If I remember clearly, I was about 13, 14 when you first called me.
I was in JSS 3 and you were in your second year in university.
You had asked my girlfriend and classmate to give you one of her friends and because she told you I had the biggest boobs, I was your choice. Idiot.
Our 10-year age difference made you so appealing to me. You were mature and seemed to have a firm grip of everything in your life. When you didn’t, you would simply roll a blunt and say “man cannot kill himself”.
You were so cool and hot, even though I had no picture of you.
Luckily for me I had a Nokia phone back then so communication was easy.
Text messages and calls were all we had back then and the fad between opposites sexes was flirting and sexting.
You’re probably the reason I enjoy writing and reading literotica today.
I remember how after we passed the introduction stage, you asked that we play a game called imagine where we would conjure “sexy” scenes and let them play out in our heads….
“Right now, my fingers are rubbing on your clitoris and your moans are like wildfire…”
I’ll never forget how I learnt that word.
That was first time I heard it.
You taught me a lot of words – clitoris, fingering, cunninglingus, fellatio ...
I think it was you who taught me the difference between moaning and groaning… or may be I just checked the dictionary to see the difference because you said moaning so often.
How can I forget those times when you made me touch myself?
Those times taught me more about my body than all my biology classes put together.
You grew with me, shaped my mind about sex and men yet I never met you until my first year in the university.
Although you fizzled out for reasons I can’t remember when I was about 15, you still called to check on me often because I was your baby. You told me that and I know you meant it. I’m sure you meant it.
No doubt whatsoever.
I’ll never ever ever forget the first day I met you.
I was ecstatic!
You did well to play up your flaws by continually telling me you were short, dark and had a goatie that everyone had a problem with.
I loved the goatee. I had no problem with your height and your complexion too.
Back to the first day we met… We sat in your battered Altima and talked about how nice it was to see each other for the first time.
That Altima ehn ... Memories.
After talking at length about how the school was treating me and what freedom felt like, I asked if you wanted to see my room.
You said yes.
I had chased out my roommates and I knew the possibilities were endless.
But one thing had to be done.
I had to kiss you.
I’ll never forget.
I’ll never forget how I switched off the lights to kiss you because I was so shy.
It was our first time and it had to be perfect.
Our first kiss was memorable. A lot of lower lip, not much tongue yet it was intense.
It was great!
We were about going further when my shithead roommate walked in.
That’s why you always remembered her name.
We went 2 years kissing, fondling, giving head and getting high but we just never had sex because you’re such a gentleman.
“Arrrrrrgggghhhhh… I can’t do this…. I don’t want to spoil you…”
But you had spoilt me already.
I wanted you so bad.
At that point in my life, I could have given you my whole life and asked for nothing in return.
You were everything.
The glue that kept my soul together.
But you just couldn’t have sex with me… probably because I wasn’t 18 yet so you ran away… ran away for another 2 years.
I had to go through a lot of bullshit because other men were not half the gentleman that you are.
But thank heavens I quickly learnt that men would only take advantage of you if you let them so I used them before they used me.
I remember when we finally had sex…
It was the first time I came during penetration.
It had never happened.
It was so beautiful because we came together….
But then I ran away…
Because I was growing older…
Because I lost my freedom…
Because everything was so serious…
Because I became aware of our religious differences…
Because I knew I could never have you and it killed me inside.
You’ve been extremely distant since the last time we saw last year.
You hardly pick my calls now, yet I noticed you like my Instagram photos.
You don’t follow me, yet you comment.
What kind of torment is that?
I’ve known you now for about 12 years and for all of that time, you’ve been the ideal man to me.
I don’t think I’ve ever said this… but I’m saying it now.
I’ll always love you.