Big Bobo

The beginning

"Oh finally, food. I need it!'
Bobo parted his plump, brown lips and flashed his big teeth as the ordered food was placed on the table in front of him. The boys started eating with great pleasure.

There was talk about business deals, women and planned vacations, but Bobo didn't listen to it. He was too busy eating the king prawns and the carpaccio, two starters he always ordered when he went to this restaurant with Maverick and his friends. He eagerly picked apart the loaves of bread from the bread basket and ate them, spread with or without garlic butter. He was the youngest of the group, but that didn't matter to him. He was happy that he had found people who cared for him. Or rather, those people had found him. Exactly one year ago today, Bobo arrived in Europe after a long and dangerous journey with the hope of a better life. Ever since he was a child, he had big dreams of making a lot of money to support his family and dear friends, but as he grew older he discovered that his home country Ghana did not offer the economic opportunities to make his dreams come true. He helped his father and brothers on the withered land, the produce of which was barely enough to feed his family. They had no money and it was a miracle that Bobo was the only one of the children who had attended a primary school for a while, in a nearby village. He had to walk miles every day for this. Nowadays he sometimes wondered where he got the energy from back then. Bobo was eight years old when his mother died of an illness. He left school and helped his father in the fields again. When he was 15, two older brothers left for Europe. Life would be better there, they had heard. His father had tried to stop them, but his brothers went anyway. They would not survive the journey. A few years later his father died. A broken man who had lost too much. Then the civil wars started due to discontent and political instability. Bobo said goodbye to his remaining brother and sisters and despite their warnings, he too decided to seek fortune in Europe. He was almost 19 years old at the time.

"Look at him eating like a hog again!" said Steven, who looked up from his own plate and stared at Bobo.
The plate on which the shrimps were placed was already empty, as was the bread basket. The carpaccio was almost finished.
"Don't you give him anything to eat at home?"

"It seems like it's getting worse," Erik added, laughing.
He had followed Steven's gaze and looked at Bobo, who was trying to chew a big bite of the carpaccio with chubby cheeks.
"Oh, he's like a bottomless pit," Maverick responded disinterestedly.

"No matter how much you give him, it's never enough."
He carefully took another bite of the hot mustard soup he had ordered.
Bobo chuckled softly at the comments. He was already used to it. He simply liked food and enjoyed eating it. There were no signs that Maverick's friends found his eating behavior disturbing. Rather, they seemed surprised at his appetite and made him feel like he could do something special and that it was actually pretty cool. Steven looked at the empty bread basket and Bobo's chubby face for a moment, until Erik caught his attention with his own holiday plans and they too continued eating their starter.

As his father had warned his brothers, the journey to Europe did not go smoothly. Bobo was betrayed at the national border by other refugees, whom he had come to see as friends. He was arrested and tortured for days. The scars were still visible on his dark skin. It was pure luck that he was able to escape when he was being taken somewhere by truck. Several times he had had to hide in fear, without hope of help, not knowing where his journey would end. With wounded feet from walking for weeks, he finally reached the coast. The crossing was also not without danger. The sea was rough and the boat far too small for the number of refugees trying to reach Europe. Many people died of hunger, or fell overboard and drowned. But Bobo survived the crossing. Emaciated and with injuries, he reached the mainland again. Miraculously, his asylum application was approved. But Europe turned out not to be the paradise his brothers had told him about. It was difficult to find work and make new contacts. He discovered that not everyone accepted a dark skin color and that white natives were clearly favored. After wandering the streets for a few months, he met someone who could provide housing and a job. Giovanni was the first European to take care of him and even though he was a pimp who let his boys have sex with often much older men for money, Bobo felt safe with him. He discovered that Europeans thought he was a beautiful, black boy, with a large, meaty penis that more than made up for the scars in his skin. His swollen cockhead was especially appreciated. Customers regularly asked for him specifically and there were some who offered more than the price set by Giovanni. He had a lot of sex. Often unsafe, but he had never contracted an illness from it. He didn't make many friends there either. His colleagues were not the most likeable guys and jealous of Bobo's member and profits made them want nothing to do with him. One day Giovanni called him over and introduced him to Maverick, a school friend. They clicked immediately and he was given away as a kind of gift. By now he knew that Maverick had bought him from Giovanni, but why? In any case, they had never had sex. Bobo didn't complain. He had a nice room in Maverick's villa, no longer had to have sex with strange men and was regularly asked out for dinner at Maverick's expense. So he didn't need a job. And after dinner he drove back to the villa with Maverick.

Bobo got into the car with an overfull stomach. The food had been too good again and most of the guys' talk was about nothing. Maverick took the time to say goodbye to his friends. The sun had already set when they finally drove along the highway to the residential area where they lived.