Moving on

Turning 18

Three more hours... that's the remaining time I have left until I arrive in New York City, and it's about fuckin time. I've been taking the bus from Los Angeles for over three days now; delays here and transfers there. The first day on the bus was annoyingly crowded and to make matters worse, everyone could hear screaming and crying throughout most of the first day of this trip because of parents who just can't control their kids. Thankfully, I had my music and headsets to block out most if not all of the noise. I thought the bus I boarded the first day would take me directly to New York, but it was never mentioned on the website where I bought my one-way ticket that I would have to transfer from bus, to bus, to bus. When transferring in Texas, there were delays because the first bus was not working, so I had wait for another. I would be waiting throughout much of the night in the station. In the end, it was kinda worth it. The bus I'm on now that would finally take me to New York was practically empty the entire time. Other than myself and the driver, there's only maybe about seven other adults at the most, but that's it.

As I'm looking outside the window, I thought about how my life has been these past couple of years since I finally became an adult. I was thinking about the good times as well as the bad. When I packed up and headed for the station, I thought by taking one good look at much of Los Angeles, California that I would be able to get on my my life and instantly leave the past behind and focus on my future... but no. Unless I have amnesia, I doubt it's going to be that simple.

Carlos Ramirez Jr. That's my name. I was named after my dad Carlos Ramirez Sr. Up until the age of eight, it was me, him, and my mother, Lori Sanchez, living under the same roof. Dad got himself in trouble with the law numerous times; petty theft, drug possession, and driving while under the influence. Armed robbery was the final straw, and with his parole violation, he was sentenced to twenty-five years. I was raised by my mother. In the years that followed, she would have to leave me home alone while she worked two jobs just so that we could survive in an area that was getting to be increasingly more expensive and not a very good place to live. Her hard work paid off by the time I was sixteen. She was promoted to General Manager for a hotel in the better part of Los Angeles that she's been working in for ten years. Other opportunities were to follow for her, but more on that later.

As for me, I can honestly say I spent much of my teenage years hanging out with what others would say is the “wrong crowd”. I was part of a group that went by the name “Las Sombras”, which meant “The Shadows”. We dressed in black most of the time, and our activities were vandalizing houses and cars, picking fights, and shoplifting. I could fit right in for the most part since I carried on my dad's tradition of taking shit from no one, not even older adults like my teachers in school. Despite all this, I've never been arrested throughout all the times I was making trouble, but I learned the hard way to not press my luck.

Two years ago, I finally hit one eight. The celebration of my birthday went in three different ways. First, my mother's way: having friends and family gather over at our old apartment for the occasion. The next day was was the Las Sombras way: hanging out in an abandoned parking lot area at night blasting loud car music with older ladies so kind enough to put on a strip tease for the birthday boy. Finally, the best part of celebrating the big one eight, was the most epic: my way. It did involve sex... but... not with a girl.

Unknown to my family and my friends, sex with dudes was something I thought about for a good amount of time. I've already lost my virginity to a girl, but... let's keep the reminiscing to a more “mature audience only” scenario and focus what I did after I became barely legal. The thing is, I never hooked up with another dude, especially in my neighborhood. It was too much of a risk to even try it. But reading all of the stories online of how guys fooled around with other dudes for the first time and kept going back for more got me itching to know what it's like. I wanted to see if I could make it happen with one those dating apps that I saw all the time. Finally being eighteen, I figured, let's do this. I gave it a shot, and uploaded some selfie dick pics under the username “Da8phatty4u”, and that was because of what I'm packing: an eight inch cut phatty. Of course, there was no way that I was gonna upload any face pics without the risk of my friends and family finding out. After I posted my pics, I've received messages after messages that were seconds apart from guys wanting to hookup. Seemed to work like a charm. But, some of them did not have any of pics of themselves, or when they did have images, it's pics of  guys who are sexy as hell, but also whom you recognize from social media who are plain heteros. I was in no way gonna be cat-fished, so I blocked them. After a few hours, there was one that stood out to me eventually. It was from someone who went by the name “Bendover”. He said he was a man in his early 40's who was hoping to hook up with a younger guy with a big dick. He went on to say that he was not as fit as me, but hopes to compensate for that with his ass. Out of the twenty eight messages I received, that one seemed like it was the most legit. He posted pictures of his ass, and goddamn, he had ass! Beautiful! I messaged him back, and after some back and forth, he told me how discreet he wanted to be about this because of “his arrangements at home”. It was fine by me. Discretion was the rule regardless. We agreed to meet at his room in a residential hotel which was located at the better part of Los Angeles. Normally, it's the “hunting ground” for Las Sombras, and the area where my mother works, but on this night, it was about finding out if I could really get some good booty.

Saturday night, fifteen minutes till 8pm. I was so fuckin nervous. Part of me wanted to back out immediately. But no, I took the edge of a bit, having a smoke outside the hotel while I mentally prepared for... well, I wasn't sure what was about to happen... yet. “Bendover” was staying in room 701, which was at the far end of the floor. Convenient. When we spoke online, he said he would have his guest room key under the long floor mat next to his room. Call me paranoid, but I kept in handy a pair of shades and a blue baseball cap as a disguise, because even then, I knew that some fuckers would secretly record you while messing around and want to post that shit on tube sites. Taking a few more long deep breaths, I used the key to gain entry to Bendover's room. The lights were dim, and I went straight to the bedroom. There he was... Bendover. He was definitely living up to the name. He was poised in doggy-style on the edge of the bed, wearing only a purple long-sleeve shirt and a matching jockstrap. He was a bit of a big chubby guy but not too chubby. Oh, but that did not matter in the slightest, because my god, that ass of  his! It was everything that was shown in the pictures online, but looked so much better up close. This well-structured big ass was facing me right there, and I could not help but bite down on my left knuckle because it looked so good. I could tell that this was the room where he took pictures of his ass to post online. Bendover had a blindfold on, keeping everything as discreet as possible, but even though I did not see any cams around, no way was I gonna take of my cap and shades. I did notice the tattoo on the back of his neck that read “Laura”. I figured it was the “arrangements” he had at home. As I felt his ass, he said hi, and I responded by saying “Hey, I'm Da8phatty4u”. I told him how this was my first time, and he told me to do whatever I wanted to do with that ass. Much obliged. Aside from having that humongous ass spread out on the edge of the bed, there was his nice pink hairless hole as if it was the cherry on top.

 I quickly got out of my nervous phase and bent down to bury my face in that ass like a man possessed. Yeah, already I was a nasty boy. While I was doing this, I unfastened the belt on my jeans and unzipped my pants. I stood back up, shaking those plump ass cheeks with both of my hands, and my baggy pants along with my boxers gave into gravity and fell right at my ankles. My phatty was at full attention to the point where it even decided to “drool”. Once I removed my shirt, I was almost butt-ass naked, but again, I made sure my shades and cap were kept on. I ate out Bendover for just a bit more (he loved it of course) and after using spit and Vaseline to get all lubed up, my phatty got acquainted with all that backside. Just feeling it for the first time, I could only just gasp. Warm, tight... always the makings of the perfect pussy. Plus, I didn't use condoms that night, so it felt even more intense. If I was ever nervous that night, at this point, not anymore. I grabbed him by the hips while I worked that ass; in and out. I reached around to feel his crotch, and I could tell he had a boner, so I whipped it out for him and started stroking it. He had nice dick on him, too. Next, I removed his jockstrap completely. He had a nice set of hanging low balls dangling down, then I went back to pound-town. Bendover straightened himself up a bit when I pulled him closer to me, burying every bit of this gran polla in that sweet ass, grinding and gyrating my hips left to right, and Bendover gave off some good whimpers and moans of  “oh yeah, baby”. Pulling my cap backwards, I showed him how much I was loving it by first kissing him on the neck and right on the lips. Then it was time for me to nut. I was thinking about warning him, but he did say do what I want to him and impregnating that ass just seemed too good to miss out on. Which is what I did; BEST. FEELING. EVER. I gave him one more kiss and watched as my baby batter oozed out from his ass. I spent another five minutes pumping him some more until my cock was spent. I got dressed and gave Bendover's ass a nice little smack as I made my exit. Now, that's how you celebrate your eighteenth! Gotta say, thinking about that night got me hard. With practically no one in sight, I decided to “free the beast”, and started stroking mi polla to a climax. Hope the cleaning crew won't be too pissed off.

I took the bus back home since it was getting a little late. I sat in the very back of the bus, leaning back, arms folded, legs spread apart, thinking about what was at the time the most amazing experience in my life and how I had to do more soon. Then I remembered I had my mobile turned off the entire time, and when I switched it back on, I got a text from Angela, my girlfriend at the time, who was asking me if I wanted to hang out the following day, as well as a text from one of my boys from Las Sombras, who also wanted to hang out on the following Sunday. I figured I'd talk to them later and went back to thinking how the night went. My eyes were closed and I had a big smile on my face. Some of the other passengers were probably looking at me like I was crazy, but I could really give a fuck. As I was about four minutes away from home, there were my boys: Herman, Chico, and Paulo from Las Sombras. I was not expecting to see them so soon. They noticed the mood I was in and and Paulo asked me “What the fuck are you so happy about?”. I told them nothing. Like I wanted them to know I just boned a dude? No way! I said to Herman that I got his text, and that once I spent the day with Angela tomorrow, I could hang out with them. Chico, shaking his head asked me if was ever going to be able bone Angela, especially since we are out of high school now. But we already knew that it was not gonna happen. Angela, as beautiful as he she was, is one of those types who is saving sex for marriage. That's why I hooked up with other girls, and whenever Angela suspected anything, my boys would have my back; an excuse here and an excuse there.

To the disgust of nearby passengers, and likely the bus driver, we had our usual pussy talks that can be heard throughout the entire bus followed up with loud laughter and cackling. Good times. When we exited the bus, we were still chatting, but it got silent in a hurry after seeing mama. She just got back home from some late shopping. When she saw me with the boys, she was not happy. For years, she always knew the type of trouble I was getting into with Las Sombras, then she would yell at me, punish me, and lecture me. The boys, knowing exactly where this is going, decided to say “see ya later, holmes”. Can't blame them, though. Even if we were the toughest gang there is, nothing, and I mean nothing is not as tough as my angry mama. I was expecting mi madre to do the usual “where have you been?” “what were you doing?” “I told you I don't want you to hang out with those boys” and so on. But on this night, she was quiet. She just went about stocking up on groceries, watching television in the living room, and not a peep. It was starting to get to me, so I finally had the courage to ask her if she was going to mention anything about my hanging out with some of the boys again. She looked at me, almost emotionless, and said “You're an adult now and I have to accept that you must make your own choices in life. I can only hope that you make the right decisions eventually. Because whatever trouble you get yourself into, I can't bare the burden of problems making there way to my doorstep time and time again as it did with your father”. She then resumed watching the television and I went back to my room. Her words were heavy and I really felt it; even more so than the times she's yelled at me. I think at this point, she was insinuating that I might be following the same path as my father: a convict in jail. I spent the remainder of my night in bed, staring at the ceiling, before finally falling asleep. It was just the beginning for some tough times.

To be continued...