Remember that close friend, another work of his

I was seated in a cozy living room. One that belonged to a partial stranger. His trust for me was obvious from the past five minutes he had spent in the bathroom while I awaited his return. I had left my estate earlier in the day hoping to see some friends and return in time but that did not happen. It was one hour into the estate's curfew period when I got the bus stop on my way back home. I was weighing the options of risking being detained or returning to my friend's place when the black SUV parked right at my front. A tall dark man in his mid thirties alighted the vehicle with a bright, beautiful smile, and embraced me. Those were the two most uncomfortable seconds of the year for me. He was breathing heavily on my neck, his belt buckle was poking my abdomen, and he smelt like honey (I am allergic to honey). He had already mentioned my name, asked about my parents and all my siblings, before I recognized him. I had met Uncle Bayo a few years back at my sister's wedding ceremony, he was the best man. I explained my plight and he quickly offered to take me to his apartment. Half an hour later, and he entered the living room with bottles of soda and vodka.
"Please, drink at will. Daddy is not here". He winked at me. 
But I knew much better, "I'll take Fanta". I tried to sound as innocent as possible, even though I absolutely craved vodka at that moment.
There was an unusually tense silence between us. For the third time that evening, I was feeling very uneasy with him. Thankfully, he broke the silence, offering to take me to my very temporary bedroom. He told me goodnight and left me to bath and sleep. I had had a long and tiring day so I was drifting away in my briefs in a very short while. The last thought that crossed my mind before I finally slept of was why Uncle Charles was still single. I was about to find out why. 
I had barely slept an hour when I awoke suddenly. Something was wrong. I turned around and bumped my forehead in Uncle Bayo's bare chest. He was right there, laying beside me, smiling. But that was not the worst of it, I moved the blanket out of panic and saw the object that would haunt me for the rest of my life. Uncle Bayo's manhood. A grown man was stark naked right beside me. I stood and ran to the door, it was locked. Then I made a terrible mistake, I screamed. He launched at me with his dangling penis and took me by the throat. Then he lifted me, still in that choking vice and thrust me on the bed. I kicked at him, but he was very unaffected by my efforts. So I spat on his face. And in a sickening feat that he considered sexual, he wiped off the saliva and licked it. Uncle Bayo now had me turned over, and just before I experienced what would push me to commit suicide the next week, I had one stunning realization, It wasn't Uncle Bayo's  belt poking my abdomen at the bus stop, it was an erection. And yes, I was a boy.

Don't seems to understand the conclusion part,"yes,am a boy"

Desola1:
Remember that close friend, another work of his

I was seated in a cozy living room. One that belonged to a partial stranger. His trust for me was obvious from the past five minutes he had spent in the bathroom while I awaited his return. I had left my estate earlier in the day hoping to see some friends and return in time but that did not happen. It was one hour into the estate's curfew period when I got the bus stop on my way back home. I was weighing the options of risking being detained or returning to my friend's place when the black SUV parked right at my front. A tall dark man in his mid thirties alighted the vehicle with a bright, beautiful smile, and embraced me. Those were the two most uncomfortable seconds of the year for me. He was breathing heavily on my neck, his belt buckle was poking my abdomen, and he smelt like honey (I am allergic to honey). He had already mentioned my name, asked about my parents and all my siblings, before I recognized him. I had met Uncle Bayo a few years back at my sister's wedding ceremony, he was the best man. I explained my plight and he quickly offered to take me to his apartment. Half an hour later, and he entered the living room with bottles of soda and vodka.
"Please, drink at will. Daddy is not here". He winked at me. 
But I knew much better, "I'll take Fanta". I tried to sound as innocent as possible, even though I absolutely craved vodka at that moment.
There was an unusually tense silence between us. For the third time that evening, I was feeling very uneasy with him. Thankfully, he broke the silence, offering to take me to my very temporary bedroom. He told me goodnight and left me to bath and sleep. I had had a long and tiring day so I was drifting away in my briefs in a very short while. The last thought that crossed my mind before I finally slept of was why Uncle Charles was still single. I was about to find out why. 
I had barely slept an hour when I awoke suddenly. Something was wrong. I turned around and bumped my forehead in Uncle Bayo's bare chest. He was right there, laying beside me, smiling. But that was not the worst of it, I moved the blanket out of panic and saw the object that would haunt me for the rest of my life. Uncle Bayo's manhood. A grown man was stark naked right beside me. I stood and ran to the door, it was locked. Then I made a terrible mistake, I screamed. He launched at me with his dangling penis and took me by the throat. Then he lifted me, still in that choking vice and thrust me on the bed. I kicked at him, but he was very unaffected by my efforts. So I spat on his face. And in a sickening feat that he considered sexual, he wiped off the saliva and licked it. Uncle Bayo now had me turned over, and just before I experienced what would push me to commit suicide the next week, I had one stunning realization, It wasn't Uncle Bayo's  belt poking my abdomen at the bus stop, it was an erection. And yes, I was a boy. 

Just tell us you want a noble prize in literature