DOWN LOW (EPISODE 18)

Martin titled his head up towards the shower head, allowing the cool water to slide over his face to trickle down his body. It felt good, but not as good as Rotimi’s body had felt sliding against him. His body hardened as he remembered the feeling of Rotimi’s thick dick pulsing inside him. He slid a soapy finger down and inside him and moaned. Christ, it hadn’t even been up to ten minutes and here he was aroused again.

He sighed as he soaped himself. His love life was a literal mess of his own making. There was no reason why Rotimi, the man who had cheated on him and abandoned him five years ago, should currently be in his bedroom a few feet away, after just recently being in his very guts. Well, there was a reason, but Martin wasn’t sure if bomb sex was a good ENOUGH reason to become Booboo the Fool. It wasn’t as if he was a stranger to mind-blowing sex; his dance instructor Ricardo had constantly laid it down every other weekend, and then there was Emeka. Martin instantly flashed back and remembered the feel of his boss’s tongue in his asshole and his warm mouth over his member. He shook his head, banishing all thoughts of Emeka to the recesses of his mind. That was another issue that he would tackle some other time. Right now, Rotimi was what needed his attention, what with him currently being in his bed and all.

So yes, the sex with Rotimi had been amazing in the past, and was amazing now (at least, this off-day he’d taken from work was oh-so worth it), but he was used to amazing sex. So why did he capitulate so easily? Why did he welcome Rotimi, who had emotionally destroyed him, back into his life and his bed just like that? Oh, if Siji could see him now…

Martin giggled as he remembered Siji’s gruff warning to him a little more than a week ago: If I find out that you carried your two legs to see him, I will personally beat you up.

Well, you had better whip out the koboko, my friend, Martin thought with a smile. Boy, did he have gist for Siji.

He turned off the water and began to towel himself dry. Maybe it was nostalgia over their history, or maybe he’d simply missed the sex, but one thing was certain: he was completely over Rotimi. There was no love involved on his part anymore, and this just-concluded sexual encounter between them was proof of this. In the past, whenever they had sex, Martin had always felt something, a glow, a warmth in his heart that would accompany the explosion of sensation his orgasm would bring.

But now, he felt nothing but the exquisite pleasure.

So yeah, somebody was going to have to break this down to Rotimi, this one that he was talking about “It’s always been you” and “I’m so glad we’re back together”. He must be joking. Or lying. He did have a reputation for that anyway. Or maybe it was the post-sex euphoria.

Martin stepped out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, his towel hanging low on his narrow waist. Rotimi, lounging on his bed, deliciously naked, looked up from his phone and grinned.

Damn, but this man was fine, Martin thought.

“Hey sexy, I missed you,” Rotimi said, his eyes falling to Martin’s towel-clad hips, and he licked his lips.

“Hey yourself,” Martin replied, forcing himself to ignore the swelling of Rotimi’s cock. “The bathroom is all yours.”

“I want to be all yours instead.”

Martin cringed and was about to respond, but Rotimi had already closed the distance between them and was pressing his large naked body against his. He captured Martin’s mouth in a kiss and he moaned, the towel dropping from his hips. Rotimi slid his hands to Martin’s derriere and cupped his ass cheeks as his tongue invaded Martin’s mouth. Martin moaned helplessly, wrapping his arms around Rotimi’s shoulders and pressing his body against his.

God, this felt good.

Rotimi deftly parted Martin’s ass cheeks and slid a finger inside. Martin groaned, and Rotimi softly bit his bottom lip. He pushed the finger deeper and Martin began to whimper.

“I can’t take this for too long,” Martin groaned.

“I know, but can you take this?” Rotimi spun Martin around and slammed his turgid erection against his ass crack. Martin pushed back against him and Rotimi slid his erection over his butthole and ass cheeks, thrusting against him hard.

The doorbell rang loudly and unexpectedly, jarring the both of them back to reality.

“Get into the bathroom now,” Martin hissed, pulling away from Rotimi. “I’m coming!” he yelled, hoping his voice had carried to the front door. Who the heck was this? One of these silly neighbours of his perhaps?

The doorbell rang again as he pulled on his boxer briefs and a t-shirt.

“I’m coming o!” he yelled again, hurrying to the front door. He peeked through the spyglass and gasped. He promptly yanked open the door. “Ricardo! What on earth are you doing here?”

Ricardo blinked in surprise. “Oh wow, I really wasn’t expecting you to be home. I just rang the doorbell to try my luck because I noticed the lights were on.” He sighed. “It’s been quite a while.”

“I actually thought you’d left the country already,” Martin said, his eyes roaming over the other man’s lean physique, toned by years of vigorous dance and aerobics. He looked really good in a pair of form-fitting black jeans and a burnt-orange sleeveless vest that made his cream-coloured skin glow.

“Well, if you really cared to find out, you would have known I was still very much around. Moving countries and changing nationalities takes quite a bit of time,” Ricardo responded drily.

“I’m sorry, it’s not like that,” Martin said, feeling quite guilty. “Come inside, let’s talk.”

“I’d rather not. I just planned to slip this letter under your door and scram.” He waved a rectangular turquoise envelope. “Everything I feel and need to say is in there.”

“What about the things I need to say and the things I feel?”

Ricardo smiled wryly. “You have my number. If you really wanted to say anything to me, you would have called.”

Wow, OK, I deserve that, Martin thought, stung.

“Is this really how you want us to part forever?” he asked, feeling like scum. “Come in for a bit. Please?”

Ricardo ran his hand through his soft dark-brown curls and sighed. “OK, sure.”

He came in and sat down on the couch gingerly while Martin got out juice from the fridge and a half-finished bottle of groundnuts.

He poured Ricardo a glass and began to speak. “To the honest, I really should have reached out to you, and I actually wanted to. But I really didn’t know what to say to you. Everything was so easy and simple until –”

“I ruined everything and caught feelings, right?” Ricardo interjected.

“No!” Martin protested.

Ricardo shook his head. “I ruined it. It’s the truth. What we had was never meant to be anything more than what it was, but I was the one who allowed myself to see you beyond the sex and I loved what I saw. And then I went and fell in love with you.”

“Ricardo…” Martin began.

Ricardo placed a slender finger over his lips, silencing him. “I fell in love with you, but you didn’t or couldn’t fall in love with me. It’s fine. These things happen. But what hurts the most is how you seemed to cut me off the instant I declared my feelings for you. It hurt.”

“I didn’t! I already told you, I didn’t know what to say to you!”

“It’s fine, really it is. I have already said everything in this letter.” He placed the turquoise envelope on the centre table. “But I have already said the gist of it; we fooled around, I caught feelings, you didn’t, it hurt, and you discarded me because you didn’t want to deal with my messy feelings.”

“For God’s sake, I didn’t discard –”

“Protest and deny all you want, but that is how I feel. It may or may not be true, but fact is, I felt discarded. But it is fine, it really is.” Ricardo looked at his watch and stood up. “I really ought to get going. My flight is tonight and I have so much yet to do.”

“Wow.” Martin gaped. “So this is it?”

Ricardo shrugged. “I guess so.”

Martin stood up and wrapped his arms around Ricardo’s lithe, taut frame. “I’ll miss you, Ricky.”

Ricardo responded with a hug of his own and kissed Martin’s cheek. “Will you miss me or the sex?”

“You, goddamnit!” Martin ground out and grabbed Ricardo’s surprised face and kissed him. They stood there in Martin’s living room, locked in each other’s embrace as sunlight danced around them, for an indeterminate amount of time, until a gruff voice broke the silence.

“Wow! Martin, really?”

Their lips separated with a smacking sound and they turned to face an outraged Rotimi. He was standing in the doorway leading towards the bedroom.

“Ah,” Ricardo sighed. “No wonder you were home on a weekday.”

“Shut up,” Martin snapped. He turned to face Rotimi, who was wearing nothing but his denim shorts, and hated himself for wanting to run his hands over his chest. “Rotimi, I’m sorry, but it is what it is. You didn’t really expect my life to be vacant for you to just walk back in, did you?”

“I think I should be leaving…” Ricardo mumbled.

“Not like this, no!” Martin cried out in dismay.

“Who the fuck is this guy?” Rotimi growled.

“It’s none of your business. Look, Rotimi, I missed you. I really did. It was nice seeing you after all these years. And the sex was amazing –”

“OK, I really should go…” Ricardo sidled towards the door, but Martin’s hand flashed out and captured his arm in a vice-like grip.

“But we can’t pick up wherever you think you left off,” he continued, addressing Rotimi. “You broke my heart, Rotimi. And I can’t give you the opportunity to do that again. You should get your shirt and start going.”

“Come on, Martin, didn’t I say that we should start over?” Rotimi said, his eyes suddenly moist. “I’m really sorry for the past and I want us to start over. I love you.”

“Wow…” Ricardo whispered.

“I don’t, Rotimi. I’m not the same person I was five years ago.” Martin speared him with a direct gaze. “You really should get going.”

Rotimi pursed his lips, hurt etched into his face and he nodded. “I’ll leave now, but this is not over.” He marched into the room, grabbed his shirt and stalked out of the house.

Ricardo blinked and looked at Martin. Martin looked at him, embarrassed, and buried his face in Ricardo’s chest.

“Oh Ricky… You dodged one heck of a bullet. You really did,” he whispered into his orange vest.

Ricardo lifted his face.

“Well, you’re one heck of a bullet to be hit by,” he said, then lowered his lips to meet Martin’s.

Written by Santa Diaba