Okay, I Don’t Know How To Spell Vato or Chola — I’m White!

Widow Centauri — White Girl!

Easter night I went to the Faultline at something like 3 in the afternoon. I started out by drinking beer but when you have a seven foot tall transsexual dressed in a bright yellow dress with you in a club packed with hard bodies gay men you rapidly move to hard liquor. Gin and tonic, shots of ‘what the fuck is this” and then my very good friend Marcus popped up behind me. He is one of the only decent people in this town (he is from Texas) but I had lost track of him when I lost my phone so I was really happy to see him.

In NYC you eventually bump into everyone but here in LA you have to work at finding just the right people to keep bumping into, otherwise you have to constantly doge shit. I’m not saying they are monkeys, yo.

Anyway after I bumped into Marcus and groped him and his very sexy buff friend from Florida, in a way that was obviously uncomfortable for them, Lorelei and I wandered off. We ate some fruit from a stand and go invited up to a roof top barbeque. We were minding out own business, walking down the street, well staggering really, and a couple of Mexican boys asked us if we wanted to come up to the party on the roof. We looked up all the way to the top of a two-story building and there were a lot of people up there. We said “sure.”

Once we were up there we realized that we were the only people like us. This is the border of east LA – not south east LA but we were still the only white people. I grew up with the vatos so I know their game, I also know how misogynistic the culture is. Sure we’ll have a beer, and a shot, and shit ya We’ll have a margarita. The roof top party was extremely unexpected.

When one of the girls started to eye me in that way that warned my seventh grade receptors that a fight would procure if wee didn’t split I grabbed Lorelei, threw back another shot of tequila, and kissed her.

I grabbed her by the hair, pulled her head back, shoved my tongue down her throat and kissed her like I was Carry Grant (I’m so butch). People clapped, whooped cheered and when I came up for air the chola was gone, whoo — fight avoided, girlfriend pleased.

The boys seemed to expect that we would keep up the show so I grabbed Lorelei and headed back to the Faultline. I knew that this roof top party was no place to make out with my tranny – a bar with a black guy sure but this was not the place I wanted to die, get arrested, or have to fight a gang of girls who know how to use liquid eyeliner (something I can not yet do).

We headed back to the Faultline. When we got there we thought we would find Marcus, have a drink and chill. We were wrong. There were so many men in that parking lot there was no way to find my cute, bald, queer friend so we made friends with a couple of boys who has seen us earlier. I had been watching them make out. They just met. The one I was trolling was black, buff, and half naked with his camo shorts down just below his ass crack. He hooked up with a buff white guy who I wasn’t that into but since it was my voyeuristic time I watched the black guy stick his pretty pink tongue into the white guys mouth. Hot ,hot — pussy dripping hot.

Once we were back at the bar …. we are all in the bathroom. The white one is fucking the black one in the ass. We’re just watching them. I get out some lube and bend Lorelei over, pull her bright yellow panty hose down, and slide out the dick I have been packing all day. “Fuck it’ I think “we might as well have a mini orgy” the black boy sees the lube I’m pouring onto Lorelei’s hole and reaches for it. It’s a little vile of Eros. The ‘to go’ kind. He sticks it under his nose like it’s a popper and tries to sniff it. I bust out laughing. Truly laughing out loud! No one else seems to have noticed that he thought the lube was drugs. I fucked my girl and made her come. I took my dick out and shoved it in the black boys mouth. He sucked it clean. I put it in my pants and we left them there, fucking.

Booty Gonzales!

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