My Papi

I needed to have my hair trimmed and Nick recommended a small salon in Chelsea that he goes to and said to get a cut from the owner. I made an appointment. Wow! It sure cost a lot more than the Washington Heights barber! Only the best for me now.

It was a small place with three other stylists. I checked in with the pretty girl receptionist close to when they were closing. I put on a robe. Then the owner introduced himself. Armando was Hispanic, mid-thirties, worked out, great smile, wearing white jeans and a red print short sleeve shirt. He was obviously gay.

“What did you have in mind?” I explained. “Great. I can manage that! Take a seat at the sink.” He shampooed and washed my hair with his strong hands massaging my head. It was kind of sexy the way he rubbed me. I was back in his chair and he started cutting and talking, asking about me like a normal conversation.

“I have to ask. I noticed your last name. Now that I see you, are you Francisco’s son?” “Yes, I am.” “Incredible! There’s such a strong resemblance! I’m a cousin of his. That makes us cousins too. We grew up together. I haven’t seen him or any of the relatives since I left the neighborhood.”

Shit! This had to be the “faggot” cousin my told father me “he helped out” before he fucked me for the first time. I started getting hard imagining the two of them together. We went chatting on and I caught him up on everybody as he finished cutting my hair. “There’s no charge. You’re family.” “Oh, come on please.” “No, I insist.” “You’re going to close soon. I’ll buy you a drink.” “How nice of you.” I hung around for 20 minutes until the other stylists and the receptionist left and he closed up.

“How about Boxers? It’s nearby.” He looked at me weird. “It’s cool I’m gay. It runs in the family.” We laughed. I was excited about going to a gay bar for the first time and I heard of this one. Wow! The built bartenders in nothing but shorts. All the different types of guys.

We were sitting at a table in Boxers, a big gay sports bar. I was sipping a Corona and he was drinking a martini. I bought the drinks and the bartender wanted to see my ID.  Armando was married and he and his husband owned a brownstone in Harlem. The husband was Puerto Rican and worked as a chef in a fancy restaurant.

“Your father was good for me in many ways and in some ways not. I was scared about what I was and never told anyone. He was always friendly to me. He was also my first lover. Don’t be shocked. He was with lots of girls, including your mother of course. At my 18th birthday party, he said he had a special present for me. We went back to his apartment and we were alone because his family were still at my party. I will always remember that night.”

“We went to his room. ‘Where is my present?’ He pulled down his sweatpants and took out his fabulous manhood. ‘This is your present. You know what to do with it.’ I had been consumed with thoughts of being with a man. Now, my sexy cousin was offering me his dick. I thought I would faint when I put it in mouth and was overwhelmed by the taste and feeling of it. He guided me on how to do it. Soon, he took my virginity. He was tender yet dominant and he brought me to greatest orgasm of my life. We cleaned ourselves and went back to the party.”

“During the several times we were alone together he taught me how to really please a man and also how the world works. I was innocent and thought what we had was special. Then he got the family into it. Since I was maricon anyway, he told me it was my duty to give pleasure to the men in the family. I would go to different apartments and cousins and uncles would be there wanting to fuck with me. I was confused but turned on. They didn’t force me. I was compelled.”

“Even my father and my brothers used me. I would have sex with them and then we’d all act like everything was normal. Things got bad when my father and brothers pimped me out to other guys. They said they’d tell my mother what I was and so I just did what they told me to do. I didn’t go to college. I was the neighborhood whore, going with anyone who paid and giving my father the money. I was giving blowjobs to friends and teachers from high school that I had been close to, but I was now just a slut to them. ”

“They set me up in the storage room of our building and bribed the super. I’d hang out there and wait for men they sent. Once, I was getting fucked by the super. He forgot to lock the door and my mother who was doing laundry nearby heard our noises and opened the door and saw us. She screamed at me that I was disgusting and would go to hell. 

When my father and brothers got home from work she told them what happened and that she was throwing me out. My father and brothers yelled at me for being so wicked. I packed some of my stuff and took the subway down to The Village. I turned tricks and crashed with people who felt sorry for me, an older man later paid for me to go to a hair styling academy. I’ve only told my husband about this. He kept wanting to know why I don’t want to have anything to do with my family.”

I got us another round of drinks.