softer than satin was the light

It was a shitty night in a shitty section of Tijuana. On the slummy north end of Zona Norte where the tacky lit whorehouses give way to crumbling rotting homes, their sides shored up with baulks of timber, their windows patched with cardboard and their roofs with corrugated iron - a block of sordid wooden dwellings like chicken houses - the smell of musty clothes and clogged toilets. I love places like this.

There was nobody else on the street. The long colorless grey of the night was spotlighted at intervals by yellow street lamps. A black mongrel trotted by covered in mange and it's genitals a swollen red mass of lacerations and glistening pus. I quickly turned into a narrow side-street near one of the big bus stations. He was standing near a doorway in the wall, under a yellow streetlamp that gave hardly any light.

He possessed a young face of copper colored skin - high pointed cheekbones, long Indian nose, pencil thin moustache over thick lips. Wavy black hair was combed back, his clothes were well used and exaggerated a tall and slender body.

His large greenish eyes in thick black lashes scrutinized my shadowy ambling form like a predator hunting in deep, murky seas. As I passed, he asked for a cigarette and a Lucky Strike exchanged hands. He asked what I was looking for. I asked how much - he said twenty dollars.

I followed him through the melancholy doorway and across a grey, shadowy backyard into a basement kitchen, an odor compounded of dead bugs and dirty clothes and stale cooking grease. I faced him, kissing, rubbing stiffening cocks - he seizes me by the shoulders and whirls me around - we tear our pants down in convulsions of lust. He spits on his long skinny cock and works it up my ass in a corkscrew motion.

We grunt and wheeze with his arms under mine, wrapped around my chest constricting me. His gritted teeth and parted lips next to my ear, his breath hot as a rutting beast. I can feel his heart pound against my arched back. "Jeeeeeeeeesus!" Both ejaculate at once standing up. We move away from each other and pull up our pants.

I retrieve a twenty out of my wallet and he asks for five more. I slap the bills into his hand and step back out into the cold and somber night. I light a cigarette and head back to my room.

I still feel so empty and alone.