I hate to be the one saying something good about
Miles Taylor. But his comments about the Merchant Navy did take me back.
I make no secret about the fact that WW II was a terrible war, and very inconvenient to me, personally. Not only did it lead to a lot of political upset and lots of people being killed, but it also closed off most of the world to my early travel plans. I am pretty sure that a lot of Germans that I might otherwise have fucked were killed in that fucking war, and lost to my sexual experience, for time and eternity. I mean, REALLY! SHIT!
My parents were determined that their children would not be provincial bumpkins from the Texas Dust Bowl, so they took a lot of trouble to send their kids to Ivy League Schools, and see that they were well traveled to see the rest of the world. My older brothers would invite their friends from sophisticated eastern cities out to the Texas Plains for the summers, etc. Which caused me to know a lot of things at a very early age. (including talking some of those hot fuckers into fucking my little baby ass!) One of them introduced me into traveling by merchant ship, rather than on a passenger ship, because (in their opinion) you had the opportunity to meet a better cross-section of real people. And I'm telling you, both me and my horny dick was VERY interested in meeting a cross-section of people.
About the only international opportunities available to me was to go some place like Brazil, which I did do in 1943 on a merchant ship out of the Houston Ship Channel. The first thing I discovered even before I got my feet off the banks of Buffalo Bayou (which forms the Houston Ship Channel) was how fucking easy it was to get a Hot Horny Sailor to fuck your ass. (Way easier than the fucking cowboys I was used to!) I had talked my mother into taking me to Neiman Marcus in Dallas, (They would tailor-make clothes for you, in those days) so I could get clothes that made me look older than I was, because even in those days, if they knew, people were reluctant to have sex with a 13 year old boy. But I worked it out.
Then you get onto the merchant ships, and I'd booked the ship that stopped in the most ports on the way to Brazil. I wanted the TOTAL Merchant Marine experience! LOL There were some really hot fucking merchant marines, and the young ones were anxious to have attention from what they considered to be sophisticated passengers on he ship. I'm just telling you, the 10 day trip to Brazil would make up a book, because I was hot looking, dressed so you could see that my sophisticated little ass wanted to be fucked by a straight merchant mariner.
Particularly, I remember this hot little Cuban (Batista was still running Cuban then - so people could work and travel where ever they wanted) who was almost the spitting image of
Xavier Ryan I had a great suite on this Merchant Ship and paying passengers were treated like the Captain of the Ship. People on the ship kind of understood what this Cuban (and others) were up to, visiting my suite everyday. They dealt with it by totally acting like it didn't happen. This was not an open period of gay history, so the way they considered it was that this Cuban and myself were NOT doing something gay. We had just found a mutual understanding as a way to release our natural sexual tensions. Contact between horny men was accepted as long as everyone acted like it had never happened. I think they saw it as kind of like a better form of masturbation, and was not associated as a gay act, or they would have had to reject it entirely.
This is about 75 years later and I still remember that hot little Cuban and his big dick. That's where I began to discover that lots of Cubans have great dicks.
Jos Alvarez and his ways are not so unusual. Ever since that initial merchant ship experience, I have never gotten over my taste for Cuban dicks. This kid would fuck me EVERY day on that trip. In addition, I'd give him a blowjob EVERY day. I still go to South Beach where you can find hot little Cuban Hustlers, who's dicks taste exactly like that little Cuban's hot dick. He would cram that fucker all the way down my throat, and then make me eat his cum. He always wanted to lay me on my back and fuck me missionary style, and this kid could kiss. While he's fucking, he'd kiss your mouth like you felt he was inside you, and kiss your neck and your ears. This guy was a hot fucking kisser. Then when he'd cum, he'd pull out and run up to my face and bust his cum into my mouth, and tell me "Cometelo" which I interpreted to mean eat it, or swallow, or something like that. I ate a train load of that kids cum. Just saying.
In those days, you didn't have to practice safe sex, because whatever you got, you could cure with penicillin. But as many guys as I had sex with, I never did catch a disease. This was the days before I started hooking up with hustlers, etc
I am grateful to
Miles Taylor, for bringing back these memories for me. In my whole life, that trip to Brazil is still ONE of my fondest memories. That Summer in Brazil was ANOTHER! LOLOLOL.
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