A HOE ABROAD (Episode 4)

Everybody has a type, right? And especially when it comes to sexual partners, gay men tend to generally like their men a certain way.

For me, there’s something about a well-built, muscled man that gets me, something about their dedication to being so fit that makes me think of them as capable of handling me, because I know I can be a beast or, say, a bad bitch in bed. I also like to be dominated, and to me, only this type of guys can do this. Not to body-shame, but I feel like thick guys would be too lazy in bed and skinny guys would just break when I mount them.

So that day, the profile that caught my eye was a 7 out of 10. Even then, I was wary because of the common knowledge that pictures can be deceiving, especially on Instagram where everyone is about packaging.

Sam was your average fit, fine, stylish Nigerian man that you would want to have a flirtationship with, or at the very least be friends with. I went through his Instagram pictures down to 2019, and I noticed one consistent thing about him: his seductive smile. He had the most winning smile I’d ever seen on a man. And I decided in my head that I simply had to fuck this guy. By whatever means possible, I simply had to have a taste of this son of Adam.

I proceeded to his DM and I typed, “You just couldn’t help but be fine, right?”

I sent that. And then, I followed that up with, “Those lips could do wonders though.”

Flirting is one of my strong suits, something I enjoy doing because I am good at it. Especially now that I had left Nigeria where you don’t know the mentality of the person whose DM you’re sliding into, I could exercise the full potential of my flirting skills. It also gives me a particular kind of power when I flirt, especially when the person on the other end responds accordingly.

Sam responded accordingly, when a few hours later, he replied with, “Lol. What’s up? How are you?”

That was a good start. And it progressed quite well. We chatted for hours, and those hours of chatting turned to days, and then weeks. We were mostly getting to know each other and all sorts of other basic stuff. There didn’t seem to be any rush to meet.

Then he invited me to a party which he said he and his friends were attending. The party was at a club, and when I got there that night, he came out to pick me. We exchanged greetings and I was struck again by how beautiful his smile was even in the night, however well-lit the area was. He was kinda short, a few inches shorter than me anyway. He was wearing a vintage shirt, long denim trousers and white sneakers. Pikin fine finish, come sabi dress on top. I sha know say I go fuck this one.

He led me inside to his table, where his friends were. It was an impressive table, not with any terribly expensive drinks, but there was a variety so that it seemed everyone had something they liked to drink.

I settled in at the table and was just there, sitting pretty, forming gentle and picking my words one by one. Let’s sha form bougie and classy oh, we no know who be who. His friends were mostly from other African countries and they were so friendly. The camaraderie at the table was great, and I was having a good time.

But then, I soon got tired and wanted to go home. I was also hungry, and I was hoping to get home and have a really late dinner. It was about midnight at this point. Sam noticed that I’d gotten really quiet and not responding as much to the banter at the table. He poured me another drink and asked if I was having fun. I said yes, because, well, what else was I going to say?

At long last, it was 2am and it was time to go home. This group had African taxis they use; they called two and we all piled inside the taxis. I sat in the front of the taxi I got into, and Sam sat at the back with two of his friends.

As the taxi driver pulled out of the club premises, my phone vibrated and I saw a message: Do you want to follow us home or you going back to your place?

I stared at that message, while thinking: Fadalawd, you know I want this boy’s penis. So help me in choosing wisely.

Then I replied: I need to get home as I’m feeling funny.

I wasn’t feeling funny, but I had figured that if I followed him home, the presence of his friends would be too much of a distraction that would most likely end up wasting my time. It was obvious to me that there would be no shagging tonight. I wouldn’t call the night a bust anyway; I’d had fun and drank free alcohol. So, I suppose another time.

However, when the taxi got to my place and I began getting down, I noticed one of the back doors open and Sam got down as well.

Okay! So, two of us dey reason the same thing then. God don talk say na today I go collect this prick. Hallelujah!

“Aren’t you going home with your friends?” I asked because, well, what else was I going to say.

He said no, that he would like to know my place.

Okay o.

I picked my room key from under the carpet outside and opened the door. My flatmate was obviously in his room because I could see the light on, spilling out through his door jambs. I ushered Sam into my room and he sat at my reading table. I didn’t bother to put on the light, and we got settled in the darkness of my room.

If this guy intended to stay the night, that meant we would most likely have sex. And that meant I couldn’t eat anything. To think that I’d been so hungry at the club… #sigh The troubles of a Bottom.

We talked for a bit, and then he said, “Can I kiss you?”

Hian! Should you even ask? Go ahead and kiss me already, oga.

I smiled and said yes. So, he stood up from the chair he was seated in and walked over to where I was on the bed. He sat next to me and kissed me.

Gosh! Those lips that always looked so good wrapped around his smile. We kissed and kissed and kissed, for a very long time. At some point, I’d been moved from the bed to sit astride him, on his laps, kissing him while running my hands through his hair.

The kiss was going on for a long time now, and I was starting to wonder if we would only be kissing all night, when he broke the kiss and leaned back a little to look me in the eyes.

Ashawo person! See fuckboy eyes that made me just want to pull my pants down and just get fucked mercilessly while begging for it.

He brought his mouth to my ear and I was pretty sure I heard him whisper, “Do you want to have sex?”

Baby Jesus, be a fence! Before nko?! Is kissing not supposed to lead to sex ni? And what’s with all this asking-asking upandan. Shey this one will be able to handle me? The way he’s doing like nwa mommy. Now, I was worried that I had misjudged him. Would this be the first fit guy who would disappoint me in bed?

I said yes, and then he proceeded to grab my bum while I was still seated on him and we started exploring each other’s bodies with our hands and mouths. I honestly couldn’t wait to touch this guy’s dick to find out what I’d be working with. I was tipsy from a long night of drinking, and I was horny and simply wanted to be fucked and banged and have my insides rearranged.

As he unbuttoned my shirt, he kept nibbling on my ears, turning up the fevered passion that had me in its grips. Then he set me down on the bed and began removing his clothes, while I divested myself of the rest of my clothes. He picked up his phone and put on a song. Of course, everyone has a sex playlist and tonight, we were going with his. He came back to the bed, and in the semi-darkness, I caught a glimpse of his erection.

Damn! Short guys be really packing, compensating down there for what they don’t have in height!

The song that started playing was Chike’s Forever featuring MI Abaga. Sam sang along as he took charge of my body – and trust me when I say that the lyrics of that song was doing things to me that were heightened by Sam’s touch.

Oh baby, when you need a shoulder, I’m your soldier

Even when you’re scared and cold, I’ll keep you warmer

You don’t really know how much that you mean to me

We’ll be together, this time forever

No matter the weather, this time forever

Sam was touching me everywhere, from my nipples to my neck and then ears, back down to my nose, nipples again, and navel. There were brief kisses on my shoulder and erotic nibbling of my ear lobes. In the darkness, I couldn’t see the expression on his face clearly, but there was a heat in his eyes that was so strong, it was almost visible and physical enough to stir my soul.

Like damn! If foreplay is this good, I wonder what the anal part of the sex will be like.

He kissed me lightly while running the fingers of one hand through my hair and using the other hand to bring my legs together to get entangled with his, and I was pinned down on the bed, underneath him. This guy was making me surrender all my body, and I loved it! He sure was in control and he knew what to do and where to touch on my body to bring out sharp, gasping moans from my mouth.

I tell people that if foreplay is top notch, then there isn’t any size of dick you won’t be able to take on. This guy was literally preparing me for what was to come, and I was savouring every moment because it was worth it. When it was time, I knew it and he knew it, and I was pointing to where the lubricant was. Moments later, I could feel the cold wetness of the lube being administered to my hole, after which the throbbing hardness of his dick followed suit. The missionary style had me wrapping my legs around his hips and my hands clutching at his back, his sides and his head at different times.

A man whose foreplay game is good communicates during sex to know how you are feeling, takes his time to make you feel thoroughly good as he strokes you, works his dick inside you with a skill that makes you wish he’ll never take back his dick when he’s leaving, makes you feel the pumping of his dick as he cums and the harshness of his breath as he spasms on top of you, says he wants to see you cum and keeps his eyes locked on yours as he pleasures you to a headlong rush to your own orgasm.

By the time we were through, when we were spent from one of the most amazing sex I’d ever had, my heart was beating wildly and my breathing was ragged and fast. It almost felt like I was having a heart attack.

Hay God, so na prick go kill me las-las!

My entire respiratory system was so haywire – I kid you not – that he had to place a hand on my chest, gently rubbing it and telling me to calm down. After about a couple of minutes, I regained a regulated breathing and the beating of my heart stabilized. And then, he laid his head on my chest and we cuddled for a bit, and all the while, I was thinking about how it had been a very long while since I had such mind-blowing (quite literally so) sex like this.

He was apparently as hungry after sex as I was, because he called a delivery place and ordered kebab and shawarma. He asked for my apartment name before he called, and gave the person on the other end the information needed to locate us. It wasn’t up to six minutes later and the delivery guy was ringing my bell. He offered to give me money to pay for the food, but I declined, saying I would pay for it. For some reason, he found this amusing enough to make him laugh.

We had the kebab together but he left the shawarma for me. Omo, come see as I dey chop like say I never chop since three days. I ate like I was trying to quench a ravenous hunger. When I was done, I packed the foils, the kebab sticks and tissues we used to one side on the floor and dropped back into the bed. I was thoroughly and pleasantly exhausted. And then, he gathered me into his arms and we slept off.

“Good night,” Sam said to me.

I barely got out my own good night from my mouth before I drifted off to sleep.

Written by Lanrey