This will be an ongoing short story series of TRUE STORIES about my life on the streets. I will post them as I get them written. The first of which (this one) contains non-consensual male on male sex. If that bothers you, DO NOT READ.
For those who wanted to know what happened to Houston (because you felt sorry for him), [RE: BOYS AVENUE], I've given it some thought and worked out his love story and am slowly writing that in between the Street stories.
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"Are you hungry?" the handsome Latino man who introduced himself as Teardrop asked me, rising from the concrete bench, where he found me, under Travis Park's memorial for the Confederate dead, "Come on, I'll take you to La Villita. It's just peanut butter sandwiches, but it's food. I just need to make a quick pit stop first."
I was homeless, doing a bad job of surviving on the streets of San Antonio, Texas for the past two weeks. I was broke, beyond exhausted from no more than a few bouts of sleep on park benches before the Park Rangers would wake me and tell me I couldn't sleep there. Furthermore, I was physically weak from lack of food. I hadn't had anything to eat since my first day in town.
I saw Teardrop a few days earlier in that same park, and again at a bus stop in front of the main branch of the Public Library, where I spent most of my time trying not to fall asleep, occasionally failing. He waved to me both times, trying to get my attention, but my embarrassment over my situation overwhelmed me, and I stupidly ignored him. When he saw me again, trying to warm the Autumn night's chill from my bones in the morning sun, he approached me and introduced himself.
I rose and followed him out of the park and followed him, my mouth watering with the thought of food, my stomach cramping from the lack of it.
He was about an inch or two taller than my five-foot-nine inches, and had a sturdier, stronger build. He was wearing faded blue jeans that bulged suggestively in all the right places with a white tee under a dark denim shirt. Having lost some weight, and not wearing a belt, I was doing good to keep my pants pulled up. His black hair was slicked back, away from his big dark brown eyes. There was a tear drop tattooed beneath his left eye.
We descended to the Riverwalk, down a flight of concrete stairs, and made our way south, into a less frequented section of the Riverwalk I didn't realize existed. We crossed the river at the dam, then continued until we came to a bridge. On one side of the bridge was a staircase that led back up to the street level that was lined with a bed of densely growing of shrubs, flowers and other plants.
"I stashed something under the stairs," he explained, "Come inside with me, so you don't attract any unwanted attention."
I watched as Teardrop disappeared into a narrow opening in the shrubs, between a pillar that supported the stairs and the tall wall of the bridge's foundation. I followed him in, emerging into a dark cave like area that slanted sharply downward with the fall of the stairs above.
Once inside the little artificial cave, Teardrop attacked me, pushing me face first into the bare dirt. At first, I didn't understand what was happening. I was so tired, I couldn't have put up much of a fight. Teardrop was bigger and stronger than I was, even before I was starved. It was when I felt my pants being tugged down that I realized what was happening.
I was twenty-two years old and had only had sex once. Out of pure frustration, I gave my virginity to a forty-five-year-old man I met at a flea market, two years prior. He sold me a sarape, and I gave him my phone number. The night he came over was a dismal disaster. He had about four inches of dick, with which he repeatedly pulled out and rammed back into my virgin ass over and over again. It was such a painful, unpleasant experience that I wondered if I would ever try getting fucked again. Now I was going to be fucked by a virtual stranger.
Teardrop held my face to the cold, bare earth with a hand braced against my neck. Fear shook through me, but there was nothing I could do to change my situation. I felt him move above me, releasing his hold on me to line up his cock.
I heard him spit, then felt his fingers wet my ass hole. I felt him shift his weight, lining his cock up with my sphincter. With one thrust, he pushed into me, sending a shockwave of ripping pain through my lower abdomen. I cried out but didn't recognize the sound that came out of me. Teardrop wrapped his hand around my mouth to silence me, shifting his body forward. The entirety of his weight now pinning me down.
"Be quiet!" he whispered menacingly into my ear as he began thrusting his cock in and out of the deep recesses of my ass. I closed my eyes and tried to relax, giving myself up to his manipulation to try to relieve the pain. There was no point in fighting him anymore. He was inside me, and he was going to have his way. I lay there, my ass throbbing with his every thrust.
