Date: Sat, 4 Jun 2011 13:11:25 -0700 (PDT)
From: Roger Randel <rogerrandel5@yahoo.com>
Subject: Sucking Straight Mexican Boys  Part 2

Disclaimer: Do not read this if the idea of gay white men felating straight
Mexican teenagers does not appeal to you, or if it would be illegal because
of your age or local laws.  The boys were of legal age in Mexico at the
time of my vacation several years ago but I do not know what the law might
state now.



Bob and I were drinking coffee at a sidewalk cafe in Veracruz.  He thought that
it was hilarious that I had sucked that Mexican boy last night just after I had
told him that I had no interest in boys, and much less in one-way sex with
them.  I told him that my momentary loss of judgment was probably caused by
those beers that I had drunk in the bar.

"Sure," Bob laughed, "four beers and you were so drunk you fell to your knees
and ..."

"Shut up, Bob, you are starting to piss me off.  Look, that was just an anomaly,
it won't happen again.  What I need is a mature companion, someone who shares my
interests, can carry on an educated conversation, ..."

"And enjoy quiet evenings at home, candlelight dinners, etc.  OK, I think I
might have just the man for you.  He is about 40 years old, librarian, handsome
Mexican features, loves classical music, operas and stuff."

"What does he like sexually?"

"Wow, looks what's coming!"  Conversing with Bob was a bit problematic because
every minute or so he interrupted me or himself with a comment about some cute
boy he saw going by on the street.

Two cute teens were coming down the sidewalk kicking a soccer ball.  Bob
whistled at them and they headed for our table.

"Hola, Carlitos, quien es tu amigo?"

Bob jabbered with the boys in Spanish -- I did not understand much of it.
Carlitos was a thin 15 year old with light brown skin, and his buddy was very
dark skinned, short and solidly built, but could not have been over 13.  Bob
seemed to be drooling over the younger boy who kept grinning, shaking his head
no and looking embarrassed.  They excused themselves and continued down the
street kicking the ball and laughing.

"That Carlitos, what a good suck he is!  I've done him lots of times and he
keeps coming back for more."

"What constitutes a good suck?" I asked Bob.

"Well, most importantly, a good suck responds well to the stimulation.  He loves
it.  He can cum so fast you have to pace him, toy with him, keep him on the edge
until he is whining, and finally suck him over the edge.  And he keeps coming
back for more.  That is a good suck."

"And the other boy?"

"Who knows, but I am going to find out.  He is shy and says that he never has
been sucked and is waiting for a girl to do it.  Carlitos says he will bring him
by the house tonight.  I can almost taste his dick already."

"Uh, about your friend, what does he like sexually?"

"I am not sure.  Probably with you he would be the bottom.  I know that he is
looking for a lover also, and I do not think you would be too old for him.  I'll
call him up."


Bob punched in some numbers on his cell phone.

"Hola, Francisco, oye ..."

Anyway, Francisco said he would love to meet me and that we should come by his
house in a couple of hours for a glass of wine.

Bob suggested that we kill some time by going to a soccer game -- they would be
happening all over Veracruz on Saturday.  We jumped in a taxi and headed down
the street in the direction of the two boys.  They got in the back seat with Bob
in the middle, and when I glanced back there I saw that Bob was fondling both of
them.  We got out at a big sports field that was literally covered with young
men and boys kicking soccer balls around, playing baseball and basketball.

"If you are interested in straight boys, this is a good place to look for them,"
said Bob.

A referee blew his whistle and cleared the soccer portion of the field.  The
teams were finally picked, 11 on each side.  The boys did not have uniforms and
most were barefoot.  Some wore T-shirts and some were bare-chested.  The referee
made the ones that had cleats on their shoes take them off, but the ones in
tennis shoes were OK.  Bob and I sat on the grass on the edge of the field.  The
two boys that came with us had to wait for their chance to play when another
game would start.  Meanwhile they ran off to play basketball.

"Look, said Bob.  There is Jesus!"

"Who is Jesus?"

Bob laughed.  "He is the one you sucked off last night, your anomaly."

So I had sucked Jesus.

"Which one is he?  It was dark in your garden and I barely got a glimpse of
him."

Bob did not answer.  His attention was on three boys standing close to us.  Bob
had a one-track mind.

The game started and the boys and ball were zipping all over the field.
Sometimes they came whizzing by so close to us that I could almost touch them,
and all the while I was trying to figure out which was the one I had sucked.  I
remembered that he had a little bit of hair on his legs so I was able to
eliminate several of them.  The boys were totally into the game, giving it all,
and I was amazed at their youthful athletic skill and endurance.  They seemed so
free, so full of joy and life.  I envied them.

Bob got up.  "I'll be back in a minute," he said.

"Wait!  Tell me which one I sucked?"

"Blue shorts and white shirt."  Bob walked off.

From then on my eyes were glued to the boy in the bright blue shorts and white
T-shirt, following him all over the field.  He was very fast, scrambling for the
ball, kicking hard, a very aggressive young soccer player.  I got several good
views of him when he ran by where I was sitting on the grass and although he was
wearing a T-shirt I knew that underneath he was perfect.  A beautiful face too.
Wow, I sucked that beautiful boy last night!

At half-time the boys came over to the sideline.  Bob was with the three boys
who now had sodas in their hands.  I got up the nerve to approach the blue short
boy and said "hola" to him.  He looked up at me, repeated the greeting and then
looked away.  In my shitty Spanish I managed to ask him if he had a good time
last night.  He said that he did.  I then attempted to tell him that I did not
ordinarily do that sort of thing, that I was drunk, and that I would appreciate
it if he did not tell anybody about it.

"About what?" he asked in Spanish.

"Ah, Jesus, you surely remember that I sucked your dick," I said in shitty
Spanish.  "Did I do a good job?"

The boy looked up at me in surprise.  "You sucked Jesus' dick?"  He started
laughing.  "Mi nombre es Mario!"

"O shit!" I thought.

I heard Bob laughing behind me.

Mario whistled at some boys across the field and three of them came running.
One was wearing dark blue shorts and a white T-shirt, and he had a little hair
on his legs.  They started jabbering and laughing in Spanish and I could barely
make out a few words, one of which was "mamar" (suck) and another "verga"
(dick).  Jesus looked embarrassed but he was laughing too.  One of the boys
looked at me and made a lewd gesture, outlining with his fingers the bulge in
his shorts and saying "quieres?"  I could have died right there.

Luckily, the referee blew his whistle and the boys ran back for the second half
of the game.  I sneaked off and waited for Bob to take me to meet his friend, a
mature, educated, and hopefully good looking Mexican man who might become my
lover.

Again we took a taxi, me sitting in front and Bob groping three young teens in
back.  We dropped the boys off on a corner and they promised that they would
visit Bob at his house that night.

"I thought that you already had a date with Carlitos and his friend tonight," I
said.

"Yeah, so what?"

Francisco lived in an old colonial house in a quiet neighborhood.  He answered
the door with a huge smile and ushered us into his big living room.  I felt like
we had gone back a few hundred years in time.  The furniture was antique Spanish
and original oil paintings adorned the walls including portraits of aristocratic
ancestors of Francisco.  Chopin was playing softly in the background.  Francisco
seated us on the sofa and clapped his hands.  A young man, about 17, entered and
Francisco told him to serve the wine.

Francisco was a handsome man, light brown skin with a trimmed mustache.  He was
the epitome of politeness and charm, and even spoke pretty good English with a
Spanish accent.  The wine was served, and we sipped it while small-talking about
the paintings and stuff.  Then there was a knock on the door.  It was a black
man and a young boy.  The man said something to Bob in Spanish and left, leaving
the boy.

"Bob, I got this surprise just for you, my maintenance man's son.  His name is
Jaime."

The boy was short and skinny, and such a dark brown he could have been an
African.  I wondered if he was even 12 years old; the top of his natty head was
well below Bob's shoulders.

"He is very cute, said Bob, but is he ready?"

"His dad swears that he is.  Why don't you take him in the kitchen and find
out?"

Bob looked delighted with his little treat, and he led the boy into the kitchen.

"Now that we got rid of Bob" said Francisco, "you and I can get to know each
other a little more."

My mind was already in the gutter so I do not remember much of our
conversation.  I was too absorbed in the thought that I would soon be in bed
with this exotic looking man, rubbing our naked bodies together, doing the 69,
and finally with his legs on my shoulders I would ...

"I guess that Bob told you that he and I are quite different.  While he is
obsessed with boys who are barely at the threshold of manhood, I am attracted to
older men, about your age."

"And your servant boy?" I asked?

"Oh, no, no no, that is Juan.  He is just an employee.  Takes care of the garden
and stuff.  I am not interested in anyone under 30."

"Same with me," I said.  Even 30 is too young for me.  Someone about your age
would be just right."

I imagined myself penetrating him slowly while he gasped in pain and pleasure.

Then there was another knock on the door.  It was a muscular man in a sleeveless
T-shirt, about mid-twenties.

Francisco obviously was angry with this young man and I did not understand much
of their argument.  Something about a late rent payment and a woman who the man
had moved into the apartment with him without permission.


Francisco turned back to me, putting the beautiful smile onto his face again.
"Here, come with me my friend.  I must settle some business with my tenant and
then we can continue our delightful conversation."

Francisco led me to a room in the rear of the house and knocked on a door.  The
17 year old boy answered and Francisco asked him if he finished his work which
he said that he did.  There was a soccer game on the TV and Francisco asked me
to please enjoy the game with him while he dealt with the errant tenant.

The door had barely shut when the boy clicked a remote control and suddenly the
soccer game switched back to a porno movie that the kid had been watching!  The
boy grinned at me and sat down in front of the TV.  I sat on the bed since there
were no more chairs.

"Ustedgozarestatipode cine?" I asked him.  He did not answer, just grinned and
rubbed the stiffee in his pants.  Yes, it seemed that he did like that kind of
movie.

Loud, angry words were coming from the living room.

On the TV a young man, probably Russian, had his face between an attractive
young woman's thighs, licking her pussy.  She was going "uhh, ahhh, ooogh" in
Russian.  The real boy beside me was rubbing his dick, occasionally looking at
me and smiling.  I smiled back and pretended to really like the movie.
Actually, the boy in the movie was pretty nice looking.

The noise of the argument died down, and because I felt uncomfortable being in
the same room with this horny teenager I decided to go back to the living room
and continue the chat with Francisco.  The house was silent now and it looked
like nobody was in the living room, but when I came up behind the couch I was
shocked to see the tenant in his sleeveless T-shirt but without his shoes, pants
and underwear.  One of his feet was on the couch and the other on the floor, and
between the tenant's hairy wide-spread legs, kneeling on the floor, was
Francisco.

"Oh, sorry," I said.

Franciso's eyes glanced at me but did not say anything because his mouth was
stuffed with a big Mexican sausage.  The tenant looked up briefly and then back
to watching his dick go in and out of Francisco's mouth.  I guess that he was
paying the rent.

I got out of there as soon as possible and headed to the kitchen, but stopped in
my tracks when I saw the little black boy standing stark naked with his back
toward me and with a white hand on each of his butt cheeks, moving him toward
and away from the man who knelt in front of him.  Luckily, neither noticed me so
I stayed there for a moment admiring the boy's physique, wide shoulders and
narrow waist.  And what a butt!  Remarkable for such a young kid.  I sneaked
back through the living room to the 17 year old's room in the back.

The boy opened the door a crack, and then seeing it was me he let me in.  He was
now completely naked!  He sat down in the chair again and pointed to the
screen.  The girl now was on her knees, licking the stiff dick of the cute
Russian lad who was sitting on the bed.  The real boy, the cute Mexican 17 year
old, started beating his meat furiously while staring at the screen,
occasionally flashing me a big smile.  He was totally unashamed about doing that
in front of me.  I was always embarrassed to be seen, or caught, jacking off.

Well, needless to say, I was totally entertained and mesmerized by this display,
and because of the way the seating was arranged my eyes could shift back and
forth between the screen and the naked Mexican boy beside me without his knowing
what I was staring at -- not that he would have minded.

Then he did a surprising thing:  He stood up and turned his chair toward me and
sat down again with his legs wide open.  He backed the CD up to the start of the
blowjob scene and clicked play.  Again the girl was kneeling between the Russian
boy's legs and licking the stiff shaft of his penis from the balls to the tip,
over and over again.  Juan just grinned at me and turned his head toward the
screen, his hands hanging at his sides, expecting me to do for him what the girl
was doing for the Russian boy.

I could not blame Juan for making that assumption.  He was an exceptionally
good-looking young man, and no doubt had plenty of gay men, and probably women
too, just dying for a chance with him.  He probably thought that he was being
extremely generous in offering his penis to me, and never imagined that I would
take it as an insult.  I guess that back then, at the beginning of my Mexican
awakening, I still had a lot of macho pride.  Yes, I knew that I was gay, but
with my former lovers I was always the top man.  Yes, I sometimes took their
dicks in my mouth and sucked them a bit, but never to completion.  They got
their rocks off by masturbating while my dick was planted in their butts.

I sat there confused and horny as hell after what I had seen in the kitchen and
living room.  And now with this boy tempting me?  Why did God hang the penis of
a man so low on his body, so low that to get to it you have to kneel as if you
were worshiping the damn thing?  It is humiliating for a man to get down on his
knees before another man, and much more so to take his penis in the mouth, and
to give him exquisite pleasure until he dumps his semen into your mouth or all
over your face.

And, I am ashamed to admit it, but there is the fact that he was Mexican, a
dark-skinned Mexican, and I a white man.  Racial prejudice.  A white man sucking
the black, uncut dick of a Mexican?  Major taboo.  My ancestors would not just
turn over in their graves, they would spin in their graves!  And then the final
insult:  He was just a boy and I a grown man.  Wouldn't it be more proper that
the boy suck the man?

The boy looked up at me again with a question in his eyes:  Why did I not go for
it?  Again he backed the CD up to the beginning of the blowjob scene and with
the back of his hand bent his stiff dick down so that it was pointed straight at
my mouth, smiling and nodding at me as if to say "Go for it!"  His foreskin had
drawn back, exposing a shiny, wet, maroon glans.  Fluid was oozing out of his
urethra.

I thought about Francisco and Bob on their knees in front of those boys.
Kneeling seemed to be the normal posture for a gay man around there.  "Fuck my
macho pride," I thought, and I got down between the legs of the Mexican boy and
started licking his brown shaft from the balls to the tip like the girl was
doing to the Russian boy.  The smell and taste of his dick was intoxicating and
I realized that it was not the beers that caused my dizziness of the night
before.  I had received many blowjobs in my life before this Mexican adventure
and so I knew what would feel good for this boy and I applied those techniques.
I could tell he liked it because of the way he sighed, shifted in the chair and
stiffened his thighs and abdominal muscles.


I got the strange feeling that I could feel what he was feeling, almost as if I
were the one getting the blowjob.  Now I understood what Bob meant when he said
"the pleasure is mutual" when referring to one-way sex with a straight boy.

In my former life, with the many gay men that I had sex with, I was never
concentrated much on their pleasure.  Of course, I wanted them to have a good
time and achieve orgasm, but foremost in my mind was getting my own rocks off,
and I hoped that my partner would get his also in the course of events, and
usually he did.  But in this new kind of sex, sucking the dick of a straight
Mexican, I knew that I was not going to have an orgasm.  My own dick, whether
stiff or soft in my pants, was not of any importance.  Giving him pleasure was
the only thing on my mind, and raising him to orgasm was the big objective.  And
when he made his final groan, held my head, lifted his butt off the chair and
pumped his juice deep into my mouth, I felt like I too was having an orgasm.

The boy's spasms had just barely subsided when there was a knock on the door.
The boy scrambled for his underwear, but the door opened and there was Francisco
with a shocked look on his face in seeing his employee naked with my shiny spit
on his stiff penis.  His expression quickly changed to rage and he let out a
volley of Spanish expletives directly at me and the boy, but mainly at me, and
to make sure I understood how pissed off he was he shifted to English and gave
me a good cussing out with an impressive vocabulary of obscenities.  He turned
around in a huff and I followed him meekly into the living room.

The tenant had his pants back on by then and was tying his shoe laces.  Bob and
the little black kid, now in his shorts again but carrying his shirt, came in to
see what the fuss was.  Juan came in too, now dressed.


"He sucked off my house boy!" shouted Francisco, and then to me, "Don't EVER go
into somebody´s house and suck off his house boy!"

"I am so sorry, I ..."

"You are not sorry.  You are a typical arrogant American who thinks that he can
just do as he pleases with total disrespect for any culture other than your
own."

Bob went on with another barrage of obscenities and insults in both English and
Spanish.  Bob looked very serious and concerned, but  the three young Mexicans
were exchanging bemused smirks with each other, obviously enjoying Francisco's
outburst.

Finally I got to slip a few words in edgewise.  "But you said that you were not
interested in men under 30, so I thought it was OK."

"Well, yeah, but Juan is an exception.  Besides that, you also said 30 was too
young for you."

"True, but Juan is an exception," I said.

With that, Francisco let out another barrage of cuss words, and turning to Bob
said, "Get this cabron out of my house and while you are showing him around
Veracruz see if you can teach him how to act in civilized society."

Bob, the black kid, the tenant and I made our escape as Francisco turned his ire
onto his houseboy Juan, but as the door slammed shut behind us we heard
Francisco scream once more, "Never, EVER suck off somebody's house boy!"

All of us were laughing by then, and although I did feel some embarrassment and
shame, mostly what I felt was relief.  I am not a religious man but I could not
help thinking, "Thank you Jesus for saving me from a relationship with that
man."



I could write another episode if anybody is interested.  Otherwise, that's
all folks.

Roger Randel     rogerrandel5@yahoo.com