Date: Sun, 30 Jan 2005 04:05:08 -0800 (PST)
From: paul south <paul_south4u@yahoo.com>
Subject: coming out in africa - an autobiography

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?