PORTFOLIO
SEARCH
SHOP
Your address will show here +12 34 56 78
On a recent episode of Scandal, resident heroine, Olivia Pope, went toe to toe with her Father who happens to be a feared spy master. Her Father, with all his vast resources and the support of the United States Government behind him, could not match his daughter. She stood up to him and told him, “I have weapons at my disposal you couldn’t possibly imagine” The weapon in question is the tempestuous affair she has with the President. With one phone call to her Democrat lover, Olivia managed to convince him to make a decision, that put the President in direct conflict with her Father. The fate of the nation, was decided by a woman’s promise, of possible sex. Sounds stupid? Probably, but not if you’re a man! I don’t mean to portray men as helpless, sexually wanton idiots, but we kind of are. If a man knows there’s a possibility that he is going to open the thighs of his object of desire, see that lovely rose gleaming at the petals with wetness. That he is going to dip his dick in this elixir of pleasure and abandon, while looking at her face to see the ecstasy glazed on her eyes. The moment he knows that, mountains become molehills in his quest to accomplish that. History is littered with instances where passion played this part. History might as well have been written on the lips and folds of pussy! Adam and Eve, we all know how that went. The war of Troy, was fought over the beautiful Helen of Troy, the face (more like ass) that launched a thousand ships. Samson and Delilah, the girl started the first Kinyozi, but for very murderous reasons. David and Bethsheba, Solomon and his 900 concubines, the list is endless. Pussy is God’s longest running practical joke on mankind. We are told he created us in his image. If we are created in the image of the most powerful being in the Universe, it makes sense that he would’ve created a fail-safe, a kill-switch so that we, marauding monkeys that we are, wouldn’t destroy his creation. He did create one, pussy. If we are in possession of such an astounding weapon, what have we done with it, that can be left as a legacy to future generations? Well, let’s ask the holders of the weapon. Let’s see now, countless abortions, fucking dogs for porn, participating in 100 men one pussy orgies (yes, that happened), exchanging pussy for Guarana or cab fare from the club, going to raves and becoming pregnant without knowing who the father is. The more evolved ones, use birth control at least, but only when it suits them. If it’s more profitable to get pregnant, they will. To fleece a man of material wealth, or imprison a married man. The most powerful instrument on earth, and they use it so that they don’t have to pay fare in the Umoinner. The reason, sex is so powerful, is because women are born nurturers. They were given the ability to create something out of nothing, nurture it to full maturity, then go on and do it all over again. The reason this world is in such a muddle, is because we relegated the woman to the kitchen. When men took control, women had to have their say, and it was through the only thing men can’t live without, sex. So it has become a currency, that comes into use whenever a woman needs something that at the moment, only a man can give her. A nd this happens a lot! The reason women haven’t changed the world with this power, is because they find it hard to rally behind each other. Jealousy and envy are their worst enemies. They imagine that the next woman will have a higher position than them, and that becomes the point where they vote for the male competitor. I don’t need to drive this point home, look at our political landscape and the female players are more often than not, nominated. I assure you right now, were women given the task to end world hunger, we’d all be obese. Just look at the work or regal First-Lady had put into ending the Maternity mortality rates. So impressive is her work that she received an award from the UN. Often have my friends remarked that they would’ve voted for her, had she run for the highest seat in the land. You could burn all the guns in the world, destroy all the nukes in all the silos and disband all militia in war-torn countries, but if you can’t destroy pussy (pun intended) you would’ve been better served twiddling your thumbs and singing Kumbaya. It is a double-edged sword that carves out its marker either with blood or royal ink. The world is clitoris shaped, we just need to convince these ladies to rub it the right way.
0

What amuses me with Twitter and social media in general is that somebody somewhere with a smartphone and a few bundles, thinks of something and decides that the rest of the nation, should think about it too. If we were talking about something important, say transforming the Transport industry so that our fellow citizens don’t die on the roads, I’d be game, but when we are talking about the complexion of someone’s skin, and whether or not it offers them more privilege than the other. Quite proud of this moment, I’m sure my grandkids will swell with pride, knowing their grandpapi was born into this dermatologically obsessed generation. IMG-20141104-WA0010 As nauseating as it is, we are here to play devil’s advocate. Let’s think for a moment, if maybe there’s some basis to this madness. Is there cause to hold debate about skin colour and whether it holds sway over behavioral traits? I hate to agree, but it does. Mostly, its women who are on the receiving end of this castigation. Because, of course even if men had the complexion of an Avocado, we are Adonises right? (cue matrix like bullets) Honestly though we emphasize more on women because they bother more with their skin tone than men (metrosexuals, please catch the next one, this MAN bus is full) Many a company has made fortunes, banking on this obsession, fully aware that women will do almost anything to achieve a specific, more socially acceptable, skin tone. Why is this? Because society has decided, that if you carry this skin tone, we shall judge you this way, if you have the other we shall judge you in another way. Surprisingly, as shallow as it sounds, this . The battle between Light-skins and Dark-skins, has an actual origins story. Light-skins Unarguably the most fancied of the two! They are a colossus on the social meter. Light skin does things to a man. It awakens a sexual demon so malevolent it threatens to overwhelm your very psyche. I have never slept with a light skin girl. Not that they never crossed my path, but because I have a reputation to protect. I’d rather not go down in history as the guy who came in his pants after he saw a light-skin’s pussy. Have you seen light skinned pussy? It looks like a meat-pie. Golden mustard, baked to perfection. When she’s wet, it just gleams off her skin like cling wrap. Dammit!! And the boobs? Like fucking Pawpaws! The little freckles on those mounds, like Morse code for “Please suck my nipples”…. Me? Crying? No, it’s just these allergies you know. When you are the SI unit for most men’s wet dreams, it kind of goes to your head. That’s why people maintain that the light skin is the African answer to the American blonde. Idiotic, empty-headed, oblivious and arrogant. The age old joke about light skinned girls taking the longest time to reply a text, is cliche and true. Half the city (the male one) is in her inbox at any one point in time and thus in her defense, it’s hard to reply a text you didn’t see. Men are buying her cars and houses, I’d be arrogant too. Shit, I’m arrogant and the most expensive thing I own is a picture of a Lamborghini, on my phone. Light skins are even get the bigger share of jobs in the market and getting paid more for less work (lying on your back isn’t work girl, it doesn’t count). Is it any surprise the that countless women are spending a king’s ransom in bleaching services to acquire that fair complexion? This is a beast we have fed and wont be slain anytime soon. Dark-skins Ladies and Gentlemen, let me introduce to you, this exotic cocktail of Mocha and Sex. As dark as the nothingness accompanying the celestials, richly satisfying, put your hands together, for the dark-skin (and the heavens roared in applause). As you can probably already tell, I have quite the affinity for dark skinned women. By affinity I mean a heroine like addiction complete with rehab and itching. I like to think of dark skinned women, as a bar of chocolate, with a vagina. Think about it, God just decided to add colour to a canvas. For centuries, this richness in Melanin has become a polarising factor in the course of history. Slavery , the Civil rights movement in the United States, Apartheid. All because of the black on our skins. The “African skin”, might well be a single turning point in the history of mankind. With that said, they have certainly been a turning point in my life. I’ve always dated Dark skinned women. Never fell off the wagon to bow down to the deceptive temptress that is the yellow puss! Why? Because they are goddesses these dark-skins. They are nothing to scoff at. It’s the contrasts that do me in. The skin sets off, the white in their eyes and teeth, the pink in her pussy against a back drop of chocolate skin. Its like looking at a lost Picasso. The thing that makes dark skinned women have so much depth in character, is the fact that men don’t pay much attention to them. Yes we will find them attractive but we wont fiend for them. We will be too busy fighting in endless competition for a little yellow yellow and ignore the black beauty next to us. It’s because somehow we have convinced ourselves that being dark is an obstacle to overcome. Hence the endless beauty regimens. Dark skins don’t usually skate through life on their looks. They are like a full bodied wine, bold and strong. Plus their sex is like an explosion of every sense the human body can comprehend. I’ve had sex so good I saw Nirvana and a Lamb playing catch with a Bear. It’s beautiful. Bias is a human nature.We will always idolize one thing above another, to make ourselves feel better for attaining it. This duel is skin deep, literally. Its repercussions on the other hand, aren’t. In the end, we are what we choose to be.You are not your skin. Let me watch this unfold, I’ll be the one in the corner, sipping the rich black coffee.
0

Her shoes were killing her. But Loboutins were worth the death of your heel. The walk to the bed was a slow sashay of the hips, as if performing to a silent orchestra. She loosened the belt of her knee-length trench-coat, then let it drop to the floor with one shrug of her supple shoulders. Standing there, nude, statuesque, she could feel his eyes, like hot coals, boring into her back. She smiled to herself. She knew his eyes paid special attention to her plump butt-cheeks. Her ass was like two huge scoops of ice-cream, so perfectly round and creamy he could only imagine what they’d taste like on his tongue. The contour from her hip, to her thighs, those thick and succulent thighs, was at the moment threatening to send him over the rails. He maintained his cool and walked towards her, his dick hard, pulsating in his boxers, eager to taste the morsel that stood before it. afrhmm He grabbed her shoulders from behind, pulling her closer to his chest. She was enveloped in his muscular arms, aching to lose herself in his embrace. She spun round on her heel to face her Adonis. He was beautiful, she thought to herself. She couldn’t wait to cup that handsome face with her thighs and let him taste her already dripping centre. With his left hand, he pulled her close by the waist, and with his right he lifted her chin up closer to his mouth. When their lips met, the velvet touch of his tongue sent soft tremors through her body, straight down to her moist pussy. He leaned into her, making her backtrack, falling down down down until the obstacle that was the bed, hindered any more movement. She didn’t stay down for long and sat up as soon as her back hit the covers. His wry smile, beckoned her to unbuckle his belt and pull down his denim pants. His dick jutted out, as soon as his boxers were removed. It pointed at her. She tried to hide her astonishment but her face was awash with excitement. It wasn’t threateningly huge, but it was big. She looked up at him and smiled. With her eyes still fixed upon his, she opened her mouth, and took him in. Suckling just  the knob at first, before engulfing him whole, until he felt the back of her throat wrapped gently around the head of his dick. She did this all the while suckling his shaft with her soft tongue. She could see his eyes glaze over with ecstasy with every bobbling motion her head made. He knew he couldn’t hold back much longer, he was about to explode into her mouth. He pulled out, just as the sensations threatened to overwhelm him. Gently holding her head, he laid her down and parted her thighs, kneeling so that his lips were at a level with her most carnal centre, the musk of her wet pussy wafting into his nostrils. He went dizzy with desire. He licked her outer lips, and worked his way in. Lapping up her wetness, spreading it over her engorged lips. He pinched the hood, covering her clit, making the fabled little knob come into the light, out of  hiding. He licked it once, she trembled. He smiled. He suckled her nubbin, in-between tongue kissing the inside of her pussy. It didn’t take long before she started to grind her hips to meet his warm mouth. She could feel the tidal wave, edging closer and closer. The shivers went all the way to her slender toes. Her breathe hastened, she was now heaving. He concentrated his attentions, exclusively on her knob. She reached down to his head and held it. Not so much for direction, but as a handle for what was coming next. Her guttural moan and the way her lithe form was shaking, let him know that he had sent her over the edge and into oblivion. All flush and disoriented, she let out a small laugh. She pulled him on to the bed, turned him onto his back and straddled his thick staff. He glided right in, aided by her creamy pulsating lips, still quivering and twitching from her recent orgasm. She leaned down to kiss him and tasted herself on his lips. He thrust his hips up and down to meet her ass riding him ever so gently. She started to suck his dick in using her pussy. Kegels, a girls best friend. It had the desired effect. It felt like she was giving him a blowjob with her vaginal walls. Her held onto her hips and drove deeper into her. afrer She cried out, he was on her G-spot. She could feel it coming over her again, he was big and his head touched her right there! He continued to pummel away at her, hitting that sweet spot over and over again. Tears welled up in her eyes, she was cumming. She could see it in his eyes, he was cumming too. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, as he dug his into the flesh of her ass. They rode the wave together, his cum dripping onto his balls and onto the bed. Looking into each others eyes, they descended the heights of ecstasy together. She giggled, the giggle of a high-school girl who just been wooed out of her panties by Prince Charming for her first time. He smiled at her and kissed her forehead. “Cut!!! Hio ni poa sana! Take five Maureen. Nyash, ume fuck huyo dem vipoa sana. Tutarudi ku film scene ya pili after the break.” The director motioned to his crew to take a  break. Maureen took the towel hanging over the director’s seat and wiped off Nyash’s sperm and her sweat. It was her first day on set. She hoped to be the next big thing, on the Kenyan porn industry. It was daunting, but at least she got to wear Loboutins.
0

Its unnatural. Unapologetically so. Few cases of this are visible even in the Animal Kingdom. Swans mate for life, penguins also have one life partner and 11 other species. But the most genetically advanced species in the world decides that it is oh so fashionable to render our birth givers and nurturers, single. The phenomenon of the single mother has blind sided us, knocking us off balance and we are teetering on the precipice of the destruction of the family unit. There are many reasons why some mothers are single. By choice, or lack thereof, when a lackadaisical excuse of a man decides he can’t reap what he has sown in his mate’s womb, he has PlayStation and iPhone to buy after all, and diapers would get in the way of his funding some rachet’s cause to drink Guarana out of stock in Kenya. We are not here today to save the world (not yet anyway) We are not here to bash the deserters (already did but that’s besides the point) We are here to celebrate the single mother. To remind her that she is a vision, a goddess. Today I assert my opinion, confident in my conviction, that the single mother, is the sexiest woman in the world (did I hear a ‘PREACH’?). I have met quite a few single mothers. Some are my very close friends. They all have different strengths and characters but one thing that they do have in common, is that they are all mind-numbingly hot! So jaw dropping are their looks that I usually have to compose myself (the pants get uncomfortable for some reason) when talking to them. It’s not a coincidence that this is so. I’ll tell you why. Nature has a way of balancing things out. When you have fallen short of one area, it strengthens another. It’s in nature’s design that there be two of every sex in all species. Male and Female. It’s in our sociology that the sexes be together in a union. Polygamous or Monogamous, doesn’t matter. When a man makes a woman a single mother, it is biologically imperative that she searches for another mate. And how does she get another one? By being physically attractive. Hence the Aphrodite look-alike contest among Single Mothers. Let us delve further though and unearth the other tricks this embarrassingly attractive woman has up her biological and social sleeve. Breasts. Its common knowledge that when a  woman gives birth, her breasts become engorged with milk. For nurturing her child – I’m looking at you, peeps from Migori. Gentlemen, we all know we have a mild (mild meaning maniacal obsession) liking for breasts. They are round, bouncy and soft. We like them big, not size Double G big (personal preference, not judging you Mr. Serial Motorboater), just big. And no one has larger natural boobs, than a new mother. She is a guaranteed victim of loads of motorboating. Mbrrrrrrrr! Just nuzzle your face into them while hitting it missionary, you wont last a minute my good man! Titties, titties and more titties. It’s a buffet of titties with single moms (literally). Just make sure you don’t suck them, lest you be awash in milk. If you do prefer to suck them, we might need a therapist for you because you might just be the sickest fuck we have, or you might be from Migori. Ass This is also another physiological development in a woman when she is pregnant. The body stores nutritious fats in her derriere for feeding the baby when it’s a foetus, and for making milk when the baby is born. I know I’m preaching to the choir when it comes to ass. If people are spending fortunes just to get some extra padding in the tush, best believe we love us some ass!! Spank it, grab it, bite it. Its there for your enjoyment guys, play nice. Vagina The Vagina is the best invention in the history of man, only seconded by the English Premiere League. It can push out a baby, stretching to unimaginable lengths, then a few months later, go back to normal like that shit didn’t happen! When it does go back though, Its Madonna all over again! Like a virgin!! It becomes tighter than my end month budget! You’ll be stroking her with tears in your eyes, singing Don’t cry for me Argentina . That sex will be the best 5 seconds of your life! This all depends though with the mother’s willingness to do regular Kegel exercises to tighten her vagina. Be ready to light incense after sex and bow down while chanting “I am not worthy” Commitment or Nah The fact that she is single with a Kid, means she just got out of what was once a meaningful relationship. Not particularly eager to get back on the saddle. If you on the other hand aren’t looking for a relationship either, then this works perfectly for both of you. She’s horny because the last dick she saw  put her in this mess and she hasn’t had none since, you’re horny because… Well because you’re a man. Single moms like to get the ceremony out of the way. That’s because once you’ve given birth, you’re pretty much more bad ass than Batman. No need to beat around the bush. You want to fuck? Let’s fuck. You nut, she cums, just be gone before her son wakes up. On the other hand if she’s been single for a long time and she’s ready to give love another shot, and at the same time you are willing to throw away your Durex packs and let loose your pussy harem, you can make the perfect couple. Because you both know exactly what your goal is. A Single mother has loads to offer both the randy and respectable gentleman. She’s a hot ticket, and I didn’t even need to put her on OLX! Should you be so lucky to bag one, this is the closest you’ll ever get to banging Wonder Woman, because Single Mothers, are the real Super Heroes. Happy Belated Mashujaa Day to all these extra special MILFs out there. You’re my heroes.
0

I think it’s time we dropped this charade. It’s getting older than Moi’s nose hairs and it may earn us men some much needed respite. We have been accused, we have plead not guilty on numerous accounts but have been convicted none the less, even when the charges belonged to the next man. I’d like to throw myself at the mercy of the court when I admit that, all men are dogs. Yes. All of us. Filthy, horny, dogs. We couldn’t keep it in our pants even if it meant World Peace (which it probably does :-/). From your Dad to that silent guy who is always hunched over his computer at work (someone should look into that guy, I think he’s watching porn). We are dogs. Come on ladies, the writing was on the wall, we even gave you a little hint. A dog is man’s best friend. Who said, “Show me your friends and I’ll tell you who you are”? He was talking about man and his doggy mate. Why choose to be a dog? You may ask, well, it’s because we can. Simple. There’s not a more selfish, insensitive and callous animal than the male of the human species. We were not created with a caring bone in our bodies. Caring was just implied in the Creator of the Universe manual. Females on the other hand are blessed with being able to bring forth life, hence are natural care-givers. Save us the guilt trip, those are the sort of characteristics necessary for us to be hunters and conquerors, so that the family could eat and we could have dominion over nature, just as the good Lord intended. If we cared about monogamy and the sanctity of life and all of that ethical crap, the human species would have died out ages ago. This also comes with some baggage, as most men, by default, don’t give a shit about female emotions. Only what they harbor in between their thighs. It’s all a game of who can pierce the most pussies in a single lifetime. A game most men are more than willing to take part in. Other men are less than enthusiastic about our hunger games, because society decided to create morals. Now its frowned upon if I shag 10 girls while having someone at home. I forgot to tell them about her! You try declaring your marital status to her while she’s all wrapped up around you, moving under you, when you’re completely taken by thick thighs with tears in your eyes (this shit even rhymes, that’s how right it is!) That girl will turn into a raging bull so fast!!! If you manage to hold on and keep your dick inside her during the bucking, it’ll be the fuck of your life!!! Better be worth it though, because she will find your wife. Divorce, ostracism, half your wealth gone… Woe unto you if you get caught cleaning the maid’s pipes! Hitler never died people, he just lived on in form of this nonsense. Now, since I feel for all you dogs out there, I did some research and some baking and found a way for you to have your cake and eat it too. Want to be a dog and still keep the wifey around? ‘;o Well, beat her with the same stick she beats you with. I mean fuck her into submission. Yes, there’s such a thing. This theory brings a whole new meaning to the phrase “fuck her brains out”. Scientists contend that an extraordinarily intense orgasm can cause temporary memory loss. Anything that powerful can always come to your aid because even if the memory loss is temporary, the effects are permanent. How many women have you ever heard confess that they want to leave their philandering men but can’t because, and I quote, “The D is too damn good”? It’s what shackles them to the relationship. When they say good D, they mean toes curling, blindness causing, failure of motor functions inducing, mother’s maiden name calling good D. The type she has to ask which year it is afterwards. The type that leaves her muttering nothingness into the pillowcase, twitching. Never underestimate the power of good Dick. Since you’re in trouble for doing the same to other innocent victims, you might as well pick up the experience from your away games to please the home crowd. I won’t stand here and preach that this is the miracle cheat for all you horny bastards, but it’s damn sure going to create some breathing space for you. You just need her to have a reason to hold on to your sorry ass. Plus treat her like a queen. Even if she thinks you’re cheating, the ethereal sex and a dozen of roses you sent to her mother, will confuse the fuck out of her. And even before the jury reaches a verdict of whether or not you’re guilty in the matter of the state vs your libido, their minds have already been swayed by how many times you made them all cum. And that gentlemen, is how you get away with murder, I rest my case.
0

0

Most men didn’t know what they were doing in between her legs, or, she figured, didn’t care if they did. Some tried to impress her. Those with egos bigger than their cars. She didn’t care though. The only feeling she sought from the sex she had, was the feeling of  money on her palm after the deed was done. She wasn’t after comfort, it was hard to be comfortable when you bent over the hood of a car, while a stranger rode you from behind, grunting with every thrust. She wasn’t after satisfaction, how could you be satisfied when half the men you had sex with, came after a few seconds and the other half got you to the edge of the precipice, only to lack the strength to push you over? It didn’t matter. Money was all the comfort and satisfaction she needed. After all, this was her life, the life of a Nairobi Whore. Susan had wanted more from life. She knew sucking married men’s cocks in their cars as their wedding bands shone in the moonlight, wasn’t all there was to life. She loved Fashion and had enrolled in a Tailoring College. One day she’d be the Kenyan Chanel, didn’t Coco fuck rich men before she found her fortune? Fees didn’t come cheap though and living in Nairobi was no picnic either. Hence she did what the other girls at the college did for money, pussy for pesa. Sometimes one of the girls would find a Captain-Save-a-Hoe and leave the night work. It was the prostitution Holy Grail. To finally leave the numbingly cold streets, riding off into the sunset on some rich man’s dick. The life of a flesh peddler was riddled with danger. Ironic since it’s main aim was to provide pleasure. Biological and material. If it wasn’t City Council askaris beating them like rabid dogs, they were getting raped by chokoraas, condomless. This made you unwittingly grow thick skin, to stop life from overwhelming you. And Susan’s was exceptionally thick. Her empathy ebbed away with every customer that invaded her vaginal walls and when she had to run in high heels from the authorities who’d catch her anyway, and every time some ruffian forced her thighs apart and attacked her not so private parts. She was teak tough. She sipped her Single Malt Scotch Whiskey and shifted in her seat on the bar stool. Expensive drinks attracted men of discerning taste. Not the Tusker Baridi riff raff who wanted to fuck for free. She asked the bartender for the day’s newspaper. He reached under the counter and handed it to her. There on the front page was the headline, “Kilifi Killer strikes again”. She shook her head. A serial killer had gripped the coastal town of Kilifi in terror after a string of grisly murders.The nature of these murders was calculated and macabre. His victims of choice were beach hoes, the kind that sold only to whites. Several Harlots spoke, under anonymity, to the investigative journalists. Lamenting how business had gone down due to the fear of getting your vagina torn up. That was the mode of murder. He would insert a sharp object into the vagina of his victims and tear it to shreds with devilish ferocity. The victim would die from severe blood loss. As usual the whores asked the Government to intervene. ‘Yeah right!’ Susan thought to herself, the killer could even be some spurned police officer with a vendetta against these girls. Every one knew they were psycho, these policemen. Plus the authorities probably thought the killer was doing them a favour ridding them of these disease riddled prostitutes. There were no leads anyway, no one knew what the killer looked like and he left no trace of himself anywhere. ‘Yeah, definitely a cop’ she thought. He was effectively a phantom. A figment of the imagination with murderous intent. Susan’s attention was divided by the person who sat in the seat next to her. “This seat taken?’ Inquired the husky female voice. “No.” Susan replied. She gave her new counter companion a once over to see what the competition was offering tonight. She was tall but not hulking. Her skin complexion was like a poor man’s tea, with just enough milk powder in it to take the darkness away. Her small dress emphasized her breasts that jutted out like two mountain peaks. Her smile made you feel like you owed it an ode to its beauty. she was stunning.It was going to be a tough night,Susan thought to herself. “Can i buy you a drink?” The beauty asked. Stunned, Susan shot her a look! “You want to buy me a drink? Aren’t you supposed to wait until you get a client so that you can start throwing money around?” She burst out laughing, as if what Susan had said was ridiculous. ” Hi my name is Clara. Mimi sio malaya” Susan blushed. An apologetic shade of red flushed her cheeks. It was then that she realized, Clara was a client. She accepted the offer for a drink, graciously. The conversation was easy, the wit flowed. It was a while since a client had gripped more than her breasts. And so the question intrigued Susan, what was a bombshell like this doing looking to pay for company? Any man who passed the counter couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She could have the pick of any man, and woman in here. But Susan knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. After an hour or so, Clara asked the bartender for the bill and looked at Susan. “Shall we get out of here? ” Susan nodded in agreement and picked up her clutch. The unwritten rule in regards to walking out of a club, was to walk in front of your client, so that they could have a good view of what they were paying for, made sure they didn’t skimp on the payment later. So she did. Sashaying her ample ass in front of Clara. It worked, Clara grabbed her by the waist and whispered in her ear, “Your pussy is mine tonight”. Susan smiled. When they got to the parking lot, Clara dug through her purse for her car keys. Two beeps and a BMW flickered its headlights. Susan tried her best to hide her awe at the unadulterated display of opulence on show. Clara was obviously wealthy too, and she hadnt asked the price was for her services. That was a first for Susan. Susan got into the passenger seat. Clara sped off, clearly comfortable behind the wheel. She drove a few miles from the club, all the while staring at Susan’s thighs. “I cant wait anymore”. She said to her passenger’s surprise. Clara pulled over by the road. She reached for Susan’s hand and pulled her close and met her with her mouth. They kissed deeply, Clara’s tongue sensually licking Susan’s lips. Clara’s hands caressed Susan’s thighs, and started to reach into her skirt. Susan was already wet with anticipation. She parted her thighs to allow Clara inside. Clara could feel Susan’s panties were already drenched! She pulled them to one side and touched her pussy. Susan gasped. She couldn’t believe that she, a seasoned professional, was being strummed like a guitar by a client. She loved it. Clara, put her fingers inside her swollen mons, collecting then rubbing some of the wetness on Susan’s clit. Then she started drawing small circles around it, slowly, applying more pressure with every completed circumference. Susan started heaving. She could already feel the wave, overwhelming her. She was about to cum. She dug her fingers into the car seat as the wave drew closer and closed her eyes…..! The cold of sharp metal inside her vaginal walls, brought her crashing down from the heights of ecstasy. She tried to scream. She couldn’t. Clara had one hand over her mouth, blood lust in her eyes. Clara pushed in the metal again with such force, tears streamed down Susan’s face. The pain was as incredible as it was unbearable. She couldn’t even move to fight Clara off, something in her drink perhaps? With each thrust of the metal, Susan could feel her strength waning, slowly, into oblivion. So this was what death was like, a snail paced decline into nothingness through an ocean of pain and anguish. Before Susan lost consciousness, for good, Clara cupped her face and whispered in her ear. “I liked you, I wish I could’ve waited and taken you to Kilifi”
2

anaconda3 anaconda 2 I used to like Nicki Minaj. Her flow was sick! She was in a league of her own, so much so that she challenged her male counterparts who couldn’t keep up with her witty and imaginative delivery on her verses. That was until I saw her latest video, Anaconda. God should give you a refund for wasting your time watching garbage perpetrating as art. She sacrificed her refined talent for something that the whole world seems to be obsessed with at the moment, ass. There’s a fascination with ass that I dare say surpasses that of breasts and vagina. Yes men fiend over vagina, but on an international level, ass takes the cake. It’s in all the songs on all the channels. It’s choke hold on society is suffocating. Open any blog and I assure you, it won’t lack a post on ass. Who has the biggest one, is the most popular debate. The emergence of the socialite, is a phenomenon exclusive to our generation. And no socialite is complete without ass. Kwamboka, Huddah (who lost some of her charm because of a lack of it), Risper… Its just ass, ass, ass, ass. Let’s not forget the queen bee (Vee?), Vera. Her ass is so revered, it has made her a living. A huge one! Continually posting pics of her lavish lifestyle, she is the envy of many a gold digging girl. It’s not just a local thing, even in the whitest part of America, the obsession takes hold. Traditionally, among the white folk, ass was a sign of an unhealthy lifestyle. Curves? What curves? You were just fat. Emaciated figures have walked down fashion runways for decades. Pale waifs were the standard symbol of beauty. That is now a thing of the past. Some porn sites now have a PAWG category, Phat Ass White Girl. Yes. And a round of applause, Ladies and Gentlemen for the Kardashian family! That family has ass! From mother to daughters. Hapo unakula kuku na vifaranga wake. No wonder they have to beat black men away with a stick (a gold one coz wealth)! That’s how much ass there is in that family. What pray tell, is the cause of this craving for curves? Researchers at Georgia Gwinnet College, carried out a study to this effect. They have a group of men, pictures of curvy women. An MRI (brain scan)  of these men showed increased activity in the areas of the brain that show enjoyment of pleasurable drugs! These guys were on  a high! Getting stoned and looking at ass have the same effect on the human brain!!! Ha! I always knew wify’s ass was addictive. (I have to say that, she’s watching and I want Chapati Kuku tonight). In an evolutionary sense, female curves signal to a male that she is healthy and youthful enough to carry offspring. Scientists also contend that females with curvy asses, have a lot of Omega 3 fats stored in there. These are the fats that spur good brain development in unborn foetuses. Big ass = Brainy baby! Who doesn’t want healthy, smart babies? The era of the sickly genius begun with the love of skinny women! It must end! In a sexual sense, I just love ass! Especially when you’re in missionary position, and you reach under her and grab that monster, a cheek in each hand. Lifting her up so that your pelvic thrusts meet her clitoris and soon she’s trembling into a mesmeric orgasm. Hitting it from behind is also a prime way of spanking that ass. Pummeling away at her pussy and that ass is just jiggling all over the place! You have to steady that ship Sailor! Hold her cheeks or better yet, her hips! Some guys are so  addicted to ass, that they fuck it. Anal sex is making a foray into mainstream sexual practices, and we are in fact we are behind in its implementation. (Hehehe, behind) What’s that look? Are you trying to say that I’m the only one not doing it? Well, I have nothing to say to that. Black booty, Whooty (white girl booty) Boriqua (Latino/Puerto Rican ass) it’s all the same in this mating dance, just as long as we aren’t dancing to Anaconda by Nicki Minaj!
0

NO OLD POSTSPage 2 of 2NEXT POSTS