I can’t remember who told me this story but I’m glad they did, because now I get to tell you why visiting fine establishments like Sabina Joy, henceforth referred to as SJ, can either be a really good thing i.e if you’re an adventurous fellow, or a really bad one, that’s for the prudes that exist among us normal folk. First off, SJ, is an establishment for the baser gentlemen in Nairobi society (read: poor), located on Tom Mboya St, where blow jobs go for as little as 50 bob. It’s a home for the cautious sex worker that would rather not risk hypothermia prowling the famed Koinange St for customers. Here customers get their pick of brown toothed vixens to spend a few minutes with and get whatever services their pockets allow. I must commend these ladies for offering their services cheaply enough that even the most antisocial brute would not be left so lonely and blue balled that he preyed upon the women of Nairobi. It is a great service they do and it was one of these services this guy G needed on that fateful freezing Nairobi night. He was drunk as a skunk and had only 150 left in his wallet. He was hornier than a bunny on Viagra but knew there was no way in hell he could chipo anyone even if it was desperation hour (3 – 4 am), these town girls were expensive AF! On a normal night the standard cab, chips and chicken required wouldn’t have been an issue. Tonight though… So he trekked from Odeon, his D at half mast as he stared at the scantily dressed females calling out to potential customers, none even spared him a glance, he had poverty written all over him. That is until he got to Eureka. A lady in red saw him and clung to his arm. “Sweery, si nikupatie kandem kakusaidie na hiyo mzolombo imejitoklezea hapo?” “Niko na so pekee.” “Hakuna shinda.” So he followed. It was a dingy room, she was even dingier. He opened his trouser, stroked the snake inside a little bit and put on the condom he found on the chest of drawers next to the bed. She told him ” Loundi mmonja tu. Ukimwaga unatoka” He nodded. In and out he went, 5 minutes…10. 20 minutes…30. People started knocking on the door. She was a busy girl and he was taking up precious time… He wasn’t a one minute man and the booze made sure he’d last a lifetime… She started squeezing him with her p muscles, trying to milk the cum out of him. He chuckled, he was determined to make it an hour. He closed his eyes and concentrated on Scarlet Johansson in this smelly bug infested room… He heard something rip, he didn’t care, Scarlet was moaning his name! The girl under him grabbed his bottom! Yeah! He was going to make this whore cum!!! He pounded harder, nearing his climax but still wanting to make that hour. Suddenly he felt her latex clad finger where it shouldn’t be! What the hell!!! He tried jerking upwards to dislodge it! Too late! That finger penetrated his behind and explored his inner depths with zero apologies. In one second he felt all the happiness, all the pain, all the glory of this world and beyond. He saw colours he’d never imagined existed, spoke in tongues and swears to this day that he saw God! Ah, what joy these lovely ladies bring to the hearts of many a dreadful Kenyan heart!