One of my roommates recently struck up a conversation with me concerning the US Supreme Court decision on same-sex marriage. He went on about how it was the mark of the end times, how God would punish America, and how all gays should be boiled alive and blah-blah-blah.

Listening to him, I felt no anger or irritation. I’m almost never angry when I hear homophobic comments. This roommate of mine (let’s call him Somto) was a Prayer Cord (Preyo) in the just concluded non-denominational fellowship on campus. He is an okay-looking dude, with a muscular butt, part of which he loves to leave hanging out over his frequently sagging boxers. I’d been plotting evil for him since he got me noticing his muscular butt.

So, during our conversation, I asked him why gay people should be boiled alive. And he replied that it’s because they are agents of Satan. I rolled my eyes, just barely resisting the sudden urge to tell him he’s been rooming, eating and was presently talking to an agent of Satan. Lol. Anyway, I don’t know how to make a case with people on the issue of the LGBT. I prefer to let them wallow in their stupidity. But I however told Somto that his point was like saying all short people should be killed because they are agents of Satan for choosing to be short. He objected, saying that short people were not to be blamed for their height, because they didn’t create themselves. I told him that was the exact same thing with being gay. I didn’t think he’d accept my reasoning. He didn’t. He maintained that being gay is evil.

Then he asked me why I was defending homosexuality. “You be gay?” he queried, eyeing me. “This guy, I don dey suspect you o.”

I replied that I was simply open-minded. (You know, with me being in the closet and all)

However, since that day, he started calling me gay; this he did only when we were together and alone in the room.

Then the day came when I was in the room, reading one kain yeye handout a lecturer gave my class. I was in bed, jejely flipping one page after another, when Somto returned from his lectures. I was alone. So he called me gay again.

While I ignored him, my mind responded to his teasing, jumping straight to all that evil I’d been planning for him. Two sly voices, settling one on either shoulder, taunted me with the memory of Somto’s muscular butt, asking me when I’d do something about it. I tried to shut them up, but the bitches were fully equipped to resist me, as though they’d been planning this. They eventually won.

Just then, Somto called me gay again. I mean, he was simply asking for it.

So I said in a mock-menacing tone, “Don’t call me that again or…” I let the threat linger unspoken.

“Or what? Wetin you fit do?” he returned with a laugh.

I didn’t answer. I remained in my bed waiting. And then, he finished changing from his street clothes and went to his bed.

And then, it was time. So, I said, “Shebi you’re asking me what I fit do, eh?”

“Yes! Wetin you go do, homo?” he reiterated.

“I go kiss you, so you go know as homo dey do.”

His eyes widened at me. If that was alarm on his face, I couldn’t tell. Then he said, “You no fit. Homo, comot here.”

That was all the provocation I needed. I immediately sprang up from my bed to his. I grabbed at his body, and he struggled to get me off him. The tussle was short and quiet, with both of us breathing hard while pulling and pushing at skin and clothes.

And then, my mouth captured his, claiming his lips in a kiss. The moment our lips touched, he stopped fighting me and froze. I didn’t let his immobility deter me. I continued kissing him. His lips stayed unresponsive for a few moments, and then he was kissing me back. His mouth opened and his tongue slipped out and connected with mine as he kissed me back with as much zeal as i was kissing him. As we kissed – mehn! – I wanted to shout: Pinky, come and see o!

Then, my hands went down to the back lands of the south. I grasped the twin cheeks of that muscular butt I’d so long desired and pressed them tightly. He moaned. I explored all those cracks and slipped my fingers inside his opening. Oh the warmth! That hole was literally burning my fingers. He wanted more. That much was evident as he moaned, pushing his derriere against my hands, and sucking my mouth harder into his.

And then, it was Lesson Over.

Yes. I stopped. I unclenched my hands from his butt and reclaimed my mouth from his. He whimpered as I pulled away from him, and climbed out from his bed. I had a raging hard-on, but this was not about me. This was about him and the lesson I set out to teach him. I stood by his bed and stared down at him for a long moment. He stared up at me, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, his expression that of someone trying to process what had just happened.

“Yeye fowl,” I said to him, and walked back to my bed, back to my reading.

“Devil,” he called back at me.

I chuckled evilly at that. I never enjoy being called a devil or anything satanic, but that day, I felt like changing my name to ‘devil’. Lol. I was so pleased with myself.

After calling me a devil, he added that I shouldn’t talk to him again. But I know and he knows that those were just the words of pussy reacting to the dick she can’t have.

Written by McGray

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