GRANDMOTHER’S GOODBYE

I met Michael on Grindr in August last year. I was in school, Nsukka, at the time for my induction ceremony, and he was in Ebonyi State University. He thought I was of course based in Nsukka, but I wasn’t. I was only there for a short period, and then had to return to Lagos. So, we couldn’t meet.

But we stayed in touch with each other, and our conversation moved to WhatsApp. We came to like each other, but Michael wanted more. It would seem as though he had developed feelings for me, and began pushing for us to be an item. To start dating each other. I absolutely didn’t want this for two reasons: it’d be a long-distance relationship and I’m not a fan of that; and secondly, I had a problem with dating someone who’s still in school.

I told him I couldn’t date him, but he either didn’t think I was serious or he simply wouldn’t take no for an answer. He wanted to come and see me in Lagos, and I told him I couldn’t host him. I stay with my family and having him around was a no-no. Unless he had a place to stay while in Lagos, that was not a feasible plan. He kept pressuring me on the topic of us dating, kept bringing it up every time we chatted, putting me in the uncomfortable position of saying no over and over again. I liked him, but I didn’t like this.

He further annoyed me by always addressing me with endearments like “my wife” and “bae” and “baby boy”. I can entertain these endearments when I’m bantering with my friends, people who I have a platonic relationship with. But when it comes to guys for whom I have feelings that I’m trying to quash because of the impossibility of our circumstance, I find it irritating. It feels to me like an encouragement of something that is not to be.

And on top of all that, I was getting swamped with work. So, to deal with all that work stress, and then get back to my downtime to deal with a guy who was acting like he wasn’t listening to me really aggravated me.

It got to a point when I had to block him on WhatsApp. It was something I really didn’t want to do, and so, when he called me to beg me to unblock him, I did. I really liked this guy. I just didn’t need the stress he was bringing to me.

However, after a few days of giving me my space post-block, he started again. Started wanting us to date. Started bae-ing me again. This time, when I blocked him, I told him I wouldn’t unblock him until I began to miss him. Of course, he had access to me on Facebook Messenger, but WhatsApp is like my safe haven. It’s not a lot of people that have my WhatsApp number because I don’t tolerate intrusion on that messaging app.

All this blocking drama happened in early January.

Toward the end of January, my grandmother died.

My family quickly got busy with funeral arrangements, and the burial was fixed for February ending. On a Thursday. A week before my family and I traveled to the village for the funeral, I unblocked Michael. That was all I did. I didn’t notify him. I didn’t chat him up. I simply unblocked him and carried on with my online activity. Posting WhatsApp statuses and changing display pictures about my grandmother’s funeral.

On the Tuesday of the burial week, my family and I traveled to Anambra. The wake was on Wednesday. And then it was Thursday, the day of the funeral.

And that was when Michael buzzed me. he chatted me up to state the obvious, that so I’d unblocked him and I didn’t tell him. That he only knew because he’d suddenly started seeing my WhatsApp updates. That he’d gleaned from my status updates that I was in Anambra. That I should have told him I was in the East, considering how much he wanted us to meet.

I apologized. Said I didn’t remember to tell him I’d unblocked him. And about my traveling for the burial, that that wasn’t information I made available to a lot of people.

He asked if he could come and see me that day.

I found his request incredulous, considering the fact that it was around 3 PM. The day was long gone already. I remarked on how far the distance was, and how it’d be too late for him to go back to Ebonyi if he came to Anambra that day.

He said he wouldn’t mind staying the night if I would have him.

I thought briefly about it. The circumstances were still the same as it was with him coming to see me in Lagos. I didn’t shut down the idea of him coming to stay at my parents’ house in Lagos because of any strictness from my parents. No. In fact, I was that child who hardly brought friends over to the house, and I was pretty sure my folks would mind much me having a friend over at the house. My reason for saying no was because of the lack of privacy in my house. It isn’t just about the open-door policy in the house, but also, the walls are thin. Hooking up with a guy in that house wasn’t something I was willing to risk.

And here in the village, the situation wasn’t that different. In fact, it was relatively dicier. There are just three bedrooms in my family house in the village. One room was occupied by my uncle and his wife, the second by my family, and the third served as a storeroom of sorts.

How would an overnight hookup with Michael work in such sleeping arrangements?

For some reason, I didn’t give tis the kind of deliberation I gave the idea of him visiting me in Lagos. I simply said yes to him coming and staying over for the night, and went on to inform my parents about his intended arrival.

I wanted to see Michael. And I was touched by the fact that he was willing to come all this way to see me. for the first time since we started interacting, I began to take him seriously.

He got to my place around 7 PM. I’d already told my folks that a friend of mine would be coming over. To prevent too many questions, I lied about the circumstances of our friendship; told them we met as schoolmates in Nsukka and that, like me, he was currently working. Expectedly, my parents were very okay with his visit.

When Michael buzzed me to let me know he was at the gate, I went out to meet him. In the dying light of the evening, I could see how much better he looked in person. So intensely attractive even that I felt this sudden overwhelming urge to kiss him right there and then.

One moment, I had the thought and the next, I made a move to execute it. I moved forward to kiss him, but he made a sound of abashment and moved his head out of the way. Then he gave me a smiling “you can’t seriously expect me to kiss you when we’re outside and I’m in foreign territory” look. I smiled back and led him inside.

Eventually, the last of our guests left, we had dinner, and it was time for bed. My uncle and his wife retired to their room, which was on one wing of the bungalow. My family retired to the other bedroom which was on the other wing. Now, the storeroom was where I intended for Michael and I to crash. (It had ample room for us to throw down a mattress and get cozy) But you have to know that it served as a connecting room to the bedroom where my family was sleeping. Which means you have to walk through the storeroom, and through an adjoining door to get into that family room, and vice versa.

I didn’t know what to expect that night, but whatever was to be would be a huge gamble.

Michael and I were the last to retire. Our bedding was made and we laid down.

For some minutes, we laid there, tense, listening to each other’s breathing, and very aware that an unlocked door was what separated us from the people in the next room. Many thoughts were whirling about in my mind. What if somebody was still awake in that room? What if somebody had to pee and steps out? What if this, what if that?

The spirit was cautious, but the flesh was weak. And the second I felt Michael reach for me from behind, I knew this was going to happen, the world be damned.

We were ultra-careful, trying to make as minimal noise as possible. Every move was deliberate. Even when we kissed and caressed each other, we tried not to get carried away. Then we were both on our sides; there would be no doggy or missionary. No complete nakedness either, as we shucked out boxers down to our ankles, and he slid his hard-on inside me from behind. Before then, during our chats, he’d of course sent me his dick pics that evidenced that he had a huge member; the kind of big dick I was positive I’d never be able to take. But that night, the tension and excitement and the prevailing thought that we could get caught somehow opened me up very easily to his penetration.

We fucked, and it was really good. Unexpectedly good. Even with all the restraints, the times I had to bite back my moans, the times he had to moderate his thrusts so there’d be no slapping sounds of his thighs hitting my behind, the times I kept a feverish gaze on that unlocked door, hoping no one would walk through – even with all that, we still had a really good fuck.

So good, in fact, that I cancelled my plan to travel back to Lagos the next day, Friday, and he cancelled his plan to return to Ebonyi. We spent the entire day in a sort of limbo, waiting for nighttime, for another chance to stealth-fuck.

That time came soon enough, and this time, we did it in the bathroom while we were taking a shower. This time, we fucked in the doggy position, a first for me because I usually find that position too painful for sex. But I also didn’t think I’d take Michaels’ big dick. So…

During these sexcapades, one thought kept crossing my mind: if we were caught, how would I handle it?

And I was quite surprised to realize that I would have seized that as an opportunity to come out. I’m at that point in my life where I’ve been progressively working to be independent, both financially and psychologically, and if my situation was forced, instead of denying or offering up some excuse, I really would have just owned my truth.

Anyway, nobody caught us. Nobody knew. Except, of course, my grandmother, who’d probably been observing me from the spirit realm, shaking her head and wondering at what sort of goodbye her grandson had come to her funeral to give her.

Written by Heartbeat