Thinking Back To That First Time

My mother's sister married this man from Bolivia. He owned a mechanic's shop working on used cars. When I was too old for a babysitter and too young to stay at home alone I had to go to my uncle's shop after school. At the shop he had several men working for him, maybe four or five, or sometimes three. All them were Hispanics, one of them was from Honduras, Julio.

He was always nice to me and would talk with me if he wasn't working on something. One day I went looking for him and I couldn't find him so I went around back to where the spare parts were kept in a shed. The door was open enough to see in, and the little window provided the light. I saw my uncle and him kissing, like a man and woman. I watched. After a lot of kissing and my uncle grabbing and rubbing his butt, my uncle unbuckled his pants and Julio got on his knees and started to suck him. After a minute Julio stood up and lowered his pants and bent over and my uncle stood behind him and fucked him.

After that day I related to Julio differently. I didn't care about my uncle, all I wanted was to be like Julio, to be kissed like that and to be fucked. My wet dreams were about being fucked. At the movies or in school or at the mall I looked to see if I could see the guy's next to me penis. I liked Hispanics, and when I was older Julio showed me his penis and I sucked him and sucked him until he told me to stand up and he helped me get my pants down and I got fucked.

I didn't know it, but Hispanics look younger than they are. Julio was 31 but he looked like he was 21. And Julio was my uncle's boy and I was Julio's boy. At least until I went to college.