THE MAN

THE MAN

The queue at the Fidelity Bank ATM booth that day looked like it could compare to the line that’d wait to enter heaven on the Judgment Day. It was as though the whole Nigeria came to a consensus that they would be using the teller machine that very day and at the same time. The sun wasn’t helping matters, beating down as it was on our heads and heating up an atmosphere that was already tight with the fraying tempers of the people in the queue. People kept grumbling as the line shuffled gradually forward at a pace the snail would laugh at.

From where I was standing in the queue, I’d long since come to the heart-sinking realization that I wouldn’t be using the machine any time soon. Seeking to be distracted from the misery of my situation, I perceived the scent of a familiar, sweet fragrance coming from behind me. It was a very male cologne, one I’d only ever perceived before on my father. Antonio Banderas was the owner of perfume, I knew it that well. And because I had to know who was wearing it, I turned and squinted up at the man behind me.

He had an intoxicating presence, looked like a model who’d just stepped out of a Vanity Fair magazine. For such close quarters, I was able to make a quick assessment of the man. He wore a sky-blue, long-sleeved shirt tucked into well-tailored gray slacks. The fly of his trousers looked like he was packing some generous amount of meat, and by God, that was something I was suddenly interested in. I tried to get a good look at his face, but the sunlight was in my eyes, and so I couldn’t make out very much.

After what was all of a microsecond observation, I turned back to face my front.

An idle mind, they say, is the working place of evil. What could be idler than waiting on a queue with no fewer than fifty persons before you? The line behind me had already started elongating, inadvertently causing rowdiness and unnecessary clogging. People were being meshed together due to the rising disorganization and the ever increasing crowd. And this brought about my first close contact with the man behind me. His Royal Gorgeousness bumped into me; actually, his crotch bumped into my derriere. And I felt a tingling sensation rise up my spine. There was an immediate recoil on his part, as though he’d been jolted by naked current at the contact. And then he muttered to me, “I’m sorry about that.”

I turned to look at him and gave him a light smile, trying to convey to him that it was a gratifying contact for me and as such, I didn’t need any apology whatsoever from him. As if to convince him of how I appreciated the crotch-on-ass contact, I feigned being pushed by someone in front of me and bumped into his crotch region one more time, making sure to let my ass linger for more time than necessary.

This time, he didn’t recoil. In fact, he pressed himself against my behind, intensifying the connection we were both having, much to the obliviousness of the other individuals waiting in the queue. As the heat of him coiled up inside me, I found myself suppressing a moan that threatened to escape my mouth. At this point, I knew we both spoke the same language. I suddenly didn’t care about the queue moving oh-so-slowly. I didn’t care about making any transactions at the ATM. All I wanted was some alone time with this man behind me, who seemed like he wanted the same thing.

The line inched forward and our bodies drifted apart from each other. I began to feel itchy, like something had been displaced from my back. I was suddenly horny, and if the electricity of our contact a few moments ago was any indication, he was horny too.

Acting on that primordial instinct now, I let the bunch of keys I’d been twirling around my left index finger fall to the ground. In an attempt to pick it up, I arched my back in order to accentuate the protrusion of my ass, getting up ever so slowly whilst making sure to caress the growing mound in his fly with my derriere. I heard him suck in his breath as I made my way up. I permitted myself a very satisfied smile when I heard that.

Then I straightened up and was startled when he held me close to him by wrapping an arm around my waist, while I ground into him for the briefest moment. He thrust very subtly forward, meeting my backward motion with his groin. This delicious moment lasted a few breathless seconds, before the line moved forward again and he let go of me.

I moved forward. He moved too. But I didn’t try any more stunts. We were in broad daylight and I couldn’t know if there was anybody observing our shenanigans. Kito is real biko!

We didn’t get up to any mischief anymore until it was my turn at the ATM. As fate would have it, we both finished at the same time and hence, left our respective booths together.

I had decided that I wasn’t going to act like something had transpired between us. For heavenssakes, he was just some hot guy I barely knew. This was random lust, brought on by a touch of the sun in the head, nothing else. I had just started climbing down the stairs of the bank when I felt someone pull slightly at my arm. I whirled around to meet the brownest eyes I’d ever seen. I was suddenly hit by the full brunt of the attractiveness I hadn’t been able to see under the blazing sun. His brows were full and his lashes could make any girl with an eye for the artifice jealous. And his cheekbones were so highly arched, they gave him an exotic look. This man couldn’t have been more than thirty. I was floored by his sheer male beauty.

I also noticed that his expression was unreadable, and I raised my chin, bracing myself for a confrontation, in case he was about to make an issue out of what had happened in the queue.

But then, he smiled and stretched out a hand, anticipating a handshake from me. I took it, smiled and we exchanged knowing looks.

“I’m Pete,” he said in a voice that was richly baritone.

Whatever was left of my insides liquefied at the sound of that voice.

“I’m Delle,” I cooed, inwardly striving to gather my wits about me. The last thing I wanted was to make a mess of my already smitten self.

“I love your confidence, Delle. You had me there. I’m sure you noticed.” He was still smiling.

My eyes involuntarily went to his fly as he spoke. There was something about this man, Pete – something so innate about him that seemed to bring out the primal part of me to the surface. A quick mental image of me astride him, his schlong buried deep inside my hole crossed my mind. I reflexively bit my lip and looked away from him, not wanting him to notice the flush on my cheeks.

“You are an amazing guy, Delle,” he breathed out.

Music to my ears! I thought with a rush of pleasure.

“Those seductive moves you pulled off then can make a guy do things he’d never think possible,” Pete was still talking.

I don’t know what it was, but I couldn’t talk. I just kept on smiling with my eyes averted from his face.

“I live not so far from here. If you could permit me some of your time, I could show you things…”

His words trailed off. His voice lingered. And my heart began a rapid beat.

***

“Oh yea! Fuck me, Pete! Fuck me harder! Oh YES!”

In what could only be a blink of an eye, I was panting those words as I bounced to and fro on a mattress in tandem with Pete’s fierce thrusts.

“Oh fuck yes! Fuck me harder! Oh yes!”

“You like me fucking you, yea? You like my dick?” He wanted to know.

“Yes, oh yes!” I validated in a scream. “Fuck me!”

He stopped then and pulled out of me abruptly. I’d never felt as empty as I did then. My anal muscles clenched reflexively, wanting the intruder back where it had just come out from. A second later, Pete was flipping me around to my side, raising one of my legs with his hand as he supported himself with the other hand. The Lazy Dog Style. Hmm. He thrust deep inside of me in a manner that testified to his haste to get back to business. It felt so good to be filled up again. Slow, long thrusts accompanied by fast, shallow thrusts. I was being fucked out of my mind.

Oh yes! Oh fuck yes!

“Delle…!”

Yes, baby! Fuck me!

“Delle…!”

Pete flipped me around to my back and my legs were shot up in the missionary position. His dick was now digging into places inside me that I never knew existed. He slapped at my rump.

Oh Pete – yes! Smack that fat ass. Smack me!

I was moaning into the sheets. I was at the brink of mind-blowing ecstasy. He slapped my ass again.

Oh yes! Smack that ass!

I felt like a porn star. Armond Rizzo had nothing on this Nigerian ass. But Pete’s smacking had become a little more persistent. And why was he calling my name as he smacked me?

“DELLE!”

The unmistakable high-pitch of my mother’s exasperated voice speared through my subconscious, jarring me out of the world I’d been in, out of Pete’s bed, out of his arms. I bolted up.

Oh my God! I thought, aghast, as I blinked myself back to reality. I couldn’t believe all that had been a dream. I couldn’t believe Pete, my gorgeous Pete, was just my mind playing out its greatest fantasies in my subconscious. My head was throbbing and my eyes felt very heavy. I winced from the pain in my head and tried to focus on the woman in front of me.

Wearing a black nightgown, with her hair haphazardly tucked inside a black hairnet and a chewing stick sticking out the side of her mouth, my mother looked every bit like the villain who’d been sent to snatch my happy moments from me.

“Do you know how long I’ve been trying to wake you up, young man?” she railed. “Have you forgotten that you have an interview by nine o’clock today? And it is already past eight! Come on, get out of that bed and start getting ready, my friend!”

I groaned and started getting out of bed as she moved to the door. And then she stopped at the door and turned, suddenly asked, “Who is Pete?”

Fucking Christ! Had I said everything I’d been screaming in my dream out loud? The banging in my head tripled instantly and my vision became blurred. I began mentally scrabbling for something suitable to say.

But she didn’t wait for my answer. She said, “Whoever Pete is, he had better stay inside your dream, because that is the only place he is welcome, am I clear?” She gave me a pointed glare before turning and walking out of my room.

With my heart pounding and my head racing to sort through the mess that was my thoughts, I got up from the bed and headed towards the bathroom. A slow smile stretched my lips when I remembered I was going to withdraw some money from the bank later in the day.

Written by Delle

Print Friendly, PDF & Email
Previous The Phrase Gay People Need To Stop Using
Next In The Case Of A Child Versus Gay Parenting

About author

You might also like

Our Stories 8 Comments

Happy Pride Month, KDians

Happy Pride Month to you, brothers and sisters. Continue to stay here, to stay queer, and to stay fab. Always.

Print Friendly, PDF & Email
Our Stories 4 Comments

No Strings With Mike Daemon (Episode 4)

#NOSTRINGS has an exclusive talk with JOHN ADEWOYE, a Nigerian, and an Ex-Priest of the Catholic faith, who embraced his true nature as a Gay-Man. He takes us through his

Print Friendly, PDF & Email
Our Stories 13 Comments

THE TRUTH

They say you leave a piece of you in everyone you date and break up with. They say you keep leaving pieces of yourself till there is nothing left inside

Print Friendly, PDF & Email

45 Comments

  1. Masked Man
    August 20, 05:52 Reply

    I quickly scrolled down, and saw ‘fuck me’ and ‘dick’ everywhere. I’ll come back to read biko. I cannot start the day with massive erection, while my mother is in the next room doing morning prayers and shouting blood of Jesus everywhere .

    *saves page for later*

  2. johnny
    August 20, 06:40 Reply

    Fucking u in dream is not a good sign dear… Evil on its way. lmao

    • Delle
      August 20, 08:23 Reply

      Lol. Aren’t you just a Nigerian?

    • Delle
      August 20, 08:26 Reply

      Ikr? Even in my dreams, I’ve got good taste *flips brows*

  3. Masked Man
    August 20, 06:53 Reply

    You have fat ass? ????

    Beautiful story. Thank you say na dream. Lol

    • ambivalentone
      August 20, 07:31 Reply

      Oya, clap that hand over ur own head and say “I too like nyash!!!!”

      • Delle
        August 20, 08:29 Reply

        Choi! You’re a mess, Ambi

  4. Mandy
    August 20, 07:09 Reply

    Why is everybody thanking God it’s a dream? Hunk like that, I’d wish to fuck him for real biko.

  5. Mandy
    August 20, 07:25 Reply

    Beht come o, Delle, how is it u didn’t freak out when your mom mentioned ‘Pete’? Dude, u were moaning ‘fuck’ and ‘ass’ along with his name for crissakes! Basically giving the poor woman a peek of your closet. Lol

    • posh666
      August 20, 08:25 Reply

      From the mom’s statement she obviously knows who her son is and what he does lool.

    • Delle
      August 20, 08:27 Reply

      I freaked out o biko, but her rejoiner was suspicious as well as calming so I let it be. What’s my own? I’m not your ‘straight-acting’ gay guy. Hihihi.

  6. SomeoneBorrowed
    August 20, 07:48 Reply

    LMFAO. I laughed so hard at this. This Delle is an ashawo. Ho! Too bad twas a dream though. Too bad.

  7. pete
    August 20, 07:56 Reply

    Am I now invading your dreams??

    • Delle
      August 20, 08:28 Reply

      Lmfao! I cannot laff. Not you biko….

    • JArch
      August 20, 17:25 Reply

      I thought I was the only one who saw the irony …. hahaha

  8. posh666
    August 20, 08:29 Reply

    BTW Delle u are a whore a very bad bitch! All ur description of the man and all that grinding n bumping in the banking hall got me hot and bothered…But come oh this is naija things could have gone horribly wrong in a second.

    Some enemy of progress could have just been in one corner observing things and will just raise alarm at the perfect time hahaha nice 1 sha!

    • Delle
      August 20, 08:33 Reply

      You tink my God eez asleep? You dee not know that is why the thing turned to become a dream, abi? No E.P in my life IJN. I cannot come and be kitoed in my prime, biko.

  9. Mitch
    August 20, 08:44 Reply

    Delle, only a couple of months away from me and this is what has become of you. *sprinkles obara Jesus*.

    And it had to be Pete you’d dream of abi? Berra face the truth about that budding sexual tension between both of you an do sontin abourrit! ?????

    • Delle
      August 20, 13:19 Reply

      Witch! It was a dream na. Someborri cannot dream dream again?

  10. OMG!!! It's HYPO
    August 20, 11:41 Reply

    #hehehehe, I can’t stop laughing @ Ur last sentence……Who knws, God myt be telling U something! If it hasn’t occurred, expect it’s occurrence #kikikikiki

  11. Kainene
    August 20, 11:45 Reply

    jesus onye oma ebube! mid morning torture *fans self* my current predicament is a serious sumtim *opens windows for air*

  12. Lord Naughtiness
    August 20, 13:54 Reply

    Lol….nice…really nice…it got me all hot and bothered but for some reason I was kinda expecting u to wake up…I just felt it was gonna be a dream…

    Hi…I am new and this is kinda like my first comment just been reading on the sidelines but I think its time to actually participate….I want to say I really love the stories and the tons of argument people have, and I wanna thank PP for creating a place where people can talk freely and not be insulted about how they feel and what they believe in….

    • Pink Panther
      August 22, 01:12 Reply

      Welcome here, Lord Naughtiness. Be fearless and be sure to bring your entire baggage to the comments table. 🙂

  13. Jagz
    August 20, 15:35 Reply

    Kai… Pete reminds me of a trainer in a gym I used to go to. The guy stands behind you during squats pretending to help. I later discovered that it’s his pickup strategy judging by the volume of guys that liked to do squats. Oga Delle… This Pete you are sharin today… Diariz Godu

  14. •*•sugarrrr*•*
    August 20, 20:27 Reply

    Jezzzzz,,,, this is crazy.

    Who is Pete?”

    Gan gan…. This sound Nigerian movies make when one is cought in the act! ????

  15. Lorde
    August 21, 13:58 Reply

    Lmao! That kinda dream tho, I wouldn’t mind having, at least I’d get a Lil action there, a bitches’ cooch has cobwebs on it

  16. Delle
    August 22, 19:50 Reply

    On a not-so-different note, this model is so not my type. That wasn’t who (or even close to who) I saw in the dream, PP. Too buff and muscular. Take note.

    • Pink Panther
      August 23, 01:18 Reply

      Yes, because my editorialism panders to your dreams, ei?

      • Delle
        August 23, 21:12 Reply

        *filing my nails with utmost concentration*

Leave a Reply