LOVE AND SEX IN THE CITY (Episode 27)

I swayed in my seat as the Keke-Napep swerved rightward to circumvent a pothole on the centre of the road. The breeze from the warm Sunday morning fanned across my face as I typed away on the keypad of my Blackberry.

It’d been exactly two weeks since that other Sunday morning of my near kito experience, since the day I met Bryson. And all of those two weeks had been unimaginably idyllic. I was happy, very happy, the kind of happy that R&B crooners talked about in their songs, all because of the reemergence of Bryson in my life, and I was on my way to Yinka’s place to reacquaint myself with my friends and their lives, which I’d unintentionally stayed away from the past two weeks.

The speed of the Keke-Napep began to drop as the driver drew up toward a mild hold-up. A big truck, some vehicles ahead of us, was gradually pulling out onto the main road from an exit ramp, and its slow progress was causing a delay in the traffic. The lull in the strength of the draft allowed for the dewing of mild perspiration across my forehead, and I began fanning the magazine in my hand across my face, leaning back against the well-worn leather of the passenger seat.

Staring sightlessly at the traffic in front, I let my mind get transported to that Sunday two weeks ago.

“Hello, Declan, long time no see,” he’d greeted.

“Hello, Bryson, long time indeed,” I replied.

“You look well,” he said, letting his eyes drift lazily over my frame. “No, scratch that. You look amazing.”

I gave out a self-conscious laugh, wondering whether the burn on my cheeks was from the heat of the day or pleasure at his obvious admiration. “Me ke? Look amazing? Continue to wash me, you hear?”

“I’m not washing you o, I’m serious,” he said with a laugh of his own.

The sunlight appeared to bounce off the whites of his dentition, a reflection that was heightened by the pleasure in his eyes. I felt warmed from being on the receiving end of his gaiety.

“So where have you been all this while?” I queried, remembering the awkwardness that characterized our last company.

He shrugged. “Oh, here and there, doing this and that. My modeling has really picked up pace, and I’ve been doing a lot of traveling to keep up.”

“You don’t say,” I said with genuine appreciation. “That is good news. Adebola didn’t tell us you’d hit it big o.”

He gave a short sigh, before saying with a jerk of his head at me, “Are you going somewhere?”

Not even subtle, that change of subject, I thought. “Yes,” I answered. “Home. I came here to see someone, but she’s not around,” I lied.

“A she, huh?” he said with an amused lift of his brows. “Are you sure you’re not going home from overnight runs at your boyfriend’s place.”

I let out a short peal of laughter. “My boyfriend? I wish. I’m still as single as I was when we last met o.”

“Something I’ll never understand,” he said. “For a fine guy like you to remain unattached in this Lagos… Hmm…”

“Are you using style to chyke me, Bryson?” I said with a lift of my own brows.

He chuckled and waved a hand at me. “Come on in, let me give you a ride.”

Feeling a surge of pleasure wash over my insides, I skipped over to the passenger side of the car, got in beside him, and didn’t look back.

He didn’t give me a ride home, not then anyway. First he had some errands to run, and I very willingly agreed to accompany him to every one of them. We went to the dry cleaners, then the supermart, and then made some deliveries. And all the time in between, we chatted and laughed boisterously. It surprised me how easily we got along. Bryson had never been my friend; he was Adebola’s friend, and even though he hung out several times with the gang, interaction between him and I never exceeded the occasional share laughter, response to a question posed, and agreement on a point in a conversation. Even the impromptu quickie we had that night of Adebola’s party had left us feeling too awkward with each other to become closer. Then that fiasco of an evening at the joint happened, and he vanished from all of our lives.

It was way past noon by the time we finished with his errands, and then he suggested a swim to cool off. We were in Ogba then, and upon my acquiescence, he drove to a hotel there with a pool that was open to the public. There weren’t a lot of swimmers at the pool that afternoon, and minutes after our arrival, Bryson and I were stepping out of the changing stalls, clad only in briefs that would have to make do as swimming trunks.

Bryson’s body took my breath away. It wasn’t as though u hadn’t seen it before, but – Damn! The pikin is hot! He has a slight build, but the whipcord length of his physique seemed like it’d been hewn by a master craftsman. Observing his pronounced pecs, defined abs and the lean muscles of his thighs as he strutted to the pool caused me to draw in shallow breaths in a desperate attempt to will away an erection.

We splashed about in the pool for several minutes, the feel of the water incredibly soothing under the glare of the sun. Thereafter, we got comfortable on the poolside seats, and chattered on amidst a repast of drinks and fried meat.

It was getting on past 7pm when we decided to leave. We got dressed and he offered to drive me home. By the time we were done combating the traffic to get to my street, it was almost 8. The night was warm, and my neighborhood hummed with the air conditioners that were tucked in at the sides of the houses. Swaths of headlights from the occasional passing car swept over us as we sat in his car, clinging to the remnants of the great day we’d just had.

“Thanks for sparing so much of your time for me today,” he said after we were done laughing at something he’d said.

“It was my pleasure,” I replied, meaning every word.

There was silence then. He sat there. I waited.

“Did we even get to kiss that night that – er, erm…”

“That you made me drop my pants and showed me you are not strictly into pussy after all?” I said with a smile.

He chuckled. “Yes, that night… Did we get to kiss?”

“No, I don’t believe we did,” I said, suddenly feeling breathless.

“Well, it’s time we remedy that, don’t you think?”

It was dark in the car, and I could sense his gaze on my lips, just like I had mine trapped on his mouth. He closed a hand on the back of the passenger chair, his knuckles briefly brushing my shoulder blade. I swayed toward him, a tingling sensation spreading out over my skin from that point of contact.

And then he kissed me. He lifted his left hand and clasped my head with it to control the exact tilt of my head, and kissed me. Thoroughly. I wrapped my hands up around his neck and pressed as close to him as the gear compartment between our seats could permit. I opened my mouth to his and my response brought a muffled sound from his throat. Every breath, every move, every sound we made multiplied the intensity of the kiss, and when we broke apart, I was trembling.

“Wow…” I said shakily.

“Yea…” he replied, his breathing coming fast.

“That was no straight guy kiss, I’ll tell you that,” I said.

He laughed. I joined in. Then he said, “I’ll take that as a compliment, seeing as you’re the first guy I’ve ever kissed.”

He must have felt the skepticism in the look I gave him, because he sighed and said, “Of course you don’t believe me. It’s true though. It’s you… I don’t know… I… It’s the reason…” He sighed again. “Never mind,” he finished.

I took that as my cue, and turned away to open the car door.

“So I’ll see you again soon?”

“You bet,” I replied with a dazzling smile.

And we did see again. And again. And again. Nearly every day for the following two weeks, we spent some time together. On week days, Bryson would be waiting with his car to pick me up at the close of work, from whence we’d proceed to an evening of hanging out, and subsequent making out whenever we could manage it. Last Saturday and yesterday, I spent them with him in his world of fabrics, make-up and photo shoots.

And last Sunday was when we had sex. This second time had none of the first time’s quick hump and grind. It wasn’t the best sex I’d ever had either, but it came very close.

It was at my place. My parents were out for a family friend’s Thanksgiving, that kind of function that I was positive would keep them away till nighttime. Fabian had earlier traveled to Port Harcourt, and Tonia was spending the weekend at her fiancé’s.

Bryson and I pounced on each other the moment he was in the house. We somehow made it upstairs to my bedroom, kissing and grasping at each other and divesting ourselves of our clothing. Then we tumbled into my bed, a tangle of naked limbs. We kissed ferociously some more before I went for his nipples, big, dark brown and fully erect. While I sucked on them, he made sounds of pleasure. Then I lowered my face down his chest and my tongue found its way to his navel. I played on it with my fingers and tongue, and he pressed my mouth against it. While I inhaled his manly odour in the pubic hair, I finally touched his dick, which was already swollen with my lovemaking. There was no urine smell but a sexual aroma as I took it into my mouth. He groaned as he thrust deeper into my mouth. His dick was oozing lots of precum and I savoured each drop of it as I licked and sucked. He made sounds and his fingers grasped my head and dug into my hair. Then I took his hairy balls in my mouth and sucked them while my fingers snaked up to twiddle with his nipples.

He thrashed about on the bed, enduring the sweet torture for a few moments before he pulled me up to lock my lips with his, sucking into his mouth all of his essence which I’d taken in from below.

Just then, the power went off and the fan came to a halt. The heat of the early afternoon and the one generated by our bodies unleashed a heavy perspiration on us. As we writhed about on the bed, our bodies turned slick with sweat. The sheets on the bed quickly became damp, but we were too overtaken with desire to notice.

“It’s my turn now,” he finally grunted against my mouth. “I want to suck every part of your body.”

And he promptly climbed on top of me. He began kissing my face, neck and then my nipples. With my hands caressing his wet back, I felt as if I would explode when his mouth sucked my nipples. I felt as if I had beautiful breasts and he was milking it. In between gasping breaths, I asked him to go slow or I would cum. He proceeded to lick my navel and my balls. The moment his moist hands touched my dick, it started oozing precum. Bryson licked it and soon, the entire length of my penis was in his hot mouth. He used one of his hands to jerk my dick into his mouth, while the other hand played with my nipples. The feeling of his hot saliva and playful tongue on my penis made me mad with pleasure, especially when he introduced one of his fingers into my hole. The finger worked into my interiors and I moaned with the divine sensation. As his mouth and finger continued to play, I gasped as my orgasmic rush surged through my groin. I could not hold it back, and I gave a sharp cry, my body jerking violently as I shot out my cum.

He instantly pulled back as one, two, three, four streams of hot cum spurted, splashing his mouth, face and chest. I was still pulsating when he chuckled. “Nawa o,” he said. “All this thing has been inside you since?”

“Just waiting for you to release it,” I panted.

We laughed. Then he said almost shyly, “I want to fuck your ass… Can I?”

I smiled at him as I said, “Do you even have to ask?”

Seconds later, he was unfurling a coil of condom over his dick and lubricating both his shaft and my hole. Then he gently began to push his way inside me. The hurt that came from the entry racheted up my body from my anus, intensified by both the fact that I’d already released and that I was still healing from my mishap with Paschal. However, I gritted my teeth and rode the pain till it lapsed. And then the thrilling sensation of his dick inside me became too overwhelming for me to notice any discomfort.

“Are you okay?” he enquired when he was fully inside. The concern in his voice was apparent.

“Yes, I am,” I said reassuringly. “Just fuck me, baby. Fuck me really good.”

He gave a soft laugh. “Well, let’s give that a try then.”

He began to steadily thrust in and out of me. Both his arms encircled my body and his fingers played with my navel. His thrusts soon became harder and faster, and I could feel the warmth of his deep breath on my ears which he took in his mouth and sucked. For several moments, he pounded against me, heaving up and down and racing toward his orgasm. That came soon enough. His thrusts became more urgent, faster, harder, and his body clenched on top of me. Then he gave a harsh groan as he hugged me tightly. He stiffened, and I could feel his dick pulsing madly inside my hole.

Moments after his ejaculation, we remained still, just the way we were, him on top of me. Then he expelled a breath and rolled away from me, dropping onto the bed beside me.

Then he said the words that put a new song in my heart: “Declan, you have to be mine. Will you be my boyfriend?”

***

“Oga, we don reach o,” the voice of the driver, whose Keke-Napep I’d chartered to bring me to Yinka’s house, pulled me out of my reverie.

I shook my head to clear the wool, and straightened my face from whatever goofy expression I suspected must have been on it, a byproduct of thoughts of Bryson.

Then I climbed down from the vehicle, paid the driver and made my way into the compound. As I approached the section of the building that was the location of Yinka’s quarters, I could hear raised voices coming from there as the occupants of the living room argued boisterously about something.

I got to the front threshold, and noticed that the door was ajar as I pulled open the metal protector.

“This is bullshit!” Ekene exploded. “You can’t honestly think that Bisi Alimi was anything short of brave when he came out on national television like that – I mean, that was an incredibly courageous thing –”

“That he didn’t have to do,” Jonathan cut in. ‘closets are a good place to be in, especially for Nigerians. Our society is just not ready for such random acts of – well, bravery.” He said the word like what he actually meant to say was ‘foolishness.’ “That bill that the Senate just passed is proof of that.”

“That bill that the Senate just passed is proof of nothing but the disregard our legislators have for the minority, and their cowardice in tackling the real issues of this country.”

Seven pairs of eyes swiveled and settled on me as I finished speaking. There was a wide smile on my face as I added, “Hello, guys.”

“Says the ghost of Declan past,” retorted Biola.

“I miss you too, Biola,” I shot back with a grin.

He snorted in response.

“I talk am!” Eddie burst out then, emerging from their midst and approaching me. “I said it! I said that the only reason Declan has been MIA is because he’s getting browsed by Kporo – did I not say it, Yinka. Oya, spill!” As I laughed, he continued, “See? He’s even laughing like someone just finished fingering him before sending him off to meet us. Pikin, gist us what’s up jaré!”

Because I was protesting his claims, the stares on me from the others quickly became rapt.

I inhaled deeply. I hadn’t planned on breaking the news of my new relationship this way – but, here goes. “You guys remember Bryson, right?”

Adebola’s gaze instantly sharpened. “Which Bryson? My Bryson?”

“Your straight boy fucker?” Biola interjected with a wicked grin.

“Will you stop saying nonsense, Biola!” Adebola rounded on him.

“What! It’s true. He’s straight, he fucked Dee. What does that make him, my people?”

“A straight boy fucker!” Yinka, Ekene and Paschal chorused laughingly.

“Oya, oya, calm down,” Eddie said, gesturing for quiet. “Declan has more to say.”

Attention was refocused on me.

“Well, I ran into him two weeks ago, and we’ve been spending a lot of time together. Hanging out, making out and having sex. Last Sunday, he asked me to be his boyfriend, and I said yes.”

The silence that followed my words was complete. Two seconds ticked by as they stared speechlessly at me, before Adebola erupted in a hissing snarl, “You skanky bitch!”

Written by Pink Panther