Tales Of Etemesi

The Kinyozi Massage Girl

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There is this cool kinyozi that I usually go to. It’s not in my hood but the hood next to mine – walking distance. I’ve been going there for close to a year now.
Normally, I used to only chat with the barber whenever I went to get a haircut. I had noticed how hot the Kinyozi massage girl was but I had never really bothered to talk to her because I had seen too many men vying for her attention. I didn’t want to be part of the crowd.
She was light, always wore mini-skirts (no wonder the place was always full) and she looked like she had Somali heritage.
Her name was Faiza.
About three months ago, she began chatting me up.
“Mbona unakuanga umenyamaza ivyo? ” she asked me, as she washed my head in the sink.
“Ni vile nikikuona mi hukua lost for words.” I joked.
She laughed so hard I almost thought I was Dave Chappelle.
“By the way mi hupenda machali wametulia kama wewe.Sipendi watu wa kubonga mob. ” She confessed.
From there on, we struck an rapport and began chatting frequently. For the next four weeks, we would talk a lot whenever I went to the kinyozi.
One Saturday, after getting shaved, I sank my hand to my pocket to take out money. I realized I had nothing. I dropped my 500 bob note somewhere.
Luckily, Faiza was the one responsible for collecting the money from customers so I knew she would understand.
“Unaeza enda tu then utaniletea next time. Ama kama uko nayo kwa phone unitumie. ” she said.
I opted for the MPESA option. She gave me her number and I sent it to her before leaving.
After two days had passed, I received a message:
“Sasa? Ni Faiza, ule dem wa kinyozi. Nilipata number yako venye ulinitumia pesa.”
That message came us a surprise but I proceeded to chat her up anyway. She said she loved my display pic and I told her I loved hers too. She asked what I love about it and I said just the posture. She didn’t buy it.
“Sema tu ukweli,” she insisted.
I said it’s the thighs that I loved. They were displayed so magnificently in the photo.
That’s how we began flirting. By the time a week had passed, she was already telling me how she would suck my d*ck and I was telling her how I will suck her toes (Even though I knew I wouldn’t). We were both naughty humans.
The next I went to the kinyozi, I was nervous.
Halfway through my hair cut, she was nowhere to be seen. I was even about to ask the barber if she was around, before I saw her appearing from the back door. Small, curvy and striking. Her body glowed in the soft lighting, her skin a light creamy brown, hinting at Somali heritage. Her hair slid like a waterfall over her shoulders, parted down her spine by the slither of a whip as it met her flesh again
Her rounded buttocks shook slightly as her body swayed. She greeted me like she didn’t know me and proceeded to sit down to read a newspaper.
Beautiful. She was fucking beautiful. Desire whispered through my veins, gathering momentum, moving faster, surging through my groin. My d*ck tightened painfully, and I shifted to alleviate the uncomfortable tension.
My gaze traveled over her luscious, plump lips that were perfectly bowed and untarnished by lipstick. They parted again as another sensuous gasp escaped from her throat.
Her breasts were high and firm, smaller than I usually liked but appealing anyway. The nipples seemed erect and puckered through her light clothing. What would they taste like? How would they feel in my mouth? Between my fingers?
My fingers curled. I imagined the weight of the globes in my palms as surely as if I were standing in front of her, measuring their size with my hands. My fingers had brushed through them a few times before, whenever she swung my arms backward during ordinary massages. You know how Kinyozi massage girls swing your arms backwards?
After I was done getting my haircut, she washed my head and massaged me. I struggled really hard to hide my boner. She even brushed a hand through it when no one else was looking.

This naughty girl.
When I got back home, I texted her.
“You know you were killing me today.”
“You were looking really nice and fresh too.” she responded.
|”It’s about time inafaa tufanye something about this sexual tension between us.”
“I agree. Kam kwa kinyozi around 10 pm leo usiku if you can. I am usually the last to leave na by hiyo time ntakua pekee yangu.”
What ideas did she have? Did she want us to f**k in her place of work? Or did she just want me to pick her up so we could go back to my place? The best way to find out was to go.
I was there at exactly 9:59. She opened the main door for me then locked it with a padlock.
“Nataka kukumassage…sswa? ” she surprised me.
“Sawa” I agreed.
“Acha nikupee the full VIP treatment.” Faiza added.
Wow,,,this was going to be interesting.
She asked me to sit on the shaving chair and take off my shirt. I did so and remained only with my jeans and shoes.
I then saw her preparing some massage oils.
With everything ready, she went out of the back door and into another room. When she came back, she was naked.
Holy shit! My d*ck sprang up like never before. I was turned on like a mother fucker.
Faiza was a perfect hourglass, her hips slightly wider than her waist, her belly flat and drawing attention to the soft curls between her thighs. They were dark like the fall of hair spilling over her shoulders, and they shielded her femininity, revealing nothing of what lay beneath
What was it about her that did it for me? It wasn’t as if I hadn’t seen women like her before. Was it the mystery? Was it her arresting beauty? Or maybe it was the way she arched and bowed her body, or the way those sumptuous lips puckered and parted, opened and closed, every time she talked to me. She made the most delicious, arousing noises while talking, and I wasn’t the only one affected. I had previously heard other customers saying it too.
Her small, pink tongue flicked out, licking over her lips in a sudden, almost nervous motion, and then she nodded, need firing in her eyes.
Faiza proceeded to give me the most erotic massage ever. She took her hands everywhere, from my temples to my d*ck through my jeans and boxers. At times, she would pause to kiss me. This was paradise.
The massage got more and more intense until it reached that moment where I couldn’t handle it anymore. I was too horny.
I reached out to touch her shoulder. She responded by coming in front of me
Those lips. God, those lips. I was dying to taste them, and suddenly I knew I had to. I cupped her jaw in one hand, made her bend slightly, slid my fingers over the softness of her cheek, then slanted my lips over hers and took them hungrily.