Malebutt-e1384905210556My name is KingBey, and I’m twenty-nine years old. Judging from stories I’ve heard and things I’ve observed, I’d have to say I officially bloomed into an active gay man quite late. I had my first sexual experience, both with a girl and a guy, at age twenty-three, well after I had left the university. I’d had feelings for guys earlier though, but the most I did was smooching back in the boarding house of my secondary school days.

I had this habit of reading while sitting on the toilet seat when I was much younger. I only realized that it was a bad habit to stay longer than necessary on the toilet seat a little bit too late. I also used to have mad cravings for sweets and confectionary. My best snack even until early this year remained biscuits and chocolate flavored ice cream. I had such a sweet tooth.

I started out having penetrative gay sex by being the Top. But in 2009, I was into a lot of experimenting, and one of such endeavours was when I tried taking a dick up my ass. The other guy was much younger and I tried to sit on his dick. I had to stop when I felt a sharp bolt of pain shoot up my spine, and subsequently realized there was blood everywhere. It was not a funny experience. I simply decided there and then that perhaps I’m not cut out to swing both ways, and maintained my role as a Top. Continue reading

On A Side Note

Who knew celebrities could be as catty as you and I? Remember when you had that social media spat with that friend or acquaintance, and you had enough of seeing him or her on your Timeline. What else is there left to do? You hit the Block button.

Well apparently celebrities have such mortal imperfections as well. Remember Keith Carlos, the male model who won Tyra Banks’ America’s Next Top Model? Well, he must have pissed off Tyson Beckford so much that the dude blocked him on Instagram. So the other dude be trying to say hello, to find himself unable to access Tyson. Lol. Check on it

‘You can learn from me too…’ Am I the only one who thinks that’s a not-so-subtle shade? Lol. Kai! Keith Carlos, you really tried it. What I’d give to be a fly on the wall of the room when this beef between you and Tyson is getting discussed.

In The Lonely Hour

Sad-Black-man-galleryThe other day, Chucks (not real name) messaged me to tell me he would be in Lagos in a couple of days. I was ecstatic because we had planned this meet for ages. Chucks lives in Abuja, is in his mid 30s and is married with kids. He asked me to help make enquiries about a decent hotel where we could spend the night as his flight was scheduled to arrive very late.

All was going fine till he casually dropped… “Do you mind if I come with a friend, for a threesome?”

Words I’d heard before, a preposition I was used to getting and something I had indulged a few times during my ‘threesome fantasy days’.

I don’t exactly know what it was this time, maybe the casual way it was dropped, but I absolutely lost it. I went from teasing about how I couldn’t wait to ride his very married dick to unleashing a slur of venom on him. Such was my vitriol that all he kept saying was sorry over and over again. But I wasn’t done; I went on to say I didn’t want anything to do with him and deleted his numbers. Oh, and also blocked him on Whatsapp for added affect.

Yet the anger wouldn’t abate. I went from being angry to being really upset to the point that I was on the verge of tears. I knew why I was upset but I didn’t want to admit so. Continue reading


barefoot_walkingI grew up with my fair share of insecurities. Insecurities over my complexion, my writing, parts of my anatomy, my personality and eventually, my sexual orientation. However, unlike most acquaintances I’ve made who spoke of the demons they fought over their sexualities, torments that pushed them to extremes like fasting and attempting suicide, I never once let the fact that I was different bring that much darkness inside me. I had bouts of depression, yes. But I was basically still a child, loved, pampered and blissfully unaware that my difference could pose a real problem in my adulthood.

However, I got older, and became more aware of the world around me. I began to realize the extent of society’s disdain for my kind of person. I fell prey to a homophobic opportunist; I was kito-ed. I heard the stories. I shuddered at other people’s experiences. I began to know the fear. Depression threatened ever so often. Questions about the future began to plague me: Do I want to be this person? What about my family? Do I want to risk alienation from them by staying true to myself? What about marriage? Can I stand marital eternity with a human being I feel no sexual attraction for? Can I live that lie? Do I want to? Shouldn’t I want to? Does not getting married mean I’ll lack companionship as I age? What about children? What about old age? What about the continuation of my legacy? Continue reading

What Was Your First Time Like? 15 Guys Share Their First Gay Hookup Stories

There’s really nothing like that very first time, when awkward fumbling and nervous excitement begets either ecstatic pleasure or embarrassing failure. Luckily, most of us get lots of chances to try, try again.

For better or for worse, everyone remembers their first time.

Here to take you back to those formative years are fifteen Whisper about that first time hooking up with a guy.

Enjoy. And perhaps tell us about your first time in the comments section. :)w1 Continue reading


bigstock-happy-black-man-4158483Writer’s Note: There will be pauses in between the narration of this story, to analyze the things that got me suspicious.

It was a throbbing Thursday, and I just had to hold something that throbs, anything actually. My not-so-real name is Adrian anyway, and Christopher was my throbbing Thursday rendezvous.

Let’s go back to like few months before throbbing Thursday. Christopher and I had been chatting on Facebook for quite a while. I’d had my eyes on him for quite a while on the social media, but I didn’t know how to get him to look my way.

Then his father died! Yay, this was my chance. Okay, I didn’t mean to take advantage of a man’s death, but the heart wants what it wants. Mine wanted Christopher. Did I mention Christopher is over 6ft tall, light in complexion, well built, and when I say well built, I don’t mean the steroid-induced-well-built, I mean the evidence-of-good-workout-well-built. He always reminded me of a sculpture of a Greek god.

On the day his father died, he posted the info on Facebook. I promptly chatted him up. He responded. Before then, he had the habit of forming Mister Busy for me. Luckily for me, he had my time that day. I offered my condolences and I asked his permission to write a piece in honour of his father. He gave me the go-ahead. I put pen to paper and came up with something real, not too many smart words, and he loved it. He posted it on Facebook, and it got a lot of positive comments. We started chatting a lot more than before, and I was like, Mission accomplished. Continue reading