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.
It’s a Saturday today, and yesterday a vast majority of you was our shaking booty and drowning your livers at various Anti-Mututho establishments across this great drinking nation. During all the grinding and winding to Nigerian and Jamaican hits, the girls got wet, wild and horny and the boys complied with hardened members thrusting through jeans into clothed asses on the dance floor. And why not? Dancing has been long considered a mating ritual in the animal kingdom! The Chipo phenomenon proves that humans haven’t been left out of this evolutionary mechanism of picking people to do the bedroom jiggy with. Unfortunately, the great hindrance to a successful dance hall courtship, is the very thing that we rely on to make it easier to get the girl naked. Alcohol. After buying thousands worth of liquor for this girl, you dance and find your pelvises move in a synchrony that could only mean mind blowing sex awaits, she becomes compliant, you make out at a seedy corner of the bar and you’re sure she’s coming home with you. You’re ecstatic, so is she. You buy more drinks, she spends her ‘just in case’ cab money. It is desperation hour (3-4 am) and for once neither of you is desperate. A toast to celebrate!!! At this point one of three things happens, 1. You black out, 2. She blacks out, 3. You both black out. The black out is never immediate. For the girl it almost always happens in the cab on the way to his place. For the dude, in his bed just after he realizes he’s too drunk to get it up. Coupled with the inevitable mwaura-ing (puking), the environment after a night out becomes decidedly unsexy. No sex for either of you and an awkward morning the day after. Flash back to the point after you’ve danced and gotten mad horny on the floor. This is where your first mistake happens people. At this point you should do one of two things 1. Stop drinking 2. Have a quickie. Because none of you are weak pussies I expect you to pick the second option. The quickie is the better option here because you stop drinking by default and you get to give her a mad round of whiskey dick to whet her appetite for later bedroom shenanigans. This isn’t to say that the quickie is fool proof. No. You could fuck it up so bad she’ll stand on the bar and announce it to everyone there, and then walk around all of Westie warning every girl she meets to stay clear of your disaster phallus. This is how to make sure she screams in ululations at that first drunken quickie: 1. Flirting “Ah Minx! Stop telling us the obvious!” If it’s so obvious then why do you get it so wrong? First thing you should get is her number. In this digital age we’re veritable olympic champions at sexting. Do not wait to do it a few days later. Start at the pub. Girls love words. A little undercover sexting, with her friends and yours seated right there, unaware that you just told her she smells so good you can’t wait to take off her panties and bury them in your nostrils. “All I can think about is licking behind your ear, kissing and nibbling on your neck. Tongue trailing lower to the cleft in between you…” Get her so wet and ready, clit throbbing in time with her heartbeat, that the mere suggestion of a quickie makes her pussy quiver. 2. Location, location, location The pub’s restroom, a side street near the club, right there on the dance floor with her dress hiked up and you fly open, an empty room if you’re at a house party, parking lot, in a car…wherever you’re comfortable, the possibilities are endless. The possibility of being caught is sexy as fuck! Actually being caught? Not so much. Be on the lookout for passersby, creeps with cameras (you don’t want to end up on YouTube)—and, er, the police. 3. Get Slippery You have been drinking and alcohol is known to dehydrate. The truth is that no matter how horny she is, she might not be wet enough. To avoid friction that’ll cause a great deal of pain, always be sure to carry lube with you. DO NOT use lotion, Vaseline, baby oil or any petroleum products as lube. That’s just inviting infection to an otherwise delightful vaj. Water based lubricants are perfect for this kind of thing. Invest in a good lubricant. Just a little and you’re raring to go! No foreplay required and perfect after the drying that comes after a night out. 4. Take The Direct Route This is a quickie, any acrobatics take time away when you could be inside her counting to the standard 40 strokes required to make her cum (aye KOT?) Doggie is always a favorite. Give the penis direct access to her gspot and voila! Lightning fast orgasm for her and deep penetration for him. If you’ve chosen a hard surface, like a table or bed, then missionary is the truth. It’s a tried and tested formula and it’s perfect for clitoral stimulation with his pubic bone area. Or you could try stand up sex and have him reach down to your clit and rub away as he thrusts. This will send you over the edge in record time. The best part of the clubbing quickie is that even if you drink yourself silly afterwards, both of you have had a sterling performance and any failure to perform won’t be as embarrassing. She will respect you as a stallion and he won’t give bitter monologues online about the b**** he spent a fortune on that blacked out in the cab then puked on his converse sneaks.