Cold one 2

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               There was a rustle inside. The water had stopped. She opened the bathroom door slightly, peeking out.  “What do you mean?” I looked her in the eyes, and this time, my expression was different. The shadows under the bulb gave my face a subtle weight, like the memory I was about to share had never quite let me go. “The last time kuwa na water heater,    design ilinilima ka ghasia venye nilienda kuzima maji after nimemaliza ku shower nilijipanguza maji nikalala the whole day ju ya kuboeka.” Her hand gripped the doorframe tighter. I chuckled, but it was dry, not amused — grateful. The bathroom door opened fully now. She stood wrapped in a towel, her expression unreadable but softened. “Souley,” she said, voice quieter now,  “why didn’t you just tell me that from the start?” I smiled faintly, stepping to her.  “Some scars don’t talk, unless,  someone listens long enough.” She leaned against the doorframe, th...
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Tales of Jezebel

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I thought it was a joke or that I didn’t hear it right like Samuel of the Bible the second time he was called or that my ears had lots of wax or something. 

She had picked the right opportunity to strike, I tell you. 

Right when 
she had besieged Mr. Abdala, 
into her black hole,
flowing with juices and ecstasy, 
that had made 
many men throughout history to fall.

Looking back she must have probably thought that the conditions were prime, in her favor, and that nothing she envisioned could go wrong. 

That I was ripe for picking and harvesting and that like most men, I was at her mercy or so she thought. 

She was dead wrong as she had missed one crucial detail that made her plans come tumbling down like a landslide, I am Souley Muchiri. 

I ain’t like any other man, I’m the man. To be sure on what she had just said minutes before, I asked her again to repeat what she had just said and Jessica, without any shame, she whispered to me as she sensually and smoothly gyrated her body with Mr. Abdalla inside her;

“I want you to make her disappear.”




She said it so soft and gently as one asking for a glass of water to quench your thirst or a bite ilato eat. 

I flashed her the smile, that has most ladies cats to crave to be stroked by yours truly. She thought she had persuaded me and boy! Did she give me a performance. A performance worthy of an Oscar or all awards you could think of.

The ‘she’ that was to be made to disappear was my daughter Muthoni. A beautiful soul if you ask me, and I didn’t know what in the actual fuck my daughter had done, to warrant such a request to come out of her mouth. 

How I met the mother of my daughter is a really funny story. I was in my final year and I had just fished from a campus event, a second year student, a sexy, curvy, and petite gal called Talia, that name I will never forget. 

I was with my boys and she was with her gals. I noticed her staring at me so I signaled for her to come my way. She came over with her gals to where we were. 

My boys were thrilled, no doubt. Me and Talia chilled with them for a while, cracking jokes here and there before excusing ourselves. 

My bro, Newt squeezed into my hand several condoms that was to be used later on with someone’s daughter then told me before going back to the group; 

“Champ!”

“Jibambe!”

We then went to her place, had a session having a taste of the herb on the corridor for a while then went back in leaving the door slightly ajar. 

I don’t know how my clothes and hers came off and fast forward she had arched her back nicely and yours truly was delivering quality strokes when it happened.
       

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