I think life is funny, and this was before I grew up and started experimenting all of the time. Some of us had little girlfriends we thought were the one, I did, I was 21 when we broke up, it felt like the end of the world pfft ha ha
I needed the money, I signed up on grindr to meet other guys in their 20s, I never went to college, it was kinda sketchy being half a fruit, my words...I realized it and I learned to laugh at myself, I think Bukowski would be proud
I was at the store one day when I got tapped on the shoulder. I turned, and my tongue seemed to sink in my stomach; it was my ex girlfriend Denise. "Hey stranger, I knew I recognized you!" Her wide smile, breathy voice, and the cute way she waved by moving her fingers were the same as they were those long months ago.
First guy I blew after we broke up was a fucking pig, not a cop, but he had a greasy, porcine face with a pencil-thin mustache attached. His name was Oscar, he was 57 and really wanted a blowjob. He was also "generous", or so he claimed. That meant he was a willing trick. I was around 22 myself, which also meant I was broke.
We met on a dating site and he messaged me first. I'm moderately attractive among women, but men? I was the good looking one and I needed grocery money. He offered me $60; I hopped in my car.
I knocked on his door and as quick as a flash it opened. Oscar was leaning on the door frame, "Someone's eager!" he said with undeserved confidence and a wide, coffee stained smile. I’d charge extra if he tried to kiss me. I meekly nodded, "Yes". He waved me in and I shut the door behind me.
Oscar was well padded with a big ass, and not in a good way, it remained static. He was more sloppy than just fat, which didn't do the velvet bathrobe he had on any favors. Tufts of chest hair were peppered and coming at all angles. His poorly suspended love handles reminded me of a leaky tarp, and God was he ugly. He reeked of poorly spread aftershave and bar soap, I knew right then and there this was gonna be a long day.
There was no talking, he sat spread eagle on a loveseat and proceeded to disrobe, it was a disgusting sight: a whole carpet neatly tapered down into a strip going towards saggy balls. His dick, which I swore looked bigger on the phone, was behind his stomach, which suddenly hung below his knees. I got on mine.
One thing a rentboy I used to be acquainted with told me was to always bring body wipes (and mints) to every job. Unfortunately, I was given that advice too late and to this day I can’t eat anything with tartar sauce. I still earned my grocery money. Anyways, Denise, what would I tell her?
I croaked out a response, "You haven't changed a bit yourself, whatchu been up to?"
I needed the money, I signed up on grindr to meet other guys in their 20s, I never went to college, it was kinda sketchy being half a fruit, my words...I realized it and I learned to laugh at myself, I think Bukowski would be proud
I was at the store one day when I got tapped on the shoulder. I turned, and my tongue seemed to sink in my stomach; it was my ex girlfriend Denise. "Hey stranger, I knew I recognized you!" Her wide smile, breathy voice, and the cute way she waved by moving her fingers were the same as they were those long months ago.
First guy I blew after we broke up was a fucking pig, not a cop, but he had a greasy, porcine face with a pencil-thin mustache attached. His name was Oscar, he was 57 and really wanted a blowjob. He was also "generous", or so he claimed. That meant he was a willing trick. I was around 22 myself, which also meant I was broke.
We met on a dating site and he messaged me first. I'm moderately attractive among women, but men? I was the good looking one and I needed grocery money. He offered me $60; I hopped in my car.
I knocked on his door and as quick as a flash it opened. Oscar was leaning on the door frame, "Someone's eager!" he said with undeserved confidence and a wide, coffee stained smile. I’d charge extra if he tried to kiss me. I meekly nodded, "Yes". He waved me in and I shut the door behind me.
Oscar was well padded with a big ass, and not in a good way, it remained static. He was more sloppy than just fat, which didn't do the velvet bathrobe he had on any favors. Tufts of chest hair were peppered and coming at all angles. His poorly suspended love handles reminded me of a leaky tarp, and God was he ugly. He reeked of poorly spread aftershave and bar soap, I knew right then and there this was gonna be a long day.
There was no talking, he sat spread eagle on a loveseat and proceeded to disrobe, it was a disgusting sight: a whole carpet neatly tapered down into a strip going towards saggy balls. His dick, which I swore looked bigger on the phone, was behind his stomach, which suddenly hung below his knees. I got on mine.
One thing a rentboy I used to be acquainted with told me was to always bring body wipes (and mints) to every job. Unfortunately, I was given that advice too late and to this day I can’t eat anything with tartar sauce. I still earned my grocery money. Anyways, Denise, what would I tell her?
I croaked out a response, "You haven't changed a bit yourself, whatchu been up to?"
