FOREWORD: This is a tentative nonfictional series (the first out of two, and tentative because the writers haven’t committed fully to the idea) that will be the narration of man’s basic desire – Sex. (Sapiosexuals, you may look away now) ‘The Hook-Up Story’ is a narration of Regal Sweetheart’s sexcapades, and the second series is that of KingBey (he’s still working out some kinks).
If you haven’t read the debut of Regal Sweetheart’s Hook-Up Story, you may check it out HERE. And now, for the second episode, read and enjoy.
It was supposed to be a Sunday like every other. Wake up early, go to church and be useful, then come back and work till late. I’m one who works everyday to keep the bills paid and have some extra, as I like to be independent. Plus, I love what I do for work. It entails me going from place to place and speaking quite educatedly.
But this Sunday was different. I swear, the heavens must have set ‘Lazy Song’ as my soundtrack for the day, because not only did I not go to church, I also slept back after a few hours of my waking and almost missed the time for work. Almost.
Anyway, I freshened up and put on a cool ensemble which both befitted the weather and maintained my fashionability. Being good-looking is serious business, biko. So, I stepped out to the first point of call and I was enjoying work. It was fun and all, and then I decided to check in with my hookup app – just to see who was around and whose message(s) needed to be responded to or ignored. Quite frankly, I wasn’t in the giving mood; I was fine for the day. Or so I thought. Recently, I’d just been checking my apps out of boredom, or maybe to be acquainted with someone who’s my specs. They didn’t really get to the meet part. I think I was becoming notorious for that because contrary to what people believe, I chat and meet online, but hardly in person.
So presently, I got messages from old acquaintances, saw some interesting profiles and initiated some convos… And then, he sent a message. Three messages, to be exact. Pictures. Now, I’ve been using social media and dating apps, and so I have come across – and recognised almost instantly – people who use models’ pictures and unrealistic descriptions in their profiles. This one looked too fine, and so I thought he was one of them. I wasn’t moved by the other two pictures – his ass and then his upper body from behind. I’ve seen enough of asses and dicks, and I’m almost not thrilled anymore.
So, as I usually do when people ‘assault’ me with nudes, I sent him my torso picture and two of my dick pictures. He responded that they were nice, and then added that he was Negative, and proceeded to send me a screenshot of his latest test result. Now, in this society, there are a lot of people walking around with HIV and other diseases and I do not discriminate against them. I’ve met very wonderful people who are Positive and even connected on an intimate level with one such person, who is a mirror image of me. We share similar interests, have same passions, were born around the same time and all. So, it’s easy for me to relate.
But to be this forthcoming…me, I no understand. And I know that people do tell lies to get what they want, so my alarm bells were ringing. But I no fear, because I get tested regularly. At some point, the doctors politely told me, “Erm…we seem to be seeing you quite too often for all these checks. You need to take it easy on yourself and don’t be as apprehensive. You’re Top and so, the risks are very, very low for you. Plus, these tests cost us money, as we need to restock our testing kits and all.” (Yeah, the tests are free for me, so why won’t I check regularly?).
Anyway, I replied to this new acquaintance that I was negative too. However, I wasn’t keen on meeting him. I had another place I needed to be. He asked me what time would be appropriate for us to meet and I told him 10pm. This was on one hand a bid to dismiss him, because there are many people who are raging fires and need to be quenched ASAP online. On the other hand, it was true, because I would only just be returning to that area around 10pm. He agreed to meeting at 10 and sent me further pictures. We exchanged numbers and I headed over to Whatsapp, where I saw his picture, in a shirt and tie. Hmm. Film trick is turning to real life.
I carried on with work as usual, having a good day. At a few minutes past 9pm, work was done for the day and just as I was making my way home, he sent a message, asking if I was done for the day and if we were still up for 10. I was a tad impressed. He either had to be genuine and civilised or a determined catfish. Either way, I’d had a good day and I was ready to be amused further.
I got his house address from him and started making my way to his place. I got there at around past 10. I met him. I was impressed, to say the least. Asides being the one in the pictures sent earlier, he turned out to be cuter than those. A pretty decent apartment all to himself, and it was dimly lit, but I could see a tall shelf of books. He was a reader. Impressive, again. Ok. This was seeming too good to be true. I got into his bedroom and he asked me to be comfortable. He had his recreational drugs in place and music playing from his PC. He offered me soda, which I gladly accepted. And then we talked a bit, in a bid to familiarize ourselves with each other. Oh…I should mention that we had talked about fantasies and sexual boundaries earlier in the day. I’m a good guy, and so, I’m not extreme and thus, most of my fantasies had been fulfilled. Most. He talked about his, which included being dominated, being slightly abused, being fisted. I think he said something about water sport as well, but that was waaay too extreme for me. I’m really not a fan of that, and I don’t encourage it. As I hadn’t fisted anyone before, I was curious, and it was a motivating factor that brought me to his place.
True to our discussion, he was extreme, and the different dildo sizes proved it. Double-ended dildo, 9 inch dildo, 13 inch dildo, 15 inch dildo, and one thicker than my arm. Today na today! That nyash go tear! While I was settling in, he took off his shirt. My goodness! He was just as fit as the pictures. But wait, what was I expecting? I already saw that he was the one. Was his body supposed to be different? Toned body, face like an Olympian demigod. He got to his knees, and looking into my eyes, began to undo my shoes slowly. Submission. Just like he liked. I must’ve been dreaming. I thought it was the drink I had that was laced. But no. It had begun.
I let him take the shoes and socks off, and he played with my feet in some form of worship. Then, I took my clothes off – my fabulous ensemble. Took a bit of a while, but it was done. I sat back on the chair and he gave me head that made sense. He was doing a good job and I felt like returning the favor. He sported an 8 incher. Not bad. I extended my hand behind his head and back to his rear. Smooth. No sores or growths. Upon insertion of my index finger, it came out clean. This guy just kept ticking the boxes.
I moved him to the bed, and it was a 69. I brought my rim game on as a compliment to his dutiful task being carried out. Soon, we got to the main act and he didn’t disappoint. He got on his back and splayed his legs. I got into position and began to deliver, like I knew how to. He was responsive as well, but just enough to maintain his submission. He clearly knew the difference between being submissive and being lazy. As we got more intense, he had me grab his neck while I carried on. That “this is yours, do as you will” look and gesture. I switched it up a notch then. I decided to dominate and I had him on his knees, with his perfect mould of an arse facing me. The way he assumed the position – just perfect. He was a pro at this. Made my job easier and I just carried on like a stallion.
As part of our session, he gradually introduced a dildo and soon, I was ploughing him in collaboration with a dildo the size of my plunger. It felt awkward at first, but I got used to it. Soon, it became boring and uncomfortable, so I flung the rubber away. Fifteen minutes and three more positions after, and I got to the fifth heaven.
We took a break as he needed to relax and prepare for session two. Then he brought it up. I’d told him I hadn’t done it before. He took his time to explain the mechanism to me, how there were different kinds of fisting, the different experience levels and the study into it he had done. He was more of a wide fistee, he said, as opposed to deep fistees that could take in NEPA poles and still ask for more. And then, some who could take in oil barrels and go about their business like it was a thermometer.
Anyway, he explained the process to me and guided me through the loosening up process – first, four fingers at once, very slowly, and then including the palm. Interchanging the hands very slowly, then building speed. Soon, it was all five fingers, and then both hands clapped together; slowly then building up tempo. Then it progressed to a fist. A fist! I never would have believed that the human rectum was that expandable, but there I was, putting a punch in there. All through, I was marveling at the human body’s ability to adapt to such conditions. He had explained that the human body can and does adjust itself to fitting those situations, and in a couple of minutes our hours, return to normal, depending on the elastic limit being reached. Soon afterwards, he called it enough for the day, and that lessons would commence another day. I was more than filled, but he hadn’t cum. He couldn’t. A result of the recreational substance he had taken. We discussed further, other aspects of our lives and soon, I was dressed and on my way…
Written by Regal Sweetheart