New Man at the Village Café

Me, trembling. I'd just noticed you watching me at the café in the square. I was sitting where the young men displayed themselves for the tourists, but I was new to this. More curious than anything else. Sure I could handle one of those paunchy, cigar-chewing, middle-aged American tourists—just a surreptitious suck—usually him sucking me—in the alley nearby and a quick 20 pesos and then maybe an East European. But I was told to look out for those. They'd pay for a suck—almost always them—but the

new man the village café

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