I have a thing for younger guys. Once I meet you online and discover that you are older than I am, then I’d shut you out from my mind. I might continue chatting with you, but I’ll keep on posting you till you get tired of me and end up deleting me or blocking me. Anytime I tell friends about my likes, they end up making fun of me and call me a cradle-robber. So then, I decided to give the older guys a chance . . . well, since the younger guys have been falling my hand.

So, I was on 2go (Judge Nut) on a Monday morning. It was a slow day at work and I was bored. So I decided to visit Men’s Lounge (or is it Men Only?), and then added a guy in Abuja. His name is Chuks and he is twenty-eight years old. His 2go profile picture was okay, even though I could not see his face; but he was lying on a bed and he looked hot. We began to chat. He told me he was doing his Industrial Training (IT) in a hotel and was on night shift. I also found out that we stay in the same area. That was actually the main reason why I did not cut off from him. I thought we could be friends and would hunt young chaps together. He described his area to me, but I did not know the place because I don’t go out much.

We kept on chatting and he kept on telling me that he wanted us to meet; this he did every single day for nearly a week. But a meet was not possible, because he went to work by 4pm and closed from work the next morning. Sometimes, he’d suggest meeting in the morning, but I would not hear of it, because I did not want to be delayed from going to work early by anyone. I told him to exercise patience till Saturday. I felt okay with meeting him because he stayed close to me and looked okay in his picture, even though I’d seen just a picture of him. The picture was his whatsapp profile picture. He had hair on his chest in the photo, and even though I don’t like hairy guys, I still wanted to meet him.

Chuks told me he liked sex. I told him we wouldn’t be having sex, because I hadn’t had penetrative sex at the time. He pestered me for a reason why I hadn’t had penetrative sex, and I told him that I simply wasn’t interested in sex until I meet someone cool enough to make me yearn for it.

So, we agreed to meet on a Saturday. When the day came however, another guy came to visit me from Akwanga, someone I just had to meet, and I decided to meet both of them the same day, the Akwanga guy by 11:30 am and Chuks by 4pm. Chuks called me by 1.30pm, and because the Akwanga guy hadn’t come yet, I told him I was expecting someone and would call him back by 4. I did not call him again, because the Akwanga guy came by 3, and we had sex or something like that. Penetration was involved. (Story for another day)

After this, I was not happy. I didn’t feel the way I thought I’d feel in the aftermath of me losing my virginity. And I felt as though I’d been deceived into giving it up. When I told my friends about it, they all told me it was meant to happen one day.

When I got back in touch with Chuks, he told me he was not happy with me because I stood him up. I apologized and told him I was not happy myself. He asked me why and I refused to tell him, because I knew he might start pestering me to have sex with him since I’d finally done it. But upon his insistence, I told him everything. Surprisingly, his reaction was anger at the guy for pressuring me to do what I didn’t want to do, after which he said some nice things to me. I was touched and this prompted me to open up to him some more. And so, when he asked me for the Akwanga guy’s number, I had no qualms about giving it to him. Eventually, we agreed to meet on Sunday after service.

I did not agree to the meet with the intention of letting anything happen between us. To me, this meeting was going to be platonic. This is because, to me, Sunday is holy, and not a day to indulge such carnal desires. (I don’t even wank on Sundays) My intention was for us to meet and then stroll around the neighbourhood, during which time I’d point out my crushes to him, and we could talk about them.

However, after church, I was so tired I simply wanted to turn off my phone and rest. I did not feel good, and was in no mood to entertain company. As I contemplated what to do, Chuks called and asked if I was home yet. I lied that I was on my way and would be in thirty minutes. Thirty minutes later, I called him and told him that I was at home. About an hour later, he called to tell me he’d gotten to the agreed spot. This was the place I always tell guys to wait for me, so I could check them out before meeting them, so as to confirm if they were alone. When I saw Chuks standing there, waiting for me, I was disappointed. No, he wasn’t ugly; he was just there in the looks department. He’s so ordinary looking that presently, I cannot remember what he looks like. If I should see him on the way right now, there is a strong likelihood that I would not recognize him. I was that not into him. I was also turned off by his dressing; he had on a not-so-white T-shirt and three-quarter-length shorts that was very tight around the knees. He reminded me of those guys who sell ‘bend down select’ in Yaba market. I knew there and then that I was not going to meet him again.

I took him to my place and we started talking. He told me he had seen me a number of times on my way to work, and that he’d even been tempted to approach me one of those mornings. By the time he was done describing what I wore to work one morning, I believed him. I didn’t have to wonder why I’d never noticed him.

Sometime during our conversation, I got tired, and began making it subtly obvious that I wanted him to leave. He wouldn’t take my hints, and refused to leave. I asked him if he wasn’t going to go to work, he said he didn’t work on Sundays.


I also noticed that he kept on licking sweets; he licked over five of them in my presence. I did not really see anything wrong with it. Then, he stood up and came to where I was seating. When someone does that, I know what the person wants. So, I stood up and was about go to another seat, but was stopped short when he pulled me back down. I was stunned but I thought he was playing. So, I stood up again and he pulled down again, this time more forcefully. Then he leaned forward and tried to kiss me, and I moved my face away. I shoved him away and went to a different seat. He came and sat on the same seat. I asked him what he wanted, and he said he just wanted to be close to me. Then, he started touching me, his hand stealing across my thigh. I batted the hand away, irritated, and told him sharply that the day was Sunday and therefore, nothing could happen between us. It seemed like he did not hear me because he tried to kiss me again. He held me tightly and pinned me down into the seat, physically preventing me from getting away from him.

During the period of our conversation, there’d been some women talking outside my window. And when Chuks and I started arguing and pushing at each other, the women stopped talking, and the environment beyond my window became quiet, as though they were straining to listen to what was going on in my room.

Now, I have always had the impression that it is impossible for a guy to forcefully make his fellow male guy do something he’d rather not do. I don’t even consider gay rape a thing. Heck, I’ve never considered ever being in a position where someone would want to subdue me, not in my house and not at my age. I very quickly realized how wrong I was.

We were now struggling in the seat. I pushed him to the floor. He toppled over. I tried to get to my feet, but he held my legs, and my flight was cut off as I fell. We started rolling about on the floor, with him still trying to overpower me and me fighting him off. We banged against some furniture, nearly causing the television to drop to the ground from its place on the stereo stand. I also almost hit my head on the centre table. At this point, we were sweating from all the exertion.

After some time, I succeeded in getting away from him, and I fled outside. But I could not leave him in my house alone for long, my laptop and phones were inside. I also had some money and official documents in there, and I did not trust him. So I went back inside, and asked him what he wanted. He said he wanted us to romance. I told him we could do it anytime since we stay in the same area. He refused, and pounced again on me. Before I knew it, we were back in the struggle again. This guy was taller, bigger and stronger than I am. It alarmed me how weak I felt next to him. He was determined to have me, and the thought that he may very well have his way terrified me. I still had on my clothes – a T-shirt and tight jeans. He kept on trying to yank my trouser down, but the snugness of the jeans made that maneuver impossible.

Finally, he relented, and stopped trying to force himself on me, even though he still held me pinned down. He told me to wank him. I agreed, anything to get him satisfied and out of my presence. He removed his singlet (he’d pulled off his shirt the time I escaped from him), and I stared at all the hair – so much hair, all over his chest and stomach, trailing down to his pubes. I felt like throwing up. He was in good shape though, with the requisite six packs that came from working out.

Then he pulled off his shorts. He was wearing pants. For no reason at all, that irritated me some more. Who even wears pants these days? It wasn’t even sexy underwear. It was the grandpa kind of pants. I declined removing my clothes; after all, my hands were all he’d asked for. I started wanking him, but his dick refused to get hard. He said he couldn’t gain an erection when I was fully clothed. I had to be naked to arouse him. I refused. Then he asked me to suck his nipples. I stared at his nipples, and leaned forward. But then, I saw all that hair and I simply couldn’t bring myself to do his bidding. I told him I couldn’t suck his nipples. He asked to suck mine. I agreed, and pulled up my T-shirt for him to gain access to my nipples. He began sucking them, and his dick hardened in my hand. I began to wank him vigorously, but he kept on getting hard and soft, and hard and soft. The whole thing was exasperating. I had a lot of things to do and this guy was wasting my time.

Then, I gave in to his plea to give him a blow job. I sucked his dick for some moments. He wouldn’t come, and I couldn’t keep at it. He had the biggest dick I’d ever seen, and I really didn’t even want to be sucking him in the first place. Then he started kissing me. I could not breathe. He held my neck tightly in his hands and pushed his mouth hard against mine. He sucked my tongue and everywhere in my mouth. I felt his teeth grind against mine. And I thought I was going to die there and then. He was such a bad kisser.

And then, my mind became preoccupied with wild thoughts and rapid imaginations. I began to recall all the vampire films I’d watched, and how people were killed during sex. I became scared. I thought the guy was a serial killer. I thought about my mother and how she’d cope if I was no more. I thought about where I’d spend my eternity in the afterlife, and how I’d be judged for letting my demise happen on a Sunday, during forced sex. Irrational fear filled my insides and suffused my heart.

He held my neck very tightly and ravished my mouth. I wondered fleetingly if this was how people actually kissed. I’d never had much practice. And here he was, making me hate the art of kissing. And the smell of the sweets he’d been licking earlier filled my nose, making me gasp for clean air. I had to stop this. I pushed at him, a clear and firm indication that I’d had enough of this violation he seemed to think was kissing.

He relented, and then asked to fuck me. I expressly told him no. Then he asked to have lap sex. I wondered how we’d come from wanking to this. Even then, I removed my clothes after much cajoling and just lay there, and told him to get it over with. He asked for cream and I gave him a bottle. He smeared the back of my thighs with it, and dropped his weight on my back. He slipped his dick in between my thighs and began thrusting. Every now and then, he would try to put his dick inside my asshole. And I would take my hand around to push it out of that direction.

I prayed silently and furiously for him to come already. But he just wouldn’t. I began thinking of the soup I’d planned to cook for the week and how I did not have any ingredients at home. I had a lot of things to do and here this guy was, wasting my time. Intense dislike for him filled my heart then.

After grunting behind me endlessly without coming, he pulled away and asked me to do him too. You know, fuck his laps too. I obliged him, and it wasn’t long before I came. After that, it was nearly an hour later before he came, in spite of all my ministrations. He’d really wanted to get inside my ass, said that was the only way he’d come fast. But I wouldn’t let that happen.

Immediately after his ejaculation, I left him and went to have my bath, to wash away all the nonsense of the past hour. He followed me but I shut the door in his face, telling him he’d have to wait till I was done.

When we were done cleaning up ourselves, he apologized. I coolly accepted his apology. I did not want to say anything that would prolong his stay in my house. I just wanted him to get out. As we dressed, he tried to make some small talk, and I responded as coolly as possible, without sounding outrightly unfriendly. I walked him out of the house, and when he offered for me to escort him to his place, I instinctively agreed. I didn’t know why, but I wanted to know where he lived. There was no telling when or how I’d need that knowledge in future. I followed him to his house. I even got inside, where he proceeded to tell me he was in love with me. I laughed. He said he wanted me to be his and that I had the kind of body he liked in a guy. I laughed again. Was this guy serious?

In the days that followed that eventful Sunday, he kept on trying to chat me up like nothing had happened. But my responses were always cold and stiff. To him, what happened was not a big deal. To me, it changed everything. One time, on a rainy night when I got home from work, he chatted me up and told me he wanted to be with me. I told him the last time had been a mistake, and that it would never happen again.

Because of this, my stint with guys older than me is over. I despise the guy for what happened, and for reawakening my distrust in new acquaintances. Because of him, I felt dirty for several days after that Sunday. I even considered going for a HIV test because of the fear that he’d somehow infected me. It didn’t help that I began to have a headache on some days, and then, there was the lone pimple I got on my forehead. Pimples are a rarity with me, and this one’s appearance so soon after my interlude with Chuks scared me.

It was quite a long time before I got over this thing Chuks did to me, this feeling of one who’d been violated that he left me with.

Written by Sinnex

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