Chulito by Charles Rice-Gonzalez Read Free Book Online Page B

scared, man.” Kamikaze counted out four hundred dollars and handed it to Yolanda. “She ain’t really gonna pop something. You ain’t no chick.”
    “I know,” Chulito lied. He knew that when women had their cherry popped something inside them broke and there was blood involved. He imagined that the head of his dick would pop like a pimple full of blood and burn with searing pain.
    “Listen up. Me and Yolanda are gonna go get busy and I’ll call you when she’s ready for you.” Yolanda rolled her eyes and followed Kamikaze.
    “Ah-ight,” Chulito said as they disappeared behind the bedroom door.
    Chulito looked around Kaz’s living room. Most of the furniture was custom made and even the television and remote where white. Money was no object for Kamikaze. One day he hoped to have a place like this.
    The couch’s imported white Italian leather was soft as suede and Chulito sank deeper into it. They’d sat on those couches for hours watching TV, getting high and had fallen asleep a bunch of times without pulling out the bed. He started to drift off when he heard Yolanda moaning and Kamikaze growling, “Yeah, mama.” His heart was slowly climbing up his throat. Everything felt moist, his brow, his palms, the crack of his ass. He got up and walked slowly toward the door to leave the apartment. As he reached for the doorknob Kamikaze yelled, “Yo, Chulito!”
    His stomach gurgled and he went into the bedroom. The air was thick and he could smell sweat. Kamikaze and Yolanda were in his round white bed under a thin sheet. Yolanda sat up. “Come here, you cute motherfucker. You are so beautiful, Chulito.”
    He moved to the bed as if he were sleepwalking.
    She grabbed his belt, undid it, and his loose pants dropped to his ankles. Chulito felt his dick shrinking into his body.
    Kamikaze said, “Yo, relax Chulito. You look like you gonna shit your pants.”
    The sound of his voice reminded Chulito that Kamikaze was there on the bed, behind Yolanda. Excitement got added to his nervousness.
    Yolanda pulled down his boxer shorts and he felt generations of Catholic shame wash over him.
    Kamikaze appeared at her shoulder, kissed it softly and slowly and didn’t make eye contact with Chulito. As Yolanda stroked Chulito, he watched Kamikaze’s thick rough hand caressing her large smooth hip. Then Kamikaze looked at Chulito, raised his two thick eyebrows and smiled —all teeth framed by thick lips. The warm air of a nearby fan tickled Chulito’s pubic hairs and his dick awakened.
    “Ah, good, he’s finally starting to grow, look,” she said.
    “I don’t want to look at his shit!” Kamikaze buried his face in Yolanda’s hair.
    “C’mon on, papito,” she said coaxinxg Chulito to join them on the bed. “Move back, Kamikaze.”
    Chulito took off his shirt, kicked off his sneakers, stepped out of his pants and boxers and got into the bed beside her.
    She told him to lie on his side and she faced him. With a determined look in her eye, she reached down, grabbed his dick, slipped on a sticky condom and slipped him inside her. He instinctively began moving his hips in and out. It was warm and wet and their genitals made a slick, slippery sound.
    “Very nice, Chulito. Keep moving, papito.” She pulled him closer to her. As Chulito put his arm around Yolanda, his hand brushed Kamikaze’s chest and he quivered.
    Chulito and Yolanda developed a rhythm. His sweat dripped down his face, neck and chest, but it felt as if someone were pouring seltzer water all over his body and the tiny bubbles were bursting and tickling his skin. He held onto Yolanda’s hips. To his surprise he liked almost pulling all the way out of her and then shoving his hips forward into her while pulling her toward him. Each long deliberate stroke brought him higher. He felt as if he would float to the ceiling still attached to her. His head bobbed back and forth and he grunted with each thrust. Kamikaze watched. “Look at chu, Chulito. You