I had a rough night that prompted me to wake up early. At the crack of dawn. Exams were over and students were preparing to go to their various homes for the short holiday before the next trimester resumes. I usually don't travel upcountry over the holidays. I prefer staying around town; I find solace here, there's the peace I need in Rongai, away from the man my mom married. My new 'friend' also had decided she would stay for the next two weeks and go home to see her parents for a week before she comes back to prepare for the next trimester, her final trimester before she leaves for an internship. I was half happy she could keep me company. The other half carried the fear of her feelings escalating and her wanting more than I can give.
I stared at a blank page on my laptop for about sixty seconds before pressing the first letter to a word in one of the amazing poems I have ever written. I wrote about life, love, and evil. Someone could ask of the inspiration behind my literary works but I couldn't find an appropriate answer. Was it the current situation, life itself, or someone? That depended on the time I wrote the piece and the people around me. I wrote two more poems and fell asleep again. I woke up to two missed calls and two messages from her.
"I am not Simi but I really wanna tell you how my day was." The text started. Wow, this was a sign. Shout I act Joromi or just listen to her? She continued to tell me tales of her long dreamy night. How she'd had nightmares - dreams of you making out or making love to your favorite person. I couldn't tell her I had the same night as hers, call it toxic masculinity. We agreed to meet later in the day at an undisclosed location. My roomie was preparing for his long journey to western Kenya. So had to give him ample time to work on his plans. Since she was staying alone, it was wise if we met at her place given the hot blazing sun in Rongai couldn't do us any favors so we could take a walk. At her place, we met.
I had barely raised my hand to knock on her door then the door screeched open! I was a bit caught by surprise but her beautiful brown face lit with one of her best smiles calmed my nerves. "Hey, come in. I saw you over the balcony." She stretched out her hand to grab mine and pull me inside. She was in an oversize black hoodie that barely covered her hot caramel thighs. Talk of a hot chic on a hot afternoon. Perfect. I blinked twice to confirm if I was still looking at this hot chic. She saw the hesitation in my eyes and asked if everything was okay. How could she not notice my prick protruding down there on my grey sweatpants? There are two types of sweatpants; normal sweatpants and grey sweatpants. Grey sweatpants can't lie, they will show your length to the whole world. We used that to our advantage as the ladies could wow when they saw the machine guns a man carried down there.
"Are you okay?" I pulled her closer to my warming bloody body and tool her mouth. I turned her around that her back was on the door. She struggled to lock it as I hungrily kissed her as my life depended on it. Her taste was all that made me almost run mad. Whoremones awakening. I was becoming a slave; a slave to her amazingly hot body. My giddy hormones always betrayed me in as much as I was in control of my body. In as much as I had a willing body. My mind was always on "do you think this is the right thing to do?" I didn't know what to think about moments like this. I mean there is a hot girl inches away from my body, she wants me, she is beautiful, she gives me bomb sex, will any man not want such a damsel? Unless he is the devil or gay. I was none of those two.
She was high on emotions when my left hand slithered up to land on her bare breasts to tap her pebbled nipple. My right hand was still exploring her back; from up her shoulder to down her big ass. I swear she was getting overwhelmed that those sexy slow moans escaped her lips. Her heartbeat raced and she also worked hard to catch her breath. I loved teasing her to the extent she couldn't take it anymore. And she begs for me to pin her and give her strokes of a lifetime. I was good at that. I was telling my boys the other day that if they want bomb sex and the girl to be over them heads on heels, they had to maximize the time they spent on foreplay. Be the Messi or Ronaldo of foreplay, juggle her nipples, run your fingers through her curves and give her the best head you can ever give, when you are done her legs will be wide open and she will be begging you to take shots at her open goalmouth.
I carried her to her bouncy bed and lay her on the white shots that covered the big bed. Her head on the big teddy bear, it was raised to give her a better view of the workman down her enchanted valley. I didn't know how I got rid of my vest but that didn't matter. Her hoodie was nowhere around her body and nothing really was on her body...just her now sweating skin. I connect my lips to her vertical ones and relished in the delight that was her wet nub. She moaned deeply, her sound resonating through her whole body. Her voice sends waves to my prick which now pulses to an elongating shaft. Talk of being needy. She grabbed my hair almost painfully as I sucked at her and thruster with my magical tongue giving her shivers that made her body feverish with need. I blew my cold air to her clit giving her the pleasure she so desired. Her back arched at the swipe of my tongue and now I started enjoying the session. Torturing her was my hobby. I kept my head busy around the intoxicating scent of her arousal. Planting kisses around her inner thighs. From Thighland with kisses. I left a billboard.
I always made sure she begged for me to enter her and that was exactly what she did. That is what a real man does. Making her beg was an achievement. I don't know about your achievements but if you could ask your girlfriend, she could tell you I'm the headmaster. Her screams from that feeling of ecstasy when she was climaxing worked miracles on my head. I couldn't stop to give her time to regain. It only made me get high from her juices which she had now baptized me with. All was good, I needed some cooling. Her fluids did the cooling. The white bedsheets were now smelling sex, sex on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Our sweating bodies lay lifeless beside each other to catch the breath we had used during the amazing trip to cloud nine.
We took a shower together and changed the bedsheets. Turned on the stereo to some jazz on Capital FM. Some smooth whiskey and jazz do magic. She sat on the bed with her laying her head on my well-built chest. Sipping to a glass of whiskey. We had made it. Yeah, we just sat there like we had the whole world in control. Our lives too. No, we were only campus kids who loved sex and pleasure. We were nowhere near making if save for the little shillings our parents gave us as pocket money and HELB Loans that every other student applied for. We spent the rest of the afternoon drinking and Snapchat. I wrote a few poems for the daughter of Mumbi and she was happy. For a fact, I rarely wrote poems to women I knew. I only thought of imaginary women that I loved and wrote about them.
She particularly loved this one;
Daughter of Mumbi
Light of the rising star
Beautiful as the crescent moon
Give me my heart, that you stole from me
I can't sleep at night, I want to see you shine
Come on the daughter of Mumbi, my star at night
Take me to the galaxies, beautiful star in the night
Give me my heart, that you stole from me
