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FacialKnight, Marriage, Real Life Stories, Relationships, Secrets, Twitter Story

I’m having a very hard time getting a Domestic Help for the house. Juggling our jobs, while taking care of the baby and house chores is quite stressful. I am glad I’m in good company, as I found out that many Men out here are also looking for a Domestic worker, they just prefer marrying one.

Seriously dude?

I have serious concerns about this generation. We are the most technologically and academically advanced generation, to date, in  the history of our nation but our Social nous is straight out of the dark ages. Our conscience is in a proverbial sate of Jekyll and Hyde. Capable of tremendous innovation but plagued by an antiquated sense of morality.

It’s quite the puzzle don’t you think? Allow me to explain to you why such a forward thinking generation can be shamefully backward. It  is because we pick and choose what to advance and what to store in the attic along with Cow hides and Magic potions

You see, Kenyans love status. They love anything that gives them an edge over the next person. When someone goes to school and masters their field of study, they are held in high esteem. That’s why we refer to each other in professional terms. Daktari, Wakili, Engineer, Boss. It sets you apart from the rest of the herd, makes you feel special. The same goes for our various cultures. Can you imagine if everyone was made equal in our traditions? No man would ever thump his chest by virtue of what dangles between his legs. There would be nothing to give Men an edge over Women. That is why no matter what postmodern era we are in, people will always gauge a Woman’s inherent value by her ability to carry out domestic tasks. Tasks which, going by our own cultures, are beneath Men.

I remember reading somewhere, that Men  were taught many things, except how to deal with empowered Women. To an extent, this is true, how many times have our Aunties/Uncles asked our Ladies to tone down their overt shows of financial independence all in the name of “Nani atakuoa ukifanya hivo”. Lets not forget the famous Christmas Carol “Bado hujatuletea mtu?”Followed closely by the smash hit “Utaosha aje sufuria za mtu wako ukieka hizo kucha?”

Understand though, the aim of all this demarcation of labour with domestic work being the sole jurisdiction of women, is to safeguard the fragile Male Ego. In relationships, women who give in to this social order do so to avoid heartbreak. You see, there is always a stronger, more handsome, richer Man eyeing your Woman and if you can dull her beauty and power by reducing her to your mboch, then the competition won’t see her. 

“A Man who marries a beautiful Woman, is like the farmer who plants maize by the roadside”

Most Men see it as a matter of inevitability that she will be stolen or taken by a much more deserving Man! The Male ego is a trip!

Ukweli tu usemwe, wa kukuacha,atakuacha. Akue kwa shamba ama Business Class ya British Airways na hakuna kitu utafanya mjamaa.

Taking the above into consideration, don’t you think it’s incumbent upon you fellas, to make sure your Woman is firing on all cylinders? Don’t you want to the world to see that you bagged a sexy as hell bombshell? I love when a Woman is the best version of herself, when she is following her dreams, when she looks and feels her best, when she is truly happy. Men crave the loving of a good Woman, not realizing that what makes her good is meeting her full potential. 

As Men, we need to ditch this archaic bullshit and cultivate relationships based on Honesty, Respect, Understanding and Love because those are the qualities that will outlast any traditional notion you might have.

Now, harusi tunayo!??


FacialKnight, Real Life Stories
Happy New Year to all you purveyors of boner inducing, clit tickling literature!! Can’t wait to see what 2015 has in store, or if you’re in Ethiopia what 2008 has in store (poor bastards, as if traveling back in time wasn’t hard enough). During the Christmas period, in a humanitarian effort to aid your blossoming relationships, I had sex. Lots and lots of the stuff. Sigh, I know. Tedious thing that. I humped, spanked, licked, sucked all for you guys (group hug) It all ended the same way in numerous occasions, lots of calling the good Lords name, emptying of seminal fluids, changing the sheets and tears. Same old, same old. The thing with relationships though is bae is sort of obligated to fuck you. It’s an obligation if unmet, would result in them getting your orgasms from another source. So at some point, you become a chore to your partner, they have to fuck you or you’ll fuck their friend or worse, leave. As if that wasn’t enough, since you bring more than genitals to the relationship, ie money, they also have to suckle your knob to keep you around. That holidays in Zanzibar won’t pay for itself, get on you knees little girl. Put a dick in ya mouf! That isn’t good enough for me though. I have an ego large enough to butt fuck a Dinosaur, I am no one’s chore! I decided there must be a way to make sure bae isn’t thinking about which bracelet I’m going to buy her for Christmas instead of screaming her brains out for me not to stop during coitus. Took the usual route, watched more porn, read more articles, talked to my female buddies, and in all those inquiries I came across three vital pieces of information. First, women produce a hormone called Oxytocin when they orgasm, scientists call it the “bonding hormone”. Meaning when they orgasm, they feel closer to the person that made them cum. Second, women love being spoilt, dotted upon. Why do you think they are obsessed with being princesses, the attention and care royalty receives. Third, women love bad boys. Bad boys are conquerors, they ooze raw power and distinction, they are man in the purest form and nothing excites a woman more than a powerful man. The conundrum was, how was I going to incorporate those pearls of wisdom into my dick game? The first was a given, you have to make your woman cum. Apart from pissing, this is the sole use for your dick bro. I had that covered. I was however skeptical about the other two. You can’t be Mr. Lovey Dovey and still a Ruffneck at the same time, or so I thought! A female friend of mine regaled me with tales of how she bathes and feeds her conquests after sex! Fuck! I know man! That’s some Japanese Geisha shit right there! Then the next morning, she tosses the buggers out onto the street in the wee hours, when it’s still dark out! The poor sod is so confused because no other woman treats him that way, so he keeps on coming back for more. Reward and punishment in equal measure, does things to the human brain you couldn’t possibly conceive. It germinates a craving for approval from this person whom you first deem worthy, then unworthy of your affections. Unfair, but effective. I decided to put this trick to the test, after all, science demands an experiment. Started with the bracelet (yes, I bought it) then sat through her favourite girly series that I always refuse to watch. Made her a few cocktails (is it just me or does that word make you want to go put some cock into some tail). When we got to the bedroom, I was down for some Miguel and Alejandro shit! French kissing the pussy, slowly, working that kitty tenderly like I was prunning the wings of an Angel. Toe sucking, caressing and soft whispers of “I love you”. Strokes were easy, orgasms gradual. I was going to get a Nobel because I left that girl at peace. After a small break of pillow talk and tickle fights, round two beckoned. This time was more like the Desolation of Smaug! Ass grabbing, deep thrusting! Shit went from 0-100 in the twitch of a clit! The back shots were so real, I was going to call a lab to do forensics afterwards! Pulled that hair and dug her face into the pillow, her muffled screams urging me deeper and harder. Before she knew it, she was trembling and digging her nails into the sheets. The second time she came, she took my nut with her! I pulled out, didn’t say shit, wrapped a towel around my waist and left her twitching on the bed. Went to the living room and turned on the playstation, then won the Dutch league with FC TWENTE. Bawse. Moments later, she came to me with a ham sandwich and fruit juice. That’s what I’m talking about!!! A round of hi5’s are totally acceptable here gents. This may seem like a case of manipulation, and it probably is, but in every relationship there has to be an Alpha. It’s not even wrong if the Alpha is the girl. That’s cool. But lust is an irreplaceable component in a romantic relationship. You have to cultivate that lust, it doesn’t come that easy! It’s 2015,a new year, a time for new realizations. So, are you a bawse or a bitch? *Drops Mic*

Real Life Stories, Secrets
Ooooooh, sooooo good! Oh, God… Fuck! (Keep going.)
I am buried in her, well, I am trying to bury myself in her, as she seems to have buried herself in me. This, for me, is more than just a fuck. I give an actual fuck about this one, more than I ever have with any one. The energy ebbs, for an instant before resurfacing with a vengeance, the ecstasy cools, then burns. I am almost there. She places her hands gently on my hips and pulls me towards her, big earnest eyes, pleading.
Keep going. Don’t stop.
So I do, responding to her every instruction, thrust after thrust. This is no longer physical. I am reaching for her very soul. I find a slice of heaven instead, somewhat painfully. The beautiful pain of pleasure? She smiles, satisfied and almost smug, as she watches me.
I love your fuck-face.

Why do I get the feeling you have more fun when I cum than I do?


Stroking my back gently, her warm soft hands reach up to my neck. She lingers at my ears, and presses them to my skull, turning her hands slowly to caress them with her wrists.
You like that, huh. (Yes, I do. Keep going.)
Stroking my hair now, the back of my head,
You have a good barber. Your hair is soft and I like the way it fades downward.

I’ll tell Maina you said that. (Arsenio Hall, baby!)

We are done for now. We have chased the dragon and we have caught it, it now lies writhing and sated within us, resting until the next… Until the next. I get off heaven’s stairwell and lie on her left. Our mouths, naturally, search for each other. This is the one Usher sang that song for, this woman.

Can I kiss you?

Of course. You don’t even have to ask.

Hot, wet, barely restrained, just barely. She is eating me, and I gladly offer myself up. She stops.

I could kiss you forever. (Keep going.)

Some part of my mind throbs, and will keep pulsating, for a long time, with that misunderstood of all feelings, the one that seems to creep up from the shadows and hold your heart and your sanity hostage. You know the one. I dare not speak it out loud, lest I spook her.

Wah, you are good! (Keep going, baby. Stroke this ego.)

I will not believe her. Humility becomes me, with her. In this, anyway.

You’re great too! You weren’t lying, yellow ngwacis are the best! Hii ni diabetes tu, nakuambia!


We sure are not talking about sweet potatoes. I love her laughter. It is pure. I smile in the darkness. In my conquest, it seems, I have been conquered. I wish I did not have to leave for so far, for so long, in the morning. This is more than just fucking. I hope she feels the same way. We whisper to each other, I tell of dreams and falling-outs, she of fears and setbacks. She is real, human, no frills, no chills. Who would not be enamoured by her? I kiss her fervent honeyed lips again. She searches it out, my tongue, and sucks on it, almost tearing it from its base. Is that blood I taste? No, that is heaven.
Eat me, take all of me. Keep going.
She brings tears to my eyes. Her hunger is pain. My pain. I stop her, gently biting on her lower lip, sucking on it, then biting a little harder. I am turned on again, but this one will have to wait. Tomorrow is for our fires. We draw close, her head on my chest, and she pulls up the blankets into some adequate enough cover. She will move away at some point in the night (morning?) I burn feverish, for some reason, superb for cold nights. This is not a cold night.


Our eyes crack open at about the same time. “Good morning”, we both say, and grin like idiots (we probably are). Kiss.

You feel nothing for morning breath.

Nope, and…

Slithering down, her thighs part gladly, willingly. I taste her softly, then nibble hungrily. Breakfast of champions.

Ooooooooh! Whaaaaaaat?! And you eat ngwacis in the morning!? (Keep going.)

Sweet sweet yellow sweet potatoes. Not for too long, just long enough, then… I am seeking for her soul again, inside her, half-deaf and hallucinating (this must be the diabetes.) Where did this goddess come from? Is that a phone ringing? No. We keep going. Then, a slight glance to the right, on the bedside chair. Hers, it is glowing. She turns my head back and stares… forces me to stare into her eyes. I could look into them forever. It stops ringing. Then starts again. Fucking annoying things.
Now what?! I have to take this.
As she does, I keep going. I love watching her trying to keep a straight face as she listens, then she mouths,
What?! Now!?
Pure irritation. She stops. Her change is dramatic. I stop completely.
That was my bro. They are coming over with my sister.

Where are they now?

They’ve just left church in Buru.

My bro drives fast… Like a maniac.

FUCK! Instantly limp and peeved, I slide out grudgingly and head to the shower. She tries to hold me back.
But, you didn’t cum… (Don’t stop. Keep going.)

I cannot.


I have been told that I fap too much by concerned friends. No, they didn’t do it intervention-style, but they would have if they knew each other no doubt. Aye, alcoholics out there, the best way to avoid an intervention is if your friends and family never meet each other. Hii mambo ya introductions muachie the sane, drug free, non addiction prone members of our society. So, back to my nether activities. Well, for those who haven’t been paying attention, I only learned the joys of diddling my nubbin in a few months ago. Don’t get me wrong, I already knew what an orgasm was, and not just from the Mills And Boon stories of my youth. No, a flesh and very hot red blooded male from my past decided to ruin sex with lesser mortals for me about two years ago. His extensive foreplay, lots of vodka and not so substantial equipment, made me see stars. I had the universe behind my eyelids for what felt like a fleeting second but he says I was down for almost a minute, shaking and making sounds he describes as a cross between that laughter that comes from deep within the stomach, and the crying of paid Luo mourners. I couldn’t even be embarrassed. I’d just experienced heaven and I was obsessed with recreating that sensation. Years later, I have given up on the male species. None can recreate that feeling but he who induced it that first time… Yes, I did it with that guy again and no, he didn’t make me cum. With that evidence in hand, I concluded that Eros possessed him that day. The charm, the care, the absolute romanticism of that day, no, it could not be the work of a human. Only a god can make you see heaven. Logic people! Logic! So, until Eros possessed some man out there and ravages me once more, heaven was barred to me. I became celibate. This year, Aphrodite, my Minx’s personal god, felt it good that I learn to pleasure myself. And so it became. My clit for some reason gained about a billion nerve endings and man was I grateful!!! One random day reading through Literotica and feeling myself up without expectation I experienced an intense heat in the pit of my stomach that made me moan like an animal! I was shocked! I wanted more. So I did it again, that light touch across my extremely engorged clit that made colours spin and my legs tremble. A few more and my world shattered. It was magic! Well, months later and I now know that there’s a few types of orgasms out there. There’s the little ones where your pussy tingles and the sensation travels as far as your knees. There’s the medium ones that cause you to tremble all over a little bit and last for about 10 seconds (yes, I have the discipline to time them, for science, for you!) And there the huge ones! These are the kind that make your legs weak and if you’re unfortunate enough to experience them while standing, well, you’ll be very acquainted with the floor when you’re done writhing around in absolute wanton pleasure. One big one actually made me cry…a little. It was one tear! I had a mini black out and when I came to my cheek was wet. It was surprising but that’s one of the best I’ve ever had. I’ve squirted FYI, it was once, at the beginning of my experimentation, and I had done an insane amount of research over the internet on how to make myself do it. 90% of the blogs were written by men: How To Make Yourself Squirt by Some Man. smh. I’d totally get it if the guy was telling other men how to make their woman squirt but noooo, he’s of the balls decides to educate women on their bodies. It’s like a woman writing: Scrotun Care; A Complete Guide On How To Scratching Your Balls. Absolute nonsense! One lady wrote an awesome guide on squirting and as soon as I duplicate my first result I’ll definitely give you the lowdown on that. My fapping adventures continue though. I can’t stop now! I’m basically a teenage boy right now. My 15 year old ‘penis’ won’t let me stop touching it. Besides, Aphrodite and Minx have given me the gift of orgasm, it may not be heaven but it would be rude to throw it back in their faces and stop fapping. So, I’ll keep diddling my kambosho thank you very much! Feel free to call me an addict. All I am is a girl in love with her pussy.

[soundcloud url=”https://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/175770754″ params=”color=ff5500&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false” width=”100%” height=”166″ iframe=”true” /] Transcription Ati riri, Wairimu, di kuriganerwo ni gukuhe ka-story. Ka-story gaka, ri, kwina kairitu ga Kiambu, na kou Ndumberi aga…. Ndumberi? Haya, agatwira atiriri, “Umenye athuri a guku… Muthuri mutumia ora, atigagwo agikoma na airitu a wira. Akamwekaga na guku thutha. Mwagia ndugu renge re, niagakuheaga bia.” Nie ta kuria da re, muthuri niathakaga na nie na nindetigagira nimoragaga mundu nie ngiura. Nu nie kura ndathire, ndakorire mutumia aninetee miaka ikumi kou. Ngimuria atiriri, “U-survive-aga atia? Na uninaga mieri itatu guku, ukainuka. U-survive-aga atia?” Akimwira, “Reke gwire, nie nderorera ma-porno makwa ndaigwa uria ndiraigwa re, nyambataga iguru. Ndambata iguru re, ngathie ngoya kukuba.” Ndioe kana niuramenya kukaba, kana mametaga shushuba (cucumber), ma-green-i maraihu matinangagia makaria sarata (salad) na mo. E sarata iitagwo kiria… nayo tumiitaga kachumbari… Ma-green-i maraihu ona Kenya niukiri. Ati agathie akamiruta fridge akameiga rumu, agakora niithirire heho. Akamenyorokia maguuuta, akaigera uriri. Agacaria kinyamu keigana kinyamu giake. Ati Wairumu akiika akiika akiika akiika, nginya akirikiria. Okoro tiugu, hindi ekoharukia kara, akiika akiika akiika, akagia na urigari fiu, riria mukio ukiiti fiu, ati aiguaga wega, akaigua relaxed, , agakoma. Riu ngimuria ati, “We niugeretie?” Akinjiira, “Ni kuuria?! Nie nderoreire porno ngiukia, ngiika uria anjiirire. Nuu uria ndaigwire, mani, ndirendaigwa!” Atuheaga story na Muikaba ungi. Ni ngiuria, “Ngai, ka andu magurukire?” “Ta njiira, thena ni utumaga uikie mageriaini, mani. Nuu ni hau weiguaga mukio woka ukaigwa ta ekuguruka.” Nuu nie kai maundu mangi ndiramaigwira guku, umenye thena ni muru. Ati gugiuka mutumia ungi agitwira, “Kou murethiaga mugethamba na mai mahiu tundu ndioe kana niogotofora miaka iiri tundu kou kae gutakiri gathee, eeh, nuu ukigoereire ndugu gutire. Ni maisha maku wee wiki. Nie ona kafa kundu free tundu ni mathina mathiri.” Translation to: Sheng/ Swahili Sasa, Wairimu, karibu ni sahau kukupea ka-story. Haka ka-story, haka… kuna dame wa Kiambu, na huko Ndumberi sijui… Ndumberi? Haya, akatu-show, “Ujue wanaume huku… Mwanaume wife akitoka, anaachangwa akitomba ma-dame wa job. Anamtomba huku nyuma. Tukishakua mabeshte, nitakupeanga dough.” Ni kama kule nilikuwanga, mwanaume alikuwa anachezanga na mimi na mi nikaogopa wanauanga watu nikatoroka. Lakini kuna kwenye nilienda, nikapata dame amemaliza miaka kumi huko. Nikamuuliza aje, “Una-survive-ingi aje? Na unamalizanga miezi tatu huku, unaenda home. Una-survive-ingi aje?”Akamwambia, “Wacha niku-show, mi nikijionea porno zangu naskia vile huwa naskia, sasa, napandanga juu. Nikipanda juu sasa, naenda nachukua cucumber.” Sijui kama unajua cucumber, ama sijui wanaziitanga aje, hizi za green ndefu wanakatanga wanaweka kwa salad. Hii salad inaitwanga nini… tunaitanga kachumbari… Hizi za green ndefu hata huku Kenya ziko. Ati anaitoa fridge anaiweka kwa room, anakuta imeisha baridi. Anainyoosha na mafuta, anaingia bed. Anatafuta kitu inatoshana na samo yake. Ati Wairimu anaji-do anaji-do anaji-do, anapata joto kabisa, saa zile cum imekuja kabisa, ati anaskia vizuri, anaskia ako relaxed, ana-doze. Saa nikamuuliza aje, “We umejaribu?” Akaniambia, “Kwani unauliza?! Mi nilijionea porno nika-cum, nikafanya vile alini-show. Lakini vile niliskia, man, sijawahiskia!” Alitupea hiyo story na Mkamba fulani. Mi nikauliza, “Kwani watu walitupa mbao?” “Hebu niambie, shida zinafanyanga watu waingie kwa mateso, man. Lakini ni hapo mtu husikia cum inakuja unaskia ni ka utachizi.” Lakini mi kuna vitu nilikuja kusikilia huku, ujue shida ni mbaya. Sasa kukakuja dame mwingine akatu-show, “Huko mutanendanga kuoga na maji moto juu sijiu kama nitatoboa miaka mbili juu huko hakuna ka-mwanaume, labda uangukie ka-boy na hakuna. Ni maisha yako wewe peke yako. Mimi afadhali place free juu ni mashida tupu.”

Transcription Reke gwire, my dear, arume matiendaga mundu wa kanitha, urehage ukanitha nginya uriri. Muthuri arenda gukugarura, arenda umuigire itina wega, na we urehage ukanitha waku hau ati “Hutia kahora”. Riu “hutia kahora” ni kuuga atia? Kai atare ukaiga maguru mothe at ease, ukamunengera kiria arenda nginya mundu ucio akonaga ta wena ngoma, e nginya kumuinirira ukamuiniria piu! Ui ta, nkt… Wee ni kii uruiga wee… Noo nyende ni direrehe mundu wakwa ukorwo wee hau wee onere gwiko ni kuuga atia. Ni ukahe mundurume nginya akiiciiria kana ni anaheo githemba kiu, riu akoona “Hapana!”, na gutire gwa kinya muthenya angitaganirio maguru githemba giki, na tuu gutagania maguru. Ni ukarekaga nginya akahutia akaigua “Yes, ee theinie”, na ti ithero ri huu, ni wera wee huu. Reke giikwire, ukanitha dwendagwo uriri. Tiga kurehaga ukanitha uriri na meciria maingi uriri na stress uriri, ni kio urathie ukahoria. Wa maanisha ni guthie ku-meet mundurume, thie u-meet mundurume na ngoro yaku yothe na utwite itua na meciiria maku mo? Mothe! No bure wakuua stress ciaku ciothe utware uriri, Ma Ngai, gutire hindi uka-enjoy maisha. No reke ngiguteithie, my dear, arume twena o thaa ici marenda mundu uramakenia. Ungekorwo ndungehota gukenia muthuri-gwo thaa ici, ona nieguthecaana na thie kundu kungi. Nie muthuri wakwa anjeraga live, “Kui, si ati sijawahi jaribu wanawake huko nje. No ngeragia ngaremwo.” Ati mundu muka ni athiaga akamurutira thuruari oguo, arora keino oguo, akarekania na kio. Bwana yangu hanifichangi chochote. Anjiraga, “Kui mimi najaribingi ku-date wanawake huko nje nikijaribu hata kuwatoa suruari hivi, inakuwa ngumu. Ndingehota.” Coz urathie… Anjeraga… Kama siku ingine alikuwa ananiambia, “Kui nitakuambia kitu na usione ubaya…” Ati athie, muiritu amuthumburete muno agithie gwake. Ati arutire muiritu ucio thuruari, athie gukoma nake oguo, ageririe kuinirira akiigwa muti niwaheha, tundu una muiritu daregariora, amuigerie uguo akee kana anoga atige, nginya akirigwo ati fata wa muiritu ucio agitiida akimuuma thutha an ndari na wira aramuteithia ni wa kii? In fact, onandacokire kwa muiritu ucio renge. Na ilim-take time kuniambia hiyo story. Mpaka aliniambia… Aliniambia, Gai, Kui, tiga gucooka kunjekaga madharau tundu ni utumaga nyingere magereinio mange nditendete.” Gimwera, “Kindu gi fata no ndukandehere murimu.” Muthee wakwa, una wona tukehetania, ni mugima munu. Akinjiira, “gai, ni remwe…” Ni nie ndamwekete madharau ngimwigataga live an nindaninire mweri mugima ditegokoma nake. Reke gekwire, arume ni mathiaga nja, no reke gekwire, ukuro niwigaga muthee wako uria kwa kwagiriere, umuheaga itina riki, ona angithie eeke malaya fifty, akili ciake irihoraga oo wee. Ona athie akore malaya kana mitego ihana atia, akili yake… Muthee wakwa nginya ahureire thaa mugwanja, “Kui, ni ma ngeretie gukoma ngaremwo.” Ndiramwera, “Ndukahota gukoma tundu ni uramenya ndi kuraihu. Reria nyuma hau hakuhe, urekaga ciana madharau.” Tundu, nie tuhetanagia gwika ciana madharau, akarega kuhe ciana indu iria irenda. Nie una ti nie muno endete muno, ni ciana. Reu ni urona reu ndungehota guikara hau werorere ciana ikiria thena, ni huu tuhetanageria nake. Noo, reke gekwire my dear, maisha mendaga mundu active, atwiki active maundoini mo? Mothe ni uku-enjoy life. Translation to: Kiswahili / Sheng’ Wacha sasa nikuambie, my dear, wanaume hawatakangi mtu wa kanisa, ati ulete ukanisa hadi kwa kitanda. Mwanaume anataka kukugeuza, anataka umwekee matako vizuri, na wewe unaleta ukanisa wako ati “Nishike pole pole”. “Nishike pole pole” ndio kusema nini? Si ni uweke miguu yote at ease, unampatia kile anataka mpaka huyo mtu anaona ni kama unakuwanga na wazimu, unamsugua unamsugua kabisa. Wee ni kama, nkt, wee ni nini unasema wewe… Naeza taka nilete mtu wangu ukuwe hapa uone kudinya ni kusema nini. Ni unapatia mwanaume mpaka anashindwa kama amewahi pewa hivyo tena, mpaka anasema “Hapana!”, na hakutawahi fika siku atawahi panuliwa miguu hivyo. Ni unamwacha ashike mpaka anasema, “Yes, iko ndani!”, na sio jokes ziko hapa, ni kazi iko hapa. Wacha nikuambie, ukanisa haupendangwi kitandani. Wachanga kuleta ukanisa na mafikira minig na stress kwa kitanda, ndio unaenda unazima. Ukiamua ni kuenda kupea mwanaume, ni upee mwanaume na roho yako yote na fikira zako zo? Zote! Bure, ukibeba stress zako zote upeleke kwa bed, aki ya Mungu hakuna siku utawahi-enjoy maisha. Lakini, wacha sasa nikusaidie, my dear, wale wanaume tuko nao saa hii wanataka dame atawafurahisha. Kama huwezi furahisha bwana yako saa hii, atakutomba na aende kwingine. Mimi bwana yangu ananiambianga live, Kui, si ati sijawahi jaribu wanawake huko nje Lakini, mi hujaribu ninashindwa.” Ati dame anaendanga anamtoa suruari hivi, anaona senye hivei, anamalizana nayo. Bwana yangu hanifichangi chochote. Ananiambianga, ui mimi najaribingi ku-date wanawake huko nje nikijaribu hata kuwatoa suruari hivi, inakuwa ngumu. Siwezi.” Coz unaenda… Ananiambianga… Kama siku ingine alikuwa ananiambia, “Kui nitakuambia kitu na usione ubaya…” Ati alienda, kuna dame alikuwa anamsumbua sana akaenda kwake. Ati alitoa huyo dame suruari, akiishia kumtomba hivi, akajaribu kuamsha, mti ikakuwa baridi, juu huyo dame hakuwa anajipundua, ati anajigeuza hivi anampea akae na akichoka aache, mpaka akashindwa haja ya huyo dame kushinda akimfuata na hana game inamsaidia ni ya nini? In fact, hata hakuwahi rudi kwa huyo dame tena. Na ilim-take time kuniambia hiyo story. Mpaka aliniambia… Aliniambia, Gai, Kui, wachanga kunifanya madharau juu unafanyanga niingie kwa mashida sitaki.” Nikam-show, “Kitu ni bora usiniletee ugonjwa (HIV).” Mzee wangu hata ukiona tukikosana ni m-adult sana. Ananishowingi, “Gai, siku moja…” Hata ni mimi nilimfanyia madharau nikamfukuza live na nikamnyima mwezi mzima. Wacha nikwambie, wanaume hudinyana nje, lakini wacha nikushow, kama unawekanga mzee wako vile kunatakiwa, unampatia kuma kabisa, hata akienda adinye malaya fifty, akili zake zitakuwa kuwa tu kwako. Hata akiwekwa box na malaya ama akaliwe chapati, akili yake… Mzee wangu mpaka alinipigia saa sita usiku, “Kui mi hata nimeshidwa kulala.” Nikamshow, “Hutaweza kulala juu unajua niko mbali. Siku ile nilikuwa karibu, ulifanyia watoi madharau.” Juu mimi na yeye hukosana juu ya kufanyia watoi madharau, anakataa kupea watoi kile wanataka. Mi hata sio mimi anapenda sana ni watoto Saa unajua huwezi kaa hapo uniona watoi wakikula shida, hapo ndio huwa tunakosana. Lakini wacha niku-show, my dear, hii maisha inatak msee ako active, active kwa kila ki? Kitu na ku-enjoy life.

afrisex3 Let me taste you, just a little. But you are tasting me. I like it so very much I want more. You can’t have it all at once. You’ll die  of awesomeness poisoning, and we can’t have that. Ha ha ha! Ok. I’ll bite 😀 No, I’ll nibble. Nibble away, baby. Slowly….. Slowly. Put it here. *Puts it there.* A lick and it’ll go even slower. A lick where? Wherever you want it. Behind my ear. I’ll lick it then blow gently into the wet spot. Your turn. Where do you want this tongue to play? On my lips. Touch them with just the tip. Just the tip of… what? Your tongue. Alright, let’s start with that. So, I run my tongue gently along your lips. What do they taste like… Honey and pepper. Then you… I part them slightly and the tip on my tongue tastes yours a little before I shut my lips again. You taste of nuts and cream. I pull you closer, close enough to fell your heart thumping through your chest. I inhale you, then I bite your lower lip… I sigh out loud and you take advantage of my parted lips and kiss me deeply. I wrap my arms around your torso and push myself up, into you. I grab your arse, hard, and kiss you full-on your moist supple lips. I can feel you hardening against my front. I bite your lower lip and widen my legs a little… Soft flower, ready flower, I can feel her pulsating moisteness. She is ready. I can barely remember our clothes coming off… She is ready, that heady musk hits my brain like a train. *LONG INTERMISSION* Sorry, phonecall. Oh timber. I call timber. Warm, strong, poised. Iron. Ready for me. Heated. Rhythmic. Pulsating in time with my fleshy folds.   afr ero   Heaven, this is what it is. Hell, these thirsts seem unquenchable. Are you the one to sate me, free me in your chains? Can you find satisfaction with one intent on increasing the depth of your longing? Can you be sated? Because I never want you to feel sated so long as you’re intent on invoking this deep, heated… Can satisfaction come from an increase in hunger? Isn’t that we’re here? To figure that out? What if we never do? What if… What if… What if… What if we do? What if we do and it’s all boring from then henceforth? We love or we learn. Forever doesn’t have to happen but we can search for it. Even a slice of it is more than many people will ever experience. As I said, perfect :-* :-* :-* Perfect is flawed. Beautifully. Painfully. Give me the beauty, give me your flaws, give me all your ugly and your insane. All the rage and your pain. I can find light all on my own. It’s your darkness that I want. You’ll have it. I used to run away from myself and it’s tiring. This is me. Warts and desires and dreams and fears. Thank you, for sharing myself with you. Ha ha, I should thank you. I can be naked with you. And you have been naked with me. I think there’s space enough for both of us to be thankful. afrhm What are you afraid of? You’ve been so busy thinking of all sorts of kinky things to do with me you’ve forgotten 😉 Ha ha ha, no. You’re afraid of disappointing your parents. What else? I’m scared of not doing anything with my life, of being a loser, of failing to live up to my potential. What are you afraid of? I’m afraid of being forgotten. Of never accomplishing anything life changing, not for me but for others. I want to be remembered a thousand years from now. I’m afraid of death, of loss in general. I’m a hoarder of souls. I don’t like to let go. These last two, I can relate to. I hate losing friends. I can’t imagine that all that emotion expended was for nothing. I know! Have you ever been at a point in your life where things just seem so undecipherable and nothing seems to be working? And then one thing or one relationship males sense and works? Then you find yourself grasping at it and the harder you grasp, the more it slips? Yeah, in my last relationship. That’s what it was like at the end. School and life in general. Nothing makes sense any more and trying to unravel it all….. When everything’s going wrong and you’re clinging to just that one relationship, it’s probably the reason everything is wrong in the first place. I agree. But what if there’s nothing to grasp? Like you’re floating in a vacuum? You let yourself float then the universe gets a chance to decant you from the mess of a life that’s not meant for you. Haven’t we floated long enough? Yes, but this fluid we’re in isn’t as viscous as the last. I’m finding it easier to navigate, to ground myself. I’ve never felt more lost. You’re a stranger and I’m baring it all to you. You can only find something after you’ve lost it. Maybe it’s because you’ve been waiting for me, you don’t sound like a stranger at all. It does feel strange, to some degree, after a lifetime of wearing masks. ….And that’s one hell of a pick-up line. Smooth 😉 Is it scary? Thank you 😉 Not any more. What does one really have to lose, being completely honest and open? The best interactions are based on this, so it’s a great place to start. I wish I could see your face as you say these things. Just to witness the intensity of all these revelations. Very few people can stand this intensity. Are you sure you’re ready? I’m not just ready, I’ll match you heat for heat, emotion for emotion, promise for promise. Let’s dance, let’s dalliance too. I like that. No. I love it. Give me more. Slowly, mami, slowly… I’m impatient for you 🙁 Show me, how do you look today? Scruffy, like the writer stereotype :-/ I have a thing for writers. They have a thing for you too 😉 There’s only one I’m interested in 😉 *blush* Evening walk. Catch you in a bit. Keep your panties on. I didn’t wear any 😉 images-2

Today I’m going to say a bit (ok, a lot!) about our 2nd closest ape relatives, The Bonobo monkey, Pan paniscus. These monkeys have been linked to us not only by their genetic make up and anatomy, but also by their social and most importantly, sexual behavior.It’s only too obvious that I’m about to bombard your tender sensibilities with details of a monkey’s sex life…no it’s not about bestiality, and that’s because any human who’d try that…well that’s a story for later in this article.

People have been talking about Nyeri women for a few years now. Joking about them. Making snide comments like, “Those Neri men are pussies! There’s no way I’d allow my woman to lift even a mosquito against me let alone a panga! Hell, she wouldn’t even dare watch the news about a fire Nyeri in my presence!!!” Well men, you’re in for a shocker. You’d better start shaking in your boots na mapema just to save time. It seems humans of the female persuasion are not going through the motions of evolution as was previously thought but rather are going back to their roots. Bonobo females have higher social status. It’s a matriarchal society through and through. Females tend to collectively dominate males by forming alliances and use sexuality to control males (mental note: keep main and side bitch away from each other). A male’s rank in the social hierarchy is determined by his mother’s rank (explains why men nowadays are such mama’s boys, it’s not just women reverting to their ancestral ways). Yes, sometimes uprisings do occur against the females of a group where males band together but nowhere in history have they ever beaten these super females. With their mating seasons synchronized for centuries, any attempts at mass impregnation only leads to a hormone fueled victory for bonobo femmes. Do I hear disbelief and contradictory remarks? Ati how’s this related to human females especially those from Nyeri? Well, bonobo body proportions closely resemble those of Australopithecus. Richard Dawkins, in his book The Ancestor’s Tale, proposes that chimpanzees and bonobos are descended from Australopithecus gracile type species; in other words, the ancestors of chimpanzees and bonobos would be some of the Australopithecus afarensis (homo sapiens were once that). The Bonobo is from the Congo basin and according to our history so are our wild Bantu, Nyeri women. That plus the fact that the word Bonobo is reported to be the word for ancestor in an extinct Bantu language, doesn’t bode well for men married to Bantu women. Also take into consideration that this is from the tribe that has a myth about how men got all their women pregnant then staged a coup. It’s safe to say that Nyeri women are just taking back what’s rightfully theirs. It’s not about to stop. In fact their ideology may just spread.

Bonobos are also one of the only species that practise face-to-face genital sex a.k.a missionary position instead of the all too ordinary doggie that all other species have used since time indefinite!!! See, doggie can be boring. Spice it up a little, try doing the ‘Johann Ludwig Krapf’ for once (who didn’t get what that meant? keti hapa \_|_ ).Bonobos practice tongue kissing (hey, it’s not the French who invented it after all! And neither did the Indians 300 ago Uberfacts smh) and…pay maximum attention here, ORAL SEX. HA!!! Finally men can say, “Babe, your ancestors require it of you. Mwacha mila ni mtumwa. Now, kneel…please.” DON’T forget to say please, remember these are Nyeri women thing.

NEXT UP: Dildos. Yup, these wily chimps make dildos. (But it’s unnatural!!!) Out of bark and wood nonetheless. (It don’t get more natural than that!!!) One word for these monkey mamas, NINJA!!! Kwani their vajajays are ngumu how? They’re so hardcore they need bark to rub their G spot right! Now back to that bestiality gig I was warning you not to try with these monkeys. Imagine putting your very sensitive knob into a horny little bonobo female, assuming she’s willing and doesn’t think of you as the ugliest thing on earth. Now remember that she’s been using bark. Yes she’ll rip you to shreds!!! And what of the human female? Do you really want a monkey dong that pleasures the bark loving females up in your tender regions? Didn’t think so.

Apparently pole dancing begun wholly as a Pan paniscus pass time.

Something that’ll make you guys happy and annoyed simultaneously. The bonobo (yes, I know referring to them this way makes then seem like a human tribe), don’t form permanent sexual relationships. Yeah, polygamy is innate…but so is polyandry. What’s polyandry, I hear you ask? Well, it’s origin is from the Grecian tongue (and we all know how pervy the Greeks were). Poly of course means many while ‘andry’ comes for the Greek word ‘andras’ ie man. Yes, many men. Females also have it written in their genetic make up that they can, nay, must have more than one male sexual partner at any one given time. Yes, even during sex. Finding that hard to swallow? (I could so have made a nasty joke about swallowing right there, but I’m just innocent like that) Well, let’s hope this next bit of info will shove it all forcefully down your throats ready for further digestion. All that moaning you males seem to like so much, guess what’s it’s purpose is. Just try. No, it’s not to quicken your ejaculation. And no, Mother Nature didn’t like dudes so much that she created it just for your enjoyment. SMH! No more guesses for you lot! The MOAN is an invitation to mate. “‘But that doesn’t make sense! She’s already mating! Why would she invite…oh, oh…” Now you get it. She’s inviting other males in the area to join. Apparently more than one set of sperm competing for that egg ensures only the very very best gets to be born. So subconsciously your woman is inviting any male in the vicinity to come join in your mattress frolics. So when your neighbour comes-a-knocking…

Nature demands that I join you!!! Just ask your wife! Hey! Let me in!

The louder she moans, the more she wants that Devil’s Threesome! Come on, be a generous lover, give it to her.

The Bonobo do not discriminate between the sex and age of their partners. The only thing they’ve been observed to abstain from is intercourse between mothers and their adult sons. When females reach puberty they move from their clan and join a neighbouring one presumably to ensure variance within the species. Upon joining a new group these teenage chimps then engage in homosexual sexual activity with females of that clan in order to forge new bonds that last their lifetime. This sexual practice involves their rubbing sexual organs and is referred to in very high scientific circles as GG-rubbing ie genital-genital rubbing aka tribbing. (I’m assuming their bark dildos came into use at some point.) Homosexual behaviour isn’t limited to the females though. Male Bonobos have been observed hanging from trees, for lack of a better word, ‘penis-fencing’ ie one was Anakin, the other was Darth Vader and their dicks were lightsabers. Before you puke, they also rub scrotal sacs together as a form of reconciliation after a fight. You can now puke, here’s a bucket. That picture preceding this paragraph, I bet they were like, “Dude, you gave me crabs last time we fought!”

Above picture of Halle Berry and below one of Halle Berry’s boobs in the movie Swordfish, all to help you forget the above article

It’s a Friday, go out and get some…Like a BONOBO!!!

beach Here and now, let me tell you today, NEVER EVER HAVE SEX AT THE BEACH!!! EVER!!! Why? Well, because it’s a really really bad idea for your genitals. So the year is…I can’t remember, and the waves are nice. It’s October, my birthday month and because it’s the beginning of my personal new year, I’m feeling optimistic as fuck!!! I need adventure and I need it now! What’s perfect for a Coastal girl like me? Well, beach sex of course! I’d lived in Mombasa almost all my life and certainly all my sex life and I had never gotten a chance to coit in the sand and salt. I’m not stupid and I listen to the sexual elders that came before me so I knew to avoid the sand as much as I possibly could. No romantic romps lying missionary on a picnic rug on the white glittery sands for me. I’m not a big fan of impromptu FGM via friction or the inevitable bacterial infections that would accompany such folly. I had, had a quickie by the beach once, with Johnny (*sigh*) of the 96 fucks, but that didn’t count because I was bent over from a standing position with my jeans and mother’s unions pulled down over my ass. We were hiding behind the perimeter wall of one of those Muhindi beach houses, it was dirty and sexy. Not romantic, salty and involving lost swimming bottoms…this is what I craved. Johnny’s almost, didn’t count. My October madness considered, I was mad. Crazy for some under water drilling. My old flame was back in the country from educational forays abroad and our first time on Kenyan soil was going to be in the Indian Ocean. Determination was me. He was scared of the choppy waters at first. It was a long time since he’d swam, and since the days of slavery, Africans are notoriously afraid of salty water (Dothraki references anyone?). After my best attempts at acting sexy and failing miserably at it, he followed me in (pity no doubt) We braved the waves that occasionally got the better of us. After swallowing a tonne of whale semen, the sexy bit begun. We were picking seaweed off each other when the tides literally turned. It got sexy so fast! I don’t know how else to explain it but I totally got wet, under water. I was so slippery it was hard to keep steady and told him that I needed to hold onto him to avoid drowning (really smooth, I know). He complied and I wrapped myself around him. His hands roamed and he found my tits, they were set off deliciously in my skimpy swim suit and I could feel the effect I had on him. At that moment I wished I’d taken him straight to bed so that I could explore that massive monster in his trunks intimately. He started playing with my clit but the salty water found its way under the hood. Kumbe that button is sensitive in more ways than one! Weh! I slapped his hands right off! THE PAIN!!!! I’m a determined, horny, little (not-so-little) fucker though, so I was going to finish what I’d started. Besides, anyone that gets a guy hard in such cold water had better finish what she started. Sio rahisi bana! He entered me and it felt soooo good. In and out I bobbed, the water covering me fully at times. I almost drowned trying to keep the movements going. Plus dick that good had me closing my eyes and I couldn’t look out for those killer waves. I kept going though. Because a Kamba girl is nothing if not dedicated. I’ve heard is said (by me) that “Joto ya wasichana wakamba ndio ilimaliza maji Ukambani”. #factsonly Apparently my pussy was just as good (if not better) as his dick and the man also closed his eyes. Sema wave kutulemea! At that very moment the biggest wave ever hit us and we were suddenly 4 feet under water. His dick stuck in me, my massive thighs wrapped around him, we sunk! Deep! I don’t know by what miracle we resurfaced I tell you, because believe it or not, even after about a few minutes fighting the water above us, we never separated. We breathed that air as one, massive dick still moving in and out of me, like our genitals didn’t even need air to go on. They were like “Y’all just do what you gotta do, we live and die fucking.” Apana, hapo I just said no! I cannot die like this! What would they tell my mother when they found my body floating in the Indian Ocean with that thing (probably still hard) inside me? I told him it was over. Thank you but this adventure was over. I was wrong! I hadn’t ever had anyone that large inside me and my body wasn’t used to providing the necessary amounts of juice to lube me up. The guy had rubbed me raw on the inside and the second he withdrew all the way, a rush of salty water rushed in to replace him! Guys, I’ve felt labour and that pain was nothing!!!! My pussy literally screamed in agony! I got to the shore and begged him to cover me with the leso I’d brought to wipe with as I washed my pussy with the fresh water he’d carried for drinking. People were watching but after a lot of consideration and my cookie hurling insults my way for subjecting her to such dire straits, I gave in, squatted and rinsed. It almost felt like an orgasm. My lips were so hot and swollen! And red!!! Never again I tell you! Never ever! Beach sex on my honeymoon? No, not me! My boo wasn’t spared though, the salt water had gotten into his small hole but because I finished all the water washing my poor pussy, he had to semi limp all the way home. I didn’t give up on adventure though, as I said before, I’m too horny to dwell on sexual mishaps.  

I’ve done the dirty to all sorts of music. Ragga, dancehall, rock, death metal (got chocked that time), house, dubstep and one very weird time, Beethoven. I’ve never liked this music and most of the time I didn’t insist on silence because I understood it needed to be loud – to drown out the grunting, hawing and heaving of my partner (I don’t moan, when I do I’m faking it, sorry all my exes :-/) I like quiet sex. Then I don’t have to spend 10 minutes of coiting trying to ignore Konshens telling me to bubble and concentrate on the pulsing of my magic button. Only once did I like the music played during and that resulted, quite honestly in some of the best sex I’ve ever had. His name is irrelevant but I named his D, ‘the one that got away’. You’ll see why in a bit. We met when I decided to turn up for my cousin’s birthday. I showed up at Buffet Park as they were watching the UEFA cup finals and first thing I said to her is, I hope you brought dudes because I need to get fucked tonight. She laughed and laughed until she realized I was serious and showed me who to keep my hands off. Everyone else was fair game. I picked one guy, dark, skinny, short. Just my type. A few minutes of very interesting conversation and he was relegated to the ‘too funny’ category. Everybody knows that funny guys have small dicks. No? Well…I wasn’t there to get the short end of the stick. I stuck to Mr. Funny guy though, he’d be my entertainment for the night. Penalty shoot out, Drogba scores. Chelsea wins, game over. Off to Psy’s LA where we proceeded to dance the night away. I met him there. He was part of our group, a friend if my cousin’s boyfriend. I’d ignored him because despite being short, he was wide and light skinned. Not my type. I wasn’t his either but after we’d both surveyed the area and abandoned all hope for finding prospects that met our sex mate standards, we mutually lowered the bar and deviated towards each other. A little dancing, a few black ices and lots of embarrassing motorboating pictures of him and I (delete those pictures cuz!) later, we left the club and headed straight to his place. He took a shower, we smoked a joint then we got down and dirty. That’s when things got interesting! First this one had the biggest D I’d ever seen and… and… and then he put on Sauti Sol!!! Whaaat! Drunk, stoned and horny I was in pussy heaven! Forget moaning, I sang along to everything!!! Missionary, Lazizi. Legs on his shoulders, Row Your Boat. Doggie, ah that doggie…Awinja ‘Ah! Ah! Ah!’, Bowane Lelisu eeh ‘Eh! Eh!’, Coming…comin…cumming Home. It was beautiful. *wipes tear* We blacked out and I woke up with the most beautiful feeling. I started plotting on how to get a repeat performance out of this sausage funga. Unfortunately, despite all my machinations he was adamant. No repeats, no surrender. I fear in all my singing I’d failed to impress this beautiful dick man and now he did not want to put his penis meat inside me anymore. I learned two lessons from that encounter: 1. To stop laughing at couples that jiggy to love songs from the 80’s. Those songs just get a girl in the mood. In all my cynicism against love, I’d failed miserably to grasp this point during my sex education. 2. The more you do to impress the person under you the less likely they are to reciprocate during that first encounter. If I wasn’t as awestruck as I was that time I probably would have killed it and he’d still be begging for some of this. Well, I probably will never get to taste his sweet D-elights ever again (punished him by never returning his favorite hoodie *evil grin*) but Sauti Sol are still here for me. Never disappointing. They even heeded my unspoken dream of a fap song. Video, lyrics and rhythm perfect for my yellow pages moonwalk within my mother’s union undies. Who needs a man when you’ve got Sauti Sol and sturdy fingers?