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Barrio Boy Gives Me A Load


whthole4u

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Barrio Boy Gives Me a Load: I was living in San Antonio and the gay rodeo had come to town, which was a pretty big deal as gay men and women from all over the state came to the city to enjoy the festivities. It was a Saturday afternoon and I went to see that afternoon’s rodeo show with a group of friends so we could eye the cowboy candy, hangout, and just have fun. We spent all afternoon and into early evening at the rodeo and by the time we moved to one of the gay country western bars off North Main I was pretty buzzed, horned, and eager to find some raw cowboy dick.

 

Far too quickly my friends said they were ready to leave, which was just fine with me as they had cock blocked me anytime I even glanced at one of the strangers visiting town. Usually I only drank beer, but that night had had a few shots of tequila and was having a blast so told them I would grab a cab and to go on without me. I was sure I would get lucky now that my friends had left. Well, I’m not sure what was in the air that night, but I was having no luck with the cowboy crowd at all and said fuck it, time to go home. I headed out of the club and decided to walk a bit and turned right onto the side street instead of left to North Main. I had barely gone a block when this car slowed down beside me and this Mexican guy leaned over and asked through the open window (in a very heavy Spanish accent), “Wanna ride?” I was a bit drunk by then and decided to ignore the fact that I could smell the strong aroma of weed coming out of his car and the fleeting thought of cops pulling us over, or that he looked a bit rough, and totally straight. I was horny and ever hopeful and said, “Sure, thanks man.”

 

As soon as I sat in the car he started driving. He did not ask me where I lived and I did not really care and naively it did not even cross my mind that he might try to rob me, or worse. I asked him if he lived in the city and he said, “Si,” then several words in Spanish I did not understand. He then pointed several times with his left thumb towards to west side of town and said, “En el barrio. Barrio.” Aaahhh. OK. We drove for a couple minutes when he handed a joint to me and asked, “You want?” I said, “No, thanks, but I don’t mind if you do and want some company.” The barrio boy looked at me sideways as he drove and I could not tell what his was thinking, but he said, “OK” and kept driving. At the next stop light he set his still it joint in the ahstray, then reached under his seat, pulled out a plastic baggy that looked like a giant marshmellow, untwisted the rubber band that was keep the end closed. I watched as he then leaned over and opened the glove compartment, fished around, and pulled out two small, metal straws. The barrio boy handed one to me and then with other he put one tip into his nose and the other into the raised baggy and SNORTED. He switched to the other nostril, SNORTED, shook his head, turned to me and smiled and handed the baggy to me. I eyed the chunky powder, took my metal straw and mimicked what I saw him do. HOLY FUCK! After the initial nose weirdness, I felt light, full of energy, my mind seemed less foggy from drinking, and my horniness level went from 8 to 10, 10, 10. The light changed, the barrio boy laughed and nodded his head enjoying the shared elation, and handed me the rubber band so I could close up the goody bag. While I had tops order me to do coke again in the future, it never seemed to live up to that first time – and night.

 

Several minutes later we pulled into a parking lot of a store and he hopped out and went inside. I started to look around realized I had no fucking idea where I was in the city, but again, did not really care. I hefted the good bag and was tempted to snort some more, but there were too many people around, so I laid my head back on the seat, closed my eyes a moment, listened to the music, and the sounds of the city around us. The barrio boy hopped back in the car and handed me a bottle of tequila in a brown paper bag and gave me a wicked smile. He also set a bag on the back seat that I could see had beer in it. I had not really paid attention before, but in the bright lights from the store and parking lot I then realized he was sort of hot. Nice thick mustache, wavy dark hair, about my age, and damn those eyes. The car revved back to life, we started driving again and I took a big swig of tequila and coughed and choked. Damn that shit burned! The barrio boy laughed, grabbed the bottle, threw back a deep swig, smiled and set the bottle between his crotch and the steering wheel. I was hoping that was an invitation of things to come.

 

We continued to drive around the city for a while taking turns swigging from the bottle of tequila, emptying a few beers, him smoking his joints, and both of us taking turns snorting powder. The barrio boy still did not say anything as it was clear our language barrier –for general conversation anyways – was a problem, so we just smiled and nodded at each other and enjoyed the company. After a while he turned the car down a side street that was a bit darker and took several more turns. I realized I was not seeing any cars anymore and it was getting darker and darker. He finally stopped the car and I looked around. It appeared we were in the middle of a bunch of warehouses that were a good ways west of downtown as I could see the city center off to my right. No people, no cars, no idea where I was and maybe I should have been afraid, but the tequila made me say what the fuck – whatever.

 

The barrio boy parked the car and turned it car off. I was enveloped in quiet and darkness save for the light cast by the nearly full moon and the small security light dangling by a wire on the corner of the warehouse. My eyes then turned to my Mexican friend, he looked over at me and gave me a crooked smile and I melted. He then turned the radio to a more mellow Spanish music station, pulled out another joint and lit up, took a big hit, smiled again, sat back in the seat, closed his eyes and let it take. I was still sort of confused and not sure what exactly was up, so took another swig of tequila and chased it with two big snorts. I then grabbed two more beers and handed one to him and he nodded his thanks. I had downed about half the beer when I glanced at him and saw he was rubbing his crotch. Or was I just drunk? High? No he was definitely rubbing his crotch. He put the joint between his lips, arched his body and unzipped his pants, and this fat, uncut dick flopped out. Now that his dick could breathe, he grabbed the lighter, relit his joint, looked at me and gave me that smile again. OK, I knew what was up now. I leaned over, gently rolled his foreskin back, took a nice long whiff of his unwashed dick, and started sucking it. I heard him inhale deep and then smelled the weed smoke wash over me as he exhaled. I just kept sucking. He had a long foreskin that I was able to nibble on and lick each time I went down on him and had not washed in a while for sure as he tasted sweaty, clammy, and somewhat sour, but damn it tasted good!

 

I soon realized I had to piss – bad – so paused my work on his dick, opened the passenger’s door, got out, stood near the back of the car and started to piss. I had dropped my shorts and jumped a little when I felt a hand touching my ass. I looked to my left and the barrio boy was now standing beside me with his dick half hard, his pants around his ankles, and a huge stream of piss flowing out his cock. FUCK that made me hard! He finished up, shook the last few drops off, and I got on my hands and knees and started to suck him again.

 

I sucked him for a while, then I felt him push me down by my shoulders. We were in a parking lot and it was rough, there was gravel, my knees were already hurting, but he pushed me onto my back, lifted my legs, spit on his hand, rubbed his dick, then pushed his dick against my ass – HARD. It took my breath away when he popped through my hole, and so I wrapped my arms around his neck and felt his weight as he started pumping my ass. Part of my brain was asking what the fuck was I doing, I should ask him to stop and put on a condom, where was I, etc… but my ass took over and I just gave in and felt him ride me. I wanted him to breed me so bad and was thankful he was drunk enough to fuck me raw. I almost chuckled a little as I thought, “I wonder how to say ‘PLEASE CUM IN ME’ in Spanish.”

 

The barrio boy fucked my ass hard and without mercy and the gravel and broken pavement poked and tore into my back. This was clearly a fuck for his pleasure, and he was taking what he wanted. With every stroke he came almost all the way out (and a couple times he did come all the way out) and then slammed back in. He did not say a word, but held me tight and grunted and moaned with every thrust. I continued to hold my arms tight around his neck and loved the smell of his hair and skin as he fucked me like some street hooker. I was so out of it – between the tequila and dick in my ass I was floating in bliss and am sure had a big old grin on my face. After a while he pulled out, got on his knees, looked at me, smiled again, grabbed my hand and pulled me up as he stood up. He then bent me over the trunk of the car and in one stroke buried his dick back up my ass, and I just held on feeling his fat uncut dick slide in and out. Soon he started to grunt and say something in Spanish. I had no idea what, but hoped it was good. His dick swelled, he grabbed me in a bear hug, and I felt him unload his Mexican sperm in my guts, and I begged for it all as his dick twitched and spasmed inside me.

 

Finally spent, he yanked his dick out of my ass and stood there in the parking lot looking at me. His face was shadowed and I was not sure if he was angry now and realized what he had done through his drunken/stoned haze or what. But, I knelt back down on the pavement and licked and sucked on his dick to clean him off and he did not stop me. Fuck he tasted good. Once I was finished to his satisfaction, he pulled up his pants up around his hips, walked around and sat back in the car, lit up another joint and relaxed back into the seat. I climbed back into the passenger’s side and when he smiled at me I knew it was all good. Well that and the fact that his dick was still flopped out onto his lap as he had not zipped his pants back up.

 

As he tapped out the final spark his joint, the barrio boy took the baggy, did multiple snorts in each nostril, handed the baggy to me and got out of the car. I figured he had to piss or something so I stayed where I was and coated my nose. He then ducked his head back inside and said something, but then remembering I did not speak Spanish he urged me to come over towards him with short frantic waves of his right hand. I got out, walked around the back of the car, and met him at the now open back door on the driver’s side. The barrio boy pushed his pants down to his ankles and started stroking his dick, his intent clear – he wanted more ass. I scooted into the open doorway of the car and leaned forward with my hands on the seat. Once again I had no idea what he said, be he must have liked the view as he quickly forced his raw dick back in my ass using his first load as lube. This time the fuck was about both of us as I pushed back, spread my legs so my hole opened more, and met every one of this thrusts with one of my own. He was not so quiet this time and the more he fucked, the more verbal he got, and the louder his voice rose, the more I was sure somebody would hear us and call the cops.

 

Far too soon I was back on my knees licking his now soft dick clean. We both got back in the car, drank a little more, and about 5 minutes later, he closed his door, started the car, and began driving. Soon we were back near the clubs and I told him he could just let me out any place. As I hopped in the cab to finally head home, my ass full of Mexican leche, I was finally satisfied.

 

The next day I met up with my friends at a pool party and a few of them razzed me because I would not take my shirt off and did not feel like being in the sun. I just used the ‘fucking tequila worked me over’ excuse. How could I explain the cuts, scratches, and red marks on my back and ass from being fucked raw in some parking lot? How could I tell them about the anonymous Mexican guy I rode around the city with while snorting his cocaine before bending over for his raw dick and his sticky churro? No, some things are best kept to myself.

 

I went back to that block by the clubs several times after going out, hoping I would see him again. I never did, but did end up doing a hot three way with two other barrio boys one night. That’s a story for another time.

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