A Date With Macho Man

After about an hour in traffic, I finally arrived at Ikeja. I was tired and I could feel a small headache brewing at the base of my skull. I brought out my phone to see that I had four missed calls from him. So I called back to tell him I’d gotten to our rendezvous. He sounded excited and apologized profusely for the traffic I went through. I told him it was no biggie. He said for me to wait for him at KFC, that he’d be joining me shortly.

I got to KFC. I intentionally picked a table facing the door because I wanted to spot him before he sees me. The time was 06:30 pm. I told myself I was going to leave by 8; so it was going to be a quick chat and dinner.

But this dude kept me waiting for close to thirty minutes. I got pissed. I’d come all the way from Yaba, spent an hour in traffic, and this motherfucker who lives in Ikeja couldn’t come to a restaurant that was just a few blocks away from his office?!

I called him about five times. He didn’t pick up. Feeling beside myself with anger, I got up and out of the restaurant. I was about to board a bus when I felt a hand grab my shoulder. I turned. It was him. I’d seen his pictures but nothing prepared me for how tall he was, approximately 6ft6. He had his phone pressed to his ear and his lips were curved into a smile.

“What the fuck, man?” I said angrily. “You fucking kept me here for close to an hour!”

“Babe, I’m sorry,” he said, throwing one arm over my shoulders. “I had to finish up my reports before leaving. I’m really sorry.”

I was still pissed, but I found myself grudgingly saying, “It’s fine. But really, I was just going to leave and never try to see you again.”

“If you had left, I’d have come after you o. I no fit let you go like that na.” He was rubbing my back as he spoke. And I began to feel something stir inside me. There was something about the way this guy was talking to me.

“So what are we doing?” I asked, taking his hand off of me.

“Let’s go in and have dinner, talk, maybe grab a drink before you go. Maybe I will turn that frown upside down, hmm?” And he threw his arm over my shoulders again.

Hmm, was all I found myself thinking.

We went into the eatery, and he picked a table, pulled out my chair for me and went to make enquiries about what was on the menu. He came back after a few moments.

“Baby, they don’t have fried rice,” he said, per my earlier request of what I wanted to have. “Will you do jollof?”

I told him that was fine. He winked in response and went back to the counter to make our orders. As he waited for the food, he would turn around to wink or blow kisses at me when no one was looking..

While we ate, he would stare often at me and smile. This made me very uncomfortable. I’d never been on the receiving end of such frank admiration. This was all new to me.

“Do you know what I thought that day I saw you at Ozone?” he asked as he poured some yoghurt in his cup. He was talking about the first time he saw me, a sighting that led him to my inbox on Facebook to begin our acquaintanceship.

“What did you think?” I responded.

“I thought you were hot, and I said to myself: ‘Obinna, that’s your boyfriend right there.’”

“Interesting,” I said. “You came by this conclusion just after two seconds of eye contact between us?”

“No,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s just that you check every box on my list. You’ve got a bad boy vibe, your height is awesome and you’re fresh.”

“That’s nice to know,” I replied as I dug into my juicy chicken.

“I love you, Kennedy,” he said with feeling.

I looked up from my meal and at him. I found the declaration amusing, considering the fact that it’d only been 48 hours since we started interacting with each other. I laughed.

“What’s funny? I’m serious here and I plan to prove it to you.”

“That’s cute, but what do you even know about me?” I asked, wiping the grease from my fingers with some tissue.

“Okay, let’s do it this way. Hi, my name is Obinna. I’m Igbo from Anambra State. I grew up in Warri. I turn 31 on Monday and I work with Airtel.” He had his hand stretched out as if to shake mine. I obliged him. “What about you?” he said.

“My name, well, you’ve seen that on my profile and I’m also from Warri.”

“I really want to kiss you right now,” he said as he bit his lower lip.

I looked at him. He isn’t bad looking, had a nice beard line, medium athletic build, dark skin. Aside from the elflike ears, I’d say he is a good 5 over 10. But there was still something not adding up.

“I’m going to go into the restroom now,” he said as he pushed back his seat. “Can you join me in two minutes? I need to kiss you so my nerves can calm down please.”

“No can do, cowboy,” I said, smiling to take the sting off my refusal. “That’s not gonna happen. Let’s go get drinks.”

I stood up to leave, and he followed reluctantly.

“Chai, baby, see as you fresh,” he cooed. “If we weren’t in Naija, I’d have grabbed you now and kissed you right here.”

The only thing I could do was laugh.

We got to a bar, ordered some drinks and conversed while we drank. We talked about relationships and sex of course. Turns out this dude is a self proclaimed ‘strict top’, one of those who won’t compromise, not even for someone he cares about. I told him I haven’t bottomed before, but was open to the idea, and most importantly, I wouldn’t want sex roles to keep me from happiness.

“That’s you o,” he responded. “Me, I can’t even imagine two tops together. What will they be doing?”

“First off, there are no stipulated rules,” I said. “We are all men who enjoy being with other men and that’s all that matters.”

“I can’t biko,” he reiterated.

“That’s fine. I hope you find someone that you’re sexually compatible with. As for me, I wouldn’t want to be with someone who won’t compromise for me.”

“But I want you,” he said, reaching across the table to lock his fingers in mine.

“Dude, we’re in a public bar,” I said as I untangled our fingers.

“So you’re saying you won’t bottom for me?” he said, looking right into my eyes.

“I would, if you’d do the same for me.”

“But I haven’t tried it before. I’m not sure I’ll enjoy it.”

“I haven’t tried it either. And how will you know if you’ll enjoy it or not if you don’t try?”

He sighed, clearly frustrated. “But I really love you, and I’m willing to wait if it’s time you need.”

“I should go,” I said, unsure there was anything left to say in this line of conversation. “It’s getting late.”

He signaled the waiter, paid for the drinks and we left.

“My house is just around the corner,” he said. “I’d like you to meet my brother, that is, if you’re not in a hurry.” He was smiling pointedly at me, and I found myself laughing as I said, “Yes, Obinna, I would like to make out with you too.”

We got to his apartment. He did have a brother. He introduced us and then took me to his bedroom. Once ensconced in there, we started making out. Occasionally he would stop, cup my face in his hands and say, “Baby, I love you.” To which I’d answer, “Thanks.”

The make-out session quickly became a wrestling match between both our egos. We weren’t willing to let go for the other. He wanted to be in control, and I wanted to lead. It was one intense and passion-filled duel. From the way we kissed to the way our tongues clashed… It was bloody.

I ended up spending the night. We jerked each other off and made out some more.

The next morning, he made me breakfast, noodles and fried eggs, complete with a kiss on my forehead.

“Monday is my birthday,” he said as he dropped next to me on the bed. “How about we go somewhere alone, just you and me? I’ll pick a hotel, we could spend a couple of days there, I’d go to work from there.”

“I don’t know about that,” I hedged.

He picked up on my hesitation and said, “Okay fine, let’s start small. How about movies on Sunday?” And he kissed my neck.

“Yea sure,” I said and pushed him off.

I got ready to leave. He squeezed some cash into my back pocket and grabbed my butt in the process.

“Someday, all this is going to be mine, and I’ll be the happiest man alive,” he said.

“It could be yours, sure. All you have to do is surrender that.” I grabbed his ass in turn and jiggled it. “So soft,” I whispered in his ear and bit his neck.

He laughed. “You this boy, your wahala too much.”

With that we kissed and he saw me off to the bus stop.

Written by Kennedy