International Correspondence

by Diego


I have this stalker on Adam4Adam who doesn't even live in New York City. And I have a rule: if you are not currently within a 5-mile radius from me, do NOT message me. I don't care if you are looking to get a job in the city, if you are visiting for 3 days in June of 2009, if you live in Connecticut but "make it to the city a lot" or if you are willing to get me a ticket to come visit you in Birmingham. It is not gonna happen. Message me when you overcome all these geographical obstacles and are presently in Manhattan. Otherwise, you get fucking blocked.

But this one stalker managed to win me over somehow. He lives in Puerto Rico, wherever that is. I kind of used to think Puerto Rico wasn't really a country, just a gay fetish. Like Daddy or Bear. But it turns out it is an actual place people live (they even have Costco and Sam's Club down there. And, like, the Internet, obviously).

So Puerto Rican dude starts out by calling me a "fucking white bitch", which will totally get my attention. He then goes on to say he wants to marry my boypussy and protect me and have babies with me. Which is right up my fucked-up alley of hetero-morphic perversions. What better way to convince yourself your top is basically a straight guy than mocking straight people's formulaic living?

His name is Jose, of course, and he called me the other night at two in the morning. We immediately clicked and were on the phone for over two hours. He kept on saying he wanted me to always wear panties and cook for him, take care of his clothes and never have a job. He wanted to be the provider, "even if I have to take 3 jobs, baby, I'll take care of my wife". Okay...I never even met you, dude, but sounds good to me.

I know for a fact he was jerking off as he spoke to me on the phone, which is fine because I was too. He alternated calling me "Sweet baby" and "Slutty faggot", which is ideal. He said he wanted to make a promise to God to be with me forever, and then he would rape my faggoty ass, but afterwards he would cuddle and feel bad for having manhandled his baby so roughly.

And it seems rather intriguing that we would be in completely different places, from completely different backgrounds, yet his fantasy fit mine so flawlessly. That kind of restored my faith in finding a guy who is actually a real top -- not a bottom desperately trying to convince himself he really doesn't hate his phallus.

Jose said he would call me the next day, at noon to see if "my baby is alright", and at 8 p.m. to say good-night. He never called, but by then he had already done his job, having rendered this hopeless New York City fag a little less jaded.

For more Diego, click here.