My earliest recollections that something was weird was my uncle standing on the doorstep of his furniture store and his helper Miguel, dressed like a mannequin at the men’s store beside him. Everyone said Miguel was light in the loafers. What nobody said was that my uncle was enjoyed by Miguel, in that sense that a man enjoys a woman. Nobody told me my uncle was gay. That day, looking at them, I figured it out for myself.
That aside my he was my favorite uncle, and I was his favorite nephew. He was always kind to me and helpful. It was Miguel that freaked me out, all dressed up like that, and then one day in the bathroom of the furniture store I found a pair of panties. My friends said it had to be Miguel, had to. But I found out by accident that my uncle liked to wear panties. How much queerer could it get.
Strange things lead to stranger things, and as I hung out at the furniture store after work I saw lots of things, not only the panties. My uncle seemed to always be asking Miguel for permission. Should this couch go here or there? One day I was minding my own business and I overheard my uncle tell Miguel that he loved him. Oh shit, now what? They are queers, both of them. But it was the summer before I went to college that I walked in on my uncle, he was bent over with his hands on the desk, his pants around his ankles and Miguel was behind him.
My uncle never apologized or made any other effort to excuse his behavior. I couldn’t believe it, my uncle was the queer and Miguel fucked him. My friends told me, hey listen, remember for every queer that wants a fucking, there’s a queer that wants to fuck him. That’s Miguel, he’s queer too.
I grew up to try on panties, I grew up to bend over, I grew up to admire what my uncle admired, it is true that queers run in families. But why us? Why do we wear the panties. Why is it that we back up and take it up the ass and say we like it? Why us, why me? I didn’t understand. I wear panties, I have all colors, I like fancy. It’s when I have my favorite panties on that I feel empowered, to back up, bend over, take it up the ass, and thank him. I don’t think of him as queer.
The subsequent time I read a weblog, I hope that it doesnt disappoint me as a lot as this one. I imply, I do know it was my choice to read, but I truly thought youd have something interesting to say. All I hear is a bunch of whining about something that you may fix in case you werent too busy searching for attention.