OGUN (Loving Of The Gods: 2)

FOREWORD: Because of the how much fun I had writing the story, Amadioha, I decided to expand it into a miniseries about a young homosexual man who keeps getting sexed by deities. Last episode was Amadioha. Today, it is Ogun. Who knows what god’s penis tomorrow may reveal?

*

My feet race down the dark tracks, my heart pounding as I run. Whatever is that thing, that person, that phenomenon that scares me this much, that makes me want to flee and never stop running, I wonder. I find no answer in my mind, only a rising sense of urgency that lends wings to my flight.

The path opens to a wider road with torches mounted at sporadic intervals. The thick black smoke from the torches fills my eyes and nose and mouth. I cough, a harsh choking sound, but I do not stop running. Behind me, I hear the rustle of a garment on the ground. No footsteps, just the rustling. And an eerie whispering, like the muted voices of an entire babbling village square.

The sound amps up the fear I feel, and whereas I was running before, I now find myself positively fleeing. From the sound, from the large weathered road, into another smaller path, into the dense foliage. My heart is in my mouth as I run, hoping my pursuer will lose me. My hopes, however, are not to be as I hear the rustling in the foliage behind me. A choked cry leaves my lips and I crash further down the path. My fear blinds me and I do not see him till I very nearly run into him.

His arm grabs me around my waist and I scream in terror. He does nothing to alleviate my fear. All he does is cock his head towards the rustling coming from behind me. In that moment, I see the huge palm tree and the hut beside it, the palm fronds waving lazily in the still night air. One moment, I am in his arms, beside myself with fear. The next moment, he has me inside his hut and he shuts the door behind him. Relief sprouts within me, a short-lived relief as I hear the rustling getting closer to the house. The fear grips me again and I look around for a weapon, for anything with which to defend myself.

Then, my thoughts fly to my benefactor. I turn to find him and I see him. He is still at the door. But, unlike me, he isn’t looking for any weapon or holding one. He just stands in front of the door, his presence filling the room. Something about the way he stands fills me with dread and courage at the same time. My heart thuds as I hear the rustling and whispering come to the door and stop. The sound crescendos and my fear increases. I can hear the sound of my heart beating, like the thud of heavy metal on the ground, and I fear that it – whatever it is – can hear it too.

One thud. Two thuds. Three thuds, four…

The rustling starts again, moving away from the house. I listen to its fading sound as it leaves. And I release the breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding, my relief evident in that heavy exhale. I close my eyes and try to steady my fast-beating heart, taking deep breaths to control it.

BIG MISTAKE!

Closing my eyes seems to release everything I’d felt in the past few minutes. All that fear, all that energy, all that adrenaline that lent wings to my flight – all of it comes together into one hot, twisted ball of emotion that smashes into me. I have no control over my reaction to this gamut of emotions. I feel myself flail. Time seems to go still as I feel my body sway slowly on the spot and then, I crash to the ground, the emotion taking over me. My entire being quivers as the roiling emotions rush through me. I hear muted sounds from around me but I cannot bring myself to start to understand them. The only thing I can focus on are the several waves of conflicting and painful feelings rolling over me.

I lie, shaking, on that floor. Then, I feel him, my benefactor, lift me up from the ground and place me on another surface, one filled with soft tickly materials. He climbs behind me and holds me tight to his warm body. I feel the heat of his body against the chill of mine, the wash of his hot breath on the flesh of my neck. The feel of his skin on mine, his breath on my body, the contact between us, and the tightness starts to loosen up. Seeping away gradually, the waves of emotion fade to a still stream. Only then could my body start to quieten, to lose the shivers and shakes it had been in.

As the shivers recede, I hear a voice whispering. It isn’t until I feel my lips moving that I realise I’m the one who is talking.

“What was that? Why am I so afraid of it? What is happening to me?”

I feel his hot breath wash over my skin as his arms tighten around me as he says, “Do not worry about that for now. The time would come for you to face it.”

I turn around in his arms, my face a mere hairsbreadth away from his, my eyes staring into the dark orbs that are his eyes. I don’t know why, but I feel drawn to him, like there’s something ancient, powerful and very familiar about him. It makes me want to burrow deeper into his arms and never leave his embrace. I feel the attraction deepen as his tongue darts forward to lick at his lips.

And when he says, staring deep into my eyes: “Let me protect you tonight. Let me help you forget,” I know that my wishes are about to be fulfilled.

His lips claim mine in a kiss that is both soft and full of longing. It almost feels like I’m an egg in his hands and he’s determined not to break me. I feel his tongue licking at my lips, coaxing my mouth open. I open up and let him in and his tongue sweeps through my mouth. One second, I am lying languidly in his arms, the fires of my passion bright coals; the next, the coals burst into a raging inferno that threatens to consume me, to devour my very being. My body is a flaming furnace seeking the water of his body. So great is my need that my formerly docile tongue starts to duel with his, seeking to gain mastery over his, to taste the inside of his mouth. I feel his hands upon my feverish skin, caressing and gripping, running over the dour coloured plains of my flesh and angling ever lower. Soon, his hands are at my waist where he undoes the bands of my lappa and, in one swift movement, he pulls it down off my body.

Our lips still locked together, I reach for the bands of his lappa, and while I fumble with them, his hands roam back up my flesh to grip the base of my top. No sooner have I undone the bands of his lappa than he raises my top and pulls it off me. The contact between our lips broken, I angle my body closer to his, so great is my need for closeness to him. Once my hands are free again, I return them to the task of disrobing this man, this protector of mine.

At last, gloriously naked, on our knees in front of each other upon the earthen mound strewn with furs that is his bed, hard and erect cocks standing straight in front of us like rods of iron, we come together again.

My hand reaches out to grab his member and I feel the power of it, the heat it exudes, the strength in its length, the solidness of its girth, the powerful rivers flowing beneath its thin skin. I stroke it tentatively, causing a harsh groan to emerge from his lips. His head angles downwards and I feel his lips touch the skin of my chest, his tongue licking a trail across my flesh, searching for something. As it strikes the raised flesh of my nipples, it stops its search, choosing instead to lick a trail over and around the sensitive skin. When his lips close over the flesh of my nipple, my breath flows out of me in a sharp hiss. He licks and tugs, nips and sucks, lolls and rolls in turn, filling my body with sensations I don’t want to stop feeling. Over and over, he ministers to my flesh, shifting his attention from one peak to the other intermittently.

I want to taste him. I need to taste him. I try to coax his head off my nipple but instead, I find myself being gently pushed to lie down amidst the furs. Next thing I know, the wet heat of his mouth engulfs my hard cock. My back arches as I start to babble things that have no meaning, lost as I am in ecstasy. His head bobs up and down, his tongue suckling at my hardened flesh, his palm fondling my heavy balls and a finger rubbing sensually on the sensitive skin in between my legs. He soon shifts his body towards mine and I find his penis, copious amounts of liquid creaming its head, next to my face. Unthinking, I open my mouth and take him in.

He tastes like a memory, the distinctive stinging taste of metal. It is nectar to my mouth as I strain to take more and more of him into my mouth with each bob of my head. He lifts his head off my cock and I mewl underneath him, protesting the removal of the pleasure of his mouth from my cock whilst unwilling to release him from my mouth. I feel his head return to my cock and his fingers, now wet, snake down the cleft of my buttocks to the puckered flesh that awaits him. He teases the flesh with his fingers as we both slurp away on each other’s cocks. Soon, his teasing finger slips into me, sliding in and out in an action that mimics the pleasure he would soon be bringing me. One finger soon turns to two, two fingers to three. And it is all I can do not to scream at him to take me in that moment.

A few more sliding stretches and twists and scissoring of his fingers inside me later, he pulls out of my mouth and turns his body away from mine.

He slides up my body and, staring deep into my eyes, he says, “My name is Lákáayé.”

His eyes turn to glowing red orbs. My eyes widen in shock. I know who he is. Ogun. The protector.

As my mind strives to process this information, I notice his lips moving again and I focus on his words. “…permission to take you?” Though I didn’t hear the full question, I nod my acquiescence. He’s had my permission since before we began.

I feel him poke the head of his cock against my puckered flesh. Instinctively, I relax and allow myself to open up to the slight pressure he pushes against me with. The head slides in and he stops, giving me time to adjust and unclench and ride through the waves of pain rolling over me. A short stab and a push, a slide out and a push, and soon, he’s fully encased in my depths. I feel full, fuller than I’ve ever felt in my life. He doesn’t move for a few moments. His sensitivity to my pain is heart-warming but I have no patience for such nicety. Arching my back, I cause my hips to rise, pulling him deeper into me. Moans escape our lips at the action and continue as I swing my body back down, causing him to slide slightly out of me. That is all the cue he needs.

Pinning my hands above my head with his, he begins to slide in and out of me. Slowly at first, then increasing the speed with every passing thrust. Soon, all that fills the hut are the sounds of the slaps of flesh against flesh, our harsh breaths and the intermittent moans that escape our lips whenever our lips disentangle. He takes me to heights hitherto unknown in pleasure. After some time, he pulls out of me and flips my body over, raising me up to my hands and knees. In that position, he mounts me, like a dog mounts his bitch. Gripping tightly onto my waist, he jackhammers his cock into me, forcing my body forward with each thrust. My arms lose their strength as the pleasure takes hold of me and I let my body fall back to the furs. My hips remain suspended in the air, held up by the arch of my body and the strength of his arms as he ceaselessly stabs into me.

There is pleasure. There is pain. There is the melding of two into one. His thrusts give me no respite and I need none. I cry out for more, urging him on with my wordless groans and cries. He slips out of me again and lays his body down on mine. Stretched out flat on my stomach, I feel his body rise as he slips back into me. He grips my shoulders as he continues to ride me in this new position. With each thrust, I feel his body come closer to mine till he is laying spread out on top of me, with only his hips rising and falling with each stroke. He raises my hips up and slips his hand into the small space between me and the furs. Grabbing hold of my cock, he begins to pump it in time with his thrusts in and out of me. Too soon, with each stroke of his cock inside me and pump of his hand on my turgid flesh, I feel myself coming closer to the brink of ecstasy.

One pump, two pumps, three pumps, four… I scream as I feel my orgasm take over me, my entire being quaking with the waves of sensation crashing through me. Above me, I hear him groan loudly, a sign that he’s as close to the peak as I am. The waves flow all over my body and come together to form a giant tidal wave that smashes through my being and erupts from my organ in great gobs of pearlescent cream. As I soar in the throes of passion, I feel him rising with me. Grabbing and turning my head towards his, he kisses me again while depositing the milk of his manhood inside me. His lips taste like metal again and I close my eyes to savour the taste.

***

I opened my eyes to find myself on my bed, one end of the metal ruler I’d used to finish up my sketching assignment stuck in my mouth, explaining the metallic taste in my mouth.

Tossing it aside as I got up from the bed, I went to the wardrobe to find another pair of shorts to replace the ones I had stained with my emission.

Someday, I thought to myself, I’ll finally understand this, why I feel like this, why I have these dreams. But today isn’t that day.

Written by Mitch