Before seeing Daniel at Rich's funeral I would've confidently stated my first sexual experience was getting head from Jessica Sophomore year in HS. But the second I saw him, it was like walking through a door I'd passed so often I forgot it ever existed. The last time I saw him I was 13 yrs old and we were in Baja with my grandfather and Daniel's mom. Rich had met her a few years earlier in Vegas. She was either a showgirl or a prostitute or maybe both (PC or not I've always lived life don't ask don't tell)... Either way Rich ended up seeing her for almost 8 years and even had a kid with her that my mom ended up raising. But this isn't about my 22 yr old aunt. It's about her big brother...
At this point I'd known Daniel for almost 6 years. He was this slightly older super kind, not-so-smart, very handsome goofball (think Keanu Reeves but half Native American instead of half Asian) that loved getting into trouble with me. Daniel and I would ride dirt bikes in the oil fields while my grandfather would pretend to know what the roughnecks were talking about. Then we'd strip down to our underwear for the car ride because our clothes would be peppered with crude oil and Rich didn't want us to ruin his upholstery. There's this pretentious restaurant/club atrocity in Signal Hill called the Petroleum Club (you wouldn't know it existed unless you were a member and in order to be a member I think you need to own an oil company) where we kept new clothes. We'd always stop there for steaks and then Rich would disappear for hours and I think we'd go swimming and have italian sodas by the pool.
WOW sorry I just fell down a rabbit hole of crazy memories more than a quarter century old and went on a little tangent there... Almost all those millionaire oil kids I grew up with are bankrupted lost causes these days. With life, you never know how it's going to unfold...
Anyway, Daniel and I were friendly and I was super glad to see him on this trip because verbal sparring with my snobby cousins always left me feeling lonely. It started the first night we got there. I was laying in bed scratching my nuts when he ripped the blanket off of me and was crestfallen to see I wasn't jerking off. Then he asked me if I wanted to jerk off with him and me being a horny closeted boy at the mercy of my dick, OF COURSE I SAID YES! And that's when things got weird.
I pulled my dick out and started only to realize he was only watching me and not joining in. At first I felt extremely self-conscious but the way he was watching me... GOD DAMN it made me sooo fucking horny! After a couple minutes he asked of he could touch me. My first instinct was to say no, but then I said yes and his hands were all over me. By the end of the week he was sucking my dick every time we were alone. I can't remember ever touching him, and I only ever saw his penis a few times. I think he was embarrassed about his size, but this was definitely the origin story of my small dick fetish.
We never really talked about what we were doing or what it meant, it was purely about my orgasms and how many I could have in a day. Rich found out his girlfriend was pregnant during this trip and he broke up with her and I never saw Daniel again. Once his daughter was born and the DNA test confirmed it, Rich bought her a house in Vegas. 4 years later she died of an overdose, and Rich's daughter moved in with my mother. This was the 90's and there was no such thing as social media, and he didn't even own a computer so we never saw each other again.
Fast forward a couple decades and a few more years and he's standing in front of me with his wife and 2 sons looking just as handsome as he did the day I met him. I wanted to knock down the plexiglass partition to give him a giant hug. I wanted take him to the dried up oil fields to ride dirt bikes. I wanted to show him how much I've improved as a lover. I wanted to laugh and I wanted to cry, I wanted to bask in all of my forgotten memories and I wanted them all to stop and go back into the vault they were locked in for all these years.
Instead I just smiled and I shed a couple of involuntary tears because in that moment I genuinely missed my grandfather. That time in my life was the last time I could ever delude myself into thinking Rich was a good person. The way he threw people away like they didn't even matter was never more obvious than in the way he treated this family he'd created and nurtured. I wonder if it was as painful for Daniel to look at me as it was for me to look at him.
3 comments:
This is a terrible ending. Did you talk to Daniel after the services ended? Is there a part 2 to this post?
I grew up in Signal Hill in the early 2000's and I would ride my bike passed the patroleon club all time. I thought it was a well kept abandoned building. The place had no windows and there were never any cars there and I never saw anybody walking into this building. wild!
I'm from Rossmoor in the 80's ad 90's the entire community worked for all the various oil companies in Long Beach. Company pensions have been an issue for the retired community because the majority of these companies went bankrupt and defaulted on their accounts. It's nice to imagine the people at the top suffering just as much.
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