These are the strangest pervert you’re ever likely going to come across. They are queers. They are strange. They are out of this world.

I once met such a guy in a commercial bus.

Yes, I know that for those of you who have been following me for years, you’ve heard this story a million times.

But hey, give me a break! I just love telling it.

Hold on, you’re jumping ahead of me in the story. Nay, he didn’t try any monkey business in the bus.

Therefore, I said to hold and pay attention.

Who’s telling the story? You or I?

Anyway, he didn’t try anything, but he kept staring at me. Perhaps he found me pretty? Who knows how their dirty minds work and what triggers them off?

I was sure that it couldn’t have been my boobs. I’m not well-endowed in that area. In fact, before my boobs developed to the size of an egg, I was already contemplating visiting a native doctor to reveal why they refused to come out when all my friends were already flaunting theirs. And when they eventually reluctantly staggered out, they stopped short of being negligible.

But I’m okay with them.

I’m not going to annoy Baba God by cramping my boobs with a pad.

When we got to Oshodi, I alighted and quickly forgot about the strange guy.

But he didn’t forget me.

He followed me. I didn’t know until I got to the Bolande Junction, by Brown Street.

If you’ve ever been to Oshodi, you’d know how busy the place is. People buying and selling, and commercial buses cursing and honking. People milling about. Some hurrying to keep appointments, others hurrying to their homes.

I was hurrying to a laboratory to collect a test result for my boss. The strange guy was hurrying to have his manhood grabbed and massaged in a public place. Sicko!

It was a hot day. He stopped me moments after I passed Bolande Junction, into Brown Street.

He said he had been staring at like forever in the bus.  He said I was pretty and that could I please touch and caress his manhood for him.

He was already quite close to me.

I’m a short woman, but I could stare straight into his eyes on stocking feet.

He was wearing a three-piece suit and his trouser had quarreled with the ground and seems unsure whether to cover his legs or stay jumped up.

He had froggy eyes that seemed to dominate most of his features. Eyes some people may call eyeskongba. His shoes were threadbare.

To say I was shocked at his strange request was putting it mildly.

I said no! He begged like his life depended on my massaging his manhood.

He even suggested that we should look for a nearby hotel at Oshodi, so that I could do it for him.

Before you could Jack Robison! The idiot grabbed my hand, attempting to place it on his crotch.

I furiously snatched my hand and glanced down his crotch.

Jeez! The guy was fully erect and even his cheap suit could not hide the fact that he was as hard as Olumo Rock.

I turned tail and fled like the hounds of hell were after me. Crazy man!

Did I remember to tell you, guys that he made promises to me, promise that he would keep if I could just massage his sugar stick?

Maybe his own curse is jerking off in public places.

Yes Oh! We have perverts who derive great sexual pleasure in jerking off in public places.

Do you guys still remember the guy in Ilorin, I told you about?


Once he sees a female, he would bring out his manhood and starts wagging it, until it becomes turgid.

People in my neighbourhood are so used to him that they call him, ‘DokoDoko.”

But I was not used to him.

I had never met or seen him until my fateful encounter with him.

I had never even heard of him. I and my two roommates stayed off campus. My roommates both travelled to Lagos, I was alone at home.

Ilorin is very hot. Most times, we leave our windows open to catch any flitting breeze.

I was sleeping when I heard a noise. It was coming from the window. Scared, I crept closer. I didn’t see anything.

I was about to turn away, thinking it was my overactive imagination, when something out of the darkness whispered, ‘hey!’

I peered closer and saw this guy. His trouser was hanging around his hip. He had thrown his back in apparent enjoyment, and his manhood, already turgid was in his hands and he was playing with it furiously.

I gave a howling scream that almost shattered the foundation of the building. I ran out of the apartment.

My screams attracted my neighbours who dashed out. I explained the strange encounter and they all started laughing.

They said everyone knows him. That he does the same to every female and could even jerk off if you bother to stay and watch him.

They said he was harmless. Are you kidding me? How can a prowling potential rapist be harmless?

There’s another group that only derives orgasm from inflicting pain on their lovers.

I would have loved to tell you about them and others, but I feel I’ve spent too many weeks on these perverts’ discussion.

Let’s discuss something else!


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