
I had never seen a morning quite as surreal as this one.
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By Richard de Orizaba
Yellow morning – yes it was yellow. As I stepped out on the deck I looked all around and there was an eerie weirdness to this particular morning. The sky was yellow but charged with ominous clouds, the light reflected on the lake made it look like gold. If there was any other color in the light spectrum it was gobbled up today by yellow. In all my 24 years on this earth I had never seen a day quite like this back in Eagle Pass and let me tell you we get our share of weather phenomena.
Delusional me, I rented a cabin by the lake for three weeks in order to finish what I thought would be a bestselling novel…yeah, I thought I was going to write the great American novel. After graduating with a degree in Journalism from a very prestigious Ivy League school I thought I was the shit.
I got my inspiration after reading One Hundred Years of Solitude (Cien años de soledad, 1967), by Gabriel García Márquez, which is a novel that tells the multi-generational story of the Buendía Family, whose patriarch, José Arcadio Buendía, founded the town of Macondo, the metaphoric Colombia. The non-linear story is narrated via different time frames, a technique derived from the Argentine writer Jorge Luis Borges (as in The Garden of Forking Paths).
I thought I had enough material to go on; basing my story on the Orizaba family and all the travails from their link to the Mexican Emperor to the present day in South Texas. I thought all the stories my grandmother told me were exquisite and interesting, certainly she was like a living encyclopedia and just a few months before she died I used to go down to the farm and spend endless hours listening to her “cuentos” and real life accounts.
I wrote diligently for the first week and then it hit me: writer’s block. It was the second day of a dry writing spell when I woke to this extraordinary morning. Certainly it was a presage of weirder things to come.
I made coffee and sat at my typewriter (computers were still a decade away) and began my tortuous attempt…I was castigating the keys with the vengeance of a frustrated writer. The coffee was done and I got a cup and took it out to the deck to admire what continued to be a bizarre natural event.
I thought to myself: I forgot to look in the front…the wife of the owner always sends over a basket full of goodies…fresh baked bread some peaches or other fruits from their orchard and always eggs. I don’t really eat eggs all that much but I felt kind of guilty not eating them so I did. But that morning there was nothing. What was I thinking? It was Sunday and surely they had gone to church; and judging by her speech interjected with “bless the holy name of the Lord” and that entire lingo that is prevalent in very staunch Evangelical…surely they would be in church this morning.
I never knew who brought the basket over because I was always sleeping but this yellow morning as the skies turned from yellow to dark ochre I saw him approaching when I looked out the window. From a distance…and the owner’s house is at least a block away from all the other cottages, the guy looked interesting…certainly early twenties and as he got closer I began to realize this was one first class stud.
I didn’t want for him to leave the basket at my doorstep…I wanted to see him close and to greet him and thank him and his mom for all the delicious stuff; so I timed it in such a way that I opened the door about the time he was to place the basket on the floor.
“Howdy, it is a very strange morning, isn’t it? He said
Me: “Hi, it sure is…I have never seen a yellow morning”
Chad: “Oh, that is an indication that we are going to have very heavy storms this afternoon…by the way, my name is Chad…I am the son of the camp’s owner.
Me: “Glad to meet you Chad…I’m Richard…would you like to come in for some coffee?”
Chad: “Ahr.eh, well, I...it is...well, ah…see we don’t drink coffee…our religion forbids it”
Me: “Oh, I see…well, come on in any way and chat while I have mine” (I thought to myself what religion frowns on coffee and I determined that they must be Mormons. That kind of took the wind off my sails because they are also very prudish and certainly homophobic.
But Chad was not only handsome, he was delightful and as he talked, with a very deep and masculine voice I was totally smitten. He was telling me about his two year stint as a missionary in Paraguay and when he realized that I was Hispanic the conversation turned to Spanish…his Spanish was impeccable…not even a trace of an accent; they sure teach those boys languages well over at Brigham Young U.
Inevitably, whenever you meet a Mormon he will try to convert you. So the conversation took a turn that was unpleasant for me. I didn’t want to be insulting since I had two more weeks all paid in advance but I could not be “converted” either. So, I looked at him straight in the eyes and said: “Look, this you may find shocking and I am sure that you and your family would disapprove of it…you see Chad, I am a homosexual”
I could see the color abandon his face; this was something he didn’t bargain for and he recuperated enough to tell me “but you can be cured…Jesus loves you and he can make anything possible”
Me: “Cure me? Do I have some kind of disease? No my dear Chad, it is you who has to be cured of your homophobia…surely brought about by the religious teachings of your church…and those are based on erroneous interpretations of the scriptures.”
Chad: “Why do you say that? What do you mean by erroneous?”
Me: “Simply this: people are born gay, like you are born left handed or blond. It is with you at the time of your birth and will be with you until you die”
Chad: “Oh, no, that is not right…it is all conditioning and perhaps you had an abusive father…or...”
I interrupted and said: “Wrong on both accounts…tell me Chad, when did you decide you were straight?”
He pondered and struggled to give me a reasonable answer. He could not. As with anyone under siege, the most logical move is to retreat; so Chad said: “look, we have to continue this conversation later or another day…I have a lot of chores”
Me: “Of course, I am going to be right here for a couple of more weeks and you are welcome to come and shoot the breeze but I warn you, I am just as rigid in my convictions as you are on yours and this evangelizing crap will not work on me”
Chad: “I understand, but there is always hope…See you around” And he left in a huff. Surely upon arriving at his home he will tell his parents that a faggot is renting one of the cottages and they would ask me to leave…these Mormons are very narrow minded..I thought.
So I returned to my typewriter with a little more enthusiasm because Chad had awakened my lust and I write a lot better when I am horny. After four grueling hours and crumpling up endless amounts of paper I decided to call it a day. I could hear the rumbling of thunder and it was getting closer. I went out to the deck and there I saw the second spectacle of the day…it was a menacing sky with clouds so black they were green…they had a green hue to them, I swear.
About this time I hear a knock at the door and it was Chad. “It seems that my mom fancies you…she was very insistent on sending you this before the storm hits…it is a fresh baked loaf of bread and in this jar is beef stew”
Chad wasn’t finished with the sentence when we began to hear the peculiar noise of hail…it was hailing and it was heavy…as it hit the roof it would make a crackling noise and then it began to rain. I mean, not just rain, this was a deluge. Lightning accompanied the hail and Chad realized he could not venture back home lest he be hit on the head by the pellets which were now almost the size of golf balls. Sure enough, one of them hit my windshield and it cracked. I was kind of pissed about that and I turned to Chad and said: “We get a lot of these kinds of storms back in Eagle Pass but they don’t last long.”
I don’t think that Chad was comfortable sitting there with me and not being able to leave unless he subjected himself to the mercy of the elements. But I think that Chad had a built in curiosity and he asked me a very personal question: “When you make love to another man, what is it like? I mean, do you have intercourse?”
Me: “My dear Chad, you never answered the question I asked: when did you decide you were heterosexual?”
Chad: “I thought about that and I think that you are right in that respect…you are born with certain tendencies but it is up to the individual to not surrender to lust and sin”
Me: “So you think love is sin?”
Chad: “Ah, eeh, I mean, it is very clear in Leviticus”
Me: “And everything that is written in the Bible has to be taken literally? How about stoning to death your neighbor…the fireman who works on the Sabbath? Or better put, do you think that Jesus loved or hated homosexuals…because I too have read the Scriptures and Jesus didn’t uttered one single pronouncement or even a word against it.:
That is when Chad came clean and confessed to me that he thought he was attracted to other males and has never been able to even have a relationship with a woman…because he doesn’t get sexually aroused by females.
Oh, boy, I hit the mother lode here…So I asked him: “Do you think that I am attractive? I mean, are you attracted to me?
Chad: “Yes, and yes, you are a very handsome man Richard.”
As he said that I could sense a certain awkwardness and his face reddened, flushed with shame; but there was another revealing clue…I could see that Chad was getting an erection…there it was growing beneath the pants, his crotch was bulging and full…something told me that there was a monster pleading to get out. So when I saw that I too began to get a hard-on. This did not go unnoticed by Chad who commented: “You are getting aroused, aren’t you?”
Me: “Sure, Chad…I mean, you are one drop-dead gorgeous guy and a total virgin” That is when I put my hand on his thigh and he didn’t recoil…he did just the opposite, Chad opened his legs a little more and tilted his head back. He was allowing me access to his goodies!
Me: “Are you sure you want to do this?” I wouldn’t want for you to feel uncomfortable or doing something you don’t want to do.”
Chad didn’t answer, instead he began to take off his clothes. The shirt came off and it revealed a very nice body. Then the pants…you know what? Chad had on yellow underwear! But there was one inconsistency: Chad had a tat in his right arm, which goes totally against Mormon beliefs and it was an indication that Chad had a rebellious streak in him.
I sat closer and we kissed. It was a long kiss and to me it seemed like Chad was unleashing all this sexual repression he had pent up all these years…I also thought that that kind of sexual denial was very unhealthy and he then looked at me as he actually grabbed my cock and said: “Do you want to penetrate my ass with that big penis?”
A virgin bottom…I hit the jackpot! So I continued to worship his body and to lick him all over. When I got to his nipples Chad was just wiggling and moaning with pleasure…I finally got to his cock and got it in my mouth...but before I could do anything else Chad’s legs were going up in the air as if offering his ass to me.
Naturally, I began to rim the guy and this just drove him absolutely
insane and he then begged me to fuck him…”Please, fuck me, yeah, I want you, I want to get fucked by that huge cock…it is enormous…will it hurt?
Me: “only if you don’t relax…there will be some discomfort at first but you will begin to feel pleasure…extraordinary pleasure like you never felt before” And as I said that the head of my cock penetrated his bum hole. Chad gasped but took it like a man.
Chad: “Oh Richard, that feels so good…I had no idea…Oh, man, oh, oh, I think I’m having an orgasm...ah, ah, “
But before he shot his load I bent over and got his cock in my mouth just about the time the spooge started to flow. I have sucked off many guys in my lifetime but I never had anybody cum
so copiously as Chad; it was all I could do to swallow and it kept on flowing. Naturally this sent me over the edge as well and I shot my load inside his ass.
We both fell on the floor totally spent…the intensity of the love-making dictated such and as we laid there we heard a rumbling noise…it started to get louder and the winds picked up…the little cottage was being battered and Chad said: “Richard, I think it is a tornado” So he pulled the area rug to the side of the living room and there was a trap door that gave access to a crawl space…you couldn’t even sit but as we got in there we could hear the sounds of breaking glass and the whole house shaking.
It was about this time that Chad began to cry inconsolably…Oh, dear Lord, forgive me, I have committed the most severe of all sins…I have laid with another man and now you are sending this storm to punish me…Oh, Lord”

Tears were running down his cheeks and that is when I slapped him. I said: “Come to your senses Chad…the storm has nothing to do with us making love…storms happen all the time and two men making love certainly happens a million times more often than storms…if God was to punish all those who have sex we would not ever have any nice weather?
That is when Chad stopped, in the penumbra of the little crawl space I could see a smile and it soon turned into hysterical laughter…Chad realized how stupid that whole idea of sin was at that very moment. Chad was liberated and no longer a virgin!
During my stay Chad would sneak into my cottage every night and then leave. We would make love with Chad reaching multiple orgasms. I am not sure what will happen to Chad now that he has tried sex. I am not even mentioning the name of the lake where the cottage is located because if Chad hasn’t come out I don’t want to compromise him or hurt him…That lake only has that set of rental cottages and it would be easy to figure out who Chad is and that he is gay.
Upon my return to Houston I had a letter requesting I fly to New York for a job interview with the magazine that eventually hired me and had me employed until my father’s death when I had to take over the family business.






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