Anyway, it pleased me to know I had only Mr. Cindero to contend with, knowing it was easy for me to strangle him should he attempt making a move on me. He looked that fragile to me.
While we talked, Mr. Cindero rested his head on my lap all of a sudden. My suspicion was being confirmed. But, I remained calm, aware not to overreact. I tried to convince myself he was only being free with me, even if I felt awkward having his head so close to my groin. While I was considering what to do about his head on my lap, in a swift motion, he put his head through my shirt and held my bulging nipple with his lips. I pushed him so hard he rolled off the bed.
He was fast on his feet. Honestly, if I was to act on the premise of how disgusted I felt by what he did, I would have probably left him for dead with my fist. But, I knew his friends were outside and would rush in for his rescue if I acted rash. So I blurted, “What’s the problem with you?”
The next thing I saw, Mr. Cindero took off his shirt, pulled his trouser and boxers. And what he had on his waist would have been sexually arousing to a lady, but not to straight man like me. The sight of his erect penis wrapped in a massive thread of veins repulsed me. He began to plead that he liked me and that I looked sexy. He said he had wealthy friends who would pay a fortune to have me as a gay partner and was willing to introduce me to them. The more he spoke, the angrier I felt. But I reminded myself I was in a strange zone, and so had to be diplomatic.
Mr. Cindero started to approach me with the stiff stick between his legs. He jumped at my trouser and struggled to bring it down. This time, I became befuddled with rage. With every ounce of strength I had as a typical Igbo man, I lifted Mr. Cindero and flung him across the room like a dirty rag. He landed on the ground, hard, on his hardened penis. I thought he wouldn’t wake from the fall. If a penis was stick, his would have broken.
I rushed over to him, my mind in a puddle of thoughts, while I prayed silently but fervently, that the fall hadnt been fatal. As I got close enough, I noticed his eyes were open. He was obviously in pain, as his faced contorted like one holding back a scream. Bloody faggot, I muttered as I stood over him. “Next time, you wont be this lucky.” Then I turned around and left the room.
I went to the window and peeped through. His friends were nowhere in sight. So, I opened the door and walked out. When I got to the gate, it was locked. The gateman was nowhere in sight. I had to get out before he showed up. I fumbled with the gate, but it was locked for good. There was only one way out and that was the fence. There was no time to think as I had only two options: climb or get caught. I took the former.
I began climbing. When I was at the top of the fence, I heard, Kai! Come down! The gate man had emerged from the back of the house. Like a well skilled martial artist, I jumped down from the fence and landed on the other side with my heart pounding. Then I saw the other three men, Cindero’s friends. They were in the car, gisting and probably wishing to be in their friend’s position (chilling with a sexy gay lover inside). Once in the clear, I took to my heels without looking back. Usian Bolt got nothing on me; I had to save my dear ass.
Akuns Chima Kingsely is a graduate from the prestigious Ebonyi State University. He is an avid reader and a book addict. To him, reading is almost like a way of life. During his free time, if he isn’t reading or writing, he plays around with computer codes. You can reach him on Facebook via Akuns Chima Kingsely.