“Will you kiss me?” I say huskily to her.
She nods and begins to bring her head close to me. I move forward, the metal joints of the bed creaking in slight protest at the hastiness of my motion.
She tips her chin, purses her lips and her eyes flutters shut.
For a moment, I watch with a rapidly escalating heartbeat as the ruby-red petals of her lips approach. Then I close my eyes, arch my head forward and I kiss her.
The kiss instantly becomes explicit, sexually charged, yet not overpowering. I take her mouth in gradual degrees, raising my hands to her shoulders, my palms massaging the back of her neck as my lips open hers and my tongue slides inside, lightly caressing. I intentionally hold back, determined to take only as much as she is willing to give.
She moves closer to me and grips my upper arms, tilting back her head to give me better access. I take the cue, pulling her against me, nudging her arms up and around my neck, then slanting my mouth across hers and kissing her senseless. She moans against my mouth. I moan in response. The kiss becomes a wildly erotic awakening, hot and slow and shivering with promise.
Maybe too much promise for me to handle.
Her hand slips down from my neck and her palm comes to rest on my crotch, the touch drawing my attention to the throbbing strength of my erection behind my shorts. She pulls the erection slightly into her grasp through the fabric. I groan and move my hips, pushing my groin into her hand. She cups her hand over the erection and begins to move her fingers in a slow caress.
I pull my mouth from hers just then to let out a gasp as a sudden pressure percolates on my groin.
The next occurrences take place in a rapid-fire sequence.
I stiffen as the contraction builds, and my body begins to tremble as my penis spasms and pushes forth something akin to the most pleasurable piss I’ve taken. It comes in spurts, and the moistness spreads rapidly over the material of my shorts, under her touch. She feels the dampness and jerks her hand away, recoiling from me as well.
The release also startles me, and I’m permitted a quick impression of the distaste on her face and the cool, damp feel of the front of my shorts, before I –
I jerked awake. I blinked rapidly as I sat up on my bed, feeling slightly disoriented from a dream that was rapidly slipping away from me. I turned a wild-eyed gaze about the dormitory, as I felt my heart triphammering against my rib cage.
A great number of the dormitory was already awake, mostly junior boys hustling to get their morning chores done before the ring of the breakfast bell. It was still early, and through the window beside my bunk, I could see the watery daylight pushing back at the darkened edges of dawn, reclaiming the colours of the day that had been washed into grey by the moonlit night.
I moved, and froze when my crotch brushed against a patch on the front of my boxer shorts – a cool, damp patch.
Oh my God! It can’t be! I can’t have wet the bed!
With mounting horror, I looked down at my boxers, while simultaneously patting the bed around me. My sheets were dry, and when I felt the moistness on my shorts, my fingers encountered a slimy sensation, very unlike the feel of liquid. I leaned forward and sniffed the sir close to my groin. There was none of the pungent smell of urine.
Feeling curious, I pulled back the waistband of my boxers to peer at the inside. Smeared all over the back of the fly was a patchwork of thick, whitish fluid. I made a face, and then choked back a breath as recollections of the dream I’d just woken from crashed down on my mind. My eyes widened as I began to remember everything: Anulika, the kiss – oh my God, the kiss – the passion of it, her touch, the pleasure from it, and…and…
“Nyama! Eze, what is that?”
I jumped and my head whirled around to encounter Ibuka’s quizzical stare on my boxers.
I released my fingers from the waistband, causing the boxers to snap shut around my hips. What he’d been looking at promptly disappeared from sight.
But he appeared to have seen enough. His mouth was forming a small O of comprehension, and he was pointing at my crotch. “Wait a minute, was that…is that –”
“Is that what?” My bunk swayed slightly as Joseph moved about on his bed above. He peered down to see Ibuka pointing at my boxers like some damning evidence of a crime. “Whoa! Did Eze pee on the bed?”
“No!” My response came swiftly, and I shot a fulminating glare up at him before looking around to be sure no one had heard what he’d said. “Stop talking nonsense, Joseph!” I hissed.
“Then what is Ibu pointing at as if he has seen bush baby inside your boxers?”
“It’s not urine, Joe,” Ibuka gasped. “It’s sperm. Eze has sperm on his boxers.”
“What!” Joseph and I said in unison.
“It cannot be!” Joseph proceeded to leap down from his bed.
“It can’t be sperm,” I concurred, and then hedged. “Wait, can it? Oh wow, Ibu, are you sure it’s sperm?”
“Why are you asking him? What does he know about sperm?” Joseph cut in tersely.
“Hey, I know more about biology and this subject than you’ll ever know by the time you finish first term,” Ibuka retorted with the imperiousness of one who had read the entire syllabus of the school term.
“I still want to see with my eyes,” Joseph said, and then gestured at me. “Eze, oya, open let’s investigate.”
I recoiled. “No.”
“Ah-ahn, let us see nah –”
“No. My private part is down there.”
Joseph guffawed. “The private part you will soon expose for everyone to see when we go out to take our bath, eh? Ogbeni, open something let us see.”
I looked at Ibuka, hoping he’d ship up an excellent rhetoric as to why I should n0ot reveal my sperm to the world. He simply shrugged, evidently curious to have a closer look as well.
I sighed and pulled open my boxers again.
The two boys hunched forward.
“I said it!” Ibuka squealed. “It’s exactly the way the textbook said it’ll look like – whitish and viscous, sort of like McCleans toothpaste.”
“Joe?” I looked at the other boy for his verdict.
“Yea, it is sperm.”
“How do you know?”
“I once saw the condom my elder brother used where he dropped it in his room, before escorting his girlfriend out of the house. What I saw inside looks like this.”
“Nyama!” Ibuka burst out with revulsion stamped on his face. “You saw, picked up and opened your brother’s used condom? What were you looking for inside, your future generation or his?”
I struggled with my laugh as Joseph glowered at him. “For your information, that just means that I’ve seen the real thing, and all you know is what you read from the textbook.”
“Not anymore,” Ibuka declared, before pointing at my crotch. “I just saw a life diagram here.”
“Come on, Ibu! I’m not your biology specimen.”
Ibuka giggled. “No, you’re not. What you are, though, is a man now. For you to have had a wet dream–”
“A what?” I interrupted.
“A wet dream.”
“What is that?” Joseph asked.
Ibuka heaved his classic what-do-you-even-know sigh of exasperation. “It’s a dream you have where something sexual happens, which then makes you pour out sperm in real life.”
“So you’re trying to say that Eze now has a spiritual wife, eh?”
“Shettup joor!” I said, feeling a flutter in my heart as an image of Anulika pressed up against me flashed through my mind. “So wait, am I the only one who has had a wet dream in the three of us?”
“It would seem so,” Ibuka replied.
“So I’m the only one who has released sperm amongst us?” A grin of accomplishment was starting to inch its way across my lips.
“Well,” Joseph said, “you came back this school year the shortest of the three of us. So I guess God decided to give you this one.”
Ibuka and I laughed heartily at that.
“You can say whatever you want to say o, Joe,” I said cheerfully, “but I am a man now. Ha! I am a man.”
“Say it a little louder. I don’t think those in Dorm 8 heard you.”
“I am a man!” I hollered.
“And you’re disturbing me with that unnecessary information because?” came a drawl from the bunk a few yards away from us.
I gave a start, and the three of us turned in the direction of the voice. The sleepy eyes of Chisom Ojukwu peered at us from the depths of his bed. He was one of the SS3 residents of the dormitory.
“Sorry, senior…sorry to disturb you…” I stuttered. “It’s nothing –”
“No, no, it’s something,” the senior boy said as he made to sit up in his bed. His wrapper fell away from his front to reveal a chest generously shadowed by a hirsute formation stretching from just below his collar bones down past his belly button. The boy had so much chest hair, his mates had taken to calling him ‘Grizzly Bear’, an ironic nickname seeing as he had fair-complected skin and a skinny figure.
But his chest hair was legendary, for it would seem it contributed to his prowess as the ladies’ man of his set. Rumour had it that all he had to do was unbutton the top of his school shirt to reveal a smattering of hair, and he would have whatever girl he was chyking at the time eating out of his hand.
“Clearly, it’s something,” he continued in his lazy drawl. “I want to know why you felt the need to announce that you’re a man. Come on, tell me.” His tone was mellow, almost jocular.
But all these SS3s can be potential candidates for bipolar disorder. One moment, one will be talking to you like you’re best friends. And the next moment, you speak out of turn and he turns into your nightmare.
I cleared my throat, before saying, “Well, senior, it’s just that…the thing is…well, all it’s about is that –”
“He had a wet dream and released sperm,” Ibuka answered.
“Wow.” Chisom mimed an applause as he stared at me. “Mister Eze, you are indeed a man. Be careful there with your set girls. You are now capable of impregnating any one you do any-anyhow with.” And he dropped his right eye into a suggestive wink, before settling back into his bed. “Now, please shut up, the three of you, and don’t disturb my sleep again.”
“You know what I think?” Ibuka asked.
“No, but I’m sure you’ll tell us anyway,” I replied.
We were amongst the throng of students returning to the hostels in the wake of the end of the evening meal. The sky was twilit by a splash of receding auburn and deepening grey, and shadows had begun to lengthen around us.
“I think that God introduced all these signs of puberty to warn teenagers to be careful,” Ibuka said. “You know, like menarche in girls and semenarche for boys –”
“Menarche…semenarche – what do those even mean?” Joseph queried, lifting uncomprehending brows at Ibuka.
“Menarche means the beginning of menstruation for females, and semenarche means…well –”
“Me pouring sperm?” I supplied with a grin.
“And he’s back to making mouth,” Joseph said with a hiss. “All day! E no dey taya you sef? This kain achievement you’ve achieved, we won’t hear word for you again.”
I laughed. “Why won’t I make mouth? When you first three of us to grow bear-bear, did you let us rest? And don’t even get me started with you” – I swiveled to Ibuka – “when you saw one small gray hair on your head. You practically appointed yourself our grandfather.”
“Is it my fault God blessed me with more wisdom than you two?” Ibuka sallied.
“What good is your wisdom when you’re not a man to prove it?” I shot back.
“Tah gbafuo!” Ibuka admonished with a laugh. “Look at this udubere nnunu.”
“Speaking of this sperm you’re now releasing –” Joseph began.
“Actually, it’s semen, not sperm,” Ibuka corrected.
“Speaking of this sperm,” Joseph reiterated defiantly, “that you’re now releasing, Eze, shey you heard what Chisom said. You can now impregnate Anulika if you don’t take time.”
Ibuka started chuckling.
“What are you laughing at?”
“You that haven’t even kissed Anulika properly… is it the fear of impregnation that we are now looking at?”
Joseph doubled over at the gibe.
I scowled. “I have kissed Anulika, you idiot.”
“He said proper kissing, Eze,” Joseph said in between bursts of mirth, “not the chewing gum touch of the mouth you two did last term.”
“I have kissed Anulika properly joor,” I huffed, stomping ahead of them unto the threshold of our dormitory.
“Where, in your dream?” Joseph snarked from behind.
“Yes. In my dream.”
“Oh my God, was she the one in the wet dream you had?” Ibuka asked.
We had unlocked our wardrobes, and were putting our dinner things away.
“How was it?” Ibuka asked.
“It was great. And I was a very good kisser. Kai! Come and see the way I was giving it to her ehn…” My eyes shone at the recollection of my dream.
“So Dream Eze has more swagger than Real Life Eze, huh? Interesting,” Joseph said with a pedantic nod of his head.
“Die there, Joseph!” I declared, spreading my fingers at him, palm open. “Waka!”
Our caper soon cooled as we focused on getting ready for the night prep. The peal of the school bell signifying the period was resonating in the night. Ibuka was the only one who picked out a book from his school bag for the prep – three books actually – before we joined the small number of dorm-mates exiting the room.
“Eze!” someone called from a far end of the pavement as we started across the quadrangle.
We stopped and turned. The hostel lights illuminated its environment, and we could easily make out the lithe figure of Chisom Ojukwu as he strolled leisurely down the pavement.
“Yes, senior,” I called back.
“Where are you boys going?”
“Night prep,” we chorused.
“Oh,” he said, as though he’d only just understood the definition of night prep. He probably hadn’t been for the night prep since his SS1 class. “Well, Joseph, you and Ibuka can go on for your prep. Eze, you stay behind.”
Dread spasmed through me. I don’t need SS3 boy problem right now o! “Erm, senior, but I’m the class captain of my class.”
Assistant class captain actually, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Who is in the same class with you?”
Joseph and I answered at the same time.
“Very well, Joseph, if Lawrence comes and asks about the absence of your class captain, tell him I borrowed him from the prep.”
Lawrence Ibeneme was the school’s prep prefect.
Joseph nodded. “Yes, senior.”
Chisom waved a dismissive hand, and my friends melted away from my side. The senior boy flicked his fingers at me in a come-here gesture, and I moved with some reluctance toward him.
He was smiling, an impressive contortion of his handsome features. That had to be a good sign. When he slung a hand across my shoulder, drawing me close to him, I knew he wasn’t on a mean streak to give me a hellish night.
But what then does he want from me?
“Ma mehn, ma mehn! Aren’t you going to ask what I want with you?” Chisom said, echoing my thought.
I looked up at him from the crook of his arm. “I was waiting for you to tell me, senior.”
His smile widened. “Shey this morning, you were talking about how you are now a man.”
“Yes – I mean, no – I mean, what I meant was that –”
“Yes or no, are you not a man?”
My heart began to tap a faster tattoo. “Uh, yes, I am,” I said tentatively.
“Good!” Chisom retrieved his arm from my shoulder and brought his hands together in a clap. He was still smiling. “Now, it’s time to initiate you properly.”
“Initiate me… Senior, what do you mean?” There was something unsettling about the boy’s exuberance.
“You’ll see.” His expression became enigmatic. “Just go back into our dorm and wait. You hear me? Wait there. I’ll come for you later.”
I nodded mutely. He bounded off the pavement, across the courtyard, and toward the gate. I watched as he got swallowed by the darkness beyond the gate, before walking with a sense of foreboding to my dormitory.
TO BE CONTINUED.
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