I hadn’t had sex in a long time. Between work and personal commitments, I barely had a social life, let alone time for random hookups.

The day I hung out with my friend, Pink Panther, at my place during a weekend, I found myself lamenting to him: “Help a brother out abeg. I’m tired. My whole body seems to be shutting down. I need to get laid!”

Pinky simply laughed at my theatrics and asked if I’d given Grindr a try. I told him that the kito alerts that seemed to originate from Grindr had managed to turn me off the app.

“What about Tinder?” he asked.

I’d heard of Tinder, but I didn’t know how it worked. So, he set me up on the app, and I was soon swiping away. But the time and patience required to carry on with chatversations before getting around to arranging for a meet (because some people didn’t want the first date to be about sex) was just not permitted by the erratic and hectic schedule of my work. So, I was on Tinder, and still I wasn’t getting what I needed.

I just wanted an easy fuck, with no stress on the way to getting it.

Then one evening, I was on a WhatsApp chat with Pinky, when – as though the thought had suddenly occurred to him – he said, “Oh that’s right. I’ve been meaning to tell you about this guy I recently hooked up with. He’s cool and everything. The only problem is that he is massively well hung. I don’t even know what I was thinking when I invited him over, but I really couldn’t take his dick. It is BIG. I could feel his disappointment that night, and the next morning, as I saw him off, I thought about you as someone I could hook him up with.”

Upon reading this, I felt a slight swell of mortification. So, this is what my friends think of me, I thought to myself. That I’m the power bottom who can take what they can’t. My mangina is now the Lagos-Ibadan Expressway that whatever kind of vehicle can easily go through, abi?

Then a voice interrupted my train of thought with: Who are you kidding? You know you are a size queen. Own it. You know you like big dicks. Better stop feeling precious right now.

A new message from Pinky dropped in: “So, if you’re interested, I could talk to him about you, and then pass his number on to you.”

If you’re interested?!!!

Was this pikin mad? Of course, I was interested!

So, a few minutes later, Pinky sent me the number of the guy (who we shall call Vince). I saved it and sought him out on WhatsApp. I said hi and he said hello. Pinky had already briefed him on everything, so that made the connection easy as we began chatting. As we chatted, he said he’d recognised me from Tinder. Apparently, he’d swiped right on my profile first, and after I swiped right on his, consequently connecting with him, he’d been waiting for me to send him a message.

“Seeing as you’re the one who swiped last,” he said, “you were supposed to send me a message.”

I didn’t know Tinder had such codes of conduct, and I obviously didn’t message him because I’d quickly gotten exasperated with the app and lost interest. However, I couldn’t help but wonder why he, after realizing that a connection had been made between us on the app, didn’t think he should send me a message. I mean, if you like somebody well enough, shouldn’t you just take the initiative and say hi, whether you swiped first or last?

At this thought, I filed away my impression of Vince as someone who thinks highly of himself.

We soon got around to the point of our connection: When are we meeting?

He lived in the Ojo area of Lagos, something that would have given me pause, had he not already made Pink Panther’s acquaintance. His house was far from mine. But because his workplace was much closer to where I live, we agreed to see on Sunday. He’d come over to mine, where he would spend the night and then head off to work the next morning.

When he got to my place that Sunday evening, the moment I let him in, he took me into his arms and began kissing me. I felt a stirring inside me, a coming-alive of my essence. But there was no need to rush. He was here now, and we had all night.

I pulled away from his embrace and said, “Calm down. Let me at least give you kola.”

Smiling, he said, “I thought I was already getting kola.”

“No,” I said with a chuckle. “In this house, I give proper kola.”

Moments later, I’d settled him down with some snacks and drink, and we carried on with a conversation while I prepared dinner in the kitchen, which was close to the parlour. We were getting to know each other more, filling in the blanks from our chats, which often comes with meeting someone face to face.

By the time I was done in the kitchen, I had a pretty good idea what kind of person Vince was and everything else I needed to know about him to be comfortable in his company. And so, I was finally ready to fuck.

But first, I had to do a quick check-up on myself – on my mangina, really. I had to check to see that there were no potholes on the expressway. That the construction was still solid, even though there hadn’t been any traffic on it in awhile.

Finally, we were in bed together, and Vince proceeded to give me one of the best sexual experiences I’d ever had.

He was good. I immediately knew this when he spread my ass open and dived in between those cheeks with his tongue and lips. He took his time sniffing and kissing on my asshole, until I couldn’t take anymore teasing. Then he licked me nice and slow, so that his wet tongue was slip-sliding across the walls of my asshole. I could feel my body releasing the tensions of the past week, as I relaxed and backed my ass into his face.

He was eating, nibbling, licking and flicking every inch of my ass, slurping up every single ounce of nectar his mouth made drip from my ass and spitting it back so that he could use it as lube to finger me with in-between licks. My muscles were quivering as I buried my face into a pillow, soft moans escaping my mouth. He smacked my ass hard, causing me to let out a tremulous “Oh yes. Do that again.”

So, he smacked my ass even harder and immediately sucked on my asshole, making me holler out again and then break into shivers.

This guy was a god, and his rimming skill was a weapon. In fact, by this time, I was so ready for his dick – which, by the way, Pinky wasn’t joking about. He was HUGE! He had a dick that was not for the faint-hearted, impressive in both length and girth. When I first set my eyes on it, I felt the flutter of fear that came with knowing I hadn’t had sex in awhile. But now, I was on a high. All that rimming was the poppers I needed.

He put on some lubricant on his sheathed dick and lathered some on my asshole as I lay on my back, facing him, ready to take him on. I even grabbed his dick, making him inch closer to me, as a sign that I was indeed ready. My legs were spread wide for him and I could feel my asshole puckering as if it was begging for his dick. He teased me a few times with his dick before finally pushing the head against the opening of my hole. That was the first and only time I made any movement that suggested pain, and he was so keen on my body language – a habit, I would come to realize, of one who was so used to having Bottoms suffer the pain of his big dick.

He inched out of me and then pushed in gently again. I forced myself to relax and allowed him to carefully work the tip in. He leaned forward and kissed me as he began pushing in inch after inch. I threw my hands around his neck, and pushed my hips forward to meet him. We were kissing as he thrust his hips into me, pushing and pulling his dick in and out of my ass in a slow but consistent rhythm. When he began to go deeper, I was getting fuller. His dick soon got to where it counts inside me, before he proceeded to fuck me, the rhythm slowly graduating in speed until he was piston-fucking me.

Vince pounded me in every position we could achieve. Missionary, spooning, doggy, with me pinned to the wall, with my legs stretched at a near-perfect angle 90 degrees. We were inexhaustible in our passion.

By the time he finally allowed himself to reach his climax, he was groaning so loudly, I was afraid my neighbours would hear him. He rammed into me one final time with a burst of energy and began spasming against me as he came.

It was glorious. I felt a liquid sense of power and satisfaction flow through me, especially when he dropped into the bed beside me, both of us sweaty and breathless, and he confessed that he couldn’t believe how well I’d taken him. That he’d never had anyone like me.

That felt very good to hear. After a long hiatus from sex, it was nice to hear that I still got it. But to be clear, I enjoyed the sex just as much as he evidently enjoyed it.

That night, before the morning came, we ended up fucking three times.

As we both left my house for work on Monday morning, I felt very much empowered by the night I’d had. Vince was like a new energy drink I’d been introduced to. All I wanted was to keep having sex with him.

Just that. Sex.

I wanted the uncomplicated, unrestrained, unburdened situation of just sex with this guy who appeared to know how to give it.

I had to advise myself that I didn’t want to develop any emotional attachment to him. The last breakup I went through had been very rough on my emotional well-being, after which I swore I’d never let any man in – at least, not for a very long time. And since gay guys usually have the tendency of unlocking the pathway to their heart after great sex, I had to remind myself that I just wanted to have sex and let it just be about sex. I didn’t want to catch feelings.

I didn’t however reckon with Vince.

In the following days after our first hookup, he was frequently checking up on me.

“Hello, how are you doing?”

“Hey dear, how was your day?”

“Just checking… how far?”

“Are you alright? What’s up with you?”

Initially, I found this to be cute. But then, his attention began to feel like a grasscutter trap snapping shut around me. If he called me and he was kept on Call Waiting because I was on another call, when we’d get around to talking, he would say, “So who were you talking to? Your boyfriend, abi?”

Whenever we were chatting and I wasn’t quick to respond to him, he’d want to know if it was my “other boyfriends” who were distracting me from our chat.

The next time he came to my house and we were lounging in the parlour, I was on my phone, checking off some WhatsApp notifications. And he again started with how I must be chatting with my boyfriend. I started to explain that I was just chatting with my friends, when I stopped myself with a thought: So what if I was? What if I was chatting with other potential hookups? He was just a hookup himself and we hadn’t had any conversation about being exclusive or about dating. Why did he keep talking about my “boyfriends” as though he was accusing me of something?

I felt a bit nettled by this, but I didn’t address it. The sex was good, and for now, that was all that mattered.

A few days later, I found myself in the middle of a family crisis. It was the sort of problem that I could only tell my very close friends; and that included Pinky. When Vince caught on to my troubled state of mind, he pressed, wanting to know what was wrong, and I gave him an abridged version of what I was going through. Expectedly, he increased the rate of his communication, constantly wanting to know how I was. I appreciated this very much.

Then one day, as I was going about my day, trying to balance work and family, my phone went off. I wasn’t in a position to charge it, and so I was offline for a great part of the day. In that time, Vince had apparently tried to reach me to no avail. Finally, he reached out to Pinky, wanting to know if he had been in touch with me. Pinky knew exactly what I was up to, but he rightfully didn’t think Vince deserved to know. As long as Pinky was concerned, Vince was nothing serious to me. So even though Vince kept pressing for him to get in touch with me, all Pinky had to say to him was that I was fine and that I would be in touch when I could.

Much to my amusement as I heard the story later told, Vince had responded to Pinky’s assurances with a patronizing “are you sure” or something like that, a remark intended to imply that Pinky didn’t know something about his friend that he, Vince, knew. LOL. My friend is a firecracker, and this condescension provoked him into responding: “Vince, you’ve only known this guy like five seconds. I’ve known him more than half my life. Please, stay in your lane.”

When I eventually got back online and Vince was able to get through to me, he fumed about his altercation with my friend, telling me about how he came close to blocking Pinky because of his response. I was ticked off by this. I didn’t understand what this guy’s deal was. It was nice that he cared, but we hadn’t gotten to that stage in our situationship where he should care this much, to the extent of harassing my friends. I checked him on this, letting him know that there were boundaries I expected him to respect. Getting into a spat with my friend because he felt more entitled to me was just not appropriate. He apologized and we moved on.

We began having a lot of sex. He also became such a regular visitor at my place that sometimes, on those Sundays when he’d want to spend the night at mine to go to work the next day, he’d call, and if I knew I wouldn’t make it back home from work, I would tell him where to find my key and let himself in. I knew he expected to spend those Sunday nights with me, but I couldn’t help the hectic inflexibility of my job. Some periods, we’d work so endlessly in the office, that rooms in a nearby hotel would be booked for those of us who live far from work. There are times when I don’t get to see my house for days on end. As a regular nine-to-fiver, Vince didn’t seem to understand this work schedule I operated on. And each time I couldn’t make a Sunday night with him, he’d sound very querulous and doubtful on the phone, as though he didn’t believe me when I said I was at work.

He would nag and complain so much that I found myself wondering one day: Isn’t this what they say Bottoms do? That Tops are aloof while Bottoms are the ones so desperate for attention, we would complain about and cling to situations we should let go of? Bottoms are made out to be the dramatic, emotional gays who suffocate their boyfriends with their need, while the Tops just want to be left alone.

In fact, with my last two relationships, I’d been exactly this stereotypical Bottom; always stressing myself over the guys who often acted like they couldn’t be bothered. Now finding myself in a position where I felt suffocated and irritated by the other guy’s demands on my time felt very alien. These were not the shoes I was used to wearing.

Vince and I eventually ended with the kind of unceremoniousness that one wouldn’t expect, considering how we started with a bang. One day, he called twice. But I was at work, in a disciplinary panel. I couldn’t answer. When I was done, I called him back once.

He didn’t answer.

I didn’t call again.

He didn’t call back.

And we haven’t spoken to each other since then.

Written by JBoy

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  1. Mitch
    March 12, 08:39 Reply

    The moment I got to the part where Pinky talked about how huge Vince’s dick was, I knew it was you, J-boy. Only Momma can take it in whatever humongous size it comes in and won’t even break a sweat. We, your kids, look up to thee???

    As for the Vince creature, I cannot, for the life of me, understand people who get clingy with others after sex. It’s sex oh. Not a promise of a life shared eternally. It’s just sex. Haba haba! All that clinginess is off-putting, abeg.

    I’m shaa glad it ended on a no-disturbance note. Ike headache adiro mmadu.

    PS: “…Better stop feeling precious right now…”
    Wotapun? Waialldis? ?????

  2. Higwe
    March 12, 08:49 Reply

    The number of times I read pinky , pink panther , pink , pinkish ???‍♂️

    Oluwa wetin dey pinkilate ? ??‍♂️

    • Audrey
      March 13, 12:13 Reply

      You are just a trouble maker my dear friend. Please some of us wouldn’t mind having VINCE’s contact as we also like it BIG.

      Please is there some kinda Gay Tinder cos me I don’t understand if I downloaded the wrong app as most of the people I’ve met on the App are straight and outright homophobic please help a brother abeg.

      • Higwe
        March 13, 13:49 Reply


        There is someone I know , I don’t know how good his dick game is because he bottomed when we fucked but he’s extremely hot .

        He’s also a graduate of unizik .
        Kind of snobbish though…
        I remember before we fucked he didn’t answer my calls on so many occasions, kept me on who who on WhatsApp after several hellos ? …… at the end of the day I still got what I wanted and so could you ??‍♂️?

        Let’s pass the motherfucker around for being a Biatch * ??

        If you’re interested , send me your Gmail , I’ll send you his contact.
        He’s based in Lagos now , so I trust you can handle the rest .?

        I would have asked you to ask pink P for my Gmail but he’s vexing for me because of his “friend” Mitch .

        I don’t know about any of those apps …my boyfriend is enough for me .????

        • Don
          March 13, 23:03 Reply

          Can i have your email or phone number. Lets talk please.

        • Don
          March 13, 23:05 Reply


          Please can i have your email or phone number lets talk.

        • Audrey
          March 15, 14:32 Reply

          Higwe by all means hook me up but hope it’s not someone I’ve already eaten his work oh cos I worry for that school after my heartbreak. But hope he knows how to use it and is not set awon BABY BE RUBBING IT WOULD SOON STAND cos me ion have time to massage anybody’s ego oh.

          Get back to me ASAP.

      • Pink Panther
        March 13, 17:59 Reply

        LMAO. Tinder that us gay people have taken over? Which direction are you swiping to be getting those sort of guys abeg?

        • Higwe
          March 13, 20:26 Reply

          Reply my G-mail nah ?
          Coronavirus is upon us and I don’t know how much time we human race have left .
          What if I contract the virus and die, how will you live with yourself knowing you left my last message hanging .??

          I just saw a viral news now that gay people are more at risk of dying from the virus ?.

          We need each other more than ever now .
          I need your moral support .?

          My pink p.
          Chubby cheeks .
          Fresh nigga .
          Cutie .
          Boss man.
          Akwa nwa .
          Nwa miliki ?

          Hard heart doesn’t suit a soft fresh boy like you na .

          Biko zi nu , nwannem nwoke.
          E ma binu.

          Infact give me a restraining order …I will always stand 6 feet apart from Mitch. ???

          When I see any name that starts with an M , I’ll dive into a bush. ???

      • Gaia
        March 16, 15:47 Reply

        It is called….”bad market”. Just rest. Tdr is not for you.

  3. Mandy
    March 12, 09:47 Reply

    Lol. I don’t know if this story was a story about clingy tops or a celebration of your friendship with Pinky, JBoy. So many Pinky mentions. But I’m pleased about it. Strong independent Bottoms looking out for each other. Destroying entitled Tops, one bottom power at a time. ???✊✊

    • Bennet
      March 13, 09:22 Reply

      “Strong independent bottoms.” Sigh.

      The fact that we’re even still using “bottom” as a noun. ??‍♂

      • Pink Panther
        March 13, 11:52 Reply

        How would you prefer the words “bottom” and “top” be used?

      • Mandy
        March 13, 11:55 Reply

        Don’t tell me you’re one of those who thinks saying “I play bottom” or “I play top” somehow makes the world a better place over saying “I am top” or “I am bottom”.

        Or is your exasperation just reserved for “bottom” as a noun?

      • Bennet
        March 13, 21:30 Reply

        A bottom. A top.” I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable with these words. Ever. I’ll try to express why.

        These words have original definitions in English and the definitions will always impose a connotation over their use, no matter how we use them. (Basically, a “top” is on top and a “bottom” is under.) And that’s problematic. So Pink Panther, I would actually prefer we drop the words completely. It’s easier to do away with problematic words than to try to make your brain work like a switch between literal “top” and sexual “top”. But doing away with them is wishful thinking, right? If you think so, then let’s at least try not to use them to describe actual people in non-sexual contexts. “Strong independent bottoms” is obviously referencing women’s social issues and as much as it was probably just a light-hearted joke, it still feeds stereotypes we’re trying to defeat. Even if we must have these sex roles, please they shouldn’t define our lives outside sex. The way I see it sef, we’re creating certain issues for ourselves by tying sex roles [that shouldn’t exist, IMO] to personal identity. {P.S. Me opining that sex roles shouldn’t exist does not mean there shouldn’t be anal sex. Just in case someone was going there, lol.) Gay men’s gender expressions usually match their sex roles, going by society’s rules, but we shouldn’t assume causation when there isn’t. Use the words if you want but use them to describe sex (as verbs), not to identify people in non-sexual contexts (as nouns). Say “I bottom,” “Ejike topped that dude yesterday,” “a sister is learning how to top,” etc. not “all these Tops are clingy.” Somay’all even capitalize it as if it’s a title. Chile!

        Mandy, I don’t know about “I play bottom” because it’s not like sex is a game/business/what-have-you, and using “play” kinda shies away from being explicit, which is sex-shaming. So no. And “bottom” is still used as a noun in “I play bottom” lol. And I sincerely hope I’m not prone to bottom-shaming so it’s not that either.

        I hope I’ve made at least some sense lol. And I also hope my lack of alternative words isn’t taken as justification for using problematic ones.

  4. Gif
    March 12, 14:15 Reply

    He probably isn’t getting enough btms that can take him so the moment he finds one(jboy) his instincts kick in to secure you as hos personal btm. I wouldn’t blame him that much. Good sex is magical!!!

  5. Bells
    March 12, 15:08 Reply

    Tops these days are very clingy. Talk about changing roles characteristics. Story of my new bf

    • Delle
      March 12, 20:59 Reply

      Did he just say ‘roles characteristics?’

      Okay, I’m done with this one.


  6. Terra
    March 12, 15:52 Reply

    But you sef, take some responsibility. You could see that this guy was getting more attached and you kept the sex going. He was getting more attached and you basically gave him the key to your apartment. He was a lot, and you knew where this was going but the way I see it, you didn’t do a lot to dissuade him because you didn’t want to lose the sex you were having.

    Also, can we please kill this “tops act this way and bottoms act that way” narrative? Thanks

  7. Mikey?
    March 12, 23:25 Reply

    I love jboy right from the post of about being visible I dunno if its stand up and walk. Please pinky can I get his details now? I’ve asked for it before!!!

  8. Omiete
    March 13, 00:23 Reply

    Chai. This was a painful read. All that good dick gone with the wind because someone just got to clingy.

  9. Saucebutton
    March 13, 08:06 Reply

    You left an Elephant in the room. Talking would have made things easier.

  10. Higwe

    why do I always feel like I know you in person in Unizik?

    I picture the image of you as an anti cult guy in unizik , well built physique and always using girls as camouflage.

    No harm meant anyways.

    Cheers ??

    For the Chubby lovers I am a step away.

  11. Flexsterous
    March 16, 08:45 Reply

    Did he become clingy though?, this is me as an introvert who hates phone calls and loves my alone time arguing, you we’re going through something and as someone who he’s gotten close to, he wanted to be there for you by checking up on you, and when he couldn’t reach you called a mutual friend of your (pink panther) and asked a simple question of “are you sure” whom then replied in a very rude manner in my opinion.

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