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The White Man In Town
by Omofineboy
I smiled. He wasn’t the first person that expressed that. 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. “You will give me your 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. “Very ok, sir,” I replied. “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 smile. The white men and their funny ways. A black man would insist on formalities because he is paying me and so our relationship has to be master-servant.
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 an you are the first Nigerian friend I have made. Tell me how much you make per hour and I will pay you, “he insisted. “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 learnt that in Africa, you do not reject a drink from a guest, am I not right?” he asked, squinting his eyes.
I shrugged and capitulated.
He patted me at the back and we proceeded to the half empty Bar. As we entered, I noticed two girls trying to catch his attention. White guys were always hot cake here because they always paid their whores in dollars or pound 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.
We ordered two shots of Vodka and two beers. I was not a heavy drinker so, I refused 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 folklore. After my third bottle of beer, I felt light headed. I didn’t realize that the bar had become jam-packed. We ordered for more drinks and many girls looked our way and ogled openly. One actually came over and asked for a cigarette. We politely told her we were non-smoking buddies. She flirted and asked us 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. Let me see you off,’ he said and went over to settle our bill.
We left the babe there surly and glowering like a wounded tigress. “Let’s go to my room and order for pizza and have a night-cap. I could use another of your African story before the jet-lag sets in,” he said. 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.
The night wore on and John went into the bathroom and showered. When he came out he had a towel wrapped around his waist and he was such a beautiful specimen to behold. I was just staring 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 caught me looking at him and he smiled broadly. He sat opposite me and uncorked the bottle of brandy. Then there was a knock and he got up to open the door. I stole a glance as he walked toward the door. His rear was also a good sight. Suddenly I had a huge erection. I wondered if the drink I took was playing pranks on me. I had never had an encounter with a man in that way before.
He returned with a hot cheese pizza, sizzling hot. He settled down and asked me to help myself. He took a slice and started munching. I followed suit. As he sat, his towel rode up and I thought I saw his balls hanging low. I averted my eyes and concentrated on my pizza. He started telling me a story about his escapades as a teenager.
Before long, we had drunk every bit of that brandy. A music channel on the television set was playing some Nigerian music and he asked me to teach him how to dance. We danced until his tower fell down and he danced 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. The alcohol took a toll on me and I lost all inhibitions. So, what the heck, I undressed and I stood stark naked before him. He stared openly at my naked body. He stood in front of me, held my hand and we started dancing. Then we embraced. Our dicks throbbing against each other. He kissed me briefly on my lips. When I didn’t resist, he kissed me deeply again. I kissed him back and there was no revulsion at all. It was all so natural and perfect. We moved to the bed and sank in. The lovemaking was long, leisurely and slow. I gave him myself first and when he came, he turned on his stomach and gave me himself. We latter drifted into a deep sleep.
The next morning, we woke up with a huge hangover. After drinking hot black coffee, our heads cleared and we went about the day as though nothing happened.
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