Welcome back, my dearest friends! Hoping you had a great holiday and Happiest of New Year’s!!
As promised, here is Part 2 of my Javier story from 26 years ago! Enjoy!
Jorge would call me, and we chatted incessantly on the phone for what seemed like hours, though they weren’t really. He had to use calling cards to call me from a pay phone. He would constantly ask in his broken, yet sexy English, “When you come here?” He knew all about my then-acting internship and how hard it was for me to get away. He missed me, and I missed him terribly. However, we did get a chance to be together the weekend of January 19, 1996.
I arrived at The Power Company around 11:30 p.m. I was brimming with excitement as I stood in line to get in. After I finally gained entrance, I made my way into the crowded bar and upstairs to the mezzanine to see if I could spot him. While there, I saw him on the dance floor. Oh, how I loved to watch him dance, the way he moved. It was part erotic in a cute, boyish way. Part methodical, part slave to the music. He was wearing dark slacks, red shirt, and a black vest. He looked so good! I kept watching, staring until I noticed he wasn’t dancing alone. There was some black guy dancing with him! Shit! Suddenly, I was struck with a twinge of jealousy. ‘What the hell?’ I thought. Well, I didn’t exactly freak out like that, but I was still curious as to who that guy was. Had Jorge replaced me that quickly? I somehow remained calm. I guess all those years of experience with Darrell and Israel had prepared me for such shenanigans.
I coolly made my way to the dance floor to get a closer look. They weren’t touching, which was a good sign, but Jorge at one point had his back to him, like he wanted him to freak him from behind (or so I thought), but the guy never did. Another good sign. I got to the floor and stood near where they were dancing in hopes that Jorge would see me. He didn’t, so I got on the dance floor and danced near them. I got so close to him and actually touched him before he realized it was me. (I later realized Jorge really couldn’t see that well in the dark.) Child, his face was like daybreak at dawn when he realized it was me. He grabbed me and hugged me tightly. He grabbed his coat from the floor nearby and without a word to that other guy, he took my hand and led me upstairs to the upper bar, and we sat down on one of the couches.
“I didn’t want to interrupt.” Me still being calm, cool and ever so collected.
“Whaddaya mean?”
“That guy you were dancing with.”
“Oh, him.” He laughed. “No, that ‘s the boyfriend of my friend Hector. No, I was waiting for you!” With that he leaned towards me and we shared a steamy kiss.
He smelled so good and he tasted even better. We kept kissing and pulling back and looking into each other’s eyes and smiling. I WAS IN HEAVEN! Unlike Darrell Mitchell, Jorge’s eyes never drifted away from mine to look at anyone else. And I never let mine drift away either.
As we chatted, he kept squeezing my hand and looking at me. I could feel his soul slowly creeping into mine, and I didn’t want it to end…EVER! He asked me if I wanted something to drink. I asked for a Coke, and when he brought two Cokes back, it was then that I learned he likes his without ice. We continued our conversation, then we went to dance. He had this wonderful way of dancing where he moved his feet with small steps and swung his arms outward in a circular motion. I couldn’t help but copy that, the way I used to copy Charles’s rotating hips when he danced …
Our evening at The Power Company was magical! And my God, we closed the place. We shared a lovely slow dance, and I was finally with a partner (with the exception of Charles) who wanted to slow dance with me. We ended up downstairs in the video area on the sofa, cuddling until they told us we had to leave. We went to coat check to get our coats, and Jorge couldn’t produce his ticket. They wouldn’t get his coat, and I was ready to do battle for my man. Did I say that? Damn straight I did! 😂🤣 Jorge began to pull me away, but suddenly the coat check girl, who saw how fiercely determined I was for Jorge to get his coat, gave it to him anyway. Then we left.
We got to his car first, and we were trying to figure out what to do next. We were at his trunk when I noticed a bumper sticker that said Culican Sinaloa. He told me that it was his hometown. I then asked about Maria, Hector, and Rafael, and he said that he had told them he was coming to The Power Company by himself because he was meeting me. He didn’t want them tagging along. A man after my own broken, yet rapidly mending heart. We got into his car then we drove to mine, which was parked on the bar level of the deck. He parked, and then I retrieved a gift from my car that I had made for him. It was a copy of this Love Sounds tape I had made for myself years ago. It contained a lot of slow, romantic songs from artists such as Lisa Stansfield, Hall & Oates, Janet Jackson, and Kenny G. He was overjoyed that I gave him the tape. He smiled, staring soulfully into my eyes as he leaned forward and kissed me sweetly yet again. He then put the tape into his deck, and soon we were listening to Lisa Stansfield’s You Can’t Deny It. We began kissing passionately and by the time we got to the 3rd cut on the tape, Kenny G’s Songbird, we were – well, let’s just say it’s again PRIVATE! 😁😀🤣😂😅
It was North Pole outside, but oh so Cancun inside. Turns out we both had colds, but I was NOT about to let that stop me from returning to North Carolina to see Jorge. And apparently, it didn’t stop Jorge either. He had been painting outside in the cold, poor baby. But I didn’t care how sick I was; I wanted him.
We collapsed in a sweaty heap into each other’s arms. We were positively drenched in an ocean of wet! And Jorge ‘s windows were steamed, I kid you not. We soon fell asleep in each other’s arms listening to Songbird. The tape had looped back around. As a matter of fact we ended up sleeping there in his car the entire night. And every now and then I would awake and hear the strains of Kenny G’s Songbird coming from the stereo. It was amazing how I picked up on that song. No, his stereo wasn’t broken. I would slightly hear the other songs in my slumber, but for some reason I would only clue in to that particular song. In my sleepy, dreamy state I decided that that was OUR SONG.
We awoke to the sun breaking into the car later that morning. Jorge sat up and kissed me. He then stared at me, smiling sleepily. Oh, I must have looked a sight! I don’t think he cared. I told him I couldn’t believe we’d spent the entire night in his car. He told me he was glad he could spend it with me. AAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“Te quiero mucho, Jorge!”
“Te quiero mucho, mi nino.” He smiled.
I asked him what he was doing that day. He was supposed to have worked, but he took off just to be with me. I told him I wanted to go back to Teresa’s and shower and change, and then I would be back to pick him up, because Teresa and I were supposed to meet my friend Becca in Raleigh. I wanted to pick him up early enough to steal some alone time with him.
After returning to the apartment and getting some rest and showering, I returned to Juniper Street in Durham to pick up Jorge. We spent the day together simply walking around and talking. I showed him Carolina’s campus, and we walked through my favorite place, the arboretum. He was wearing his white coat, the one that had gotten accidentally locked up in CC last month, the night I met him. We had a remarkable conversation about – SEX! He admitted to me that he had bought a box of condoms, just in case! 😍 I marveled at meeting someone who thought ahead and who was also willing to use condoms unlike some other bastard I knew and despised, my first boyfriend, Darrell. Anyway, we left soon after to get Teresa, and head to Raleigh.
In Raleigh, we had dinner with my friends Becca and Teresa at the Olive Garden. The evening was fabulous as the girls got to know more about Jorge, and I played footsy with him under the table. I was overjoyed to have this moment with my 2 best friends from N.C. and a new man that I liked a lot. Jorge hardly touched his meal. His stomach was nervous. So was mine. Being around him gave me not just butterflies but Mothra, and I loved it!
We finished up and after dropping everyone off at their respective places, Jorge and I decided to return to Raleigh. We stopped for gas, and he paid without me asking. We went through Durham, however, and stopped off at the Community Park because he had something to tell me. He said he wanted to be honest with me. I guess this was coming from me having told him that I was going to be honest with him, that there was no need to lie about anything. What Jorge admitted to me was that his real name was Javier Muro Aguirre. There was no Jorge Cortez, except he had a twin brother, and his name was Jorge! I really wasn’t too surprised, considering the night I met him I saw his full name on his driver’s license, Javier Muro Aguirre.
So, he was really Javier Muro. Of course I asked him why the pseudonym. He hated the name Javier. Just like I hate my first name, William.
“Why?” I asked. “After all it is such a beautiful name.” He just didn’t like it. I told him I understood, because my first name was William, and I really hated that. He still wanted me to call him Jorge. I nearly launched into my entire split personality story, but decided against it, remembering the damage it had done to my relationships with both Darrell and Israel. For some odd reason around Jorge I was at peace, and I didn’t feel a need to splinter off into other personalities.
We continued on to Raleigh and CC, where I glimpsed Phil and paid no attention to him. Javier and I sat at one of the small tables and watched the moving bodies on the dance floor, that is when we weren’t watching each other. We were listening to tunes such as These Sounds Fall into My Mind by the Bucketheads and that Spanish-sounding song Magic Carpet Ride. We were hugging and holding hands and being quite romantic, until we joined those sweaty, gyrating bodies on the floor. They were playing Mariah Carey’s Fantasy. Yes, it was like a fantasy, a sweet, sweet fantasy baby! They were playing a real funky remix that slowed down to a halt in the middle, then sped up. Jorge and I held hands the entire time, gazing into each other’s eyes longingly. He never took his eyes off me, not for a second, and I never took my eyes off his. There was this strong, STRONG connection between the two of us that I had NEVER experienced with another PERSON ever!!!! We continued to gaze into each other’s eyes until we melted into a very deep SOUL KISS that seemed to last for a wonderful eternity. As a matter of fact I could have spent an eternity locked in his arms like that. We broke from our kiss and I spoke.
“How do you say ‘I want to make love to you’ in Spanish?” He smiled then he whispered, “Yo quiero hacerte el amour.” I repeated it to him.
“Yo quiero hacerte el amour.” He smiled and repeated it back to me.
We then kissed once more, left the dance floor, got our coats, and walked out of CC hand in hand. At the door, he helped me into my coat. What a gentleman! He held the door open for me, too.
We decided to go back to his place, because Hector, Rafael, and Maria were not supposed to be there. Thankfully they weren’t, so Jorge led me into his bedroom. The lights went out, except for the TV and we began staring at each other. I slowly began to peel off his clothes, beginning with his coat. Then I began unbuttoning his shirt, as he did the same for me. He slowly slid out of his shirt, and he helped me get out of mine. We hugged each other tightly, then I unbuckled his pants and unzipped them. He let his pants hit the floor. I pulled his yellow boxers down until they were around his ankles. He proceeded to unbuckle and unzip my pants as well. Soon we were both naked, standing in front of each other eagerly anticipating the next move. We just fell into each other’s arms and fell onto the bed.
We began to make love on top of his bed. Such energy he had! It was like having an aerobic workout my heart was pounding so hard! We were all over each other. I was on top of him; he was on top of me. We were in the throes of passion, when suddenly we heard someone try to enter the room. (Fortunately, Jorge had locked the door.) Rafael, Maria, and Hector had returned and we were banging on the door!! I could hear Maria’s voice sputtering Spanish left and right! Jorge and I got off the bed and began dressing quickly. When we were dressed, he unlocked the door and Maria stormed in followed by Hector and Rafael. She was pissed, but Hector and Rafael were amused. When they saw me there, they knew the 411. Maria, however, kept right on yelling in Spanish. Javier gave her a look and quietly threw out a couple of phrases as we were leaving. Outside the room he told me what she had said.
“I’ll have to use Clorox to clean the sheets!”
“Well, that’s not very nice!”
“Oh, she was just joking.”
“No, she wasn’t.”
I was not surprised that she would say something like that, because Jorge told me once that she was jealous of me. I don’t know why. Javier had assured me there was nothing between the two of them, and I believed him. (Well, girl you know how men are, particularly Mexican men and their big women!) But the question was where were we going to go to be alone? Perfect solution: A motel!
We hit the Durham streets and headed toward the boulevard in search of a motel. The Carolina/Duke Inn was booked solid, so we tried the Travel Time Inn across the street from Darryl’s. No telling what the clerk thought when he noticed Javier in the car. Nope. I was finally involved with someone who was single. Ha!! At last we were together again uninterrupted. We went upstairs, undressed, and crawled into bed.
I awoke around 7 a.m. I had told Teresa that Javier and I would be accompanying her to church that morning. While he was in the bathroom, I called her and told her we were still coming, but I had to take him back to his place to change.
Outside at the car, Javier held my coat for me, and he opened my door and held it for me, too. Teresa watched all of this with disbelieving eyes. We made a stop in Chapel Hill, and he even helped Teresa wash, clean out, and vacuum her car. He didn’t seem to mind. After that we went to eat at a Chinese restaurant at University Square. Javier shocked both of us when he picked up the check!
Afterwards, we got back to Teresa’s, and Javier and I decided to go to the movies. We ended up at Timberlyne and decided to see Eye for an Eye, with Sally Field and Kiefer Sutherland. I paid for the movie since he had paid for dinner. Once we found our seats, Javier helped me out of my coat, and I helped him out of his. There was no one else in the theater yet, so we had carte blanche to do what we wanted. We sat in the very back so we could be alone and smooch. We immediately sat close and held hands and kissed. I looked at him and marveled at how sexy he was. His eyes were so beautiful, brown, and sparkling; his lips were thin, yet sensuous; his moustache was missing this time (he shaved it off by accident), yet he still looked so good; and his eyebrows were bushy and connected, sort of like Eddie Munster, except Javier was much better looking. And his smile was probably his best feature, the way he sort of half-smiled. I found that soo sexy for some reason.
We were enjoying ourselves when we began to realize that people were filing into the theater. Soon the previews were rolling, and Javier and I settled back into our seats holding each other’s hands. Though I did want to see the movie, we ended up kissing in the middle of the movie several times. One of my eyes was on the screen, the other on Javier, until I gave up and totally gave him my 100% undivided attention. I began to realize that my feelings for him had really begun to take off and grow. They were getting deeper and deeper and stronger and stronger. I had been falling for this man basically since I met him. He had wanted me to stay with him on this trip, but I had politely declined, not because I didn’t want to sleep with him in his bed, but because his place was way too crowded. Suddenly, Javier announced that he had to go to the bathroom. I smiled at him and said okay. When he returned I noticed he had two drinks with him. The little devil had bought us drinks without even asking if I wanted anything. How thoughtful!
“Two Cokes. No ice!” He smiled sweetly. I nearly started crying, because it was one of the most thoughtful things that any man had ever done for me. It was then that I knew exactly how I felt about Javier Muro/Jorge Cortez:
I WAS HEAD OVER HEELS IN LOVE WITH HIM!!!!!!!!
Hopelessly in love with him! REALLY IN LOVE WITH HIM! CRAZY IN LOVE WITH HIM! After he sat down again and he kissed me, I whispered it to him.
“I love you.”
He smiled at me, and I think he blushed. He pulled me into yet another steamy kiss.
“Te amo, mi nino.” He whispered in the dark.
“Te amo, Javier.”
I never thought I’d ever feel that way about another man again, but I did.
After the movie, and being the gentleman that he was, he helped me back into my coat and I did the same for him. After we left the movies, I took him for a ride around UNC’s campus. He began telling me about his life in Mexico and how he was a cop.
“A cop?” Registered shock hit my face.
“Yeah.”
“And what would you do if you were a cop here in your squad car and you pulled me over for speeding?” I asked, with a devilish gleam in my eye. “Would you give me a ticket?” I asked.
“If you liked me I wouldn’t give you a ticket, but if you didn’t like me I’d have to give you a ticket!” He chuckled. I smiled back at him.
“I love you. I mean Te Amo, baby.” I whispered.
“Te Amo, mi nino.” He then leaned over and kissed me.
After trips to the bookstore and Caribou Coffee, we ended up at The Carolina Coffee Shop on Franklin Street where I learned more about Javier.
When he was 15 years old, his mother shipped him off to the army. Why? I never knew. I don’t think Javier knew why. I figured with him being a Cancer and Cancer males were especially notorious for loving their mothers and getting along with them, that he and his mother got along. Javier said he did not get along with his mother. Oh, well blew that theory. Growing up with 8 other brothers and sisters, which included a twin brother, was not always easy. In school and at home, people confused him with his twin. Whenever the real Jorge got into trouble at school and at home, Javier was the one who got blamed. A whack up side his head at home by pops. I don’t think he got along to well with him either.
At any rate, Javier spent five years in the Mexican Army, and while he was there he ended up (1) falling down a hill and breaking a bone and (2) falling out of a helicopter! A man after my own heart, one as danger-prone as I! After he got out of the Army at about 20, he became a cop for 2 years. I think it was towards the end of his stint as a cop that he met the woman who bore his daughter, Jessica. But it just wasn’t meant for him to be a family man or for him to be straight. He was introduced to homosexuality following a motorcycle accident, the accident that broke his right leg. Maria helped him out back then when he couldn’t get around. Towards the end of his recovery, a male friend took him to a gay club and well, the rest is history. He came to the U.S. early in 1995 and lived with a cousin in L.A. He hated it. When Hector called up and suggested he move to N.C., he gladly went. Lucky for me.
Javier chatted incessantly, and it was so much fun just listening and watching him talk and talk and talk. He was so animated!
“Don’t let me talk so much. You tell me something.”
“All right. Te amo.” I smiled.
“Te amo, baby.” He dropped his eyes and lifted his head and smiled. I just let him talk on. It was the accent. Awww, mushy, icky shit, I know but how many chances do I get?
I paid the bill and we left. We walked down Franklin practically arm in arm. Once we got to where BK Lounge used to be (Burger King), we were arm in arm. We crossed the street just like that. The time had come for me to take him home, and neither of us wanted that. After we got back to Juniper Street, I asked him to give me another photo of him, and I promised I’d send him one of me. He gave me a picture of him when he was in California, a photo of him in a tree, his feet propped against the limbs, and he was wearing a white “husband beater” tank T-shirt and olive slacks. He really looked ethnic in that photo. His hair was a little longer and he had his moustache. He was so sexy! At first I didn’t think it was him.
“Is this your brother?” I queried. He punched my arm and said, “No.” I took it and I hugged and kissed my new (and hopefully last) lover.
“I’ve got to go.” I whispered.
“I know.” He whispered back. Once we got outside and while we were standing on the landing he looked at me and said, “I’m starting to hate Atlanta!” Those words rang in my ears like the blare of 1,000 trumpets. I was beginning to hate Atlanta, too. It was separating me from the man I truly loved!!!!
“Goodbye, Javier.”
“No goodbye. Hasta luego. Until the next time!”
“All right. Hasta luego. Until the next time.” I smiled. With that I climbed down those metal steps, climbed into my car, and drove off into the night as he watched from the landing. And as I drove off, tears formed in my eyes and streamed down my face.
“Hasta luego, Javier.” I missed him already.
Okay, so this ends Part 2. If you’re enjoying the story thus far, come back for the third and final part next week! Until then, as always, be mentally well!!
DEREK’S DISCLAIMER: I am not a medical professional, neither am I giving any medical or legal advice. If you are seeking help from a doctor or an attorney, please consult said professionals. These are my personal thoughts and feelings on the subjects discussed, and my blog is my own personal experiences and journey with mental imbalance. Thanking you in advance!
AFFILIATE DISCLAIMER: There are products on this page. By clicking on the links, you will be redirected to that page at no cost to you. However, I will receive compensation if you purchase something (which I hope you do 😊).
