THE STRANGER FROM JAM MEGA FEST

THE STRANGER FROM JAM MEGA FEST

It was 2006 and I had just rounded up my final year exams. I had loads of time to kill and the last thing I wanted was to go back to my folks and be subjected to their ever-watchful eyes.

My roommate and friend (very outgoing and very gay, who we’ll call Lexy) told me he was going to Abuja. I hadn’t been to Abuja before and I’d been hearing loads of stories about the city and its gay life. However, I couldn’t go with Lexy because I didn’t have any money. I mean, I was as broke as a snapped toothpick. But Fate, it seemed, also didn’t want my only option for the holidays to be to go back home, because the day before Lexy would leave for the FCT, someone I’d met a long time ago on Manjam, and who’d been on my case forever and was based in Abuja, called me. The reason I’d never gone to visit him was because I had never been the type to travel long distances in the name of “market” or “flex”. Hell, I didn’t even visit relatives in other states.

Anyways, Mister Man from Manjam (who we’ll call Eddy) called me out of the blue after a long absence of communication between us and gave me the ultimatum of either becoming his sworn enemy or accepting his “final” request to visit Abuja. In his words: “…even if it is to see my face.”

Seemed like the perfect opportunity, no doubt – but I was still broke, and I am not the type to ask anyone for money. It was a good thing he persisted with his invitation until I capitulated and told him about my financial situation. He asked if he could send me recharge cards to sell to a vendor and then use the money from the sale as my transport fare. I said he could, and a few minutes later, he’d sent a generous amount of recharge card that amounted to a lot more than I needed for transport fare. I sold the cards, bought my ticket, fed, shopped for some clothes and packed a suitcase.

Very early the next morning, Lexy and I were on our way to Abuja. The journey seemed to last forever and when we finally arrived, Eddy – who had been calling me almost every hour and nearly ran down my phone battery – was waiting for me at the park.

Upon seeing him, I could tell he was an “aunty” and I was sure that he too could see that the masculinity he saw in my photos weren’t as imposing as he thought they’d be in real life. Nevertheless, we seemed to forge an immediate friendship as we hugged and laughed over the idea of finally getting to meet. Lexy got on a taxi after bidding me farewell and Eddy helped me put my bag in the trunk of his car before we too drove off into the city.

I was mesmerized by the sights of the city. Abuja was a beautiful place, very scenic in the night with its city lights and sophisticated buildings. I just knew this would be the right place for me to live someday.

Once we got to his house which was located somewhere in Wuse, Eddy made me dinner, showed me the bathroom and where I would be sleeping. We didn’t find each other sexually attractive anymore, and therefore, there clearly wasn’t going to be any sex tonight or any other night during my stay here. This was obviously going to be a “Big Sister (him) and Small Girl (me)” kinda friendship, and before long, we were gossiping about men and all sorts.

The next day was Saturday, and after a great breakfast, Eddy took me out and about town. He urged me extend my trip past the few days I’d initially planned so I could find opportunities for myself, seeing as I had now finished my education and was about to get acquainted with the real world. I agreed with him.

On Monday, Eddy was back to work and Abuja became so boring. All I did all day was look out my bedroom window at the city (he lived on the sixth floor) and psyche myself that this place had a lot to offer me.

Dare I also mention that Eddy was rarely at home? Dude was perpetually in the house of a “girlfriend” of his. This “girlfriend” lived in a very upscale Maitama apartment with his oyibo boyfriend. So I was basically at home day in day out, fending for myself except for those few times when Eddy came home to take me out.

The week went by fast and soon, it was another weekend. The weekend was also the Jam Mega Fest, a Christian music festival which is annually hosted by House On The Rock, and Eddy and his squad were going to be in attendance. I, of course, was getting taken along for the ride.

The venue was Eagle Square and by the time we got there, it was filled with people. I was surprised to see familiar faces (gays of course) that I knew from school and other obviously-looking queer men and boys in their cliques and squads.

Because there was an age difference between Eddy and me, I found myself not blending well with him and his clique, as they all were the “madams” and “society ladies” of Abuja, while I was just a soon-to-be graduate. A few hours into the event, Eddy told me they were leaving – obviously not back to his place. He asked me if I had money for a taxi back home and I said yes. And so, with a “call me if you need anything”, he waved bye and was off with his friends.

I wasn’t ready to go back home so I decided to stick around and look for the people who I was familiar with for their company. Sadly, I couldn’t find any of them as they had left the area where I’d last seen them and the entire place was too full of people for me to look too long for them.

Now very alone, I gave up and decided to go on home. As I was walking to the main road, I stopped at a vendor to buy some snacks, and this tall well-dressed man walked up to me and asked if I had change, as the vendor had refused to sell to him due to the high single naira note currency he had. Feeling generous, I offered to pay for whatever it was he wanted to buy. He thanked me and then insisted on paying me back. That was how we got into an argument which led to a conversation.

He told me his name was Suleiman, and when I asked what he did, he replied, “I’m a pastor.”

I found that confusing. I could see him clutching a subha (the Islamic prayer beads), so of course, he had to be Muslim. I asked for an explanation as to how he was a pastor and he laughed. With a smile, he told me he was an imam, the Muslim equivalent of what I understood to be a pastor. This really cracked me up. As I laughed, I noticed how he watched me in this very alluring way.

“What is it?” I asked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under his stare.

“Don’t worry,” he said before looking away.

“Talk to me,” I urged. “What’s on your mind?”

He opened his mouth as if to say something and then shut it again.

Two young guys walked up to him and bowed very lowly as they greeted him. They maintained their position as he asked them questions in Hausa. Then he gave them a few naira notes and they thanked him profusely before going away. This happened four other times, with different people approaching him to bow and go away with money. It seemed like every Muslim in that arena knew him.

I found myself enjoying Suleiman’s company. He was making me laugh and I liked him. I also noticed that whenever I laughed, his stare became quite intense, as though he was studying me or something.

“You must tell me why you keep looking at me in a funny way when I laugh,” I said.

“Are you sure you want to know?” he said with a slightly stern look.

There was something about this man’s aura that was pulling me like a magnet to him. I wasn’t sure if it was his towering height or striking Fulani features on his very dark skin, or if it was his sense of humour or clear command of English. I just couldn’t tell.

“Has anyone ever told you how charming your laughter is?” he suddenly said.

I became speechless. I hadn’t expected that. Had this man just complimented me? A flurry of emotions rocketed through me at that: confusion, shyness, happiness, suspicion among others.

He smiled as he said, “Don’t let it get into your head o. And don’t pretend like you are not fed up of hearing such compliments.”

I made a stuttering sound, still scrambling mentally for what to say.

He chuckled at this and turned to walk, gesturing for me to walk with him. As I fell into step beside him, he said teasingly, “Stop acting like some little school girl joor.”

Either this man held a PHD in wooing or he was just naturally sweet. I had fallen for him.

We talked some more, and he gave me so much insight on Islam. He was no doubt a man of spiritual depth and perspectives. One thing led to another and I think I must have asked him if imams observe celibacy like the priests in the Catholic Christian faith, and this led to us talking about sex. Suleiman was startlingly blunt and raw about the subject. It was very thrilling to hear him talk about sex like the regular carnal Nigerian. I mean, how this deeply spiritual man could be this “indecent” was something that sparked volcanoes in me.

However, something that turned me off in our discussion was the topic of what I considered extreme sexual acts. He casually mentioned scat sex and how the poop is supposed to be solid and not watery. From the way he sounded, it was apparent that he either indulged in scat sex or didn’t mind doing it. Realizing this cooled my raging erection somewhat.

I eventually got tired and wanted to leave the event. But I also didn’t want to go home alone. I wanted Suleiman to come home with me. When I suggested it, he said it’d be disrespectful to my host (I’d earlier told him I was visiting). I assured him that it wouldn’t be a problem, and he agreed.

By this time, we had exchanged enough vibes for me to be certain that Suleiman was as into me as I was into him.

“Do you have a big dick?” I questioned unabashedly as we walked to where we would find a taxi at that late hour.

He said, “Maybe.” Then seconds later, he added teasingly, “You know I’m Fulani, right?”

We decided to keep walking, seeing as we couldn’t find any taxi. As we walked, I reached out and touched his crotch. My hand connected with what could only be his dick, and – Oh my God! – it was a handful. He was semi-hard, so I could feel his pipe very well. He grabbed my butt and squeezed it before saying, “Nice.”

It was dark and the road was empty of any pedestrian or vehicular traffic, so we stopped and began to kiss very passionately.

I was getting wrapped up in the heat of the kiss when Suleiman suddenly pulled away from me and gasped for me to wait. His instincts seemed to have picked up something. But there was not a soul or vehicle in sight.

Just as I was about to ask him what the matter was, a car’s headlights appeared from a distance and was headed to us. As it drew closer, I could see that it was a police truck.

How on earth had he known the car was coming? I thought, slightly flustered by how close we’d come to getting nabbed.

The truck pulled up and two policemen came down. They asked us to identify ourselves. I had my school ID and Suleiman had some sort of ID on him as well, which we presented to them. One of the policemen asked us to “shake body”. Suleiman brought out a few naira notes and handed the money to him. Then the second one started acting aggressive and cussing under his breath as he made like he was searching me. He dug his hand into my pocket. I had five thousand naira and he took it all. Shocked, I began to protest, and the man reacted like it was an affront. Suleiman began begging him to pardon me while urging me to be quiet. To my horror, the policeman even threatened to shoot me on the spot and claim I was a thief and no one would do anything about it.

Eventually, they drove off. I had been robbed by policemen and I couldn’t do anything about it. I was so angry. Suleiman tried to cheer me up as he put his arms round my neck and promised to reimburse me my money.

Eventually, we made it home in one piece.

Of course, Eddy wasn’t home. Suleiman asked for the bathroom and I showed him. After sometime, he emerged, prayed and stripped down to his briefs. He had a lovely, slim build with little or no fat on it. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, and I was amazed that a man that age could have such a body. He joined in bed.

I still was moody from what happened with the policemen, and when he asked what he could do to cheer me up, I gave no reply. He tried tickling me but I didn’t like it. He then put his hands around me and cuddled me while telling me he understood how I felt. He went on to peck my cheek and then gently turning my face to meet his, he kissed me. Still, I didn’t really respond. He slowly put his hand into my shirt and began caressing my body as he kissed and licked my neck. Even though I was not feeling good, my dick was in full jubilation. As his fingers gently brushed my nipples, I couldn’t resist the thrilling jolt of sensation that zapped through me. I saw him smile when he noticed me tremble from his touch of my nipples. He did it again, but this time, the sensation wasn’t as electrifying as before. And he noticed. He must have felt challenged that he couldn’t repeat the magic, because he tried it another couple of times – each one becoming more boring than the last – before he raised my shirt and began sucking my nipple.

Now, that got me.

Because my nipples are very sensitive especially when a mouth is on them, I couldn’t resist my moaning as my body became buffeted by waves of pleasure. I felt my body soften and succumb to the possession of his touch. As he sucked my nipples, his right hand slowly slid under my bare back and lifted me to his body, giving me the feeling of being carried. His left hand ran all over my chest, played with my other nipple, stroked my dick, caressed my face, and just as I felt it couldn’t get any better, his fingers slid into my mouth, and boy, did I suck them.

I don’t know how my briefs completely came off, because when I was able to grasp a bit of consciousness from the overwhelming pleasure, I noticed I was completely naked and I had opened my legs wide for his fingers that were now buried inside my asshole. Suleiman had used my saliva to lubricate his fingers so he could finger-fuck me. My cock was throbbing very hard and oozing pre-cum. I tried to reach for his dick but he wouldn’t let me stroke it for long. His dick was so fat and long, a true machine of nature. It promised to be a real ass demolisher.

Suleiman fingered my asshole like it was a vagina. He dug his fingers in so deep and began to flick his finger on something inside my anus that made me vibrate from head to toe. I began to feel moist, and it had nothing to do with his spit-lubricated fingers. This was coming from me, and it was getting moister and moister by the second. Gasping, I sat up to check. My asshole was discharging a clear liquid that looked like precum. I had never seen or felt that before, and at this point, my entire asshole had dampened so much, that Suleiman’s fingering caused it to make loud, slurpy sounds.

HE HAD MADE ME WET!

He began kissing me as he changed the rhythm of his fingering. If I could faint, I would have done so a thousand times.

“Do you have a condom?” he whispered in my ear.

I had bought a packet of Rough Rider condoms from school just in case I was to have sex with Eddy.

Before long, Suleiman was sheathing his sword while I laid on my back with my legs raised in glorious hallelujah. Never had I attempted to take such a monster-looking dick like his before, but in the moment, I didn’t care. I craved to be fucked so badly, that I would have given up anything and everything if asked in that moment.

As he slid in, I sighed with pleasure as my anal walls moved and shifted to accommodate his dick. I was stunned. In all my years of bottoming, this was the first time I didn’t feel a pinch of pain when penetrated. Suleiman’s dick basically dropped into my hole. How he managed to make my asshole so loose, wet and welcoming remains a mystery to me till this day.

He fucked me to all the planets of the universe and back without a spaceship. It was the first time I came multiple times in a row and didn’t feel the need to stop. I wanted it to last forever.

“Can I cum on your face?” he asked as my legs rested on his solid shoulders while he humped. He was sweating and his mouth was hanging open with his tongue slightly out. He looked like a man who was loving every moment of my pussy.

“As you wish, daddy,” I moaned.

With a long, slow, deep kiss, he expressed his gratitude for my permission and changed the rhythm of his fucking. The smells of our sex – my cum, our body heat, the sweats and testosterone – were so strong that it was overwhelming. Even though the room was chilly from the air conditioner, we were both soaked in our perspiration.

“It’s coming, baby… It’s coming…” He began panting. “Oh yes… It’s coming… Aaaaahhhhhh!!! Yes, yessss… Ohhhh yesssssss!” He was groaning as he quickly yanked off the condom and began giving me world class facials; jet after jet of thick semen shot out of his dick and splattered on my face. When he was done, he rubbed the head of his fat dick on my lips.

“I wish you swallowed,” he said with a chuckle as he kissed me on my lips, before collapsing on the bed beside me.

“Damn,” he heaved. “That was ah-may-zing! I hope it was good for you.”

Good? It was FANTASTIC for me! I wanted to shout.

But all I found myself thinking was: How many guys has this man fucked from random meetings such as ours? Is this how he goes about looking for guys to enchant his way into their pants? He must be really good at his game if this is how good he fucks strangers.

“What is going through your mind?” he asked. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing, because you have that look like your gears are grinding away in your head.” He smiled.

I didn’t want to say anything. But the words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them. “How many guys have you done this with?”

He stiffened and then sat up. “Hey! Don’t just start with that! Because I should be the one asking you! Is this your house? Do you live in Abuja? Is this how you bring strangers to your space to fuck?” He sounded like a completely different person. The warmth in his voice had disappeared to be replaced by a coldness that stabbed at me like icicles. “Don’t just go there with me, you hear me? I’m not what you take me for. Far from it!” He was clearly pissed.

I started talking then. I told him how this trip was the first time I’d ever left school to go see anyone. I told him that I’d only ever had three sexual partners in my life, all of them currently ex boyfriends. I told him that my host was also a bottom and that we hadn’t even kissed.

When I was done talking, he said curtly, “Let me believe you.”

I waited a beat, then he sighed and his anger appeared to deflate. Then he started talking about how he’d been in Saudi Arabia for many years (to learn Arabic and for religious purposes) and how he started engaging in same sex practices after another imam seduced him.

“You have no clue how extreme these guys are sexually,” he said.

“You talked about scat back at the festival,” I said. “Is that one of the extreme things they did?”

He sighed before saying, “Yes.” Then he went on with, “Since I returned to Nigeria, I have kept mostly to myself.”

“When did you come back to Nigeria?” I asked.

“Over six years ago.”

“So you have not had sex in six years?” Wanting to pay him back in his own coin, I added, “Let me believe you.”

This ticked him off and his anger resurfaced as he snapped, “I am a man of faith. I don’t lie.”

I looked at his python-like dick lying on his thighs, and suddenly, all I could think of was another round. Without a word to him, I got on top of him and began to kiss him. He grudgingly kissed me back. After a few moments of passionate kissing, he pulled back and asked me when last I had sex. I told him.

“So you want to use me to make up for the seven months since you last had sex?” he said teasingly.

His charming self had returned.

To my delight, he got hard quickly. He asked me if we could go bareback. I was scared because even my ex-boyfriends had always used protection. He told me he’d only had bareback sex with the man who seduced him – his first – and that was ages ago. He wanted to know that feeling again. He swore with his prayer beads that he was disease-free and that everything he had told me was truth.

I was still hesitant and he could see that. As I rubbed his massive meat longingly on my super wet ass crack, he asked me to get a condom. Honestly, that was the last thing I remembered, because in the very next instant, I was grinding him with all my might. By the time it occurred to me that I was getting fucked raw, Suleiman had begun to moan and groan as he sat up and began kissing me like my mouth was some life support. He squeezed me so tight to the point he was shivering uncontrollably, and then I felt it, a rush inside me like a jet of tap water; juice of the richest quality and quantity filling me up with vitality and nourishment.

We stayed in that position, me straddling him and both of clasped together, for what appeared to be a long time before we disengaged. We took our bath and slept off.

I woke up really late the next morning to find him gone. For a moment, I panicked as I imagined that he had disappeared from my life as unceremoniously as he came into it. And I wouldn’t know how to get him back, seeing as I didn’t have his number or any contact details of his.

Then I saw some missed calls and two text messages on my phone. They were from him. He must have dialed his number with mine to be able to get my number. The first text said he’d had to leave early for an appointment, and he didn’t want to wake me, what with how deeply I was sleeping. The second text contained an address and he asked me come to it from 4:30 pm, when he would be home, so that he could fulfill his promise of reimbursing me the five thousand naira the policemen stole from me.

I washed the bed sheet because it was soiled with semen, sweat and ass juice. As I washed, it occurred to me then that Suleiman had fucked me with his extra large cock without any lubricant. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted him inside me again.

By 5 PM, I left for the address in my phone. I met him there, at what was clearly his house. He introduced me to his older brother, who actually owned the house, and he was very hospitable. We all ate together from one plate and his brother gave me ten thousand naira as compensation for what his brother told me happened to me.

Their living room was adorned with photos of many imams, which Suleiman proudly showed off to me. There was also a big, framed photo of Suleiman dressed in white regalia, holding the subha in hands that were opened in an Islamic prayer style. All around the frame of the picture were engraved Arabic words. He showed me the photo of the man who seduced him in Saudi Arabia, and I was surprised to see it was a cold-faced aging Arab with huge grey beards and the most bushy eye brows I’d ever seen. I don’t know what I’d been expecting but I would never have known he was a homosexual if Suleiman hadn’t told me.

After spending some time together, it was time for me to return to Eddy’s place. Suleiman went back to the house with me. We sat on the bed and talked. He said he was leaving the next morning for Jigawa, and by the time he would be back, I would definitely be back to base. He urged me to come visit his brother, even in his absence, any time I wanted, so as to be more acquainted with his family. He also informed me that he had an office inside the central mosque and encouraged me to visit anytime I was around. He was warm as ever, and I was surprised by his openness to me.

Before he left, we kissed for the longest time and he asked me to forgive him for not having the strength to fuck me.

“You have exhausted me,” he said.

It was up to five minutes after he left that I heard Eddy at the door. He was back. The timing was so close that I was sure he must have met Suleiman in the stairwell. I was so relieved that the building consisted of several blocks of flats, so there’d be no way Eddy would know that Suleiman was coming from his house.

“You missed o!” he gushed as he bustled into the parlour. “There was this hot man I saw coming out of the building. Chai!” he exclaimed lustily. “He is a real man! Tall! Resemble Fulani! You know say those people carry big prick! I wonder who in this building he came to fuck!”

I hid a smile as I held Suleiman’s essence close to me.

“You should have said hello na,” I said.

“I did o, but he didn’t answer me. He was just squeezing his face like shit wey them shoot catapult.” Eddy sounded miffed now.

I smiled again. But the smile faded away as I walked into my room as I suddenly realized that I may never see Suleiman again.

And I didn’t. I never saw him again. We tried to stay in touch but the long distance and different life commitments wore off our communication. I would eventually forget all about him, not remembering him until one balmy day in July 2018.

Such is life.

Written by Kvng

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11 Comments

  1. Mitch
    January 07, 08:38 Reply

    In the mighty name of Beyoncé, you people will not give me a hard-on. You will not remind me of my non-existent sex life. You will not make me feel bad about myself. In the mighty name of Beyoncé, I pray.

  2. GTee
    January 07, 09:35 Reply

    This story is from Teebeeliciouz group on Facebook with exact caption

  3. bamide
    January 07, 10:09 Reply

    What a wicked fellow you are, kvng?
    How dare you post such a beautiful story and and end it. It was supposed to continue forever….
    Thank you for making me start my day with such a beautiful story

  4. Olutayo
    January 07, 11:59 Reply

    Somehow, reading this story here makes it more refreshed and better. Lol. I remember Suleiman. Kai. The man who made me want to go to HOTR’s The Experience one year like that just so I could find my Suleiman. Whoever said Jesus is not for the gays obviously never read this story.

  5. ken
    January 07, 12:20 Reply

    All i know is sex is overrated. Nobody can convince me otherwise.
    Shallom

  6. Greenfox
    January 07, 18:44 Reply

    Omo nah wah o… You truly had a nice experience. But why did you end it like this ? I certainly hope for a part 2. Maybe it’s time for me to tell my story as I have been a ghost reader for more than 3 years

  7. Mandy
    January 07, 22:14 Reply

    Ah, 2006. That idyllic period of selling recharge cards for money, Manjam and trusting that instant hookups won’t turn to kito.

    Then 2014 happened.

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