By Dan O’Neill
His name was Diego.He was
twenty two, had a medium build and hairless..He
was dark skinned.He said he was from
Torreon,Mexico,the same place Ricardo
Montalban was from.He seemed very
proud of this.I told him he was muy guapo and
could be a star like Montalban.I didn’t really
believe it.He was very handsome,but so
we’re thousands of others.It’s just what I
told Guys I wanted to
fuck.And ,surprisingly ,it. worked a lot.Of
course, it helped that I had done a couple of
big movies and been nominated for a
supporting actor for an Academy
Award for “One Hour Service”, If you haven’t seen it I played a demented owner of a dry cleaning store that tried on his customers clothes and assumed their identities with each wardrobe switch.It was a whacko tour de force I thought a lot of it didn’t make any sense..But, it was what audiences and critics wanted.Forget nuance and subtlety.Today people got off on getting it shoved in their fucking face;crotch kicking cartoons.The range of “serious”acting in most films and tv shows today usually runs from sociopath to psychotic.I might have been able
to get him some kind of acting job,at least
as an extra.
Diego was a busboy at a small
restaurant near my house in Brentwood.It was a dark hangout,
the perfect place for an someone
totally Irish like me to brood.And,thank
God, the people there for the most part
didn’t bother me.Diego approached my
table one night and asked if he could take a
selfie with me.The owner was Tony, an actor. I had worked with on a dumb Satanic movie about a coven that masqueraded as a book club at the local library.It was the usual convoluted bullshit that these devil movies deal in.Tony played the secretary of the club,who had a passion for Henry James.I played one of his henchman who abducted homeless people for various demons looking for bodies to possess.I didn’t understand how supposedly intelligent people who sneer at religious movies as pablum for pussie treat Satanic shit like this as if it’s a historical epic.Really,if God doesn’t exist then Lucifer and his minions don’t either.They’re both concepts created by people with too much time on their hands.At first Tony tried to stop him from bothering me,but when I signaled it was ok,he allowed our relationship to start.
I liked Diego right from the start,because he called me Mr.O’Brien.I appreciated the proper respect .I said he could call me Mike,because he obviously knew his place.Diego had married his highschool sweetheart and had a two year old son named Alex.His nickname was Zorro,because he was such a fast runner on his high school track team.Even though I thought he was hot as hell and wanted to fuck him right there on the table.I decided to approach him as a friend.I was trying to torture a better class of Latinos.I wanted to move beyond busboys janitors and valet parkers..I practiced English with him at the restaurant and he taught me Spanish. He said there wasn’t much English spoken in the kitchen or his home. When Spanish words and phrases began creeping into my daily conversation,friends and associates said “what’s happening Mikey are you turning Mexican?What are you going to play in your next movie a member of a drug cartel or a soccer player ?”I bought Diego some . language tapes and invited him to my home to practice English.Because he was here in the US now and he had to learn to speak the language.Not to learn the language to live in your own private world was destructive and I wouldn’t tolerate it.I also loved to taste his fantastic quesadillas ,that he was a master at making.If a dude can fuck and cook.He’s really special in my book.
I could tell Diego was a really nice guy when I told me some Latino guys had called me a puto and asked him what it meant.I knew it meant fag and was usually accompanied by some nasty suggestion that I was a berserk gabacho spreading Sida and other diseases to the Latino community. When someone called me a puto now.I’d say “That’s senor puto to you .I’d let them know I was Maricon chingon. thanks
I even gave Diego one of my prized possessions for Alex,a Gucci, brown teddy bear my mother had given me as a child.Diego said the bear reminded him of me,since I was so hairy and muscular.He said I was an Osito as we worked out in the gym at my house.I said I liked his hairless body and brown eyes.He said he liked my blue eyes
I asked”Only the eyes?and he said.”No todos.”
I looked into his eyes which we’re very watery and said “Me too” and I swear he looked down and blushed.
But,something in me held back. My best friend Carl said “you haven’t fucked that busboy yet.Shit, you’re losing your touch bro.Are you falling in love with this guy ,with his wife and his kid.?Fuck,man get a grip.Bang him and move on.”
I was scared he was right.I had gone into therapy a few months back and had traced my Latino fetish back to a high school crush on Guillermo ,the star striker of the high school soccer team.I had seen him in the locker room after PE and thought he was luscious.A thick, mouth watering cock and a bubble butt,you could eat breakfast off,with tan lines that drove me crazy.He must have worn speedos to the beach.He was the guy I jerked off to almost every day.I Learned on Facebook that he died in a car crash a year after high school.It
was sad,but in a way just right.Guillermo was in his prime.I wouldn’t have wanted to see him grow old and grey with wrinkles and kids..So,when I was fucking other guys I thought of him.Even with my best friend at that time,Mario, who was a virgin when I screwed him.After we had done it a few times.,he had religious qualms. about the sin we we committing. Mario ,the mope, wanted to be a Jesuit priest and he felt he was going to hell.I think he loved it too much So he no longer could look me in the eye and said what we did was bad and crazy. Saint Mario tells the local priest,his parents,the school authorities that I was a bad influence,who had seduced and corrupted him. I’m not sure if Mario,ever became a priest,but if he did it was the perfect place for him.:a church full of denial and hypocrisy covering up monstrous acts. I was ordered to stay away from him.My father was deeply ashamed as usual and said I was a sick puppy,who needed intensive treatment.He said he wished I was never born.At twelve, he had said to my mother”My God what have we created!” And ,now ,he wished he didn’t do any fucking creating at all.God,how I hate that man.Years After he blew his head off,I still don’t feel bad about it.He was so full of hate. l didn’t want to end up an emotional loser like him
I decided to just be a friend /mentor to Diego.I got him jobs as an extra,bought him new clothes,including a new suit that he could actually wear to something upscale,got him a decent haircut,gave him gift certificates at chain restaurants so I he could dine out with the family.Supposedly,Alex loved hamburgers with guacamole.I was going to be unselfish with this one and not just take what I wanted.
One night Diego phones me after midnight and asks if he can come over.I say ok,even though I have to get up early in the morning for work.When Diego arrived .I could tell he had been drinking.We usually drank wine together,but he had been downing cervezas.He told me that his father in law was very sick and he was going to have to go back to Mexico with his wife and son for awhile,but that he would probably return alone.He said he would miss me and I said I would miss him too.Then he dropped his usual poker face and said “Mike you really like me ,serious?I nodded yes
Then he said I like you too much I think about you when I’m with wife.I dream about you every night.”
I was so shocked I didn’t know what to say.I just smiled.Then he said “What you like to do in the cama?
I told him I liked sucking for starters.He said he liked getting a blow job,
but his wife wasn’t into it.He said he had never done chupando with a hombre,but he was curious.Then he kissed me,with the sweetest lips I had ever tasted and said “Te amo Mike”
I replied “Yo tambien Diego”..
That night was the bestsex I had ever had.I liked how he wanted to give me pleasure.He told me he wanted to make me happy and kept asking how he could do this.He was incredibly flexible .Following my instructions ,I loved it when he started sucking my toes and licked my feet and worked his way up my legs.He had a beautiful virgin culo that he told me was mine forever.It was so hot it made me sweat more than I ever had.Diego,was very passionate and vocal.When he cried out*Ay Papacito metemelo” I was sure the whole neighborhood could hear and I didn’t care.I was crazy for him.At that moment I would have done anything he asked.Luckily he didn’t have access to my credit cards or bank accounts.
We spent the next few days together mostly in bed,watching movies.(I tried to give him a crash course on my favorite films,including The Sight and Sound top 20,)and feeding each other.I introduced him to Thai and Greek cuisines.I was so content and happy,without any cocaine or meth.
Finally,one night,he told me he was leaving the next morning.We both cried when we had sex.
“I don’t want you to leave,I said.
“Don’t Worry Mike,he said,I Come back.Can I live here when I do.?We can be team.Maybe we can act together like buddies”
I said of course and at that moment I meant it.I would have married him and left everything I had to him in a will.I was delirious.
For awhile ,after he went to Mexico,we talked on the phone and texted almost every day.He wrote long love poems in Spanish.
Carl was the only one I told about what had happened and he thought it was good that Diego was in Mexico as it would give me time to recover my sanity.I laughed at first when he said this.But ,as time went on,I realized what a foolish ,fucking dream the whole thing was.I stopped communicating with Diego.He told me that Alex went to sleep with his teddy bear every night and he missed being in bed with me ,his big osito.
He said in his last voicemail”Hey,Mr.Mike you forget about zorro ?Te quiero mucho siempre.I ready to come home”.
But,we never saw each other anymore.It was for the best. I did the right thing in ghosting him.He had to think of his wife and son.If he had left them he would have had a lot of guilt,which he might have taken out on me.I had to think about my career.It never would have worked.