It’s another quiet Friday evening after an excruciating day of academic frustrations. I’m sitting in front of my television, delving into a large bowl of nuts as I play FIFA. I realize it’s been a while since I last went to party. I’ve been losing track of time thanks to the computer games. I toy with the idea of calling Victor, one of my many best friends. Before I call him, I decide to check on my E- mail for messages and job alerts. As soon as I log in, a chat box pops up – ‘Wangeci Watermelonitra’
“I’m good, mambo vipi?” I reply
“Niko fit tew. Aki I lyk ur articles; Si ukoo mcreative tew sana,” she says
A wild thought comes to mind, ‘here comes another, just like the other.’ A few months ago my friends used to call me Casanova. But since the year began, I have been going to church a lot. As a result, my Alejandro charisma is slowly fading away.
The hard-to-get rule book states that a lady is always attracted to a man who proves elusive, so I decide that I’ll reply after an hour or even the next day. I decide to check out her pictures, on clicking the first image, I love what I see. She’s looking all fleshy by the pool side, droplets of water seductively placed all over her female frame, following the contours of her curves, her wet dark hair looking like a million fibres of fine dark silk. Her lips are satisfactory red like fresh blood and her skin appears like that of a newly born baby. As I continue checking out her photos I find myself falling in e-love. She’s too hot to be true.
In a haze of heady excitement, I throw away the hard-to-get rule book and reply in a few minutes.
“Thanks I appreciate. You look beautiful, is it really you in those photos?”
“I knew u were checking out my photos, and am sure u want some of what you saw…”
Before I could even reply she sends an image; it’s another hot photo.
A familiar tingle of arousal begins spreading over my body. Barely seconds later, yet another image of her pops up. Her tongue is all out in a seductive manner. Not like Huddah Monroe, but just enough to show her good wild side.
My mouth hangs open in utter shock at the image displayed on my laptop screen. With a shaking hand caused by a sudden adrenaline rush, I take a deep breath and click to minimize the picture before any of the team mafisi could set their eyes on it.
Feelings of buried lust course through me as I try to regain composure while I swing in my chair. I continue with my confused stare onto the bright screen. A mixture of disbelief and want-on longing wash through me as I feel my chest heaving slightly. So I go ahead and ask her how I can get it, since she already knows what I want. She replies;
“Napark Komaa, I stay with my sis but ameenda shags. You can come over and keep me company.”
A quick gasp escapes my lips as I ponder the idea for a while. I don’t usually like spending the night elsewhere apart from my crib and my aunt’s couch when in exile. I ask her if she can come over instead but she refuses.
“Plz kuja Brayo, I can’t leave the house like that. My sis hayuko aki.”
After juggling between No and Yes for a while, I agree. I quickly take a shower after which I rush to the supermarket to buy a bottle of red wine with some chocolate and then board a matatu. Forty five minutes later, I alight at koma-rock. After informing her of my arrival, she requests me to wait at the stage as she comes to pick me up. Moments later, she shows up, looking all glittering and lovely. We hug and smile at each other then she goes ahead to plant a huge kiss on my neck – a gesture which triggers a surge in my testosterone levels. I’m now certain that critically acclaimed action is going to happen once we are behind closed doors. I follow her well molded round derriere, hungrily like a hyena as she leads the way.
Its turns out to be a long walk but she keeps on assuring me that we’re about to arrive. She turns and smiles, displaying her perfect pearly white teeth in the process before making a quick detour into a dark alley between two buildings nearby.
“Hii ni panya route Bryant, hatuko mbaallliiii ivoo!” she assures me.
I follow her blindly into the dark alley as my eyes are glued to her fleshy derriere. Out of the blues, two hooded guys approach us; they look harmless at first as they go past her. A sneaking suspicion clouds me. Shock soon follows after she signals something to them as she looked back at me. Before I realize what’s going on, one of the guys dives unto me with a rugby tackle that sends me tumbling to the stony ground. The other guy quickly goes ahead to pin me to the ground. He draws a sharp rusty dagger and orders me to stay silent or else he’ll stab me. I plead for mercy for a while before going silent, resting my fate on them.
Terror covers me in a tight grip. I stay silent as they take off my belongings. The two muggers gather all my valuables including the bottle of wine I had in hand as the girl watches. They spare only my boxers and the pair of stinky socks. Soon afterwards, they knock me unconscious with a blunt object.
Hours later, I regain consciousness, uncertain of how long I had been out in the cold. I pick myself up, my head aching and bleeding; my whole body covered in goose bumps. For a while I try to meditate on what just happened. I try to trace my way back to the main road and in the process I spot a Maasai watchman and rush towards him to share my story. Luckily he’s a sympathetic one.
“Pole sana hero, wezi iko mingi sana sehemu hii. Chukua shuka yangu ujifunikie. Acha nikusindikishe kwa barabara usipotee njia. Unafaa kua makini sehemu hii. Unaona kama mimi natembea na kisu na rungu!”
After arriving at the main road he stops a bus for me and explains to the tout what happened to me. From a far I could hear the tout giggling in a low voice. I embark on my journey back home with a sigh of relief, piles of regret – never a fool again.