MY NYSC CAMP SEXPERIENCE

It all started at the camp gate where soldiers, the police and camp officials were searching corps members. I arrived at around 12 noon with two female prospective corps members that I’d gotten acquainted with in the bus during the drive over. The girls and every other corps members were allowed to get past the gate to the terminal where their luggage would be searched – all of them at that point in time except me.

I sensed trouble when a female soldier stopped me just before the terminal and asked me to follow her with my luggage. She took me to one of the booths at the gate, and her first question was if I smoke. I was startled by the question, didn’t know what to make of it. Then I replied no. She asked me to open my palms. I did. She asked me to show her my nails. I did this as well. Then she asked me to open the locks of my bag. Again I obeyed. She carefully searched every nook of my bag and my clothes, even the pockets.

When she didn’t find whatever incriminating thing she was hoping to find, she turned to me and asked me why my lips are so dark. Lol. That was when I knew what she was looking for. And due to the ignorance that led to her unfair treatment of me, I found myself rapidly losing my cool. My temper descended swiftly and the expression on my face changed. I didn’t mind her uniform anymore and I just then decided to no longer respond to any more questions that would come from her.

Then a voice from a car that was driving past called out something in Hausa, and the female soldier whirled around to face the owner; she promptly saluted and responded in Hausa. I didn’t turn to see who was talking to her; instead I was busy putting my bag back in order.

Then I heard the car pull up, and turned in time to see a light-skinned, muscular and good-looking soldier of average height emerge from the car. Our eyes met, and he gestured to me, asking me to come with him.

In the next few minutes that passed, he facilitated my accreditation. Before he left, he took my phone and keyed in his number, asking me to call him if I need any more assistance. He told me his name is Idris. I told him my name. And then he was off, leaving me to carry on by myself.

After arranging my things in the hostel and making my bed, I commenced with the second segment of accreditation which was the ICT Registration. When I got to the venue for the registration, I met a multitude of corps members waiting on queues of about ten lines that appeared to move once in every two hours. Trying not to be disheartened, I joined a line and began waiting for my turn that seemed like it’d take forever to come. My problem was not the stagnancy of the line, nor was it the hot sun blazing mercilessly down on us. My problem was the yeye soldiers and their tyranny over those of us waiting patiently in the queues. They’d be harassing us with barked orders like “Sit on the ground!”, “Carry your file on your head!”, all that verbal abuse. As if that wasn’t enough, they began checking our countenances to know those who were frowning or not responding ebulliently to their bullying; then they’d order them to leave their positions and go to the back of the line, no matter how close they were to the ICT unit. I was always so obviously displeased with their antics, and consequently, was asked to go to the back many times because I refused to “smile while suffering”.

When I couldn’t bear the harassment anymore, I started sorting for Plan B, which involved bribing one of the camp officials to grant me easy pass into the ICT office; most corpers were already doing that. But my efforts were an exercise in futility.

And then, all of a sudden, I remembered Idris and the last thing he said to me when he dialed his number with my phone. I quickly brought out my phone to call him, but couldn’t find his number in my call log. Suddenly remembering that I’d earlier changed my sim in attempt to get a stronger network without saving the number, I cussed at myself. I hated myself for my thoughtlessness, not just because I couldn’t get Idris to help me, but also because I couldn’t get to know his intentions.

In the end, it took me two days before I could do the ICT registration.

Fast forward to five days later, when I had lost any hope of reconnecting with Idris and even gone on to forget about him, he resurfaced.

It was a Sunday evening; I went to the mami market to eat, along with a new friend I made in camp. We were scanning the market to know which kitchen to eat from that evening, when came a deep voice calling my name from one of the kitchens. The tone of the voice sounded angry. I turned to know who was calling. Lo and behold, it was him, my long lost helper.

I was filled with so much joy when I saw him, it surprised me. I had to fight to keep the pleasure from my face as I excused myself from my friend and went to meet him. He was seated with one other soldier and three female corpers. I greeted them, but he appeared so angry, he didn’t respond to me. Instead, he asked me why I didn’t call him as he told me. I explained my reason to him and apologized for not saving his number. Then I thanked him again for his assistance that first day.

Seeming mollified, he asked me to take seat. He introduced me to the other soldier as his Igbo friend. Conversation broke out as he made me order for my meal. Eventually we were all done, and he paid for all the food and drinks consumed at the table. While we were eating though, I was very relieved when I learned from our conversation that none of the girls at the table was with him. As we got up and began leaving the kitchen, with my phone handy, I asked him to call his number for me so that I would save it this time. He declined and asked me to call mine so that he would call me sometime instead. And like that, firmer contact was established.

By 10 am the next day, in my attempt to dodge SAED lectures, I fell into an awkward moment in the bathroom (story for another day). When I came out from the bathroom, the soldiers are already pursuing people out from the hostel, so that when I entered the hostel, one of the soldiers said he would give me two minutes to dress up and leave the hostel. I didn’t respond ”YES SIR” as we’d been instructed to answer whenever we were given an instruction. Predictably, the soldier was offended by my ‘insolence’, and began shouting and cussing at me. I stayed unperturbed by his display of temper, hoping he would finish and be gone so I’d stay back in the hostel.

But no. This one was just mean and was determined to wait for me to get dressed and leave the hostel. Long story short, the issue escalated to the point where he was screaming that he would take me to he guard room because I was being too stubborn.

At this point, I feigned a shiver. And then another, and another. And right before their eyes (it wasn’t just him in the hostel, there were about three of them), I was shaking like I was in the clutches of a fever. Their faces registered alarm when they saw me shivering, and they began asking if I was sick, saying I shouldn’t have taken my bath yet since the weather was still so cold. Right as they were talking, I dropped to the ground in a feigned faint. They panicked. One of them suggested carrying me to the clinic, but the hot-headed one refused and said I may go to the clinic and twist the story of what happened. They concluded that they’d take me to their hostel and cater to me until I was fine.

So between the three of them, they managed to get me to their hostel. Idris was there, clad in mufti. In Hausa, he asked them what the problem was. They replied. He signaled for them to take me to his quarters. They did, and he asked them to leave us, that he would handle the situation. They laid me on his bed and left. And Idris locked the door behind them.

I was determined to finish what I’d started, so even when the soldiers left, I didn’t stop shivering. The weather helped; it was quite cold, so there was just no telling that I was faking it.

When Idris locked the door, my heart picked up a faster beat. For all my attraction to him, I feared the worst. I wasn’t sure I was ready for whatever erotic shenanigans, and I didn’t want it to happen between us without my consent. Outwardly though, I didn’t let my unease show; I was too busy being sick. He came over to me and carefully undressed me, leaving on just the small pant I was putting on. Then he went to a backpack lying on a chair and brought out a small container from it. He poured some of its content on his palm and started rubbing both palms together over the container’s content. As I watched him do, I began to develop an erection. I didn’t want that, so I began to silently will the hard-on away, looking away from Idris to curb my arousal.

He came to where I was lying and started massaging the whole of my body with the ointment rubbed around on his palms. As he worked, he concentrated on my hands, palms, legs and ribs, while the pleasing smell of the ointment assailed my nose, causing me to wonder whether it was olive or coconut oil. But then his ministrations wouldn’t let me focus on the innocuous thought. His hands were working some magic on my body, and I almost moaned out loud from the pleasure of his touch.

When he was satisfied with the temperature of my body, he stopped. I’d also stopped shivering. He dressed me up with his trouser and sweater to keep me warm, and then spread a blanket over me.

Then he went and unlocked the door, before coming to sit beside me on the bed. He took my hand and called my name while squeezing it gently. I answered with feigned weakness and opened my eyes to meet his. He smiled at me. I smiled back, and then closed my eyes, quickly drifting off to sleep.

I eventually woke up, and while I spent the day with Idris in his quarters, I became convinced that he was just a very nice person and had no ulterior designs for me. Bearing this in mind, I allowed myself to be persuaded to pass the night in his quarters. Nothing happened that night, and in the days that followed, a friendship developed between the two of us. We talked and I learned some things about him, like how he only slept in the camp on Sunday and Monday nights.

Then came an evening during movie time (we were made to go to the multipurpose hall to see a movie any night we didn’t have any night programs or events), he called me to let me know he was in the camp, and asked me to come see him at his quarters. This was unusual; aside from the day I faked being sick, we’d only met at the mami market. I didn’t give it much thought though. I told him the soldiers wouldn’t let me pass their stations. So he asked where I was so he could come and get me. I told him I was in the hall. He asked me to go wait for him at the pavilion so that he could locate me easily. I told my friend who I was with that I was leaving, and slipped out of the hall to meet Idris.

In his quarters, we were chatting; at a point, he asked me how many girls I had gotten involved with. I told him none. He asked me why and I told him that there was no need since we may end up not getting posted to the same local government area; moreover there was no privacy in the camp, I pointed out, so having a girlfriend here would be of no use. He laughed at that, and asked jokingly how I was managing the cold weather. I told him I have my sweaters and blanket.

With another laugh, he said with mock wonder, “So you haven’t had sex with anyone yet…”

Laughing too, I replied, “As if it’s possible in this regimented environment.”

“You can’t be serious,” he said.

“I am. You sef, check it na. How possible will it be?”

“Well, you’re right,” he conceded. “But could you if you had opportunity?”

“If I’m in the right state of mind,” I said.

“Could you try new things in bed?” he suddenly asked.

At this point, I’d have to be a blithering fool not to know where this conversation was going. So Idris was not just a nice person after all, I thought as I answered, “Yea, once that new thing turns me on.”

He laughed. “Bad boy!” He didn’t say anything for a few moments, merely breathing heavily. I imagined his heart was beating wildly at this point, as he mentally navigated the potentially treacherous waters of seducing his fellow man.

Finally, he said, “I need your help with something… And please don’t say no.”

I was a consenting adult. So I replied, “I won’t say no. I promise.”

He got up from the bed, went over to lock the door, and then motioned me to stand. I did. He came over to me and embraced me, hugging me so tight, I could feel his bulge against my thigh. I couldn’t fight my hard-on either. I didn’t want to. I returned the hug, holding him just as tight as he was holding me.

I believe my response and the feel of my hard-on gave him the impression that the so-called “new thing” was turning me on, because then, he reached for my lips and kissed me. I kissed him back. The kiss caught fire, and we were straining against each other, smooching and grasping at our bodies. Suddenly, my feet were off the ground and he was carrying me and slamming me against the wall. I wrapped my legs around his waist while we continued furiously exploring our mouths.

After some minutes, he heated me again and carefully placed me on the bed. Clothes and belts were torn off. We were naked and I was grabbing his dick. It was so big, thick, long and slightly curved. I slithered down and began sucking him; I tried to deep-throat him, but the dick was just too damn big. My mouth could only take in just a few inches past the head. So I gave that up and focused on sucking what inches I could wrap my mouth around.

After some minutes, he took over from me. He sucked every part of me, his mouth and tongue firing up every nerve ending on my body that I had to fight not to moan out loud. Eventually, he let up and got up from the bed. He went to his backpack and brought out the same oil he used to massage me days ago, and a pack of condoms. He opened one condom and gave it to me to put it on him. I shook my head at him, saying there was no way I would take him in. Without argument, he put the condom on me, applied the oil on my dick and on his ass, and then laid face down and bottom up. I took some of the oil and lubricated his butt some more, and then I made for his hole. I fingered him first with one finger, then two. I was trying to insert the third finger when he flinched. I stopped and applied some more lubrication on my dick and his ass, and then gradually began to go in. Gently back and forth, I went till I was completely in. And then, for the next few minutes, I thrust away at his ass, both of us grunting with the exertion. I banged him for a few minutes, and then he signaled me to stop. He turned and laid back down, his legs up. I slid back in and began simultaneously banging and wanking him.

It didn’t take long at this point; he started shooting his cum. His moans and the force with which the cum shot out took me to my climax and I came too, dropping on top of him and trembling as I shot my load.

After the shag, there were no cuddles, no loving pillow talk. I dressed up and after our goodbyes, I left. Before I got to the multipurpose hall, my phone beeped.

I checked the message and it read: Thanks bro.

Written by Woody