I’ve always been quiet and reserved, except around very close friends, then I’d be the silly one who would say witty things to make them laugh.
I moved into a neighbourhood in Surulere I didn’t quite like. So I kept to myself all the time. I’d say hello to people on my way out to work and back, but I never stopped to say more than two sentences to anyone. Kept me out of trouble.
One hot Sunday afternoon, a few months after I had moved there, I fell asleep after doing my routine push-ups and planks, and having a cool bath. I forgot to lock the steel protector gate and left my glass sliding door wide open for air to come in, but my curtains were closed, so people couldn’t look in. There was no light, I didn’t intend to sleep, but I enjoyed the cool touch of the afternoon breeze way too much to get up and secure my house. I’d taken a bath earlier, and so after lying on my bed awake for a few moments, I slept off, nude.
And then, I had a dream.
In the dream, I was having sex with the most beautiful creature. I still am not sure if it was a he or a she, but it was beautiful, and the experience was equally wonderful. However, despite how good I felt in my privates, I couldn’t feel the touch of this creature I was holding. It was in my arms, and yet, it wasn’t. In the dream, its skin seemed to be satiny-smooth but it felt like I was touching air. But my dick felt good, so that didn’t matter.
However, whatever that creature was doing was getting me closer and closer to a climax. I could feel the orgasm rushing toward me with a speed that was heightening my senses in a way that seemed way too ACTUAL. And then it came, the climax, making me draw in a long breath of the suddenly still afternoon air and I woke with a start, my eyes blinking open–
To see him sucking my dick like his life depended on it.
He was a young bright-eyed lad from my neighbourhood. He told me he loved the fit of my suit one time. I did not suspect a thing.
However, in that moment, I didn’t recoil from him. I didn’t shove him away. I simply laid back there, stayed still, watching him, aghast, horror, surprise and pleasure intermingling and bombarding my senses as I watched him mouth-in the end-products of my orgasmic wet dream. The boy kissed the crown of my still-throbbing dick and looked up at me. Then he murmured something, got up off me, went to the bathroom to spit out my cum, came back, sat down pristinely on the chair and tried to make small talk. That didn’t quite work. My brain was too busy being in post-climax shock to let me engage in a meaningful conversation.
The weirdness must have gotten to him, because then, he said something about having chores to do, rose from my chair and left. I got up after him, still in awe of his guts, and shut my door behind him.
I’m still not quite sure if I should have felt like a stud after that, or violated.
And in the days that followed, I took a different route out of the neighbourhood to work, and always, ALWAYS kept my door locked. Everytime.
Written by Chuks Bass