About two years ago when I was going on 12-years-old and I was tricking in Playland on 48th between Broadway and 7th. I was with my cousins, mis primos, Rico, Angel and Carlos. We got up at about 11:30 am with three bags of weed. No different from any summer day at Trickland. I was sitting on a yellow cab, rolling blunts, when a man came to me. I never seen him before. "A new face," I thought to myself.
He spoke little English and asked me if I was hungry. Bingo! We went to Frosty's for cheeseburgers and shakes. His name is Joseemillio; he's from Venezuela, here on business. So he asks me how much and we agree on a price and shit and go to his hotel. Diablo! He takes me into the lobby of the Mariott Marquis. We got upstairs to his suite. Mierda! I was amazed. It was dope. Stupid big. I was living in the Hotel Martinique - what a difference.
Joseemillio is fresh. Thirty-one, dope looks, fresh clothes, stupid paid. Drugs? I don't know; it's not my business. He didn't say anything when I lit a blunt, but he didn't smoke either. After I got stimulated, he put on some music. Shit, wouldn't you know it - Eddie Santiago. "Tu mequemas... "
I was buggin', fucked up and buggin'. Jose starts undressing me. First, he opened my shirt, then started running his hands all on my tits and stomach and licking me. I was so horny that I started ripping off my pants. I was rock boy. But he pulled my hands away, told me "Espera" - wait - shit, I was dying. He started feeling my ass and rubbing my buevos. I was ready to bust any second. He untied my sweat pants and took them off. Of course, I got no underwear. Then he lays me on this huge bed, and I mean huge. Bigger than my room. He slipped his hand under my neck and my knees and carried me into the shower. He joined me where I was, under the water. He started soaping me up. Scrubbing my body, my dick, ass, massaging mi nalgas, my cheeks, and playing with my hole. Shit. Then he got down and, started blowing my ass cause I say "Mama mi culo". I was loving it. He was licking and sucking. Then I say to him, "Jose, mamar mi guevo" and he sucks for about three or four seconds and I busted.
Joseemillio finished washing us and carried me back to his bed. He pulled K.Y. from his bag and started putting it all over his dick and all over my ass. It was no ordinary trick. He was a lover. I put a pillow under my dick to get ready for him. He was not big, average, maybe six inches. I let him screw me and he lasted a long time. He was gentle and loved to deep kiss me while he fucked. He kept saying, "Luis, yo te amo. Luis, es la verdad, yo te amo". He busted all over my backside. It kept squirting hard and hot. I fell asleep as he was toweling me down.
I woke up at 8:30 pm. And I woke up Jose too. "Jose," I say. "Popi, yo tengo hambre," - I'm stupid hungry.
Dinner was dope. We laughed and really got to know each other. I was really falling for him. After dinner, he asked me where I lived. I took him to my house and he met my brothers and sister. My mother was out. He was depressed when he saw me from a welfare hotel.
The next three weeks I was in heaven. He gave me $100. He treated me like I was a son. He listened to my problems, cried with me, laughed with me. I showed him NYC: museums, parks, and my life.
"Joseemillio, I love you," I said, after our third week together. "I love you so much; please never leave me. Promise."
Joseemillio started to cry and held me tight. He said, "Luis, I love you so much my son, but I have to leave soon. I have a family; I have two children."
I begged; I said, "Please, take me with you, please." He said it was impossible, that his wife would never accept me because she is aware of his attraction to boys. I was crying like when my father died. I thought it wouldn't stop.
I lay on top of him as we hugged naked and crying.
"Please Joseemillio I love you, not for sex and money but I love you because you love me." I couldn't sleep. I cried most of the night. After room service brought breakfast I went to take a shower. When I came back, Joseemillio had left. Gone, not a word.
I collapsed on the floor. My life was over. The weight was so heavy I couldn't get up. There was a note with his address in Venezuela and $600 in cash.
I wrote to Joseemillio that day and I got a letter back from him saying his wife knows. She found my pictures - clothed and naked - and she read my letter. He asked that I didn't write and when he comes back to New York he would come to my hotel.
Everyday I thought of Joseemillio. I waited for him to come. Then they closed the hotel and we went to a shelter. How is he gonna find me? I was at Trickland everyday I could. Waiting, dreaming. Then they closed Trickland. I never saw Joseemillio since.
Now you know why I don't like to be in love with people and shit.
July-August 1990