LOVE AND SEX IN THE CITY (Episode 37)

Blog_Love And Sex In The City 02FOREWORD: This episode of Love And Sex In The City takes on an issue that has been over-flogged on Kito Diaries. My intention to tackle the issue amongst Declan and his friends isn’t to spark another debate, but to show up another facet on the individual personalities of these eight young men.

On that note, I would like to apologize profusely for the delay in the continuation of the series. The muses of creativity broke up with me for awhile, but thankfully, we have reconciled and intend to live happily ever after from now henceforth. 😀 Read and enjoy.

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“Mmm…Yum!” Yinka murmured, allowing himself a soft moan after he spooned a small mound of ice cream into his mouth. His jaw moved rhythmically as he savoured the taste, his eyes closed to shut out all other visual stimuli. “Mmm-mmm-mmm,” he said. “This ice cream is just hitting all the right spots, I’m telling you.”

There were some chuckles from our table as Paschal said, “When ice cream starts giving you this kind of pleasure, that’s when you know it’s time to get a fuck, like really fast.” Continue reading

That Piece About The Difference Between Fucking, Sex And Making Love

difference-between-making-love-and-sex-gay-guysOriginally published on gayguys.com

I’ve had all kinds of sex, honey – some at my prime, others not so much. What I’ve realized, now that I’m at an age to look back, is that most of what I call “bad sex” happened in my early-twenties when I was still trying to figure it out. Thank God the time has passed and I can share what I’ve learned.

What is the difference between fucking, sex, and making love? We all have our own interpretations of it – I’m sure even after I give my opinion on the topic, you will have an opposing one. To me, sex is more than just about penetration. Sometimes it doesn’t even have to involve it. What matters most to me is the intention behind – that in itself sets the meaning of the word. Continue reading

LOVE AND SEX IN THE CITY (Episode 36)

Blog_Love And Sex In The City 02“You know you overreacted, right?” Dotun said.

“In hindsight, yes, I know that,” I replied, standing by the lone window in his office and looking out into the street. It was 4:30pm on Monday, and the afternoon light was slanting westward, casting the beginnings of the evening shadows in corners of the room.

“And when did you come into this hindsight?” He was teasing, and the remark drew a rueful smile from me. I’d just finished narrating the story of my fight yesterday with Bryson to him. I’d needed somebody to talk to, and he’d been a willing ear.

“I had most of yesterday, after I got home, to stew over our fight. Then I got sidetracked with family stuff and didn’t have time to dwell much on it. Then I went to bed, and by the time I woke up this morning, I found myself missing him.” I turned to face Dotun. “I believe I’m falling in love with him, and it scares me.”

“Why? Because of some flirty messages you saw a few guys send to him?”

“It’s not about the messages. It’s about the fact that he seemed to enjoy them.”

“But you said he didn’t respond in kind to them…”

“Yes,” I said. “He also didn’t let on that he was unavailable, that he has a boyfriend.” Continue reading

Dear KD: I’m Caught Between My Fear And My Desire

blackmentalkingSince I moved outside Nigeria, I have been either too busy or uninterested to hook up with anybody. Contrary to what all my friends believe, I am not exactly having the ultimate sexual experience. I am either caught up with school, work or some activity (cue in church).

Recently, a friend suggested I download Grindr, and after much contemplation, I did. The place was just filled with freaks, and just when I was about to uninstall the app while I was at the gym, I got messaged by some good looking brother. We chatted a little and after a while, we exchanged numbers and I progressed to uninstall the Grindr app. Continue reading

HIS KITO STORY (EDITION 14)

200019237-001WRITER’S NOTE: My name is Teflondon. I have been reading Kito Diaries since last year, but never thought to contribute until now. And I must admit, I have been more than impressed by the work done here daily, from the articles posted to the comments and different opinions expressed. Before I start my story, let me follow a few protocols of ass kissing and butt licking. I want to appreciate Pink Panther first of all for bringing all this together, for making such a platform where learned LGBT can interact. I am not by any means an awesome writer, maybe average at best. And I am amazed at the brilliant minds of everyone that writes on this blog. I can’t write fiction because my mind is not as imaginative as the lot who do so. However, the story I have to share is real. Here goes.

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This happened a few years back. And I remember it all, because the turn of events changed my life forever.

I was listening to my James Blunt album on my iPod, seated outside my (father’s) house. There was no light and my dad was not home, as he always isn’t. I was very broke, and so had no money to buy fuel for the generator. I was also bored. And as any spoilt twenty-one-year-old fresh graduate of a prestigious private school would do when he is bored, I put a phone call through to a friend, Tolu. Tolu was my supplier of hunks, and I was looking for him to hook me up. Continue reading

LOVE AND SEX IN THE CITY (Episode 35)

Blog_Love And Sex In The City 02I woke up in a cocoon of contentment and warmth that was made especially more delicious by the chill that snaked its way around the room from the Sunday morning rain falling outside. My eyes glided lazily to the body a few centimetres away from me on the bed, and I felt a catch in my breath when my gaze fell on Bryson. He wasn’t one for cuddles, and so, lay on his back, one arm flung out, and the other placed on a chest that rose and fell with the steady rhythm of his slumberous breathing. His face was slightly tilted in my direction, and his sooty lashes lay like shadows above the fullness of his lips, which begged to be kissed.

Staring at him, I began to feel a stirring in my groin. It surprised me that after spending half the night making love to him, the mere sight of him sleeping could still arouse me.

Following the sensation of desire was a suffusion of warmth in my chest. And as I looked at him, I realized with a sinking feeling that I was beginning to fall in love with Bryson. Continue reading

LOVE AND SEX IN THE CITY (Episode 34)

Blog_Love And Sex In The City 02“Nawa o!” Ekene exclaimed, punctuating his words with a snap of his fingers. “Adebola went too far abeg. What nonsense.”

“It’s ridiculous, really, guys who will go to any great lengths to be bad just for another guy,” Yinka said as he steered his car past the gateway of the Maison Fahrenheit Hotel.

“Straight people do much worse in their relationships,” Ekene rejoined tersely. “Drama due to jealousy is not exclusive to gay relationships.”

“I’m not saying it is,” Yinka said. “And I’m not trying to go the ‘he’s a man like you, you shouldn’t fight over him’ route. I’m simply saying that if it’s me, gay or straight, I would never stress myself over another human being.”

“Yea well, you’ve never been in love,” Ekene said. When Yinka opened his mouth to speak, he quickly added, “And don’t even wave that your ‘I’m in a relationship’ flag. What you and Dayo are doing is a joke, as far as I’m concerned.” Continue reading

MY QUESTION ABOUT CHEATING

g44I’ve never dated a man whose faithfulness I couldn’t vouch for. But, more importantly, it has never bothered me what my boyfriends might get up to behind my back. I asked my first boyfriend, M, to cheat if he wanted to, if sex with me wasn’t great. Actually, it wasn’t at first – poor him! We were age mates but he was about eight years ahead in sexual experience. It was hard enough being a learner; it was worse feeling like I had to play catch-up to his level in the quickest possible time. (Tick-tock!) So, he had my permission to do as he pleased behind me. As long as we kept the relationship going; emotionally, I still needed him, and I know he loved me.

He turned down the bonanza, the idiot. Said he wouldn’t do it unless it was a threesome. I shrugged: his choice, his loss.

Now, years of watching people hurt and feel betrayed over being “cheated on” has left me with more questions than conclusions. These questions are based on an understanding of Love and Sex, and although the two are best together, this is not always the case. In English: two people can love without sex or “too much” of it (as in the case of my parents who I doubt still rip each other’s clothes off every chance they get); and two people can have regular sex without caring about each other (as in No Strings Attached fun).

My dictionary says cheating is when you secretly have sex with someone who’s not your partner. Continue reading

LOVE AND SEX IN THE CITY (Episode 30)

Blog_Love And Sex In The City 02“Kizito!” I gasped, at the same time that my heart did a small leap in my chest.

“Good morning!” he greeted in a bright voice as he came abreast of me standing close to the gateway of the workplace compound.

“Good morning…” I swallowed hard as I sized him up with a hunger I thought didn’t exist anymore. It had been a long while since I saw him, and an enquiry from those I knew who worked with him had revealed to me that he’d been on a leave of absence. I stared at him, feeling a reminiscent rush of pleasure at the sight of him. I’d seen silly words in novels that read ‘her eyes swallowed him whole’, and I’d giggled at them. The words weren’t nearly as funny now that I suddenly found my eyes devouring the man standing before me. If my eyes could inhale, that was what mine would have been doing with him, with his husky build, the warm, dark-champagne colours of his eyes and those full lips that curved, the dark upper lip over the fuller, red lower lips, into a small smile.

“This one you’re staring at me, do I have something on my face?” he said with a chuckle. Continue reading

LOVE AND SEX IN THE CITY (Episode 29)

Blog_Love And Sex In The City 02When I woke up on that Monday morning, a week after the Sunday fiasco at Yinka’s place, I could hear Bryson in the shower. I remained lying in bed without moving, deliciously tired and content. There was a warm, wonderful glow inside me, and I didn’t want to move in case it went away.

I could see from the luminous dial of the clock perched on the nightstand that it was some minutes to 6am. And the glom of the dawn cloaked the inside of the room, not entirely hiding its unfamiliarity from me. In the two weeks since I began officially dating Bryson, last week was when I first visited him at his place, and subsequently began spending the night frequently with him, leaving for work from his bed. It was longer, more tedious commute, from Festac to Yaba, but the prospect of the passion expended on his sheets at night and the contentment that came from waking to his morning musk far outweighed the inconvenience of striving through the hectic traffic of the morning.

“You’re just in the honeymoon phase,” Yinka said when we talked on the phone on Thursday night, the third night I spent at Bryson’s place. “Everything with and about him seems so easy now, so blissful. It gives you the fortitude to simply breeze through everything else. Your parents could disown you now, and you wouldn’t mind. After all, you’ve got another daddy giving you what you truly need.”

I could imagine the impish expression on his face as he said that, and I roared with laughter at the imagination and his words. Continue reading