“Uh-oh! I like men, I like men, I like men, I kept repeating to myself even as our lips met and her hands grabbed my boobs.”
Who knew that it would be so lonely and boring over here in England? So much for all the excitement of finally getting to leave Nigeria for greener pastures. Are there greener pastures? Yes, there’s work opportunities and I am able to make money and all but that is where it ends here. No friendship, no human touch, just you and these Oyinbo people whom you dare not greet twice to avoid any ‘bombastic’ side-eye.
Well, there is one person that is so close to being a friend, from South Africa, a fellow nurse and a housemate. The closest we ever got to being friends was when we had to use the kitchen at the same time and all we ever did was exchanged few words of pleasantries and that was it, until one day when I got back from work and as I tried to unlock my door, I heard whimpers from her room as if someone’s crying. I wanted to pretend that I didn’t hear it but I am a Nigerian, of course I have a very large heart and may not forgive myself if I didn’t check up on her. My ancestors may not even let me rest at all, you see.
I walked up and gently knocked on her door. “Come in, the door is open” was the stifled reply I got and so I let myself in. The sight I saw before me was pitiful, red and swollen eyes, and a lot of used tissues on the floor, you could tell that she had been crying for a while. “Hey, you okay?” I asked as I slowly sat beside her on her bed “How am I supposed to be okay?” She broke down again and this time I pulled her in for a hug as she wept more on my shoulders, there… the African spirit!
“What happened?” “I am so lonely… I am so horny… I miss being touched in all of the places that I love to be touched and my girlfriend back at home just broke up with me.” In my head I was like whoa hey! Girlfriend?! But I kept my calm. “That must be really hard, I am so sorry, you’ll be fine, her loss.” I pulled her off my shoulder to look into her eyes and say something encouraging but when our eyes met, words got stuck in my throat. She bit her lower lips as she stared at my lips… “Uh-oh! I like men, I like men, I like men”, I kept repeating to myself even as our lips met and her hands grabbed my boobs.
I guess I had missed physical touch so much that my body couldn’t resist everything that this South African lady was doing to me and left my brain to focus on heaven alone, all by itself. My pants were immediately soaked from seriously dripping wetness and I found myself groping for her boobs under her shirt. I went so wild that it was I who had the first go at eating her dark, well shaved, sweet smelling, and wet coochie.
I could tell that she meant every word she said about missing touch from the way she was moaning and saying sweet nothings. Soon she started shivering with orgasm and I felt proud of myself. It was my turn and this aunty brought out a huge dildo strap on, she ate my coochie for a little while, strapped the strap on, around her waist and started fucking me like a man would, it felt so good and even better when she would kiss me as she fucked me. She dominated all through and I loved it. She didn’t stop until I came and we ever since then started spending more time together.
I am not gay, I am just currently making do with what I have because “I can’t come and go and die”
