumbled across a round Asian-like face. A face of smooth copper skin with thick, black eye brows like some one had slashed them across his forehead with a marker.

I stooped down in front of Miguel and whispered his name. The neighborhood was quiet and the moon soared across a dark, navy sky. I whispered his name. No response.

My eyes took on a predatory sheen as I glanced along his hairless legs spread before me. My hand casually stroked that muscular, inner thigh, inching upwards, past the line of his shorts. My eyes darted up to his serene face. He was still out. My meandering hand continued up, finally coming across his shiny, black pubic hairs. They were cropped short. I found his penis. It was flaccid. Fat and uncircumcised. I whispered his name again. He was out. I began to slowly stroke his dick. It began to engorge itself with blood, I could feel his heartbeat when it throbbed to full erection. I looked up at his face. He didn't flinch. I swung my gaze back towards the silent dark house to see if the prying eyes of the wife was snooping in on this random encounter. Nope. I moved his leg back into the car and gently closed the door. Walking around to the drivers side, I slid in and sat down. Again, I whispered his name. "Miguel." No response. I reached over. His penis was fully erect. Long now, and so thick I could barely grasp completely around the girth. I pulled it out and rubbed the foreskin about the head. His penis jumped and throbbed. I looked over to the house. Nothing. In the most lurid way, I bent over and began sucking his cock. Slowly at first and then picking up a rhythm.

A few moments passed and Miguel stirred. He sighed and then I heard, "What the fuck you doing, dude?"

I mumbled with penis still firmly in my mouth, "I'm sucking your cock." No need to be coy, I reckoned.

He placed his thick fingered hand onto the back of my head as he guided my movements. Eventually, Miguel let out a long sigh as I tasted hot semen splashing across my tongue. Wordlessly, I placed the wet shaft back into his shorts. Miguel stirred. Uttered "Fuck." And then stated that I needed to leave. He was returning inside, back to his family. I silently exited the car and stumbled down the shadowy street back to the hotel. In the distance dogs howled and the night air smelled like cow manure.