BEFORE THE HOOK-UP
The seed for the hookup is sown, and here we are, anticipating and chatting on WhatsApp.
Him: I can’t wait for this to finally go down.
Me: Lol. Same here. I’m looking forward to experiencing all those things you promised.
Him: Hold your breath.
Me: LMAO. Tell me more about what you’d like to do.
Him: Anything you are down for, baby.
Me: Well, just so you know, I like my men neat. A nice-smelling man gets me off anytime.
Him: Lol. I can get you off anytime.
Me: Haha. Boy, don’t I believe you. But seriously, a good body smell is still a prerequisite.
Him: Not disputing that. I love a clean man too.
Me: (now coyly smiling) I don’t mind his mind being dirty though.
Him: Ah! My God, I’m loving you already.
I laugh now, the gusty laugh of one enjoying this new connection.
Him: So you into big dicks?
Me: Yeah, no. Not all bottoms like big dicks na. And I’m not going to tell you I like a big dick, only to get in bed with you and end up crying into the sheets rather than moaning. Libido killer.
Then I gasp.
Me: You’ve got an anaconda?
Him: Hehehe. Not really. It’s sizable though. I’m sure you can handle it.
Me: Of course you’d say that. You wouldn’t want to discourage a potential hookup.
Him: LOL! Seriously, it’s not that big.
Me: So when are we meeting and where?
Him: ‘When’ should be Wednesday, when I have no lectures. And ‘where’ – that’s your call.
Me: Fine. My place.
Him: It’s a date then.
Me: Have I said how much I love confident men who tend to say so much more than they let on?
Him: Sweetheart, you just did.
Him: Lol. Do you have a bedroom secret?
Me: *thinking smiley*
Me: I love rimming. Both ways.
Him: You don’t say? *surprise smiley*
Me: That’s why I typed it. Lol
Him: Haha you are crazy.
Me: I know. *wink smiley* I have to run. Talk to you later.
DAY OF THE HOOK-UP
I am confident that we are now well acquainted, what with our chats and phone conversations. And today, he has called to say he is on his way.
I rush out of the toilet for the umpteenth time. There’s nothing like being too clean. I start ticking off all the hygiene boxes in my mental journal.
Last meal? Two hours ago.
Clean room? Relative.
Clean body? Of course!
There is a knock on the door. I open to let him in. there is some talk, some chemistry, and then we are falling into each other. I go for his erection, while moving my body to engineer a 69. He seems to notice and stops me with four shocking words.
Him: I don’t suck dick.
Me: (lifting my head from his crotch) Huh?
Him: I don’t suck dick. It’s not just something I do.
Me: (now astounded) I am trying to understand what you are saying. You never told me this before.
Him: It never came up. We could do other stuffs.
Me: (irritation piling) Like?
Him: Umm kissing, nipple-play, rimming –
Me: But you like to be given blow-jobs, right?
Him: Of course. I’m topping you na.
Me: Oh really. A top is a man with a dick. I am also a man with a dick.
Him: But you won’t use it.
Me: Okay that’s it. I am not doing again.
I begin to rise from the bed.
Him: C’mon baby.
Me: Don’t call me that please.
Him: Seriously na, I’ll make it up to you.
He pulls at my arm, pouting his lips most deliciously. I relent and return to his embrace.
AFTER THE HOOK-UP
The air stinks of sex and cum. I reach across the bed to him for a kiss. This is how I like to end sex: nice, sensual and on a soft note.
He turns his head to me, sees my lips drawing close and recoils.
No? I am startled out of my languor.
Him: I don’t kiss after sex.
Me: (voltage surge) Excuse me?
Him: I don’t like to kiss after sex.
Me: And…(I drag the word emphatically) why is that?
Him: It’s just not what I do.
I gain an instant insight into his personality.
Me: Because it makes you gay?
Him: Well, yes.
Me: (laughing heartily) So you don’t think of yourself as gay.
Him: No. I’m not.
Me: Seeing as you just finished fucking boy pussy, pray tell, what are you then?
Him: I’m TB.
I stay quiet for a moment, nonplussed, genuinely confused. I’m wondering, isn’t ‘TB’ the ratchet word for gay in Nigeria?
Me: So you’re not gay but you are TB? What does that even mean?
Him: I think it’s clear what it means.
Me: No, it’s not. Please illuminate me. Isn’t TB another word for gay?
Him: No. I’m TB because I like to have sex with boys, but I cannot love them.
Me: You do girls too?
Him: Why not?
He says the words like I’m stupid for asking, for thinking he doesn’t do girls.
Me: Well, I don’t do girls.
Him: Why? The gay blood don enter your body well-well.
There is more voltage surge within me, and I find myself breathing hollowly. Not today, Satan. Not today.
Me: So this is why you don’t suck dick?
Him: (shrugging) Maybe.
Me: Hmm. Cool.
Me: Absolutely not. As a matter of fact, get up from my bed. It’s a gay bed. It has endured too many gay asses, dicks and kissing after sex. You don’t want to get too comfortable.
He looks startled by my display of temper. Then he begins to rise.
Him: Okay o. But won’t you give me something?
My breathing stops momentarily.
Me: Something? Like what?
Him: Money na. At least for the work I did.
At this point, I begin to give in to Satan’s temptation, looking around for something – anything that can get into the human body, draw blood without necessarily causing death.
Me: You are crazy!
Him: Come on, it hasn’t reached like that.
Me: Shut up please! You came here on your accord to fuck me, to satisfy yourself too. Not like you were very good at it. As a matter of fact, you don’t come close.
Him: Ah! Baby, stop saying that –
Me: Shut up. Stop calling me ‘baby’. And let me finish! You are coming for a hookup and you didn’t come with anything. No lube, no condom, no good foreplay skills, no good brains, not a dime of integrity, not a single grain of love for your person, not a pint of respect for me. And now, you want something? I’ll say it again. You are crazy!
Him: But you enjoyed the fuck na.
Me: Yes. About as much as you would enjoy being thrown into the streets without your clothes on if you don’t leave here right now!
Him: Okay o. Na you carry gay for head. You must marry woman one day, shey you know?
He is starting to get dressed now.
Me: You may never find sense anytime soon sha.
Him: You are just a nonsense human being.
Me: Says the person who thinks there’s a difference between TB and being gay.
He stomps out of the room, and I slam the door, a satisfying good riddance to his bad rubbish.
Written by Delle