THE HOOK-UP STORY (A Dare Gone Wrong)

So, I have this thing I call The Peak. That is when I have reached the zenith of my sexcapade for a particular period and I stop having sex. This peak varies and is seasonal.

The month of January to early February was quite the eventful period for me, especially sexually. I was literally just fucking anything that moved with a penis dangling from its thighs. I had sex with about thirteen people, including a threesome. It was crazy, but I didn’t feel any kind of way. I hadn’t reached my peak yet. I wouldn’t say there was any particular reason I was more sexually active or perhaps, more sexually explorative, but I was and I loved the liberation it came with.

However, one of my friends thought otherwise.

I have a group of amazing people in my life that I call family. As far as I am concerned, they are my real family. The family I am related to by blood, I call my Birth Family. These friends of mine, I share everything with. They are like my support system, my rock and keeping secrets from each other is highly prohibited. Although, this is an unspoken rule.

Anyway, one of them – a girl – said, after I regaled them with the gist of my recent sexcapades, that I must now have reached my peak, and that I would have to wait for another three or four months to have sex when I was on another sexual high. Apparently, this is what I am known to do.

Thing is, I hadn’t gotten to that peak yet. And to have my friend presume so made me feel triggered sort of. It suddenly became something of a dare to me, a statement that I suddenly wanted so badly to prove wrong.

I could still have sex. And I wanted to show that to her. In retrospect, it was a silly reason to go and have sex, but what harm would it bring really? At the very worst, I’d bust a nut and forget the name of the person that made that happen the next second.

This was how I joined Grindr.

This is an app I hardly use, what with the high concentration of assholes that can be found loitering in it, but that day I uploaded it. I had a set goal and I was going to achieve it, even if it meant mingling with gnomes and goblins.

It didn’t take long; I met a guy.

Now this guy wasn’t exactly smart-talking, and that put me off a bit. He kept talking about weird things like how he doesn’t like hanging out with people in his area (Lekki), and this was funny to me, because asides the fact that it was information I didn’t ask for, I really didn’t care for his likes and dislikes. So you don’t like being part of your community? Good for you. I’m just here to shag.

However, he had a good picture and seemed available, so I smiled through the tedious conversation and engaged him enough to get him interested in coming over.

I should add that while we were chatting, he had told me, without my asking, that he didn’t have a big dick. Even though it surprised me that he’d be readily available with this piece of information that many in the gay community prefer to be quiet about, I was impressed. And I liked it. Not the honesty, but the fact that his dick wasn’t big. I am not a fan of big dicks anyway. They are objects I like to admire, not fuck.

And so, I asked him if he would like to exchange nudes. You know, get to see what each of us was working with. He sent his and I sent him mine. Then, I asked him what he liked to do in bed. He said that he doesn’t rim but that he sucks dick.

That was fine. I could live with that. As a matter of fact, I could relate with that, because I also have an issue with putting some random person’s asshole in my mouth. I mean, I have been faced with a lot of atrocities down there, from bits of tissue paper to growths that could’ve been anything from warts to pile. So, before I toss someone’s son’s salad, he has to be more than just a random hookup.

When he arrived, he seemed nervous. I tried to make him feel at home, make him understand that it was just us in the house and that there was nothing to be afraid of. I even made a show of locking the other rooms – usually occupied by my mother and younger brother who weren’t around at the time – just to put him at ease.

Ugh, it was a lot of work, and the pressure of it, Lord knows, was already causing me to detach myself mentally. And I didn’t want that. I could not have it. I had an objective, and until I’d sent my friend a VN of myself moaning or groaning as proof that I could still have sex, I could not afford to be detached.

So, I approached him, slid down until I was on my knees, dug my hands into his pants and whipped out what turned out to be quite the shocker.

It was a case of what I ordered versus what I got!

What I had in my hand was NOT what he sent me in pictures.

This guy had duped me!

What he said was that he didn’t have a big dick; what he should have told me was that he had a micro-penis!

But there was a goal – and a friend to prove wrong. So, I assumed in my head that he was a grower. I know how those kinds of dicks tend to spring surprises on people. I put the penis in my mouth and started to suck it. I sucked and massaged, nibbled and pulled on it – but Christ, the growth rate was abysmal. Resigned to fate, I smiled wanly at him as I got up and pulled him to the bed.

I assumed a 69 position, because if I was going to spend my time sucking this dick, I should get mine sucked as well. So, with his head positioned over my crotch, I took his dick back into my mouth and began sucking. But nothing was happening down there. I moved my hip forward, silently encouraging him to take my penis and put it in his goddamn mouth!

But nothing!

I stopped blowing him and looked questioningly at him. And he opened that hole on his face and said, “I don’t suck dick.”

E-le-du-ma-re!

Was there anything this guy had been honest to me about during our Grindr chat? First the fake dick picture; now he’d apparently lied about this too?! Like, what the actual fuck? I was so mad, I felt all the energy leave my body. Imagine when you’re so pissed off, you don’t even have the strength to display your displeasure.

And yet, for whatever reason, I wanted to see this through. The normal me would have gotten up from the bed and chased him out of my house with a cutlass, but I wasn’t me that day.

However, I was no longer interested in sucking his dick. It was time to simply get this over with.

After putting on the condom I gave to him, this guy came up behind me as I positioned myself on my haunches. He took my hips in his hands and I could feel his small hard-on brushing up against my rump. Then without warning, he aggressively shoved his thing inside me. I flinched and pulled away instantly. When I turned my head to glare at him, he gave me a grin – that coy smirk, as though he had proven his masculinity to me. I wanted to laugh. This was clearly one of those guys who know they have nothing impressive to work with, and so, they believe that being violent in bed will somehow make up for the fact that they have small dicks.

So, of all the guys that were teeming on Grindr, I landed myself with the one who has a micro-penis, doesn’t suck dick, and is bad at sex.

Jeez, Tega! You sure can pick ‘em.

I wanted to say something to cut him down to size, but I didn’t. Instead, I snapped, “Take it easy, young man.”

I had no idea why I was being this nice, this accommodating. Surely, no determination to bust a nut was worth taking this shit.

We went back to fucking, with him shoving back and forth, and me becoming increasingly aware that this was all a mistake. Then, he got so invested in whatever porn-star image he fancied himself to be and tried to flip me around with that initial aggression of his. I was torn between being annoyed and mused by this, as his maneuver ended up being a fumble. As a heavily-set guy, I am not easy to maneuver. I weigh a considerable lot. He could have simply asked for me to switch position, but no. Mr-Macho-with-A-Tiny-Dick couldn’t help but want to prove his masculinity. Once again, I glowered at him and he let me be.

We continued with me on my back, and this time, I actually started getting into the sex. As he ground up against me, his body wrapped over mine, I found myself thinking that maybe he wouldn’t be such a bad experience at all. I could actually enjoy this.

However, before that thought could take root and germinate, he began to shake and tremble, panting hard as his thrusts took on the manic speed of one climaxing.

I couldn’t believe it. Just like that, he had cum!

You see you eh, Grindr? It will not be better for you!

He fell back on the bed, apparently exhausted – even though I couldn’t tell, for the life of me, how a few minutes of humping and grinding could result in anyone being tired.

I faced him and said, “My turn.”

Of course, I needed to bust a nut too. I’d endured too much tragedy for this to end with only him climaxing.

He looked at me like I was insane and shook his head. “I am tired.”

The joke! This one was just a regular Kevin Hart.

I snapped.

“Dude, what exactly do you have to be tired about? You put in FOUR minutes of unimpressive work, and that is including the time you spent shaking from your premature ejaculation. You cannot say you’re tired, Mister Man. Please, I need to bust my but too.” I glared at him, daring him to refuse, challenging him to deny me what was duly mine.

With great reluctance, he got up and moved closer to me. This was the part where he should have asked me what he should do to help with my climax. I mean, some people like to be jerked off. Others want to jerk themselves off while you tease their erogenous zones. Some others want to fuck you right back or simply settle for lap sex. As a versatile, anyone was good enough for me.

But this nigga…Oh God! He slid closer to me on the bed, reached his hand up to my chest and began flicking my nipple with his finger. Just that, flick-flick-flick, WITH HIS FINGERS! I wasn’t even worth the effort of a good nipple-suck. In fact, it would seem that this guy’s mouth and tongue goes NOWHERE on the body of whomever he’s having sex with.

That was when I truly had it.

I knocked his hand off my chest and got up.

“Put your clothes on and leave,” I ordered.

He looked at me briefly in surprise. Then he sat up and began gathering his things. I watched him as he slowly pulled each panel over his legs with a calmness that heightened my irritation.

This asshole!

I went to the door, unlocked it and opened it slightly. Then I went to him and aggressively tapped him.

“Hey…” he started.

I pointed to the door. “Be going already.”

“Calm down na,” he said.

But I had calmed down enough. I was very pissed now. I shoved him in the direction of the door.

“Guy, wetin na?” he protested.

I grabbed his shirt and threw it at him, before shoving him the rest of the way out the door and banging it shut in his face.

Talk about getting rid of bad rubbish.

I could hear him walking away as I set about sanitizing the whole house. I needed to get his essence, the bad energy of it, out of my space. I concluded the sanitization and went to have my bath; spent the next several minutes scrubbing and washing, hoping that would somehow rid me of his memory.

And what was the worst part? For all my efforts to prove to my friend that I hadn’t reach my peak yet, I ended up not having the sex I wanted to make my case with.

Because, surely, this disgraceful hookup does not count for anything!

However, I am done. I have decided that I have indeed reached The Peak, and until further notice, I am staying off men.

I hope.

Storytelling by Tega (Written by Delle)