babalu bebop

For most of the day, I tromped around in 110 degree heat gathering the necessary paperwork to be prepared with my appointment with the housing office this Wednesday. Completing that, It was time to go home. My boots crunching in heated gravel, I wearily approached the large, steel barn-like structure of the shelter. Squatting in the shade of the awning were three or four hobos sweltering on wooden benches and silently puffing on rollies.

It wasn’t three in the afternoon yet, the entry time for the place. I stood there waiting, my shirt clinging to me like a wet condom and craving nothing more than to enter and drink some water. At three, the goober who was working the afternoon shift swung the door open and after a mandatory breathalyzer test, I headed straight to the kitchen for some much needed drinks. Quenched, I resignedly returned to the pungent dimness of the dorm room which held up to a hundred men. I obviously got a new neighbor, for the withered old thing with a walker who slept next to me was replaced by a goofy fat bald guy.

I lay there quietly, but then….he wanted to talk.

He went into an extensive and confounded diatribe on how the government was hunting him down, frozen his bank assets, and caused his life in general a conspiracy laden hell hole. He divulged from a folded swath of Chinese rice paper a little glass pin with some type of electrode on the end.

"You see that?" He breathed breath which smelled like sour mop water. "You see? This is what they pulled out of my ear. For years they could see what I see...they saw through my eyes!"

Enough of that weirdness. I laid down amongst the smell of sour feet and unwashed bodies, doubting my own sanity. Am I all right? Am I losing my mind? What if I am crazy...sane people don't do what I do. I really began doubting my actions the last few weeks.

Then he walked in.

Shaven head, trimmed black goatee, hazel eyes, and baggy street clothes with a boxers build. He brandished a tattoo of a tear drop below his left eye. This short cholo was extremely kind on the eyes. And he was placed in a bunk right next to mine! Right away I introduced myself and he said that his name was Luis Valenzuela and recently released from prison. After he made up his bed, we made our way out to the little smoking patio to talk. I told him my story and he thought it was pretty funny. I said I wasn't worried about my situation that much in lieu I had some money left in the bank.

"For reals?" Luis said. "Let me have thirty dollars." His smile, though both sinister and scheming, a dimpled grin displaying a row of short, white teeth, caused my heart to skip and my mind to travel into places both mischievous and deviant. He continued his spiel regarding these sneakers he wanted.

"What do I get out of it?" I coyly retorted. Nothings for free...learned that from my days in Tijuana.

"What do you want?" He asked.

Without batting an eye, I said, "I want to suck your cock."

Naturally, he looked flabbergasted. I thought he was going to punch my lights out. Then a sly grin crept across his handsome lips. "Okay. But where?"

"Follow me into the restroom."

He followed me into an empty men’s room. We went into the back stall, closing the door behind us, I sat on the toilet and Luis pulled out his erect penis. I sucked that thick uncut cock like my life depended on it. A couple of hobos did enter to use the urinals, but in our position down on the far end of the long, white tiled room, they were unaware that malicious goings on were afoot! Luis was letting out breathy and whispered moans and I was nervous some old hobo might hear us and report us to the facilitators. Finally, when Luis was close, he pulled his glistening cock out of my mouth and sprayed down my hair and right side of my face with gobs of thick cum. As I wiped my face and hair with toilet tissue, he stated that he hadn't cum in three months.

Odale.

After paying my end of the bargain with Luis and his well-earned thirty dollars, I returned to my bunk. Luis decided to go into the T.V. room and watch the football game playing on the communal television. At nine, they shut off the lights, but I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned amid the high decibel snoring and farting. I am so excited about getting that apartment.

At five o'clock in the morning, the lights snapped on and everyone made a mad dash to the restroom sinks to wash up. I felt like shit...like I was hit by a ten ton truck. My throat ached, my back hurt, I was feverish. Luis looked so adorable wrapped up in his blankets. I wanted to reach over and glide my fingers down the happy trail that lead into his blue striped boxers. I invited him to breakfast at a downtown café, but he said he had to meet his cousin for something. He is so goddamn handsome. Who knows? Perhaps something will come of this.