I attended a boarding school somewhere in the north central. As it’s been already established, lots of amateur gay sex happens in those places.
I remember one Sunday evening when I was in SS2. I was napping on my bunk shortly after dinner when my best friend at the time excitedly woke me up, saying something incredible had just happened and I had to hear. I quickly got up and paid full attention to him while he regaled me with the tale of how one of the hottest guys in our set, Oliver, had caressed him when my friend, Noah fell asleep on his bed while they were gisting. It was when Oliver tried to kiss him that Noah got up and ran.
You see, Oliver was a very good-looking, light-skinned chap. He was so dreamy, and had very brown eyes and I’d had a crush on him since he moved to our school the year before. I never would have guessed he was interested in guys, so naturally, this was great news, and I said a prayer of thanksgiving to God before I jumped off my bed and left for night prep.
I didn’t have sex with Oliver until we were in SS3 and Noah and I moved into Noah’s cubicle. Noah had a cubicle because he was a prefect. The cubicle was often referred to as “The Whore House” because clearly, Noah was a hoe, who hated and was hated by lots of our mates who were spiteful because he had either refused to sleep with them or they just couldn’t stand his sassy attitude.
Sex with Oliver was so good. He had started ‘courting’ me after Noah had divulged to him that I had a crush on him. The first time we had sex, he had been drinking Garri with Milo, and when I leaned in to give him a proper French kiss, I could taste the beverage in his mouth. I still remember how he tasted. We went on to have sex and kept at it till we were done with high school.
Four years later, during one of these ASUU strikes, we were both in Lagos, and he talked me into visiting him at his residence. I was like, “Okay, cool.” I got pretty excited. I was still very fond of the guy and all that.
On that fateful day, I got dressed and hit the road. After over an hour, I finally got to his estate. I called him to come pick me up at the gate, and then I stood and waited for my Prince charming to come get me.
Minutes later, I looked up to see an obese boy smiling and heading towards me. Because of my shortsightedness, I assumed that was Oliver’s younger brother or cousin, so I quickly picked up my phone to call Oliver and ask him why he was sending someone to get me when he said he’d come himself. I got the shock of my life when I saw the fat boy pick up the phone and it dawned on me that Oliver was him – the fat boy.
My perfect Oliver, winner of best physique back in high school, had fattened up to the point of bursting. I struggled to hold back my tears as I mentally counted all the pimples on his fat face while I shook hands with him politely.
I made small talk with him as we walked down to his place. I sipped on some juice while he played a porn video for the both of us to watch. The minute he took off his black jallabiya, my eyes went to his fleshy, pink stomach and I instantly ran to the bathroom to puke and cry my eyes out. I washed my face and returned to his room where I asked him to put his clothes back on, before I went on to gently inquire why he let himself go. Following our conversation, I laid out a routine for him to follow in order to go back to being the right size, picked some novels from his library for myself and headed home.
Written by Wayfaring Stranger