Coming out in africa - an autobiography

By paul south

Published on Jan 30, 2005

Gay

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I am trying to find out if there is any worth in my story, that is is it is interesting to anyone at all. So please feel free to get back at me with any criticism at all in regard to contents, language (english is not my mothertongue) or whatever. My email is paul_south4u@yahoo.com Hoping to hear from you all attached is part 1

The middle-age man with grayish hair, sat at the round dining room table across me. We were not having dinner, though rather he was conducting some sort of informal interview to find out if he could employ me in his business. He was an acquaintance of my father since a couple of years. He had tutored his two kids during summer holidays. My father was a primary school teacher then and since I had just completed and graduated from technical college, he wanted to help in finding me a job, as he knew all too well that I wanted to get out on my own as fast as possible. He was and always been one of those straight disciplinarians with a tendency to become violent when something didn't go the way he wanted.

He had spoken to Mr. Longona then, who asked to see me and find out if I was fit for the job.

"Look here, young man...by the way your name is Nico, right?" and without waiting for an answer he kept on

"Well, Nico, you said you just out of school, right?" this time he waited for my reaction:

"Yes, just last month I got my results and I'm out."

"And what you think you can do?"

I grinned and then changed my expression to one a little more sad:

"In school they teach you a lot of theory, but as for practical work I must say I haven't a clue on practically anything."

He chuckled and moved his head in approval:

"Right ten, just what I need!" and he fell silent for a while. I thought he was being sarcastic, but he continued:

"I would like to have somebody to coach on the job, as the guys I got to work before were all too full of savvy and wanted to do things their own ways rather than listening on how I want things done...So if you are ready to take practical instructions from me on the job, it's done...but there is one more thing...and even of paramount importance..." I was beginning to exult within myself but with this 'last one more thing' he left me in suspense for a few long seconds. He then pored it out like he sounded like he was dropping a heavy load:

"My business is in Africa...I don't know if you would want to move there...It's quite different from here you know? The climate for one..." I couldn't believe my ears as I had dreams about going to Africa since a was a little kid when my uncle told me fascinating stories about that wonderful continent, where he had been working sometime before. I cut in abruptly:

"Yessss. I'd love it." I said it with so much enthusiasm that both the man and my father who was sitting on an armchair at a distance, stared at me almost caught by surprise.

"Well ok then, I guess we both shall give it a try...let's say three months...If you find it too harsh you'll let me know and if I see that you don't fit in I'll be honest and frank and will let you know!" That sounded more than fair with me. We shook hands to seal our 'gentlemen agreement' and that was it.

It was when father and I were already at the door, that Mr. Langana disclosed the actual name of the African country where his business was located. My geography knowledge of Africa was far too poor to know wherever the heck that was, east west north south...but it didn't make the slightest difference to me. I was happy, in fact. At that moment I felt I was the happiest guy in the world.

I had just turned nineteen and almost with one foot still in the classroom I already had a job, not an easy thing in the late sixties in my country. I really didn't even care to find out what kind of a job I will be doing and how much would I be paid for. All I wanted was to get out of my father's paws and lead my own life.

Back home, after dinner I retired fast into my room with the encyclopedia volume on Africa. Quickly brushing the pages I eventually found it. There it is! I thought, happy that there were some facts mentioned about the place and even a photo of the capital city taken from up high. Inhabitants so and so, religion so and so, economy etc. The usual facts one would find in an encyclopedia. But turning the pages dedicated to Africa another photo attracted my attention. I was mesmerized by what I saw. It was the picture of some tribal people performing some sort of rite in the middle of a thick bush. They were scantly dressed. Some wore just shorts, some wore underpants, some just a loins cloth. Their dark shin was spread with white chalk and decorated over with lines of bright red, yellow and other colors. They were all men. Some younger guys, about my age and younger I estimated, were kneeling down with what seemed expressions of anxiety and fear on their faces. On the foreground, and that was my main attraction, a couple of elders with their heads adorned by some sort of wreaths made of leafs and wearing dreadful wooden masks, were lifting a boy, wearing caki shorts in mid air, one by the legs the other by the arms. A third was standing half-bent, by the side and with one hand he was pulling at the captive boy's genitals through his shorts. His face was twisted in a painful look.

My attention shifted gradually to the details of the bodies of the young men and boys, beginning with the very one who was subjected to the torment. My gaze paused on the color of their skin, some pitch black, some the shade of light tobacco, some brown chocolate, all smooth as velvet. Two of them were standing sideways showing quite big bulges through their oversized white underpants. Their muscles already well defined were shining with sweat reflecting the sunrays break in through the thick bush.

I contemplated that picture for a long time until I fell into a deep sleep. I can't tell what I dreamed about, but I'm sure it must have had something to do with those captivating bodies in the photo. I was sweating and my dick was as hard as a stone. I did the only thing I had tried so far as sexual gratification at the time: masturbated.

My fantasies about and attraction to male bodies rather than girls' began years before. Not that I thought of myself being gay, not yet, or rather perhaps the thought was already planted in my mind, but at nineteen, with all my mates going out with their dates I too desperately wanted one girl to be mine. I had my very first sexual experience when I was about nine years old. A kid friend and I were playing, on a Sunday afternoon, in one of the unfinished apartment blocks being built by our street, when we got to the last floor where we heard the noise of a floor polishing machine, the only noise at the site since it was Sunday and all the workers were resting for the day. We stopped to look at the work of the young man who was operating the machine and we stood there for fairly a long time watching and comparing the brightness of the part of the floor already polished with that yet to be done with.

The operator stopped the machine and the noise subsided, he looked at us, smiled and said:

"You like it? No? Yeaaah it's nice!" and came closer to us. He smiled all the time and he spoke softly and showed friendliness patting the two of us on the head and stroking our hair. We weren't afraid the least and besides we were used to the workers, most of whom knew us very well because the construction site had become our favored play field.

He started for the bathroom across the hall and motioned us to follow him saying:

"I want to show you something, come" We followed him. He was standing by the wash basin and again he spoke, but this time in a more concerned manner.

"But...you must promise that you will never tell. ANYONE. Not even your own mother. Promise?"

Now you tell a kid you want to disclose a secret to him and he will do anything to learn what it is all about. At least that was how my kid friend and I felt at the time. We swore we would keep our lips tight.

Without saying anything he unzipped the front of his overalls, inserted a hand in the opening and extracted what seemed to us an enormous bird as we used to call a dick, compared to our little ones.

"See, it's big, no?" he said and began to give it a few light strokes with his hand as we were like spellbound looking at it. The skin was smooth and as he was jerking it, the head was getting out of it completely and then it will hide back in. At least I myself was intrigued by that sight because the skin on my own little toy bird could not slide down to uncover the whole head of it. I thought perhaps when I grow up I too will be able to do it, but right now I wasn't daring to ask any question at all.

We were standing at some distance as we were watching that rather exciting show, when the young man, smiling signaled us to get closer. I did, my friend stood his ground.

"Touch it with your hand, don't worry it's ok."

I extended my hand and wrapped my finger on the now completely firm male organ of the young man. My small hand could not close onto it, it could just cup on it, but I could feel the smoothness of the skin and by instinct I began to slowly stroke it as he was doing before, making the head appear and hide again.

"That's right, I like it how you do it you boy" the guy said with a soft voice. After a few minutes of jerking he spoke again:

"You like it? Feels good no? It's real good you know" all the while his voice was soft and friendly.

"You want to try and taste it?" He must have detected some reluctance in me as he kept talking:

"C'mon, you want to tell me you are afraid? Nooo, I'm your friend and will not hurt you...Try and taste it with your mouth it's sweet and if you do I'll show you something you never saw before,"

"What, what?" I asked in excitement and even more curious.

"Milky water will come from it. White as milk."

I couldn't believe it, but I was determined to check what in the world the guy was talking about. I moved my face towards it, got closer with my mouth and with all the courage I could gather I parted my lips and placed them on the guy's dick sideways. I can't remember if I tasted anything at all but I am sure I must have felt confident and somehow good for I kept my lips and my tongue on it till I heard him speak again:

"Yeah, that's it. You see it's not bad, no? You like it no?

Move your mouth now. Move as you moved your hand and soon the white water will come out."

I began to move as he said, swinging my head with my lips firmly fastened on the dick.

"Right, you doing it right, but faster now, faster...You need to do it faster if you want to see the water, the white water."

I went as fast as I could moving my head to and fro, but soon I grew tired. I stopped and moved my head away. He didn't say anything, he just took it back into his own hand, moved onto the bath tub and after a few jerks I saw some thick creamy whitish stuff ejecting from the hole which I knew, normally would let out pee.

I looked back to my friend who was still there, his slips tight and twisted down in a querying sort of way.

The young man had now replaced his big bird into his pants and coming at me said:

"Ok, that's it, you see? Now why don't you show me yours..."

"Aww, no I can't and mine it's too small" was all I could say and started for the door.

"Hey, it's ok, you know now I won't hurt you. I just want to see it please..."

"No, no" I was resolute now and was already out of the doorway with my friend.

He didn't insist, but called after us:

"Don't forget your promise now!"

We didn't answer and we were already down the stairs heading to some other game to play.

At least I know I kept my promise and to this day I can't remember telling anyone what happened that Sunday at the construction site.

With Claude my close buddy since primary one, we just had some body touch once in a while, but that was all. He was real cute, blond hair, blue eyes and graceful body. He was very feminine in his manners and all the other boys kind of avoided him or made fun of him. I was the only one who appreciated his company and I liked him very much even though at times he behaved like a real pest. I loved to pay visits to him at his home in the countryside. Then we would take walks up on the hillside and stop to a secret spot where a creek ran down the valley. We would strip naked and play in the cold water in the hot summer days. I was always delighted to watch that smooth charming body, but that was all. Never we attempted anything sexual as it wasn't really in our mind. What did we know about sex anyway?

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