BEHIND THE SCENES

It’s not news that the entertainment industry is saturated with queer people, and my friends always thought it was weird that someone like me with a movie star veteran for a godfather had never even kissed a celebrity. I was often in the company of my godfather, often going to movie sets and photo shoots with him, and my friends all thought that hanging with him as often as I did means that I’d have direct access to the hottest guys in the industry. You know how people think; just as people believe that you hanging out with celebrities must mean you automatically have money and you have “blown”. Whenever I protested that the fact that I was frequently with my godfather mingling in the movie scene didn’t mean that I was also busy getting familiar with hot male celebrities and having my pick of who to get down with, they mostly wouldn’t believe me, dismissing my claims as me being modest or “forming”.

But in actual fact, my godfather was often very protective of me. As a veteran, he knew how ugly the celebrity scene can be and always strived to protect me from the craziness and wildness of the industry. Not like I needed any protecting. But well, he’s like a father to me. He wouldn’t let me go to celebrity parties alone. I used to be a creative content creator and professional Latin dancer, but it was inevitable that I’d catch the acting bug; and when I began getting roles, my godfather would always keep tabs on my activities on the movie sets. It was adorable, his sense of responsibility over me, but it also hampered my lifestyle.

My career as an actor soon picked up, and I was doing a lot of work, from the overly-pampered, naive kid from a wealthy family, to the homeless, street-grown teenager, from the fashion-forward office worker to the single child of a disturbed mother. And with the blooming career came more breathing space from the doting attention of my godfather. I started mingling more, getting to know everybody that mattered. I would like to say my demand was mostly because I am good at what I do (which I am), but it was also because of my godfather’s influence. I got more roles. I got invites to premieres and exclusive parties.

And then, I finally met the famous “gang” of industry hot guys. You know, those guys who are desired by every thirsty girl and guy in Nigeria, and whose sexualities are frequently debated in the media and the gaybourhood… Yes. Them. They are good looking. They are glamorous. They have loads of sex appeal. And they are players.

I quickly became friends with them, often hanging out with them as it seemed they’d taken me under their wing as their little brother. That brother-zoning meant none of them hit on me or made any sexual advances toward me. They’d often talk about their sexcapades, about the guys and girls they’d run things with. There was this one time when one big-shot lady had come to the house where we were all hanging out, apparently on a sex appointment, and refused to come into the house until the girl already inside had left. And since the girl wasn’t ready to leave, they refused to oblige the woman, and so, she left in a huff. And one of them was like, “She no fit chop am finish na. The dick plenty for everybody to share. Guys, babes – they no fit finish am, naim this one dey do monopoly.”

Yes. These guys were players. And even though I recognized how emotionally risky it would be for me to get sexually involved with any of them, considering how fast and loose they played, I was still kind of frustrated by their brotherliness toward me. We’d sleep on the same bed and nobody would touch me. I’d walk around in their houses with just my briefs on – and oh! I have a great twinkish body on me with the perfect bubble butt – and still nothing!

This brother-zoning was serious ghan!

Then came the fateful evening when, after spending the entire day with the “gang”, I told them I had to hurry back home, seeing as I was home alone and didn’t want to stay out that night. I live with my sisters in our family house and they’d all gone out of Lagos on a family retreat, but I didn’t because of work.

The one I found most attractive amongst them – let’s call him X – observed that he hadn’t ever come to visit me before. He told me he’d come over later that night, and that since I’d be all by myself, he would be coming to keep me company. Now this guy is gorgeous. Hot. Great physique, the kind of bulky build that wraps around you in a cuddle that makes you feel very loved. He’s also got a great career with stints on international TV platforms. Hearing him say he wanted to come and keep me company in a house where we’d be alone had my heart pounding double time.

Then again, he may just be coming along to be the big brother or something. He’d after all said he would be coming with dinner and weed. Either way, I figured it would be nice to spend the night with him, even if it wouldn’t be the kind of night I wanted to spend with him.

He came over really late though, around a few minutes past midnight. I was already dozing off when I got a call from him saying he was at the estate gate. I spoke to the security and they let him through. About ten minutes later, he was in. Without food. Uncle came with just weed. So, I had to whip up something real quick for us to eat. And we smoked, drank and gisted.

As these things are wont to happen, after a few drinks, our conversation somehow veered toward the sexual. X was talking about his dick size and venting about how he wasn’t getting enough, how boys complain about the girth of his dick. He was like, “They always complain about the size. Nobody can take this dick and not complain. I think it’s because of the way I stroke, I like it hard and fast and I don’t cum quick.”

At this point, he started talking about his stroking game, and how he can snatch your soul from eating your ass and all that. I was getting incredibly turned on by this, but I didn’t dare let on for fear that he might suddenly realise he was talking to his “little brother” and pull back. So, I laughed, feigning disbelief and told him he was lying, that he couldn’t do shit. Feeling challenged by my disbelief, he demanded for a chance to prove it. And before I knew it, I was saying yes to what I can’t even remember and my pants were coming off and X was having a go at my man-pussy.

He was right. He was very good at eating ass. I was there on the ground, pinned in place by the pleasure his tongue and lips were wreaking from my ass to all other nerve endings in my body. I was gasping from the sensations and every muscle in my body was a-quiver with pleasure. Then he moved upward and claimed my lips in a kiss. He wasn’t a great kisser, but what he lacked in skill, he made up for in enthusiasm. While still making out, he hefted me in his arms and took me to the kitchen, just walking around, my slender body wrapped in his bulky frame, kissing as we went. From the kitchen, we moved to my room.

That was when we broke off the making out, so he’d have a shower. And then we came back to each other in a 69. We sucked each other off for a while, before I reached further in and dug into his asshole. This would be my first time rimming anyone, and I found myself enjoying it, especially when he moaned and bucked from the pleasure I was paying him back with. I liked the fact that I was able to make him give up control entirely and beg for more. And then, we went on to having sex. He initially wanted me to ride him. But I had a very hard time sitting on him because I’d been celibate for a while. Add to that the fact that he wasn’t kidding when he said he had a really big dick. It was thick, wide, veiny and very angry. That thing was an ass destroyer and I could then imagine why guys complained after being with him.

After a lot of failed attempts at riding him, X heaved a frustrated sigh and flipped me over, taking over. He came on top of me and began going at it, hard and fast, just like he said he liked to do it. It hurt about as much as it pleased me. At some point though, I was done, but this uncle was yet to cum. I was soon begging him to stop. He obliged, his manner one of someone who had heard “Please stop” many times in his fucking career. We showered, and returned to bed, sleeping off in that cuddle I’d always imagined having with him.

When I woke up the next morning, and I took a good long look at the piece of hunk stretched out beside me on the bed, I smiled to myself, because I was now sure that last night hadn’t been a dream. X and I had really had sex. It felt surreal. I’d finally fucked a celebrity! Feeling giddy with delight, I slid down his body to where his flaccid dick lay and took him in my mouth. He woke up to my blow job, and immediately began to face-fuck me until he came.

Then I cooked breakfast, we ate together, hugged and I followed him outside where I opened the gate for him to leave.

We haven’t hooked up since then. I mean, there’s been an upgrade in our relationship, with lots of flirting and nasty talks (certainly no longer the little brother to him). And generally, our friendship has remained good. Even though I am hoping for a repeat performance. Who knows, this time I might be the one to get him all the way to his orgasm inside me.

Written by Baby Boy