Fanta Se Gay

I’m gay, but I didn’t always know that. This is how I found out.

My sister was walking me home from school one day, and as usual, we cut down the trail by the arroyo. Part of the river run, only this time of year, there wasn’t any water running in it, so it had to be. I don’t know, some time in the fall, because there was usually water still coming down from the mountains in the spring. I don’t remember if I could smell the Chamisa, stinking like wet dog.

So anyway, there was this guy, just sitting there on one of the benches. With his pants open, and his dick in his lap. “Ugh!” My sister grabbed my arm, and pulled me away.

“What’s he doing that for?”

“He’s probably looking for some kids to molest, or gay sex, I don’t know.”

He didn’t even have a boner, it was just hanging out of his fly over his thigh, but that was the first time I heard about gay sex. Yeah, I heard the word “Gay,” but I didn’t know what it ment, besides bad.

So, she answered my questions as best she could, while we ran off down a street to the closest shopping center. Where she could find a pay-phone, and call the cops to report him as a “Pervert exposing himself to kids on the Arroyo Chamisa trail.”

Probably, it was right after school, and a lot of kids walked home through there, but also there was a playground right there, the next street down, and if you kept going there was the community center with an indoor pool.

I’m just saying, now with the benefit of hindsight, after I’d thought about it for years, if he just wanted to look at kids, and maybe get a chance to molest one, he didn’t have to go far to hang out at a playground, or he could look at them in their wet swimsuits. Or even the changing rooms, if he liked boys.

So, I guess maybe he was just an exhibitionist, and liked flashing people, to see the look on their faces. Maybe Alicia was wrong, I don’t know. If she’d given me a chance to ask him, then he might have lied, but at least I would have found out if he wanted gay sex, or to molest boys.

She wouldn’t tell me much about gay sex, other then it was boy boy, or girl girl, instead of girl boy. We’re both young, too young really for some guy to expose himself to either way, but at least I knew that boy-boy sex was an option.

Also, Santa Fe is a pretty liberal place, even back then (It was definitely before every school girl had a smart phone in her pocket, and they still had pay-phones in shopping centers.) I also talked to my friends, the same boys that called everything “Gay,” even if it didn’t have sexuality. Like a car could be “Gay,” if they didn’t like the color.

That was before everything was “Fuckin’ this, fuckin’ that.” Again, even if it had nothing to do with fuckinG, “Lookit this fuckin’ car.” Like a fuckin’ comma. It was punctuation, because there weren’t any adults around. So, you could use bad words, even if you didn’t know how to use them in a sentence.

So anyway, the consensus was “I’m not gay,” but the older boys filled us in on cock sucking butt fucking fags. So, I guess I found out what that pervert wanted to do with his dick, if he got it hard. I went back there, a lot. There was these walls, made up of railroad ties, all the way around 3 sides, to keep the dirt from washing down when it rained.

About 6′ square of concrete, next to the “Trail.” Now, the trail is like asphalt, it was a road if they didn’t have posts set up to keep people from driving up, and down it, but also they could unlock the one in the middle, so the City of Santa Fe pickup trucks to drive up, and down, to take care of it.

I got a little stiffy, just sitting there, and imagining, well. I didn’t have to imagine people walking bye, but I didn’t want anybody to call the cops on me, for flashing them, so I kept it in my pants. Played with it a little in my pants, but mostly it was bikes going bye. Real fast on the way down, but they had to climb up too. So, they could’ve been slow enough to spot me, too.

I knew it was illegal, and all, but at the same time, we’re talking about Fanta Se. So, they had hippies, and stuff. Including free-love, nudism, and protesters. Even though, if you wanted to protest something, you might want to go somewhere there’s something to protest, like New York, or Alabama. Maybe Detroit, if pollution is your thing, or Texas?

I don’t know, protesting to Santa Fe is like going to bible camp, and trying to tell people about our lord, and savior Jesus Christ, but at some point I heard some lady talking about how nudism isn’t wrong, and clothes are what’s unnatural, but it’s those damned Christians, and their myths that make people ashamed of their bodies.

Oh yeah, and she didn’t shave her legs, or her arm pits, and she yelled “WE’RE MAMMALS!” at the top of her lungs, right there on the plaza, so the plaza cops had to come, and tell her to stop freaking out the tourists. Yeah, I’ve got nipples too, but I don’t want to show everyone them. Alicia said she was probably a lesbian anyway, so since she brought that up, I thought it was a good chance to change the subject to my favorite one.

“Oh, I’m bi. I guess.” She admitted, “Bi curious, but no. Definitely not my type, she needs a shower, and do something with that Beaver tail for fuck’s sake.” You know what dreadlocks are, right? Well, this hippy nudist chick, she was Anglo, but she still had some on the sides, and the back was all matted up together like a wool neck apron. Or a “Beaver tail,” but that just led to Beaver jokes, and Linda Beaver.

At Beaver Toyota, she was a bit of a local celebrity, and I don’t know whether or not Villa Linda Mall was named after her, but that’s what everyone else said. “Huh, yeah.” She smiled, self consciously. “You don’t have to be gay to see she’s hot.”

“Uh, well, I think I am. Gay, I mean, so. She doesn’t really do much for me.”

“Oh!” She just laughed, and hugged me, “Okay!” That was it, I just came out to my sister, and it was okay, because she was cool, and she didn’t think that made me a bad person. Okay, also she was going through that stage where tweens, and teenage girls started talking about being bisexual, because.

I don’t know why, honestly. I thought maybe it was a fad, but no. When I got to middle school, they were still telling everyone one they’re “Totally bi.” Which is fine, if it’s true, because you’d probably know before you’re 11, 12, or 13, but still. They can’t all be bi, and there’s a double standard there, because it’s cool, if you’re a girl.

Maybe it’s to get boy’s attention, because straight boys, they sure seem to think that means a threesome, or at least they get to watch some girl-girl action, but not me. Maybe I even understand that guy’s problem, if he was looking for gay sex, and not children to molest, or flashing us to see what we’ll do.

Whatever, anyway I just have to say that later, even in a town were gay couples could walk down the street, and kiss right out on the plaza, a boy telling everyone you’re bisexual every chance you get is a good way to get beat up for being a “Fag.”

All right, well, I’m not a “Fag,” and I never was. If a gay guy wants to call himself that, then more power to him. I guess it’s no worse than rappers singing “Nigga’ this, and Nigga’ that,” but I wouldn’t know, because if you ever saw a black person in Santa Fe, then they were probably tourists, and even most of the black tourists seemed to find someplace else to go.

I sure don’t know any latinos that identify as Spics, or whatever. So, anyway, I started dishing with Alicia. Like, you know, she’d ask me if I thought he was cute, and I’d ask her who she thought was gay? I guess that got me thinking about what kinds of boys I liked, but it’s weird.

The straight acting thing, it’s not like I “Act straight.” I’m a guy, yaknow? I’m not going to give up on fixing cars, and spitting to mince around limp wristed, lisping, and doing that voice. I don’t like that, at all. It’s not even like a girl at all, it sure as shit isn’t a turn on for me, but at the same time, I kinda understand it?

It’s like a Fag Flag, “Look everyone I’m gay, see how gay I am?” Did I mention I’m bisexual? I guess if you’re proud of it, flaunt it, but Alicia turned out to be straight, and just going through a phase. If she ever tried before she Bied, I didn’t ask, and she didn’t tell, but she got boyfriends, in high school (One at a time, but she sure seemed to go through them quick) and I made it through 7th grade a virgin.

I guess, it’s no big deal, for a 12 year old to be a virgin, gay, straight, bi, boy, girl, or transgender. Oh yeah, and there was a transboy in school, but he was cool, and said “I’m gonna wait until I got my body sorted out before I even want to start worrying about that stuff,” by which he ment sex.

I guess he was my best friend? I didn’t really like my old friends, because they’re casually homophobic, but gays were just like a joke for them. Lesbians and bi chicks were hot, but when they said gays, they really ment fags.

Wade didn’t have any friends, because his old friends were girls, and I guess they felt lied to, because he didn’t tell them he was a boy that whole time. They’re changing around each other, in their underwear, and going to the girl’s room, but only because they made him. Which is kinda fucked up.

I was glad he wasn’t interested in me, romantically, because he was cool and all, but you know, he used to be a girl? Not to sound sexist, or anything, but he hadn’t had a sex change yet, just a hair cut, and kept dressing the way she always did, when everyone thought she was a girl, or a “Tomboy.”

That was it, though. The “GT” because they didn’t need a club for the straight girls that told everyone they’re bi, because it was cool. The rest of the LGBT was just me, and him, but at least I had somebody to talk to, at school, other then my sister.

So then, we’re hanging out on the plaza, and Wade ran up to show me this guy. Playing hacky sack out at the circle, and he had this button on his jeans. A rainbow striped button, with 2 circles, and the spear of Mars together.

So, we played hacky sack for a while, until Mara had to go, and she took the hacky sack with her, but I got a good chance to check him out. I guess you could say he looked “Emo” now. Back then, we knew about Goth, and “Not Goth,” but the most Gothic phrase ever uttered is “Uh! We’re not Goth.”

~Robert Smith.

You know, he had bangs, that hung down, so he had to flick them out of his eyes with a practiced move with his head, tight tee shirt, skinny jeans with the knees ripped out, and a button on the pocket.

“That mean you’re gay?” Wade just pointed, and Vince. Yeah, “Vince.” He grinned, “So?”

I looked over at Wade, and mouthed NO, silently. Shaking my head slowly, but not no. I didn’t think he was cute. NO, don’t out me right out here on the Plaza, and embarrass me in front of this hot boy, but yes. I wanted to conk him on the head, drag him off to the bushes, cut off those skinny jeans, and. I don’t know, think of something?

“That’s cool,” Wade took the hint, and shrugged it off.

“So, you. Are, um.”

“Idaknow.” Wade shrugged, “I don’t really care about sex yet.”

“That’s cool, I mean. I wasn’t hitting on you, or anything, but you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“I’m a boy.” He nodded, “But, I haven’t started hormones, or anything, to grow in to the man I want to be.”

“So, that’s trans…”

“Gender, yeah.”

“They got unisex bathrooms, or where do you go? I’m sorry, ahead of time if I say anything offensive, but.”

“Where’d you get that button?” I interrupted.

“Andersonville? That’s in Chicago, but it’s like Soho east. You know what I mean?”

I shook my head, just happy that he was talking to me. A real live gay boy, and even better than anyone I ever imagined.

“Well, that’s the big LGBTA community in Chicago. I mean, I don’t live there, but you can still go there. They’ve got book stores, and stuff you don’t have to be over 18 to go in.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirteen.” He did that hair flip, and I got a flash of green eyes, before it flopped back down. “You?”

“Yeah, me too.” I lied.

“Well, I’m gonna take off,” Wade left us alone together, but he said “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Which ment anything, like piss standing up. I’m sorry, that was mean, but then Vince stood up, and I didn’t realize at the time, but he kinda manspread?

There’s a little wall, and a fence around the obelesque, but he leaned back, with his legs open, and inviting, in those skinny jeans. With the fly zipped up, and a white plastic belt buckled, but you get the idea. The exact same pose as that pervert on the bench by the arroyo, with his dick hanging out.

“So, you want to show me around?” He wiped his hands off on his jeans.

“Yeah,” I wanted to rub his legs, even through those skinny jeans. “I know just the place. There’s bamboo over by the river. They got bamboo in Chicago?”

“Not growing wild, but there’s this building with this real tall lobby, and bamboo growing in it, but that’s in planters. I’ve never seen it growing in the wild before.”

Well, the Santa Fe river is like a ditch downtown, so “In the wild” isn’t exactly what we’re talking about. Pretty sure somebody planted it in their yard, and it just kept growing under the fence, to get down to the water. When there’s water, in the river, but we talked about that.

I got to show off “Le villa Real de Santa Fé de San Francisco de Asís”

“Like Than Frantithco.” The only time I heard him camp it up.

“Yeah, same saint Francis, I guess.”

“So, you’re Mexican?”

“New Mexican, that’s like a mix of old Mexican, Catalan Spanish, and Pueblo. I’ve got family up in Tesuque Pueblo.”

Instead of talking about hooking up, but I knew even before he asked me to show him around, well. He didn’t have a deep voice, he started talking like that, to me. To make it sound older, manlier, and it was sure working, but I had to warn him “Watch out for the bottles.”

The drunks go down there, to avoid an open container ticket, and the stoners used it to smoke, but not to avoid the cops. Plaza cops, they’re just there to write tickets for the best stop-sign in town, and make sure the Tourists aren’t scared off. So, they’ll tell you where to go, to smoke, I guess.

I mean, I don’t smoke, even cigarettes, but I heard that from stoners. So, I don’t know if I want to believe it, or not. Speaking of which, “You a virgin?”

“Yeah,” he just asked me, like that.

“Me too,” and I have never in my whole entire life, before or since heard a boy that age admit that he was a virgin, but I sat down. There was a log, up against the stone wall to sit on, and I already had my pants open. So, I leaned back, with my dick out, standing straight up while he unbuckled his belt, unsnapped his skinny jeans, and the fly.

I don’t know what brand of jeans they were, but they had snaps, 3 of them, I think. Like a button fly, only snaps, he could pop one bye one, and that had to be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. “You like what you see?” I looked up.

“You’re un-cut.” He nodded, then fished around to pull out his pink circumcised cock. “You ever sucked a dick before?”

“No,” I liked my lips, “I never done anything. This is my first time period. I never even kissed a boy before.”

“Oh, sorry.” he leaned down, and kissed my lips. Real quick, but then he stood back up, and I grabbed his pockets to pull his pants down. He held his dick up to my mouth, and I sucked it in. Took a deep breath through my nose, and closed my eyes. Rubbing it hard with my tongue.

“Get it good and wet.” He was a top, “You want to get fucked?” he pulled out, and it popped up. Then, he took his shirt off, and he had abs. Tan lines around his waist, from walking around topless. In skinny jeans I bet.

“Huh, sure.” I hadn’t really thought about it, honestly. I was so worried about getting a boy, that I hadn’t really even considered well. Cock sucking, buttfucking gay sex, but he was from out of town. There was no telling when he’d go back, but there sure wasn’t time for a relationship.

It was a hookup, and yeah I wanted to kiss, hold hands, maybe cuddle a little if it wasn’t too hot, but he wanted to fuck. Me, he wanted to fuck my ass, and maybe I wasn’t ready, but I didn’t care, because honestly, I was just flattered.

We took our clothes off first, with a little slap, and tickle. Grab ass, he stock my dick in his mouth, and even swirled his tongue around in the foreskin, which drove me wild. We dragged the log out, away from the wall, and put our clothes down over it. On the ground so he didn’t have to get on his knees, in the dirt, but he sucked me off first.

Then, he spit it in his hand, and told me to “Bend over.” The log, he slapped it in my butt crack, kinda hard, and rubbed his fingers up, and down. Wiggled one of them in to loosen me up, then fucked his knuckle in and out, until I started moaning. “Oh oh oh!” In time with his knuckle popping in and out.

He fucked me, but. Honestly, I liked the knuckle fuck a lot better. Not hard, he dragged it in and out so I could feel every inch. (All 4 of them) He pulled out a couple times to spit in my ass, and finger it in again, but then he popped his knuckle out to stick his dick in me again.

I loved it, honestly. Especially when he pulled out, and spit in my ass crack to knuckle fuck me again, but finally, he pulled out. One last time, and beat off all over my back. A little hit my butt cheeks too, but most of it shot up, way far up my back.

“Huh!” He sat down, “Huh!” Turned around, and leaned back on the log, to catch his breath. “Fuck, you’ve got a nice tight ass!”

I felt it, “Uh, not any more.” I’m not a virgin any more!

He grinned, and asked me “You got any cigarettes?”

“No, I don’t smoke.”

“Just pole. You sure you never sucked a dick before?”

“You sure you never fucked a boy in the ass before?”

“Well, yeah.” He admitted.

“I thought you’re a virgin?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’ve never done the fucking.”

“Oh, you never Been fucked.”

“Yeah, I’m a top.”

“Well, maybe later, I can fuck you?” I didn’t really know what he ment.

“No, that’s all right.” We put our clothes on, and honestly, I loved the way my shirt stuck to the jizz stripes down my back. I had to find a bathroom, and I didn’t make it before it dribbled out, but he fucked me, with my own cum. I loved that, and I fingered the rest out with his spit on the toilet, but by the time I got out of the Häagen Dazs, he was gone, and I never saw him again.

I still remember him though, Vince. The first boy I ever had any gay sex with. I guess they’re right, you never forget your first.

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