His name is Elijah (not his real name). He is a bouncer whom I met at an eatery which also doubles as a bar. The day I met him was the day I went with a friend of mine to the joint. My friend is the closest you can come to being openly gay in Nigeria, considering how choking and oppressive Nigerian society is to gays. He seems to have this knack for knowing all the gays in any place he spends even just a few weeks in. Anyway, he knew Elijah and so few minutes after we entered the bar, Elijah came to join us at our table. He sat with us till very late into the night, as he and my friend obviously knew each other very well and had a lot of catching up to do.
My heart pattered with excitement each time I looked at Elijah. Jeez! He was phynnne! Hunky and tall. Unspoiled dark complexion. Rippling muscled physique. I decided that it wasn’t fair for my friend to have all the fun, and I therefore embarked on a shameless flirting session with Elijah. We hit it off smoothly like a well-greased screw in a hole (or shall I say, a well-lubed dick in a hole … lol).
Within the following week, we had hung out three times. It was easy to see that we both enjoyed each other’s company immensely; and so when he invited me over to his place for a visit, I immediately agreed without missing a heartbeat.
The agreed day for my visit soon came, and it had turned out to be one of those hectic and extremely tiring days which leave you drained and exhausted, and at the end of which you crave nothing but a nice long bath, a warm meal and the blissful embrace of deep slumber. Sex was the last thing on my mind on this particular day, I was totally knackered.
But I felt obliged to see Elijah. So I went ahead to keep our date. When I got to his place, we chitchatted for a while. With the intention of taking a bath, I even undressed until I was clad in just my singlet and boxers.
One thing however led to the other, and we soon started making out. I wanted to make out with him for just a little bit, and then call it a night. My libido was at an all-time low. I simply was in no mood to go any further than the kissing.
It soon became clear that he wanted to go the whole hog, he wanted a nice dirty romp in bed. And come rain or shine, he was determined to get it. His hands were creeping all over my body, his fingers feverishly slipping down to my ass and attempting to slip my boxers off. I caught the adventurous hand, pulling it to a stop. And while trying to catch my breath from the frenzy of our kissing, I gently explained to him that I’d had an extremely exhausting day and would really appreciate it if we could save the sex for another day when I was more energetic.
My explanation, it seemed, fell on deaf ears. Perhaps he assumed that part of my foreplay was inducing a chase and enjoying the thrills which would follow, because the more I resisted his attempts to have his way with me, the more forcefully he attempted to have his way. He tried all manner of persuasion. At first, he pleaded, sulked, and tried to use the foreplay to melt my resolve. And when those didn’t work, he became physically violent. His grip on my body became tighter and his face tightened into a grim mask. Whereas initially, he’d been gently parrying my resisting gestures to keep him off undressing me, his touch lost its gentleness and he began trying to yank my briefs away from around my hips.
This alarmed me. Elijah is a bouncer, much bigger than I am, and endowed with powerful muscles, as opposed to my slender build. In any physical contest, I was going to be no match for him. My alarm and fear increased when I realized that I was pinned down beneath his massive and powerfully built frame. I could not kick him in the groin or strike him anywhere else, and was therefore totally and completely at his mercy. I could see his hard-on jutting angrily at me from his crotch, and in that moment, there was nothing faintly desirous about the sight of that hard, thick dick.
I thought of crying out for help, but I swiftly realized the foolhardiness of this move. It would be awkward explaining the situation to a gathered crowd of neighbours. My only option was to beg, and hope that my pleas would somehow pierce his lust-induced haze. The thought of him ravaging my behind in his present state ratcheted my panic up several notches. And I pleaded more earnestly, blinking a tear or two out of my eye, anything to stop this guy from crossing the line.
Apparently, he was too far gone down the path of determination, as my pleas and small cries seemed to egg him on and excite him further. At this point, I was starting to resign myself to the fact that I would indeed soon become a rape victim – a thing I had previously thought to be impossible. I seethed with rage as tears of frustration began to gather behind my eyelids.
Suddenly, a sharp knock sounded on the door. We both froze. And a voice called from outside; his friend who had showed up for a visit unannounced. This seemed to jolt Elijah out of his haze and galvanized him into action, as he quickly let go of me and tried to tidy up the room where things had been knocked from their usual positions during my ill-fated struggle. We didn’t speak to each other, as I hurriedly located my clothes and dressed in record time. I don’t think I have ever dressed up that fast in my entire life; it was like I threw the clothes onto my body and they magically found their designated position. Soon, he opened the door to his friend, and after mumbling my goodbye, I fled from the apartment, my heart still pounding out of fear of what might have been.
He later apologized profusely, saying he had been high on weed and therefore not in control of himself. I forgave him and tried to put the terrifying and nasty incident behind me. We are still friends, we hang out from time to time; but I have vowed and stuck to my vow to never visit his apartment ever again. I have developed a mortal fear – something close to a phobia of his apartment and therefore even ten wild horses tied together cannot drag me in there again. I am deeply afraid that if he were to get a second chance, I would not be as lucky as I was the last time. And who’s to say that this time, he’d be the only lust-crazed, drug-intoxicated, pumped-up brute damning all reason to fuck the bejesus out of me? I just can’t deal.
Written by Blue Fox