CONVERSION THERAPY

Today’s update will be Kito Diaries’ hundredth post. And to commemorate it, I wondered: what other write-up is suitable than something penned by Absalom? Here’s another thinker by Absalom. Read and enjoy.

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Foreword

Some gay guys stick to the story of a “conversion” in their lives, muddling it up with their first sexual experience – all to feel better about a sexual orientation that’s hard to deal with. It’s understandable, but this class of “converts” is not my problem this morning.

A bend in the rod

Some of the most interesting stories we’ll ever hear of sexual encounters are those involving a gay guy and a straight guy. It seems the idea behind describing heterosexuality with the term “straight” has something to do with “non-derailment”, “being on course” – unlike the other kind of guys, you know, we the bent ones.

LOVE AND SEX IN THE CITY (Episode 4)

The bar cum restaurant in Yaba where Jonathan had us gathered was already becoming full of life at about 5pm the next evening. It was a public holiday, and so, none of us who had jobs were here after a hectic day at work. So far, we were all present except Adebola.

And Bryson, a little voice whispered inside my head, as my heart picked up a slightly faster beat at the recollection of his name. I craned my neck around to the entrance of the joint, but there was no sight of the two guys that were yet to arrive.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Ekene said beside me, “he’ll be here.”

“Who’ll be here?” interjected Paschal as he leaned in toward Ekene and I from my other side. He looked at my face and continued with a grin, “Oh, you mean, Bryson, Mr. Straight-guy that Madam Slut here says fucked him.”

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.

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It 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.