WHO'S WORLD OF FANTASY WILL YOU DIVE INTO NEXT?

You’ve got to understand, I was in a bad place and he was the only one in my corner. He was the only one who ever truly cared about how I felt. I was a wreck, just a student in university – I met him through a friend, and though my friend and I never really talked, my friendship with (let’s call him) Joe took one hell of an upturn.

I could tell from the start that he was something different…someone different from all the guys I’d known and even fucked before. There was nothing really special in the way he looked – I’ve seen bigger, better built men before. He wasn’t skinny, more like lean with defined muscles; I had a feeling that beneath that hoodie he had the day we were introduced, he had some packed abs. Oh, and his English, oh my days! It was clear from the start that he barely spoke any Swahili, and I could have bet that he had grown up abroad! I never really had any intention to drunk-call him that night…and yet I did.

It was a Wednesday, and I had been feeling a little too overwhelmed by life: my parents were stressing me out with their unrealistic demands and their incessant quarreling between them, school sucked, the last dude I’d spoken to had turned out to be utterly fucking selfish, and I was broke as fuck! Somehow or other, I managed to get my hands on a mzinga and after a measly meal of ugali mayai, which I never got to finish anyway, I started my shots at about 9:30pm, or thereabouts.

So much was going through my mind, and I also knew that drinking would bring me over the edge and I would feel everything all at once. Well, the shots kept coming, and I wasn’t too keen on chasing them because at some point, I started considering the possibility of actually dying. I mean, what was there to live for, right? My parents hated me, I had no real friends to speak of…and I still remember the day that man came into my room and took me by force. Oh, how I hated myself after that, and the worst thing was that there was no one I could tell. I mean, they never would have believed me, would they? Knowing my parents, they would have called me out on my lie and called a pastor to exorcise the evil spirits from me.

At about midnight, the thought of opening the door, walking to the edge of the balcony, climbing over the railing and throwing myself 4 floors down was looking like the best idea I ever had. I had so much I wanted to let off my chest, but who would have been there to listen to me? I was busy considering this and how much better off everyone else would be if I jumped when I remembered Joe.
Oh my, Joe! Those last couple of weeks had actually been the best! I hadn’t seen him since the day we were introduced to each other, though we got to exchange contacts (or had I asked my friend for them after Joe left?) and started texting. Oh, his texts were fulfilling! Finally here was a man who could type in full sentences, and who seemed to have the time for my craziness. Wait, he did walk me to the stage that first day we met, right? We were the three of us, that’s for sure, but my friend left us and he walked me to the stage to get my matatu while he climbed the bus heading to town.

Would Joe be awake? I remember he told me that he had the habit of sleeping early, so the chances of finding him awake past 11pm were slim. Even then, he seemed to be the only person I could contact. Not only that, he was the only person I wanted to call and speak to…the only person who could stop me from jumping off the balcony. Would he pick up his phone? Gosh, how I needed him to!

My phone was lying by my side on the bed. I had just come from watching Tiktok videos before the thoughts and voices in my mind got a little too loud for my liking. I managed to pick it up, though my fingers weren’t cooperating with the signals being sent from my brain and heart. I unlocked the phone and somehow – possibly through muscle memory – managed to find his WhatsApp inbox. I called him, and it rang, though he must have been offline because the ring kept on going off in the background with no answer. Besides, it was close to 1:30pm anyway, so there was no chance he’d pick up.

Damn it! Damn you, Joe! How could you be asleep when all I wanted to do was speak to you? Damn you and your early sleeping schedule!
I put the phone down defeated and poured myself another shot. Oh, the thoughts in my head were killing me, and the urge to scream, cry and shout was overwhelming.

I have no idea where the time went, or perhaps I must have blacked out because the next time I was trying to call Joe via WhatsApp, it was a little after 3:00am. Still no answer! Damn it!

But wait, I could call him using my Safaricom line, right? I still had some credit left…at least enough to flash him and hope that he’d wake up. Again, muscle memory is what guided me to the contacts, I found his name and pressed call. I wasn’t sure he’d pick up, and actually the first time, there was no response. I’m glad I decided to try again immediately because he picked up on the 3rd beep, and it was all I could do to not cry!

His voice was deep with sleep, and I could tell that he hadn’t been expecting my call. Even then, when he heard my voice break before I even said anything, his voice suddenly changed to that of concern, then the call was disconnected. Damn, I never had enough airtime!

5 seconds later, he was calling me back, and I picked, and I couldn’t speak. I just cried. I wanted him to know how much he meant to me in that moment, and how much I wanted him near me pronto!

For the purposes of this story, I will go by the incognito name of Luna.

“Luna!” He cried, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Where are you? Are you safe?”

“I’m drunk!” I managed to blurt out between sobs. “I’m drunk and I want to jump off the balcony!”

“No, no! Don’t you fucking dare! Luna, listen to me, listen to my voice, don’t you dare!”

“Joe, I really hate myself, and all I want to do is end it all. I am hurting so –” I couldn’t continue because all of a sudden, I started throwing up. Oh boy, it felt so good to get it out of my system.

“Luna! Talk to me, what’s happening?”

In between burfs, I managed to say, “I’m throwing up,” and I heaved again.

“I’m coming. Where are you? Send me a pin on WhatsApp and I’m coming,” he said.

Now, keep in mind that he lived 2 bus trips away from me, so I thought he was joking. Even then, I took him at his word and once I was off the call, I sent him the pin knowing very well that he wouldn’t show up. Besides, it was getting to 4:00am. Surely, he wouldn’t show up…would he?

About an hour and a half later, my phone went crazy. Someone was calling me. I must have been asleep because when I got up to check, there had been 9 missed calls, and just then, the phone rang again for the tenth time. Gosh, who would be calling me at this time and so obsessively? Oh wait, the name on the screen looks hella familiar. It’s Joe! Don’t tell me he actually showed up! Gosh!

“Hello?” I picked up his call.

“Thank goodness! I thought you wouldn’t pick up and that I had come all this way for nothing. I even feared…no, never mind. I’m at the gate, though I’m not sure if it’s the right one, would you mind coming down to get me?”

Bless his fucking soul, Joe was here! How in the fuck?

I crawled out of bed, careful not to step over my puddle of sick, and somehow managed to climb down four floors, got to the gate, got the gate keeper to open it and there he was! In the flesh!

I beckoned him in, and we started the four flights of stairs. I couldn’t trust myself to hug him there and then because we might never have made it up the flights of stairs. He was walking behind me, close enough to hold me in case I toppled backwards. I wasn’t the most steady of walkers at that point in time. Somewhere between the third and fourth floor, I actually stopped climbing and leaned back into him because apart from the fact that I was winded from the steps, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

He held me from the back and told me to keep climbing because if we fell down the stairs, it would have been all for nought. I somehow found the energy to get up the remaining steps, get to my door, unlock it, get in, usher him in, and lock the padlock. I wasn’t even in the mind to be ashamed of how my place looked because I was just amazed that he had shown up. Like how even? Fuck, I wanted him!

But first, I had to catch my breath, and that short excursion had made me feel super hot in my one piece, so I unzipped it and leaned against the wall to catch my breath.

After about half a minute, I turned round to look at him. He was looking at me with concern in his eyes, then his eyes drifted down to my exposed chest with my tits hanging out of my one piece. His eyes quickly found mine, and in that instant, I knew that I was safe with him. Fuck, how I wanted him! How in the world was he here? Did he actually care for me that much? Oh my! I didn’t want to know, I threw myself into his waiting hug.

It definitely was what I needed. He hugged me tight, and I hugged him tighter. Before I could stop myself, I asked him, “Joe, how are you here?”

“Luna,” he said, “there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here with you. You needed me, and I am here, and I ain’t going nowhere.”

Damn, that’s what I wanted to hear, and I muzzled against his neck. Seeing how close we were to each other, I felt his dick beginning to stiffen against me. Damn, I would give this man all that and more tonight just for the fact that he actually showed up!

I broke off the hug, then noticed the pile of vomit on the floor and apologised for the mess. Joe said that it was fine, that he didn’t mind, and that he was glad I hadn’t gone through with the plan to throw myself off the balcony.

I got into bed while he removed his shoes, then got in beside me and he lay there with me. I still couldn’t believe that he had shown up, and that (plus the more than halfway mzinga I had drunk) got me opening up my heart to him and telling him all that was in my mind, including the story of how I had been raped.
Joe, sweet Joe, listened to all this with apt attention and never once did I feel judged or whatever. In that moment, I felt really safe with him, possibly safer than I had felt with any other dude before. I wanted him. I think the other thing that was driving up my desire is that he seemed pretty green in sex. Most guys I had been with had been very dominant and they knew it. With him, though, it seemed I’d be the one to make the first move.

And so I tilted his face towards mine and kissed him. Ah, fuck, that felt good. He wasn’t all over my mouth. In fact, he seemed to be following my lead, so I opened my mouth a little more and teased him with my tongue. Damn, the moan that came from his lips and the vibration it caused just really turned me on. Fuck, I wanted him.

He gave me access to his tongue in turn, and I wrapped my right leg over his and deepened the kiss. Well, I guess he wasn’t as green as I thought because he bit my lower lip, and I felt the pang of desire flood through me. I wanted more, but I was also afraid of pushing too much in case I scared him off and he had come all this way just to see me.

His hands found my tits and he cupped them. His touch was light, almost as if he was afraid he’d hurt me…then he squeezed them. Fuck, why was he still wearing his hoodie? I wanted his skin. So I broke off the kiss and asked him to take it off. He did, and boy, the abs! This was a guy who was taking great care of himself and also possibly was an athlete at some point in his life.

He came back in for the kiss and his hands were on my tits again, and his tender touch awakened the need in me and the heat between my thighs intensified. I wanted him yet he wasn’t seeming to make any moves towards submitting his entire self to him. Wait, was he a virgin? Was I his first?

Oh, how he kissed me, and how he handled my tits almost as if he knew that massaging them would make me whimper and want him more. At this point, I was convinced that if I wasn’t his first, I must have been at least his second. He was in no rush, and I figured that he also wanted to make me feel safe. After all, I had just told him about my experience at the hands of a man I trusted. But how I wished he’d let go and give me all of him.

To try and get him turned on more, I skimmed my hand over his trousers just where his dick was beginning to harden, and oh, that movement of his entire body, he must have been holding back yet really wanted to have me. I would give him all of me if only he took the chance!

Thinking about it in hindsight, I’m actually relieved that he never agreed to fuck me that night. In fact, he never took off his pants, and though I was hella disappointed, in hindsight I’m glad he made that decision because my love for him deepened whereas I know I would have woken up the following morning and chased him from my house.

I won’t lie to you – we barely did anything apart from making out and him trying to give me head. Yes, he tried. He must have been a virgin because even his skill in that area was wanting. The bummer is that I had so much desire for him, but since I wasn’t satisfied, well, all I could do was leave the bed to go pee, then came back, got into his arms and fell asleep.

He stayed with me for most of the next day, helped me clean up before we left the house, and that was that.

About three years, later, though I did get to eventually fuck him, and it was clear that he’d managed to get some experience in by then. However, that is a story for another day. I hope you enjoyed it!