by Devon Devine
p.s. — the guy on the next 2 pages is someone I met online. He’s from San Francisco, gay, and likes big guys. I think he is so fucking hot and has the biggest dick…
That is what I wrote in my journal the summer of 1992. Let’s go back in time to Lisa Frank, Trapper Keepers, z cavaricci’s and me at 14 years old, about to start high school — and probably the fattest horniest brownest teenager in my white ass suburb of Chicago. Or at least that’s what it felt like. This was a stark dichotomy with my outward persona which walked around with a looney tunes journal and was obsessed with going to the mall so I could spend my allowance at the Disney Store and Sbarros pizza. But deep inside me was the angsty coming of age personality of a young man craving something… but still not sure what. Now I know that was dick.
Probably one of the first moments I was clued into understanding my sexuality was a year earlier, age 13, when I watched the music video for Under the Bridge by Red Hot Chili Peppers. Seeing Anthony Kedis run in slow motion over super imposed clouds with his long hair blowing in the wind and his tits bouncing up and down — I became obsessed. By the next summer my Little Mermaid poster had been replaced with one of those life size rock n roll posters from Spencer’s Gifts – with the Red Hot Chili Peppers wearing nothing but socks on their… dicks. Even THEN I was unaware that purchasing this poster solidified how fucking gay I was, I just thought I liked them. Like Aladdin and Mickey Mouse. I was a fanboy. Nothing weird or different about me. But that was also the same summer my best friend S.B. would come over for sleepovers and we’d watch Cinemax after dark scrambled on the TV in my parent’s basement… not scrambled enough that you couldn’t see what was happening. One night while watching a guy get a blowie thru the jaggedy neon lines on the television, I heard S.B. ask, I wonder what that feels like. He didn’t even finished the sentence before I answered with, I dunnoo, wanna
try? and with that I fully entered my first out of body experience. It was like my raw queer inner fatboy told my innocent and confused fatboy self — move over, I got this. I heard the words come out, I knew I had asked the question, and now I waited for my world to come crashing down on me. Did S.B. get a hard on when he watched Red Hot Chili Peppers too? Did other boys have the same feelings I did? As fast as I asked the question S.B. answered, sure. And without skipping a beat I said, ok, take it out — I’ll go first.
According to Facebook he’s married now with kids, but I did keep our blowie trading a secret for a good three years — right up until the moment he was crowned Turnabout King and I turned to my Goth bisexual best friend and said — I sucked his dick.
The power of a good chisme reveal is a natural skill I retain to this day.
The thing is — I couldn’t be gay. I was fat. My favorite movie at the time was My Own Private Idaho — and as much as I loved it I knew River Phoenix would never date ME. I was no Keanu Reeves. And Rickie — from my so called life — he thought he had it real hard with Angela, Rayanne, Jordan and the gang and I always thought — try being FAT Rickie, and then come talk to me. And if I was GAY, what would I do when I grew up? Was I going to be one of Madonna’s back up dancers? Well none of them are fat! I had no role models that looked like me, sounded like me, had first generation parents who ate weird food like me. And even worse — cuz I got a taste of it from S.B. which made me want it more — who would have SEX with me?
At age 14 I had already come to the conclusion that I would live and die with only given and received one blowjob for the rest of my life.
And then — everything changed. I discovered America Online — AOL — and their chatrooms. My best friend Mackenzi’s family were the first ones on the block to get AOL — and everyone in their family got their own screenname and password. Their house was basically my second home because Mackenzi’s mom let me drink as much powdered strawberry quick and eat as many Oreos as I wanted and as their honorary brown neighbor son I was given my own account, too. I borrowed the installation CD, brought it to my parent’s house, and installed it on our home computer. I waited as it dialed a phone number with digital beeps bursting off the computer speakers accompanied by the sound of what seemed like eggs sizzling on a frying pan and then boom — I was in — you’ve got mail aka welcome to my summer internship at gay sex incorporated hosted by AOL. As a horny early adopter of technology, it took me no time at all to find the gay chatrooms. I didn’t need fantasies of Anthony Kedis’ titties running shirtless or memories of S.B.’s wee willy winkus — I had all my online friends — and they taught me EVERYTHING about queerness. I was instantly addicted. I’d come home after school — log in to AOL and chat until bedtime. It was also the first time I learned how easy it was to deceive my parents who were very naïve and not from America- they thought I was
Mom — I’m gonna go study in the basement!
Big test tomorrow!
All day on Saturdays and Sundays!
By this time I was old enough that my parents felt comfortable leaving me alone if they needed to go out of town for the weekend. I told all of my online buddies that I had never seen REAL porn before so one of them made me three VHS tapes each filled with 6 hours of hardcore gay porn. We timed it so the tapes would arrive in the mail on a weekend my parents were out of town. I learned SO MUCH that weekend. But in the end I was still left with this empty pit in the bottom of my big belly — those men and the sex they were
having was hot, but it wasn’t me. None of them looked like me — they didn’t even look like people I thought were hot like Anthony Kedis or S.B.
Going into freshman year I knew enough about gay sex that attending the required sex ed class meant sitting through a lot of immature laughing and yawning. I now wish they would have taken all the fat kids out and said — ok — so that’s for them — and THIS is for US — you got a body sex ed 2.0 the fatty edition. You get to use parts of your body that skinny
people don’t even have! Rolls and bellies and soft and squishy parts feel REAL good when you know how to use them.
Which, at the time, I didn’t — until I met Hot Lunch.
I don’t remember if Hot Lunch knew how old I was or if he even cared. But he did know what I looked like — we exchanged photos. And he thought I was HOT. And I thought HE was hot. At the time I knew this was a big moment in my life — so I printed out his pictures on my parents fax machine and pasted them into my journal.
P.s. — the guy on the next 2 pages is someone I met online. He’s from San Francisco, gay, and likes big guys. I think he is so fucking hot and has the biggest dick…
There were two pictures — very graphic, very dirty, my 14yo self didn’t know that men could position themselves in that way to do the things he was doing — but I loved it. When I talked with Hot Lunch, my true authentic self was fully released. No more Nickelodeon, I was on fulltime all access Cinemax after dark HBO real sex take me to the porn theater wrap me in bacon and throw me to the menz. In reality, it was just some hot cyber sex, but for me it was everything. I found my first seemingly genuine connection with another man and it was hot and he LOVED that I was chubby which made ME love that I was chubby and he wanted to suck on my tits! I wore baggy clothes to hide them but when I talked with Hot Lunch I wanted to run thru the streets shirtless in a cloud like Anthony Kedis. As much as I loved talking with him I knew there were a few limiting factors to our relationship including 1.) I
was 14 and he was 24 and 2.) he lived in San Francisco and I lived deep in
midwestern suburbia. Maybe that’s what made our conversations beautiful — we were raw and uninhibited, we had nothing to hide — we would never meet in person – we could be anyone we wanted. He sparked in me something that I never thought I could be — a truly fucking sexy brown hot ass chubby boy that would be desirable, loved, and have sex just like they did in my six hour VHS tapes. For the first time I saw my future — and it was in San Francisco.
Eventually Mackenzi’s parents found out I was having sexy times on the Internet. Her dad had the master account and someone reported me for being underage. It was slightly embarrassing but as my adopted white neighbor parents they did a good job of not shaming me and never mentioned what they found out. They did cancel my account which meant no more hot lunch. By the time I was able to get a new account Hot Lunch was gone. Maybe he taught me everything he needed to at the time. He opened my eyes to this paradise called San Francisco — a place filled with chubbies like me and hot lunches like him having sex in the streets all the time. So I got here and I did what queers do — I ate burritos, partied in the Mission, drank at the Lex, danced at the Stud, and it wasn’t exactly the sex in the streets paradise I
imagined with Hot Lunch, but it was pretty fucking awesome. Then one day I’m in line at Trader Joes and I turn around and wouldn’t you know it — 20 years later — standing right behind me in line — is HOT LUNCH. I recognize him immediately — I’ve stared at those fax printer photos for years — I know what he looks like naked, hard, upside down, it was Hot Lunch in the flesh.
Ok, I did leave out the part where a few weeks before Trader Joes he found ME — on Growlr, a sex slash dating app for bigger hairy dudes. We chatted on there for a bit- he did not remember our AOL days, I was just a blip on his radar of online flirting with cute chubs. I never told him about the photos in my journal or how I told my friends about him or how he became a part of my teenage nostalgia. It was just for me to know and experience, it was my journey, and it got me here to San Francisco, to this Trader Joes, where I faced a full on homosexual circle of life moment. It was awkward, weird, uncomfortable, and exhilarating. We said hello, I acted like he was just any old internet fling, I quickly paid for my groceries and never saw him again.