31/07/2025
There was this time I was feeling mastingo deadly deadly. Ndume k**a ndume mwenyewe!
I wanted to floor two murimas. In one bed, one night.
So I went out clubbing and hooked up with two babes. Fine things walai. Kidogo Kidogo we exchange digits. Party continues. Aafu after club we chat chat on WhatsApp and I ingiza both of them box... or so I thought.
We agreed on the date, time and place. My place. In Rongai.
Like the ndume I am. I bought a mzinga, some velo, ma foreign, ma purple ka zote na snacks kibao. Add some grilled chicken and a fully charged bluetooth speaker (literally and figuratively).
Then came the D day. 🤪 My sinners did not dissapoint. They both showed up. They weren't even offended that I had plotted to feast on them in a 3sam.
They looked easy, and edible. With swanky hairstyles, svelte waistlines and abundant nyash. They arrived adorned in sleek sexy servings, showing enough skin and enough flesh... wrapped like food for the gods. Smelling nice too.
Suddenly the party began... a few sips of liquor here and there, followed by some quality puffs of mihadarati, loud music and generous b***y shaking all over the apartment. We had fun. Lots of it... until it was time for steamy action. I start to get cozy with the first madam. But she won't let me go past her neck... she twitched her cheek, eyes tight shut and bit her teeth together with a cringe expression on her lips.
I'm like "what's up babe?"
She replied in a feeble Kindiki voice "I'm rolling". 😣 Looking like she wants to cry. So I backed off.
I'm like "Waaaaauuw" then I felt a heavy potato thingy get stuck in my throat, I dont know where from. It's an emotion I'm describing guys, stay with me. I just felt a big kiwaru in my throat.
Moving on swiftly, I console myself. "At least wako wawili" "I can still feast on the one without ketchup" So I composed myself quickly, sipped some vodka and approached the next shawty. She's hot as hell and swinging on the dance floor like Karangu Muraya between his two wives on Facebook.
Saa hizo afrobeat na bangi zimeshikaaa... I dance dance with my two left feet then I lay my hands upon the other madam who was profusely gyrating her round bum bums near my kitchen door.
I sniffed the perfume on her neck, it was a seductive fragrance. I led her to the bedroom amidst some hypnotic blasts of R***r 's 'Red Flags' hit song. The music was great and the mood was perfect. We started nuzzling our noses against each other’s faces while heading for steamy deep kisses. Things get hot quickly and ike a typical romantic movie scene I flickered the bra hooks apart with one hand and started lifting her short dress higher. But surprisingly, she quickly grabbed my wrists and cast them apart urgently.
"Are you okay babe?" I quipped.
"Imagine I'm rolling woyie" that was her reply.
I felt hat big dry potato lump suddenly climbing up my throat again. This time it felt bigger and drier.
Unbelievable! How can both of them be on ketchup? How conveniently? Huh. Who plans a whole 3some and then shows up with red soaked sanitary thingys between their legs? 🤔
I had no way of verifying. But again there was no need to. Once a woman gives you an excuse.. whether flimsy or valid, that's a straight up NO.
I knew I had been denied access. And there's no comeback or rebuttal for that.
I left the bedroom in a huff. Grabbed the mzinga bottle and emptied it down my throat to flush away the mini heartbreak. I felt it wash down the kiwaru inside my throat. I knew liquor could destroy me but at least it will never make a fool of me like these two young women did.
"Alcohol eats your liver, not your fare" I mumbled bitterly. I could live with that.
This was so heartless. I prefer the women who eat your fare and switch off their phones on you and ghost you even for two weeks. Those ones are humane.
But these crocodile hearted daughters of Jezebel showed up at my house, ate my chicken, drank my mzinga and danced off their sweaty buttocks with my hard earned electricity tokens. Only to bump me off with "I'm rolling" 🙄🙄🙄 Si unge kaa kwenu bas!
Sigh.
For the first time it hit me how usherati can be a straight ticket to poverty. And hopelessness. And emptiness. There's a certain wisdom to the stingyness gospel of the red piller gents. It would have saved me a lot.
In fact after that episode, I started noticing how they were not even so pretty. It's my horniness that made them look hot.
Ati "am nyonying" 🙄 Fear women! 25 hours a day!
