Gay Erotic Stories

I was a taxi driver around the city because I had a family of five to feed. My job entailed picking up people of different races and sometimes I picked the good, the bad, and the ugly. Some were kind and some are darn obnoxious.

I picked up a white man named John from the airport to a hotel. En route to the hotel, we struck a conversation and became instant friends. It was his first time coming to Lagos. From the Ikeja Airport to the Sheraton Hotel, he talked glowingly about Nigeria at length. He was surprised that the Nigerians he met in Lagos were not the like those he had heard negative things about. He had been severely forewarned that most Nigerians were lazy, dishonest, fraudulent and criminals. I dispelled those notions as mere hogwash.

“From the airport to meeting you, the people I have so far met are courteous, helpful and very respectful. You can’t get people like that in New York,” John said excitedly.

I smiled. He wasn’t the first person that expressed such a notion. Every city has its bad eggs but then, our African culture demands that we be accepting and welcoming to strangers as our guests. In fact, we’d rather give our guest our last morsel of food and stay hungry. That is our culture. I was wrong to think that our African generosity actually got us in trouble (slavery and colonialism, to mention just two).

“You will give me your phone number. For the short stay in Lagos, before I proceed to Abuja, I will need you to take me around, if that’s ok with you” he asked, smiling widely.

“Very ok, sir,” I replied with a smile, too.

“What’s all this ‘sir’ about? I have told you my name is John. Call me John, please,” he emphasized.

“Yes, John,” I said with a broader smile. The white men and their funny ways. A black man would insist on formalities because he is paying me for my service and so our relationship had to a be master-servant type.

John offered me a drink at the hotel’s bar after we checked him in. I declined at first, explaining to him that I had three more hours of work before closing.

“It so happens I don’t drink alone and you are the first Nigerian friend I have made. Tell me how much you make per hour and I will pay you this instant . But please be a friend, tell me more about your beautiful country,“ he insisted with a twinkle in his eyes.

Such a charming mien, who could resist? I capitulated. The prospect of being paid for now working and sharing a drink with this charming stranger was too tempting to resist. But I demurred a bit. I didn't want to be too eager at the prospect.

“No, I can’t impose on your generosity. You have tipped me more than enough already, sir – I mean John,” I said sheepishly.

“Please, James, drink to my coming to Nigeria,” he joked. ”I cannot drink alone, and I learned that in Africa, you do not reject a drink from a guest, am I not right,” he asked, squinting his eyes-those blue eyes!

I shrugged, "Ok, if you insist," I returned jovially.

He patted me on the back and we proceeded to the half empty Bar. As we entered, I noticed two girls trying to catch his attention with their sly and inviting glances. White guys were always hot cakes here because they always paid their whores in dollars or pounds Sterling. He didn’t even spare them a glance. We went over to the farthest end of the bar where the light was a bit dim. He ordered two shots of vodka and two beers. I was not a heavy drinker so, I declined the vodka and instead drank the beer.

“Tell me about your family,” he said after drinking one shot without grimacing.

I told him how I met my wife and how we got married. He seemed genuinely interested in our marital rites and ceremonies. Seeing that I had picked his keen interest, I regaled him with many of our folklores. After my third bottle of beer, I felt light headed. I didn’t realize that the bar had become jam-packed. We ordered more drinks and many girls looked our way and ogled openly. One even boldly came over and asked for a cigarette while the sway of her body asked for the obvious. We politely told her we were non-smoking buddies. She flirted openly and asked us directly to buy her a drink. We ordered a drink for her and as she settled to sit with us, John looked at his watch and said, “I think, it is about time you left, James. Let me see you off." He then went over to settle our bill. We left the babe there looking surly and glowering like a wounded tigress whose prey had been stolen.

“Let’s go to my room and order for pizza and have a night-cap. I could use another of your African stories before the jet-lag sets in,” he said casually.

At that point, I felt inclined to agree with everything he said. We entered the room and ordered for pizza and a bottle of brandy. This time I was emboldened to have a taste of brandy. "Hello, you only live once," I told myself.

The night wore on and John went into the bathroom and showered. When he came out he had a towel wrapped around his lean waist. He was such a beautiful specimen to behold. I was just staring at him in awe. He was muscular, broad shouldered and quite good-looking. His wet hair made him looked so fetching. I was mesmerized by his looks seeing that that was the first time I had openly admired another man, a white man at that. He oozed a kind of magnetic force with such raw magnetic handsomeness that would surely make any girl eat her heart out at the sight of him with another person. Hello here I was, a happily married heterosexual dude salivating at the sight of a gringo.

He caught me looking at him with obvious admiration; he smiled broadly. He sat opposite me, uncorked the bottle of brandy, and poured it generously in two empty glasses he fetched from the top of a refrigerator. I took the glass he offered with slight shaking fingers. I took a gulp and stifled a cough. Suddenly , there was a knock and he got up to answer it. I stole a glance as he walked toward the door. His rear was as good a sight as his front. Before I knew what was eating Gilbert Grape, I had a huge erection tenting my trousers. I wondered if the alcohol I was drinking was playing pranks on me. I had never had an encounter with a man in that way before. Although I had encountered men in public swimming pools and restrooms, I had never been drawn sexually to a man before.

He returned with a hot cheese pizza, sizzling hot. He settled down and told me to help myself. He took a slice and started munching with so much relish. "This is so good. James go on, help yourself buddy, " he invited as he settled down to his seat.

I followed suit. As he sat, his towel rode up and I thought I saw part of his dark pink hairy balls hanging low. I averted my eyes and concentrated on my cheese pizza.

He started telling me a story about his escapades as a teenager. That man could yarn a story like Jeffery Archer. He chose his words well and expressed such bluntly erotic scenes, I thought my dick would erupt from the painful erection I was sporting.

Before long, we had drunk every bit of that brandy. A music channel on the television set was playing some Nigerian Hip-hop music and he asked me to teach him how to dance the Nigerian way. At this point, I would walk on ice, as my head was already waltzing in the clouds. I wasn't even embarrassed for him to feel my erection. I jumped at the offer.

I had always been a great dancer so I was only eager to oblige. We danced until his towel fell on the carpeted floor. I was so caught up with the rhythm of the music, the dancing, and the effect of the brandy, that I didn't care that he chose to dance in the nude. I laughed and watched him shake his booty and his genitals. He urged me to remove my own clothes and dance in the nude as well. What the hell. I didn't give a hoot. The alcohol had taken its toll on me and, as to be expected, I had lost all my inhibitions. So, what the heck, I undressed and I stood stark naked before him. He stared with wide eyes at my naked body. He stood in front of me, held my hand and we started dancing together like a couple of crazy nudist camp neophytes.

As we danced rhythmically, he stylishly embraced. Our dicks charged and throbbed against each other. He drew me closer, then planted a soft kiss briefly on my lips. He seemed to be testing the waters. I found his soft lips very inviting. When I didn’t resist, he kissed me deeply again. The kiss wasn't revolting at all. It sent electric waves all over me. I shivered with unknown waves. I wrapped my arms around his neck and sensuously kissed him back. As I said, there was no revulsion but a strange feeling of adventure overtook my. Suddenly I welcome a fall from a cliff into a deep, raging waterfall of rampaging bliss and glory of all glories. I became a shadow in a forest of the unknown vista about to discover a secret trove of treasure. It was all so natural and perfect. Without uttering a word, our eyes locked, our fevered body meshed as one, we moved slowly to the bed and sank in.

The lovemaking was long, leisurely, and slow. First we kept kissing like we had just discovered a new language. Then slowly we explored every part of our glistening bodies. He gave openly, I returned in kind. I gave him myself first. He kissed my armpits. Slowly moved to my nipples and did some small biting rituals. His wet tongue moved down to my navel. What he was doing to me made me bite my lower tongue to stifle my moans. He sniffed my black curly pubic hair before opening wide his warm mouth to take my thick black cock in. Greedily, he sucked my dick. He'd take it whole till I felt his throat, then he'd come up to the engorged cockhead and use his tongue to make circular movements. When he felt as though I'd cum, he'd move to my huge balls and suck one after the other. My hands were all over the back of his head, urging him not to stop. I had never been worshipped like that before!

When he turned me on my stomach, I was ready to be had. I opened and he dipped his dick in the ink of my asshole. It was painful at first but John was a master fucker. He took his time to pry my virgin hole with the tip of his hard six incher. Slowly he inches in until he gave me all of his meaty cock. Then he started going in and out with the rhythm of a maestro. I grunted. He grunted. Our bodies made sounds familiar to the walls of the room. Seconds stretches to minutes. Minutes seemed like glorious hours. He picked up pace. When he finally came, he poured every drop of his hot jizz deep in my gut. When we caught our breath, he turned on his stomach and gave me himself.

The things I did to him were payback and more of what he did to me. When I finally uploaded my hot semen deep into him, I shuddered and shattered in million pieces. Immediately I came, raining started tapering on the roof.

When we caught our breath, he asked if I was ok. The way he asked so softly almost choked me with alien emotions that washed over me. I didn't know when I kissed with such pleasure in my body and soul. That night, our bodies sang, swam danced in the lake of passion until we exerted every ounce we could give and take. When we couldn't give anymore, we drifted into a deep sleep. A dream was born.

The next morning, I woke up with a huge hangover. After drinking a cup of hot black coffee, my head cleared. Scenes of the previous night came flashing back. At first I was so shy I couldn't look straight into John's eyes. But he was so nonchalant and moved around with a devil may care attitude. That made me relax and I followed suit. As the day wore on, we went about the day as though nothing had happened. But even though we pretended to put everything under the carpet, we both knew that what we did was just the beginning. A door had been opened and the key thrown away in a beach.

What we shared was not just a one night stand. It was a carefully crafted paragraph written as a prologue to a beautiful script that was prone to have a rosy but memorable epilogue to boot.