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...purely heavenly. She teasingly rubbed her titties on my face and I couldn't resist the urge to cunningly open one eye and peep. Behold ladies and gentlemen she had those, "Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle" King Solomon was talking about in Songs of Solomon 7:3.
Girl was pro in this thing. She touched all the right spots on that head. She unbuttoned my shirt up to the navel. She applied olive oil in her hands and worked on my back and thorax. She put a lot of emphasis on the shoulders and later migrated to the nipples. She held them between her fingers and rubbed them with a seven-star rated expertise. I will not lie to you but at this point the lion was already roaring and threatening to break out of the zipper. See how we've naively interfered with cherished Nairobi National park?
This was a public premises and there was no way I could let people see me walk out with a bulge on my pants. The lady noticed how overwhelmed I was and she provocatively rubbed the titties across my face and my lips gained contact with them soft titties. Things were now getting out of hand. I started imagining bad things so that the lion stops roaring and retreat.
I imagined how could a man salvage such a mountainous ugali amid other valuables? I imagined Croatia climbing on my Sportpesa bets in the just ended Fifa worldcup. I remembered the Landlord, Mama Mboga and some 3 weeks debt I owe her, a certain mboch who is spreading rumors that she is carrying my baby. I literally imagined all bad things but the lion was not responding to the commands.
The lady went ahead and took the TOOL you see below. She squeezed into my head and I felt like ants had been poured all over my body.
Is this what political detention felt like? Basi weka "gitole moja juu". If so, I won't have even dared baba wa Taifa. I wanted to shout and tell her to stop. I tried to lift my hand and signal her to stop but all my energy was under detention. All energy accounts frozen. My entire system was literally under receivership. All my energy was channeled to the b'lls to guard them not to bu'st. Men cannot multitask. There was no way I would let myself bu'st in public. The lady moved the devil's tool in and out of my head severally and it reached a point where I could not take it anymore. I decided to give in and shout "STOOOOOOOOOOOP".
It was at that very point that i felt my toes freeze, my eyes almost popped out of their sockets and I momentarily became epileptic. My nuts bu'st a good one. The area around the zipper was soon covered by a big, wet, oily patch. I regained composer, fished out a random note out of my pocket, handed it to the barber and dashed out. I had to run away before a crowd gather to see the niccuh who had just poured in public. I just realized that I handed over a Kshs. 500/= note and there is no way I'm going back there to ask for change.
Hizo zimekunywa maji hivo tu. But anyway, we live to hustle another day.
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