Daryl wanted to touch Marissa’s boobs. “I am gonna have to let him soon,” she told Miguel. “I have been his girlfriend for 2 months now.”
Miguel told her, “I think that’s gross.”
But Marissa did not care much about what Miguel thought. She stuffed her training bra with socks and she made him lay down on the bed beside her anyway. And he obeyed his older sister because knew she could kick the shit outta him and no one was home to save him.
“Touch my boobs,” she demanded. And when he did, his sister started making low moaning sounds. Miguel did not know why she was doing that, but it made his penis hard, and although his penis had been hard lots of times before, this was infinitely more exciting.
After that, whenever the parents were not home, it would always be time to ‘practice’. It was not long before Marissa was making him touch and lick her real boobies. It felt good to press himself against her body, while she was writhed her own beneath him. It lasted for half a year, but then it was done, his sister never made him touch her again. And Miguel missed touching her terribly. But he never told her that.
Every now and then, Miguel’s father would let him come downstairs to hideout. They would watch wrestling, on the television, without any of the women yapping around them. Sometimes they would play a few games of pool, and sometimes, Miguel’s father would let him have a beer. Or two.
Miguel liked it when his father would go upstairs, to use the washroom, because Miguel could play with the ashtray that sat on the bar and not get caught. It was the image of a man; a Budweiser can for a body. The ashtray was worn as headdress that reminded Miguel of what Julius Caesar would have worn. When you lifted the ashtray off, presumably to clean it out, the can of beer would rise up and a large red penis would pop from out from underneath it. Miguel could lift off the ashtray over and over again and always want to laugh, but sometimes he would wonder why the penis was so red.
Miguel liked it better when his father would go upstairs, to answer the telephone, because he knew his father kept his dirty magazines underneath the sofa. Often he would see them spilling out from the sides. Miguel was twelve and a half years old the first time he took one his father’s magazines. He would hide them under his shirt, inside the waistband of his jogging pants, his jeans, and once his leather pants. He would look at the pictures; by candle-light, late at night, in his bedroom, and he would remember ‘practicing’ with his sister, his fingers touching the glossy images of boobs. He liked the centerfolds best. The larger the boobs, the more of his hand he could use. Carefully; he did not want to rip the pages of the magazine. He did not want to get caught.
And because Miguel could read as well, he soon learned how to pleasure himself too.
Daryl broke-up with Marissa and she had spent the next three months crying and eating and locking herself in her room. “Leave me alone…just leave me alone…” she had moaned through the door, and for the most part, everyone would. She stopped going to school and after a few weeks of phone calls from the secretary, the principal and her history teacher, even they became willing to accept her request. But finally, the parents had enough of Marissa and her ‘attitude’. They enrolled her in fat camp.
Miguel got to stay home, instead of going with them, on the long ride to drop her off. And after an hour of being alone, Miguel ventured downstairs to the magazines. And an hour after that he found his father’s pornographic videos. He set the alarm on his wristwatch. Then he hit rewind and play all day.
Her jerked off twenty-seven times, in just under 11 hours. He could not get off more than 9 times. He wondered what was the wrong with him. Miguel did not know yet that this was an amazing feat, nor did he realize the implications this would have later in his life. But he did know pain the next morning, he doubled over getting out of bed and looking down at his red penis, while he peed, he realized he and the beercan-ashtray man were idiots.
By the time Miguel was sixteen, he had his own modest assortment of pornographic material. His best friend, Fernando, had connections and money. Enough money that he hired Miguel to do drops for him. And Miguel was happily paid with porn and little bits of coke. Fernando’s nickname was Gopher. It should have been Hustler. Fernando was a good friend.
Most drops Miguel made were to women. It didn’t matter most of them were fat and older than him. They liked to share their weed and they were the girls with the biggest tits anyway. And Miguel liked doing things with tits. Grabbing them, shaking them, sucking them, rubbin’ his motherfucking face in them. And maybe it was just because those ladies were holed-up too long getting horny waiting for Daddy to come home and help feed these three damn children; but he didn’t care; he was getting to touch a lot of tit.
Sasha was the first one to let him tittie-fuck her. She was tall and black with a big, fat ass and belly rolls and a mountain of boobs. The first night he made a drop there, she had rubbed his head in her cleavage when she hugged him good-bye. Miguel had an erection for the walk four miles home. The next time he dropped her dope to her, they fucked and this worked well for the both of them for the next six months. One night, about three months in, she made the offer. It excited him. He would never have the nerve to ask for this, although he had been masturbating to the images for 3 years. He ejaculated all over her face and all into her hair, and she screamed; so angry and offended. “I am not a piece of shit, ya know?” she cried. And he had calmed her down because he knew she wasn’t, but he was really confused about why she did not like it. It was certainly not the reaction he got when he entered the porno business himself two years later though, through Fernando’s connections. They asked “Lucky Rodriguez’ to do it and he did and they all likedit. He could pop quick and often. Tittie-fucking became his money shot.
Rolling My Eyes 