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around my way


June 3 2006

The first thing that Joey asked when he saw me was who had hurt me. I didn’t want to tell him that I had been roughed up by some of the guys from West Side. Somehow I just knew that wouldn’t go over well. It wasn’t until he threatened to kick Rogers ass that I told him of what had happened. I left out the part of about Nate, I didn’t want to worry him so I told him that a few Westies thought I was in a different gang and when they found out I wasn‘t they left me alone. He took me into his bathroom and I sat on the toilet as he cleaned my wounds. The peroxide stung a little, signaling that I was in worst shape than I thought. He was gentle with his applications and I smiled to myself. I felt so good having him take care of me. For the first time in a long time I felt safe and secure. He took extra care in how he cleaned my injuries and when he was finished he kissed the tip of my nose. I stood up and looked in the bathroom mirror to examine my bruised cheek. I didn’t look all that bad, despite the dark blue mark across my cheek and a small cut above my eyebrow, I was left virtually unscathed. I looked in the mirror and Joey who stood behind me and I could see the furry bubbling over in his eyes.

“What you thinking about?” I asked him and he embraced me from behind and stared into the bathroom mirror at my reflected eyes.

“You don’t want to know.” He replied as he buried his head in my neck.

“Please just let this go-.”

“Look at what those mutha fuckers did to you! Take off your shirt!” He demanded as he broke our embrace and turned me around to face him. I didn’t want to because I was afraid of him seeing what may have laid underneath. I had been kicked repeatedly and judging from the tingling in my sides, I knew it would look bad.

“Why?” I asked quietly knowing I would do it anyway.

“Just take it off, please.” He begged. I was fighting a losing battle and I complied and he gasped at what he saw. My stomach was covered in large dark bruises. My light skin did nothing to hide the many discolorations inflicted by their sneakers and boots. Joey reached out and caressed the bruises gently. His touches were sensitive and soothing. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to be consumed with his touches. His fingers swept gently across each mark and contusion. I knew it wasn’t possible, but it felt as if he was soothing away my pain. His touch brought me to levels of elation that I had never thought possible before I had met him. I felt close to him, but I wanted to fell closer. I needed to feel closer. Maybe I just needed the reassurance that I was loved or maybe I wanted to express to Joey how strongly I felt for him. Either way, I knew that I wanted more than a few kisses and gentle touches. I wanted to make love. I was ready this time, and I wanted it more than anything else in the world. I pulled myself out of his grasp and turned to face him. I was afraid to ask him for what I wanted. I was afraid of him telling me what he wanted.

“Joey….” I whispered and he looked at me expectantly.

“Yeah baby?”

“I’m ready….” He looked confused for a minute and then it hit him as to what I wanted to do. He smiled and we tried to walk out of the bathroom slowly, but we were both too anxious and began to run down towards the basement. He was pulling me behind him and trying to dodge the coffee tables in his living room. Unconsciously we took a long detour through the den so we wouldn’t pass the many religious works of arts that his parents had everywhere. Mrs. Torres even had a shrine built to the Mother Mary herself, a site that was beautiful yet it scared me. People who were religious never bothered me, but there was difference between devotion and being fanatical. Joey’s grip on my hand tighten and he turned around to smile at me and tripped over his feet, falling to the ground. His cheeks were red with embarrassment and I had to laugh. I didn’t want him to feel bad, but he was just so cute laying there face down on the rug. His baggy red jersey halfway up his body with his wife beater tank peeking through.

“Oh you think that’s funny huh?” He asked with his own smile blinding me. God, I didn’t think it was possible to feel so good about a simple smile. It filled my heart with warmth and that radiated through out my whole body. I was SO in love!

“I’m…sorry….baby.” I managed to say between laughs. He pulled himself up and attacked my face with his kisses from the forehead down. He moved his lips to my neck and when I felt the tip of his hot tongue on my neck, I lost it. I pulled away and smiled at him. The look of hunger and passion on his face was rapidly turning me on and I found myself then leading him towards the basement steps. It seemed like it took an hour to get there, but we finally did. In a rush, we locked the doors and made an attack for each others clothes. He ripped off my sweat shirt and I ripped of his jersey. Off went his pants and as I struggled with mine. I was trying to take them off when I lost my footing and fell on my butt to the carpet. Now it was Joey’s turn to laugh at me. Mr. Prepared was already down to just his boxers and wife beater. His yellow boxers made his milky complexion glow and I wanted to do nothing more than just pull them down. I laughed and pulled him down with me. He laughed as I threw my body against his, climbing on top of him. My pants were at my ankles and I fought to kick them off. The more I squirmed on top of him, the harder we both became. I kissed his mouth tentatively and pulled back to look in those crystal blue eyes. No matter how many times I looked into those eyes, a rush still ran through me. He rolled me off of him and pulled me up with him. He walked me over to his bed and I sat down as he fumbled to open a new CD. The stupid tape wasn’t coming off and I chuckled as he struggled to rip it open with his teeth. He grunted and a look of pure bliss went over his face as he finally unwrapped. He looked over at me and impishly smirked.

“Close your eyes.” He whispered and I did. Soon the sound of Damien Rice’s “Delicate” began to play. My heart raced and my body temperature shot up. After all the years of uncertainty and confusion I had finally found some solace. Joey was the one thing in my world that I needed. I needed him and he needed me...............

*We might kiss when we are alone
*When nobody's watching
*I might take you home
*We might make out when nobody's there
*It's not that we're scared
*It's just that it's delicate…..

He had bought the CD. I smiled to myself and he came over and laid down next to me, his body halfway on top of mine with his long lean legs resting against my sides. He kissed my nose then moved down to my lips briefly. His tongue moved between my lips parting them tenderly. It was like his tongue was asking a question and he was looking for the answer in my mouth. He sucked my lower lip into his pink mouth and I let out a moan. His lips were smaller than mine, but softer. He tasted like mints. His hands began to massage the sides of my waist, taking time to gingerly rub as to not aggravate my injuries. I opened my eyes briefly to see that his were already open, watching the passion of our kisses unleash. I wanted him so bad. I wanted to show him how much I loved him……….

*So why do you fill my sorrow
*With the words you've borrowed
*From the only place you've known
*And why do you sing Hallelujah
*If it means nothing to you
*Why do you sing with me at all?…..

He worked his way down my neck and between each kiss and suckle, he managed to pull off my T-shirt. Tenderly he licked my hardened nipples. They were a few shades darker than his, but just as proud. His tongue flickered slowly around my areolas causing me to shudder in ecstasy. He took that as a sign and continued to suck and lovingly bite down. I could feel the force of his tongue with every flick and stroke across my chest. I could do nothing, but run my fingers through his wavy light brown hair. God, I loved how soft it felt against my fingers. It felt so good to feel the softness and warmth exuding from him. His hair smelled like his body, fresh like he had just showered. I could smell the soap still in his hair: like a clean rainy day. God, I wanted him, I wanted him so bad…….

*We might live like never before
*When there's nothing to give
*Well how can we ask for more
*We might make love in some sacred place
*The look on your face is delicate……

He moved himself lower and lower until he reached my thighs and tenderly French kissed them. My body tensed as I realized that he would be the first person to ever get so up and close with my most intimate of places. That mixed with the fear of what was about to happen almost made me tell him to stop, but I couldn’t. I wanted this so bad that it hurt. He worked my boxer briefs down and looked up at me fearfully. All self-consciousness that I had felt, disappeared and I wanted nothing more than to have him kiss me there. I smiled down at him reassuringly and he began to lick up my thigh as his hand tentatively gripped my hard-on. As his fingers closed around me, I did the only thing that I could, I moaned. It felt strange at first having someone else touch me there, but I soon lost all train of thought as I felt his mouth hovering over me. I could feel the hotness from his breaths blowing down and I had to bite my lip to stop from screaming. I was painfully erect and wanted nothing more than to feel his hot mouth consume me, but I was also afraid. I was scared of what taking this step might mean. Call me a “girl” if you want to, but I was. We had really just gotten together and everything was still “new”. I just hoped that things wouldn’t change after we took this final step. He looked up at me again as if asking for permission which he received as I smiled and nodded my head reassuringly. He slowly opened his pink mouth and I closed my eyes as I prepared myself for what I knew was going to be the best experience of my life. His tongue snaked across the head and he tentatively took me into his mouth. My legs began to clench and I hissed out a moan, that embarrassed me a little, but that thought wouldn’t occur until I was home later that day and had time to re-play the events over in my head. No, the first time was a magical moment that I wanted to last forever. My hands found the way to the back of his head and our rhythmic movements were leading me towards the most wonderful of endings. I had never experienced such pleasure before and I knew that I would never find anything better. Up…Down… Pull….Kiss …Stroke! Over and over again he repeated these actions until I couldn’t take it. A bright light flashed across my eyes and my head started to spin as my knees shook and my body tensed. I had the most wonderful of endings as my seed spilled in the air and into his hand. He pulled away just in time and continued to intimately touch me as his body worked back up to my face and he kissed me. I could taste me inside his mouth, but all I was concerned with was showing him how much he meant to me. It ended quicker than I had hoped, but I knew that the next time would me longer. I opened my eyes to see the love exuding from Joeys and it was time that I showed him how much I loved him……….

*So why do you fill my sorrow
*With the words you've borrowed
*From the only place you've known
*And why do you sing Hallelujah
*If it means nothing to you
*Why do you sing with me at all?…….

I kissed his deep pink mouth and lightly nipped at his lower lip. Despite my exhaustion, I rolled him over so that I was now on top. I kissed his neck and tasted the sweet and salty taste of his sweat, but that didn’t bother me. Lower and lower I kissed him until I reached his chest. I mimicked his actions and moved to take one his deep rose nipples into my mouth. He hissed out air, which I felt blow past my face. I had never asked him, but I assumed that this was his first time too and I wanted to make it memorable. I took turns biting down on each nipple until they both stood hard and proud. I kissed slowly down his lean stomach. It was soft and warm and tasted faintly of sweat like his neck. I reached my hand inside of his boxers and was consumed by its heat. I let my fingers softly grip his penis. He was slightly above average and more than normally thick in girth. He moaned louder and asked me to kiss it. I blushed at his dirty talk and complied. There was really no taste other than skin to mouth contact. The other times with Hector I could always remember the foul tastes and foreign smells, but with Joey it was beautiful. I lowered my mouth over his penis and began to suckle. His strong hands guided my head up and down. This was it, it was really happening…….

*So why do you fill my sorrow
*With the words you've borrowed
*From the only place you've known
*And why do you sing Hallelujah
*If it means nothing to you
*Why do you sing with me at all?………

His moans became louder and louder. I knew that he was about to reach his climax and that only urged me on. I closed my mouth around him tighter and the flicking actions of my tongue combined with the jerking grip of my hand was pushing him forward. I could feel myself still throbbing from the expertise of Joey’s mouth and the wetness between myself and his sheets was a reminder of the pleasant joy that I had just experienced. He moaned out again and cried out in Spanish. “No pare por favor! Te quiero! Te queiro!” ( Please don’t stop! I love you! I love you!) and with that his body tensed and he gripped my head hard. I had no hair for him to grab onto and I could feel both of his hands cradling the back of my head as had his own spectacular ending. I had just moved my head, but if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have minded. My hand was sticky with his love and I continued to stroke him. I looked up at him cautiously and his eyes were still rolled back inside of his head. Our seeds lay spilled out in little sticky ropes all over his comforter and entangled between the two of us. We were both exhausted and slightly dizzy as we struggled to regain our loss breaths.

“God! That was……” He struggled to say as I moved up to lay next to him. He embraced me and I leaned my hand on his chest listening to the pounding of his heart as it struggled to come down of his high.

“Yeah, it was.” I agreed. Our bodies were sticky with sweat and heat. I felt so safe in his embrace and so at home. I cuddled closer, his arm around my neck. I don’t know why, but I started to stare down at our feet. His feet were two sizes bigger than mine and the palest part of his body. His pinkish toes were a strong contrast to my honey colored ones. They complemented each other like we complemented each other. The song must have been on repeat because we heard it start for what seemed like the sixth time. I wanted to do what we had just finished doing again and we did……twice more! I smiled in contentment as I realized I was in love and loved back. I finally felt like I found where I belonged and it was with Joey.


We had plans to grab lunch and a movie, but we opted to just stay at his house and watch a flick on cable in his living room. He wanted me to meet his family which I was a little nervous about doing. We weren’t going to come out or anything stupid like that, but he wanted me to meet them none-the-less. The first person that I met was his younger brother Matt. He was two years younger than Joey, but believe it or not he looked older. His eyes were a darker shade of blue than Joey’s and he was the same exact height, just a little thinner. His face looked more like a grown man than of a teenager barley fourteen.

“What up Kid! This my boy Chris.” Joey said and Matt nodded a hello to me. He was a nice enough guy. We didn’t really talk much, but I could see the closeness between the two brothers as they playful insulted each other. I often wished that I had a brother to grow up with, but Andy and Wesley filled that void. Matt’s voice was deep and his accent was that of a tough guy, just like Joey‘s. He seemed like the kind of kid who didn’t hang out in the streets, but was associated with people who did. He had to leave for a basketball game so he only stayed for a few minutes. His sister Jenny was cool too. She looked like the exact opposite of Joey and Matt. They both were extremely light in their coloring, but Jennifer was dark in almost every aspect. Her eyes were an extremely dark brown and her hair was a chocolate brown. Like her brothers, she had wavy hair, but hers was stiff with gel and flowed long down to her shoulders. She still had a little baby fat on her, but had the makings of a cute small frame on her short five foot two frame. She greeted me in a hug and immediately took to me.

“Hey Chris it’s nice to meet you. Ohhh! You got some pretty eyes! What are you?” She asked me. She had the slight trace of an accent like Matt. Joey’s accent only came out when something had excited him both in good ways and bad.

“Huh? What am I?” I asked confused. She looked up at me and giggled. This girl was just way too cute for her own good.

“Silly, You Dominican?” She giggled again.

“Oh! No, I’m black.” I replied and laughed.

“Cool, its just your eyes is so pretty I thought you might be mixed. Joey, ain’t his eyes pretty?” She asked innocently and he began to blush. A flush of red spread across his white neck and I could feel the heat from his embarrassment spread to me. He looked at her and shrugged his reply nonchalantly, but I remembered our phone conversation where he confessed that my eyes are what turned him on the most. His sister asked what was wrong and it took all my will power not to burst out laughing. He told her that he was hot and she looked at him sideways before dropping the subject. She left a few minutes later to go out shopping.

Joey and I snuck a couple of kisses here and there on his couch before his mother came home. I was expecting a calm, sweet natured woman from how her children seemed to be, but boy was I wrong. That woman scared the shit out of me! It was clearly apparent where Jennifer got her looks from. Mrs. Torres was a short, thick bodied woman with dark features and threatening stares. She looked to be in her early forties and was dressed completely in black. Black blouse, black pants and black shoes all head to toe without a hint of skin showing anywhere. The smell of her perfume was strong, but not overpowering. Like most Latin women, she coddled her son and was cautious of my intentions. She greeted Joey in a warm embrace and eyed me suspiciously with one of her onyx eyes.

“Ma this is my boy ,Chris. Chris, my ma.” Joey said. I reached my hand out to shake hers, but she didn’t return the gesture. She may have had a wide body, but she was a very tiny woman, no more than five feet tall. Her long bone straight black hair, wisped across her eyes intimidating me.

“Chris. Hum….. Are you in the gang to?” She asked me, cutting to the chase. Unlike her children and her husband, there was no trace of an accent when she spoke. Her voice was a little deeper than I would have expected from a woman. She had three gold crucifix necklaces around her neck and rosary beads dangled from her pockets. This was a God fearing woman. Hell, I’ll bet God feared her!

“Ma! Why you always assuming that? No he’s ain’t in the gang!” Joey interjected. His mother shot him the “evil eye” and he went quiet.

“Good! I told you I don’t want none of those lowlifes in my home! There going to get you killed baby!” She continued and Joey rolled his eyes. I got the feeling that this wasn’t the first time he had heard this speech.

“Ma! Not now!” Joey whined and glanced over at me. Mrs. Torres rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to me.

“So Chris, if your not in the gang, what do you do?” She asked with no hint of affection. I had no clue how to answer that. What did she expect me to say ‘Hi , I’m Chris and I just fucked your son.’ No, that wouldn’t be good.

“I go to school with Joey. I’m a Junior.” I said to her and her looks softened.

“Oh? You go to school. That’s good, very good! Are you going to go to College?” I planned on going, but had no clue where and what I wanted to major in was another unanswered question.

“Yeah, but I just don’t know where yet.” I replied and that satisfied her. To my surprise she sat down in the living room and asked what we were watching. I have this bad habit of being hopelessly addicted to T.V. Land. I just love old comedies from the fifties and sixties. There is something about comedy shows from that era that I found hilarious. Joey was a total sports nut and had me watching some stupid football game. If it wasn’t for the fact that Andy and Wesley played the game and took it upon themselves to explain it to me, I would have had no idea how it was played. I wasn’t totally sports ignorant. As you already know, I have an unhealthy obsession with the New York Yankees so my love for baseball ran deep., but that’s where my love of sports ended.

“Mommy we watching the game.” Joey said and his mother took one of her chubby hands and snatched to remote control.

“Watch it in your room. “I Love Lucy” is on.” She said and then gave a warm smile that she spread towards me too. I knew I could like that woman. Especially since she loved my favorite oldies show.

“I love that show.” I replied and that was the second time I had saw her smile.

“Good then its settled. That’s what we are going to watch. Sorry Mijo, but it looks like your going to have to watch your sports downstairs. Joey muttered some bratty reply in Spanish under his breath and sat back on the couch to partake in the Lucille Ball experience. Between commercial breaks she would ask me various questions regarding her son. Joey had explained to me that his mother was a little overprotective, but I was still not fully prepared. She asked me if I had met Amanda yet.

“Yeah, she’s like my best friend. I met Joey through her.” I replied and at the mention of Amanda, her face blossomed.

“Your friends with my little Gorda? She’s such a sweet girl. Joey when are the two of you going to get married?” She asked him and he rolled his eyes. I stifled my laugh. Even if he was straight, somehow I just couldn’t see the two of them together. Joey’s father came in and greeted his wife with a kiss. They seemed to be a loving couple, a little distant to each other, but loving none-the-less. Looking at his father’s handsome face I knew that Joey would age well. Mr. Torres was a little shorter than Joey and had a beer belly, but you could tell that at one time he had been in shape. Joey was the spitting image of his father. Where Joey’s hair was a rich light brown, his fathers was peppered with gray. That, and a few wrinkles were the only thing that distingued the son from the father.

Mr. Torres didn’t really say much other than a hello to me before he rushed back out to go tend to the bodega. Joey told me that his father was always working long hours and expected Joey to take over. Joey didn’t talk about the future much. It was almost like he was unsure of if he had one, but one thing I did know was that he didn’t want to work at the Bodega for the rest of his life. It was getting dark out and I had to leave so Joey walked me to the bus stop. He had kissed me before we left out, but that didn’t stop me from wishing that I could kiss him again. We were outside and the usual staple of people; both the desirables and the undesirables were out and about roaming the street. As the bus was approaching he embraced me with a “bro-hug”. Before I got on, he looked me dead in the face and with cold, plotting eyes said to me words that I would never forget. “ I won’t let them get away with doing that to you.” His accent was prominent and I knew he meant what he had said. I tried to respond, but the rude bus driver told me that if I wanted to talk to my friend to get the hell off his bus. I took a seat in the back and closed my eyes as I rested my head against the window. It was then that I realized that now a whole new set of problems were about to come-to-pass. There was going to be trouble and I had a feel that things were about to go down hill. How wrong I wish I had been………….

To Be Continued....

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