A Stormy Night


Another Kito-Diaries-sian has volunteered a story of an encounter in his life. Nonfiction and quite graphic. So please guys, all those in favour of no-sex updates, now’s the time to stop reading.


No? You’re sure? Oh well, here Nuel Anthony’s A stormy Night. Read and enjoy.


moonlight-rainfall-live-wp-hd-1-1-s-307x512It had rained heavily throughout that day and we knew it would continue into the night! Thunder and lightning hammering and crackling ‎as though Poseidon and Thor were at war. Yeah, it was the season, and the water kept pouring from the skies in reckless abandon. My restless mind couldn’t be thankful enough that I and Onyeka were home alone. My sister had travelled with her husband and the kids the previous day leaving the two of us at home.

Now, Onyeka – he’s the younger brother to my sister’s husband. 6.2 ft tall, well built, great dimpled smile, and he always appears to have this look in his eyes that always says, “I’m here, rip me apart!” He had just finished his Youth Service at Okene and had come to Lagos in search of a job. That night when he arrived at the house – Gawd, I no fit forget! He had come out of the room to join us in the sitting room with only his boxers hanging from his thin, streamlined waist. I couldn’t resist drinking in the sight of him, making out every curve and bulge on that gorgeous body of his. And there was nothing disappointing on that body. As he approached the seat where I was, I noticed the bulge behind his boxers dangle from left to right. I swallowed hard at the sight. In my mind, I screamed, “Wow!”

So back to my story. Continue reading


Remember Brandon Rock, the narrator of My Love Affair With The Help (Read HERE), well, he’s  back with another real life encounter, and this one is just as steamy as the first. Read and . . . well, get turned on. lol


img-thing (1)I schooled in Enugu and lived part of my life there as well. I was always referred to as nwa mummy or ajebo because of my gentle nature which at times became effeminate when I was in my element. My nature was the reason my father insisted I attend a hard-line all-male educational institute that would toughen me up and make me shed my softness, since my mother had outrightly refused to let him sending my brother and I to a military school.

Eventually my father had his way and I was carted away from the comfort of my home and private school to the East to school. It was a nightmare, having to cope in the Igbo-speaking, rough, all-boys school I was enrolled in. but I managed and passed from class to class, and made a few friends along the way.

And then I was in my senior class. Back in those days, in Enugu, there existed a hot spot, a swimming pool in a place called the Sports Club. It was always filled up on weekends and was the hottest spot in town. Continue reading


gay_love_400He was a strapping young lad, sixteen years old. He worked in our house, not very smart looking. Just a kid with freckles doing manual things. He wore linen shorts most of the time, and behaved like all sixteen year old house boys.

Then I began to notice that this tiny boy had a big penis. Height wise, he was probably five feet. Dick wise, he was Texas. No, all fifty-one states and then some.

He would be sitting around and he would have spontaneous erections. And to make it worse, he seemed totally oblivious. I was inflamed with lust and curiosity at the wonder of that massive bulge on such a tiny person . . . So, I watched for days . . . Until my opportunity came. Continue reading


This is quite the graphic narrative, a walk down memory lane by a new Kito-Diaries-ian, Brandon Rock. Like I said, it’s real and its graphic, a cautionary foreword for readers with delicate sensibilities. Otherwise, read and . . . well, enjoy. Lol.


NigerianDuring my senior secondary school days, I always joined my landlord’s kids to school in their car because they passed through the route to my school, and that was a great convenience. It was also a slight inconvenience because since they always woke up early in order to beat the usual morning traffic congestion in the city of Port Harcourt, I had to wake up early too.

On this fateful morning, I woke up unusually early. I was dressed up for school and was idling away. I knew my landlord’s children wouldn’t be ready at the time; I however decided to go wait for them outside their bungalow until they were ready to leave.

It was about a few minutes past 5am when I got into their compound. The compound was dead quiet and empty, except for Akpan, one of their drivers, who was washing the car. I’d seen Akpan regularly and never took any interest in him.

Until that morning. Continue reading


homosexualsI spend most of my holiday periods texting and meeting up with different interesting guys, falling in and out of lust with them. The best part of it all is always the amazing sex that we have. I heard once that gay dudes are more sexually active that straight people. I don’t know whether this is true or not, but I can’t help the fact of wanting to breed a good bottom’s ass and leaving my cum on him.

I was with a dude last summer. Lanre. We fell in love fast and for some reason I wanted to date him. At least have a boyfriend, you know, the joy and all. I remember that one time at his place; he came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around him. I smiled at him, enjoying the sight of his body glistening from his bath.

And then he muttered, “I want you to fuck me.” Continue reading


gay-bed1My tale is not quite different from every gay boy that grew up in this country. The feeling of being alone, scared and judged by everyone you know, even your parents. I had my first sex at 18, with a boy I really cared about. However, it didn’t take long before our egos took over the relationship. By this time, I had accepted who I am. A boy that loves to eat and fuck ass.

Then, this urge came in. The urge to fuck, to caress and dump my load in some pretty boy. My friends said my urge was normal and I was acting out because I broke up with my boyfriend. But no, it was more than that. I craved sex, not love. Does this make me a hoe?

I wanted it. I didn’t want to belong to anyone. Love didn’t mean much to me anymore because of the state of the nation. Different laws that prevents the embrace of my sexuality in public places. So I took my phone and created a second profile on twitter and began to meet people and do hook-ups in different hotels and even their places. Continue reading