Magiri the Corinthian

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Meria Mata

Elder Statesman
#1
while scrolling through my old phone i was pleasantly suprised to find this gem from klost, i dont remember saving it (coz i might have been drunk) but well here it is.
This is the story of Magiri the corinthian as told by the one and only Atheist.
(moderators naomba mtafute huju jamaa mvulute yeye hapa)

.
Once upon a village, the atheist was born and brought in
a remote place called Wiyumiririe- meaning Jikaze! The
village’s main economic activity was, has been and shall
forever be poverty. From Nyeri or Nyahururu, you take a
matatu to Nowhere, and when you alight kwa hio stage
ya Nowhere, you walk towards the end of the earth. A
five-hr walk should get you to Jikaze. Our family was
amongst the richest by comparison. Even more important,
we were the most respected family. My father was a vet.
Ok, he wasn’t trained, but had worked as a herdsman for
some mzungu, and could do several things. Most
important being that he could get rid of the placenta
(thigira) out of the weak cows in the village. No cow ever
managed to get it out without mzees intervention. And a
proud man my dad was. He couldn’t go to where the
problem was. He waited for the problems to be brought to
him. And he charged dearly. 13 bob before bargaining, 10
bob after bargaining. A very expensive professional.
And that is how Debora Magiri found her way home. Their
cow- christened ngunu, though its horns were 2 feet
long- had delivered 3 days earlier, and had not dropped
the afterbirth. This was affecting its milk production
seriously- from an expected 2 cups a day to less than
half a cup. Magiri and her brother Kibaiku were assigned
the task of bringing the cow to the village consultant aka
my dad. It happened during the Easter holidays when I
was in class seven. Magiri was in class 5, though much
older than me. Magiri was a Corinthian (term borrowed
from @Flash), and wore a green dress with mafiriri (also
served as the school uniform), a purpleish kitambaa (sign
of corinthianism) and sadak shoes. A very smart girl by
our standards. Magiri was a beauty mainly because she
was brown. Figure didn’t matter in our village, only the
complexion. But at least she had some ass since you
could distinguish front from behind. And she had some
bumps on her chest. Too big for a class five, but good
enough for an upcoming TeamMafisi Representing Jikaze
Kingdom. Her only problem was the brown teeth, almost
black. But you don’t *** teeth, ama? At least not then. I
had not yet known that a mouth was ferkable. She also
had some funny smell characteristic of all village queens
who shared a bed with their siblings. But again, urine is
not poison. Most of us were doing the same in our beds. I
had not experienced pu**y, but was determined to give
the honor of initiating me to Magiri. The problem was her
church. They were rumored to be strict moralists, and
could never put it on head until their dreamer appoints
the man to marry her. I was not yet an alterboy then. And
I was not yet an atheist. And I was not a Corinthian. And I
was not experienced. All odds were against me getting to
her knockers.
After my dad rendered the services, he told me to take
the money. His hands were too dirty- groves had not
reached Jikaze by then. Ok, even today they don’t have
condoms, leave alone groves. It was 10bob, mainly in 5-
and 10-cent coins. It was one hulluva load. Papo hapo, I
committed my first heist job- I put aside 65cents and
gave 9.35 to mum to keep for dad. Mum was one of
those women who didn’t care about money. After living
for over 50 years in extreme poverty, money loses
meaning. She did not count the money. I offered to see
off the lady, the cow and lad, and my dad allowed me
with strict instructions to ensure that their ngunu does
not pass anywhere near our herd. Apart from removing
placenta, my dad also used to climb cows. Ok, not him
directly, but we had a bull for that work, and we charged
0.5 bob shot. Conception required five shots, but we used
to give a discount and allow climbing of 7 or 8 shots for
the price of 5. Mzee was not ready to lose the 2.50 if
ngunu strayed to our bull and got climbed. So I escorted
them. The lad went ahead with the cow. We followed
behind with Magiri. And for the first time in my life, I had
a mental deadlock. Where do you even start? How do
you borrow? Borrow what? I didn’t even know the name
of the thing I wanted in Greek. Magiri would never
understand if I called it in English. She was as thick as
porridge.
Remember the money? Yes the .65 shillings. Immediately
the 65 cents had landed in my pocket, I had got that
orgasmic feeling you get on receiving your first salary.
Damn, I was damn rich. I was as bold as a lion. I could
face the village beauty and if she dare snob me, I would
just flash the money. Thank goodness for money.
Our conversation went thus.
Me: Ii magiri, wiriga kuria thuiti ya kamuti ri? (when did
you last eat lollipop?)
Magiri: Ngai (screaming like a calico), ati ya kamuti? Nii
ndiri ndaria. Icamaga atia? Nii ndiaga mborongamu (god,
I have never eated. How does it taste? I only eat
borogam)
Me: Hehehehehe, ingikugurira ukuhe kii? (What would
you give me if I bought you one?)
Magiri: uuru waku ni kunjiganania. Ningi we nikii
ingikuhe na mwi itonga? (Your problem is leveling me.
Again, what can I give you and you are masonko?)
Me: Magiri, nii ndirenda gukuhikia. Niwona ndihakuhi
kurikia cukuru. Ma njira niukuhikira (I want to marry you.
See am finishing school? Promise you will marry me).
Magiri: Tiga maheni ngoma ino. Wee ugagithii
cekondary. Ningi, kwanyu mutangikihikia athini ta ithui,
na turi akurinu (satan, who are you lying to? You will go
secondary. And again, you can’t marry poor like us, and
we are Corinthians).
I hit a blackout. Where do you proceed from there?
Kumbe hivyo ndivyo mtu hunyimwo? I decided to do
some consultation. I would see Githiaka, the village
climber who was ever boasting that he had climbed
before. So I told Magiri to go well, but if she can promise
to marry me, I can buy her lollipop. She laughed off like
the kariko she was and went away. I returned home. I
suspected my dad had noticed the loss of .65 shillings,
and I knew what he was capable of doing. I thus hid my
loot in a hole just before I got home. And just as
expected, my dad fumed, frisked, beat and cursed me
when he couldn’t get the missing money. I swore I gave
mum whatever I received from Magiri. Never accept that
you are a thief. The beating made me resolve to climb
Magiri, if not for anything else, to revenge.
>>>>>>>>>>>>To be continued

Githiaka was one of those lads who knew everything
under the sun. He could even read the stars. He knew
how to borrow from girls, and he knew how to *** them. I
knew neither, but I had money. That afternoon, as usual,
when all the village lads met in the village playground for
football and d*ck-measuring contests among other
games, I had my mission well laid out. I would engage
Githiaka & Sons consultants to help score into Magiri’s
Corinthian knickers. Githiaka had the largest d*ck (no
g**, d*ck contests were and are still common in our
village), and could shoot urine the furthest- all attributed
to his ferking experience. Githiaka had also developed a
new habit. He was smoking Kiraiku (don’t know English
name, lakini ni ile homemade rooster cigarette). Most of
the time, he used maize stalks coz he had no money for
tobacco. Remember the money? Yes, the .65 Kenya
money. I took fifteen cents and bought a whole stone of
tobacco from the village dealer. That would take him a
week. So when we met that afternoon, and I handed him
the stone, Githiaka was more than willing to help when I
explained my problem. No beating about the bush. I told
him I wanted to climb Magiri mukurino.
Githiaka looked at me with eyes of pity, and I instantly
knew kuna shinda, na si ya matamchi. Did I tell you the
guy can read stars? I think he read my stars and decoded
that I am doomed to never ***, coz when he opened his
mouth, he said, “riganirwo ni gakware kau. Gakiruire
ndithemba, na wee wi *******. Gathicagwo ni mwangi wa
kwa mubia” (Forget that quail. She circumcised last
December, and you are still a ***i. She is being ferked by
Mwangi of Priest). Dear readers, do not be surprised by
this revelation. Everyone in my village is circumcised-
men and women alike. Religious and non-religious. My
grandma underwent it, so did my mother and sisters. My
grandpa underwent it, so did my dad and brothers. So
nothing new there. The only problem was that I was a
***i, while my crush was a muiritu. Interfucking between
the two is strictly prohibited, though it was ok for a
circumcised man to f**k a karigu (uncircumcised
female). The boychild has always been hujumized.
After careful deliberations, we came up with a plan. The
coming week was the feast of Tabernacles. For those
who don’t know, this is the week that Corinthians go to
the mountains to camp for a whole week in
commemoration of the transfiguration event. Parents
attend. Children don’t. What that meant was that Magiri
would be with her brother only when the parents go for
the occasion. That was the time to hit. So, we devised a
plan. We would visit Magiris on Saturday evening after
the parents go for the occasion. I would buy one small
mandazi that used to cost .35 cents. Very sweet, yellow
inside. I was sure magiri had never tasted one. I had
eaten only two in my life. We would ask her to escort us
after the visit, and then Githiaka would borrow for me. If
needed, he would show me how to d*ck the corinthian.
The scene would be some maize plantation that was at
Githiaka’s. Never mind that the maize were only 2 feet
tall, and had already shown signs of maturity (ile kitu
hutokea juu mahindi ikikomaa- muthuka).
And so we visited. Magiris were the poorest of the
poorest in the village. Their 10-by-10 mud hut served as
the sitting room, kitchen, bedroom and store. Of course
there wasn’t much to store. Lakini ile moshi ilikua kwa
hio nyumba! Worse than a train. After persevering for like
1 hour, and after a cup of njahiko each, we were ready to
go. I unleashed my present and the lady was
overwhelmed. If she knew how to hug (and if I too knew),
I would have received a hug. Of course we didn’t- we
hadn’t seen it being done, so a smile and a high-five did
it. I knew there and then that the tree will get inside the
bean. She agreed to escort us. Githiaka led the way; we
followed a few meters behind. I started throwing points.
Me: riu Magiri, na niguo ngwendete, ukahe kii njitikie
niunyendete? (Now Magiri, and the way I love you, what
will you give me so that I know you love me too?)
Magiri: Ngai, ma niunyendete? No nindetikia, kau karigu
wandehera njiguaga gakoragwo na cama muno. Ona
ndingirumia kibaiku witu! (Ngai, u loves me true?
Anyway, I believe. That karigu (the small ndazi) you
brought me I hear is normally very sweet. I won’t even
share with my brother Kibaiku).
Me: onawe ukiri kanyamu gakoragwo na cama (you also
have something sweet)
Magiri let out an annoying primitive devilish laughter. I
couldn’t tell if she was getting into box or not. Githiaka
must have known where this was headed so he slowed
down and we caught up with him. Thank god for people
like Githiaka.
Githiaka: Magiri, kanda ino iguite nawe. Irenda umihe
kamwe nawe uture urite turigu. (Magiri, this guy is head
over heels for you. He wants you to give him one joti, and
you will forever eat turigus.
Magiri: Ngai, tigai kunjiganania ngoma ici. Nii ndiriagwo.
Ndariirwo rimwe ni Mwangi, na ndaiguire ruo muno.
Ndingienda ringi. (Stop leveling me you devils. I was
eaten once by Mwangi and it was painful. Never ever
again).
Githiaka: Tigana na Mwangi. Mundu wa mathina ngina
muti ukoragwo na miatuka ni giko. Uyu wake ni
munyoroku. Nduonaga uria makoragwo mari atheru
kwao? (Forget Mwangi. He is a dirty man until his tree is
cracked, that is what scratched you. This one has a
smooth one. Don’t you see how clean they are at their
place?)
Magiri: Kwao niatheru? Nii ndiri ndaingira nyumba yao.
Kwao nani itonga nimarekaga mundu aingire? (Are they
clean at their place? They are so rich they never allow
anyone into their house).
Githiaka: Ika atiriri, thii nake kwao wone. Ona kwi na uriri,
ti ta kwanyu mukomaga na mburi (Go with him to their
place. They have beds, unlike your place where you sleep
with goats on the floor).
Magiri: (laughing like the kariko that she wa); Ngai, kuu
ingithii to kuragwo ni nyina na niguo atendaga wana
(God, if I go there, I will get killen by their mother. She
doesn’t want upus).
Githiaka: Gike atiriri, thii haha mabebeini urute thuruari
aikie rimwe. (do this then, go to that maize remove
thuruari and let him dip you once)
Magiri: Nongimuhe ii, no ruciu ugagitinda ugiceneneka (I
can give him, but tomorrow you will spend the whole day
broadcasting about it)
Githiaka bent down, touched the earth with his forefinger,
licked it and crossed it over his neck then lifted it
towards the sky. For those not in the know, that is how
we swear by heaven and earth).
Githiaka: Ndehita ma ndukaigua icio na mundu (I swear
you will not hear that with someone).
Magiri: Uga ma (say true)
Githiaka: Ma ya Ngai (true of God).
Magiri: Haya, **** (Name withheld), giuke tuthie na
urikangie. Githiaka ndugatutige, na ndugatucuthiririe.
Turorere wona mundu uhuhe kihuni. (Ok, come we go, but
finish fast. Don’t look at us Githiaka, and if you see
someone, whistle).
And so, like a sheep being led into the slaughter house, I
followed Magiri into the maize plantation. After like tem
meters inside, she lay down between the rows of maize
and spread her legs. She pushed a dirty yellowing
knocker to one side to reveal something resembling a
wound between her legs. Some smell emanated, and I
suspected the wound was becoming infected.
Magiri: Uka riu, ingiria (come now, get in).
Now, where do you start? Get in what? Where? Into that
wound? I had no idea what was expected of me. What
was I to do now? Jesu uka na ndugatumane (god come,
and do not send somebody on your behalf).
Me: Magiri, nii ndiri ndeka uu. Nyonia uria ngwika
(Magiri, I have never done this. Show me what to do,
please).
Magiri: Ngoma ino ukuhoyaga na nduramenya nginya
guthicana? Ruta mubuto ucio uke uturie mary haha
maguru-ini makwa. (This devil, you borrow me and you
don’t know how to *** me? Remove that trouser and
kneel between my legs).
I removed my trouser. Those days, underwear was only
for the circumcised. I put the trouser aside and knelt just
as Magiri had directed.
Magiri: rehe gacunjui kau gaku (bring that d*ck).
She grabbed it and pulled me down towards her wound.
She rubbed it on the wound, and a worse smell
emanated. It shrank even further.
Magiri: Ngoma ino ukia (This devil, get hard)
Me: Njukie kii? (I bring what?) (in Greek, gukia literally
means bring on)
Magiri: Tiga wana ***(name withheld). Ingiria kana
utigane nanii. Ndiraigua ta ngurio ni thuraku. (Stop
babyish. Get it in or I go. I feel like ants are crawling over
me).
Ok, I am not very thick. I understand what was expected
of me. I needed to put the d*ck into the hole. I was
determined to do it. And so I tried. Have you ever tried
inserting the wicks into the holes for the stove (ile ya
green)? I was trying to pull a similar mission, only that it
was dark, I couldn’t see what am inserting, and the bitch
was getting angry. I tried, it just coiled itself over her
wound. I tried again with the same results.
There and then, we heard Githiaka whistle! Someone was
coming. I grabbed my trouser and run deeper into the
maize. Magiri shot up and run perpendicular to my
tangent, in the direction of her home.
>>>>>>>>>>>To be continued.

I got home, trouser still in hand. Just before getting into
the house, I put on the trousers. I wasn’t sure if I had
ferked or not, but if that is what ferking was all about,
wacha ikae. I guess some of us were not created ferkers.
For you ignorant xaxa generation, there was no phone
those days, so I didn’t have an idea of what had
happened to Githiaka or Magiri. I would know the
following day.
Early in the morning, when my parents left for church, I
went to Githiakas. They had serious dogs, thus you
couldn’t just step into the compound and walk to the
house. Plus his parents were not very friendly. So I
passed by the road, walk 100m and beat a u-turn. Walk
back 200m and beat a u-turn. Repeat until you spot
Githiaka. On my nth trip, I spotted him loitering in the
compound. I whistled and he whistled back. That code
meant wait a few minutes am coming. And so Githiaka
came and met me on the road. He was smiling so hard I
could tell there was some good news. And yes, he had
good news. Apparently, he had got impatient the previous
night when we took so long, and that is why he disrupted
our rendezvous. After I had scattered into the plantation,
he had followed Magiri and caught up with her just before
she got home. He had explained that he was impatient,
was hard and thus he decided to disrupt so that he can
*** her. One thing had led to the other, and Githiaka had
ferked Magiri. In his own words, “ucio mutaro ona kirori
kingiingira gitingiumira nikurika” (that hole, even if a
lorry gets in, it can’t come out coz of how deep it is). I
was excited to hear that he had ferked. Back then, we
were not jealous. When you have nothing, you learn to
share whatever is available. Again, I didn’t know that
eating your friend’s pu**y is a sin. I still believe it isn’t.
So, I listened as Githiaka narrated how he had ferked
makena behind their house but was disrupted by her
brother Kibaiku before he could pour the third time. Pour
what? No idea. I narrated to him all that transpired, and
especially the part where Magiri had told me to “ukia”,
how I had moved closer to her in response, and how my
floppy d*ck had coiled itself on her wound like a dead
snake. He laughed until he fell down.
Githiaka: ngoma ino wi mukigu ta nyukwa (this devil you
are stupid like your mother). Note: in my village, that is
not an abuse.
Me: Muguruki uyu ndakigira kun a ni ndirathicire mundu?
(Mad man, where am I stupid and I ferked somebody?)
Githiaka (LOLing): Ngui, uguo tiguo guthicana.
Arakwiraga ukie, ti uke (Dog, that is not ferking. She was
telling you to get hard, not to get closer)
Me: Githiaka , plisi njira uria mundu okagia (Githiaka,
please tell me how you get hard).
Githiaka: (now ROFLing): Nguhoere na nguthomithie
guthicana? No urihire, no ninguguteithia tondu wi murata
wakwa (I borrow for you and teach you to ***? Unless
you pay. But since you are my friend, I will help you)
Me: ma ndeithia. Amba unyonie gukia. (pls help.
Especially how to get hard).
Githiaka told me to get him tobacco; he will come home
in 30 mins. I obliged. That set me back another .15. If
you are good in maths, you know I only have .20
shillings remaining from my heist. And I had not yet
treated myself. Githiaka kept his word. He came and
found me contemplating whether the project was worth
pursuing further. I was ready for the lesson- how to get
hard. And Githiaka did not disappoint. He started by
describing the female genitalia, the male genitalia, and
finally the ferking process. And he demonstrated what a
hard d*ck looks like. By comparison, mine was a pin. His
was a log. God, that lad had a big d*ck! So over to the
next lesson- how to get it hard? Just rub it. Salivate your
hand. Rub the foreskin back and forth. He did it on me,
and it felt good. Slowly, the snake started getting fatter. I
was worried it would get too big for my trousers. He
stopped at some point and asked me to do it myself. I
did. Nothing. I guess some of us are not created for
Kawasaki. Repeat. Nothing. He lost patience. “Get two
turigus (mandazis), and I will bring you the Corinthian
and teach you how to *** in her presence” Githiaka said.
No problem. Githiaka went to fetch the Corinthian while I
was left to look for money. The only option for a lad left
in the house was to search through his parents’ bedroom
for any money. And I found it. 1.3 shillings. Now, a
lesson to all of you. If you steal, steal everything, not
taking a bob and leaving the other money. That way,
when the theft is discovered, your parents can always
attribute it to misplacement, rather than theft. And that is
what I did. I was now worth 1.5 shillings. Enough for 2
mandazi and change. I fetched the mandazi. I also
practiced getting hard, but gave up after no results.
Githiaka returned with the Corinthian angel. She was all
dressed up in a purplish dress with mafiriri, sandak
shoes, the head gear and a belt like those worn by ushers
at Kanyari’s. What a magnificent sight. The moment they
landed on my door, I gave them the mandazis.
Githiaka: ii Magiri ndirakwirire uhe mundu uyu nawe
ndukaga turigu (Magiri, si I told you to give this man and
you will never lack turigu)
Magiri: ino ni ngui ya mungu, ndirageririe kumihe na
ndingiheka (this is a dog of person, I tried giving but he
was ungivable). Then she let out one of her annoying
devilish primitive laughter.
Githiaka: Tondu ni yatugurira turigu, reke tumionie
guthicana (Because he has bought us mandazi, let us
show him how to climb)
Magiri: thii nakuu ngoma ino. Urenda guthica ringi
naniguo urathicire hwai? Nginya riu ndiraigua kinana
kigagatite ta firifiri (Go there you devil. You want to climb
me like you did yesterday, and the may my pu**y is sore
like peper?)
Githiaka: Aca, ndireka kuonia kirimu giki uria
guthicanagwo (no, I want to show this fool how to ***)
Magiri: no sawa. Tuguthicanira ku? (Osorait. Where do
we ***?)
Githiaka: Ii ndirakwirire guku nikuri uriri. ****(name
withheld) tatuonie kuria uriri waku uri (Si I told you there
are beds here. You **** show us where your bed is).
There there, I sensed danger. I had done what most boys
do on their bed at night, and I had not removed the
blanket to dry in the sun. I sensed danger again. But
being the quick thinker that I am I suggested:
Me: Nituthie naguku (lets go this way), pointing the
direction of my parents’ bedroom. They followed. Magiri
was the first to let out a scream.
Magiri: uyu niguo uriri? Mangai guku ndikuma (god, this
is a bed? I aint coming out of here).
She jumped on the bed. Those days, the beds had some
rubber things across the frame to hold the matress. The
matress was a sack filled with dry grass or such other
shit inside. Very comfortable. Githiaka asked her to
remove thuruari, but she shaid that since her dress might
get dirty or wrinkled, she will remove the everything. So
she undressed. Yes, my friends, she undressed. She
removed a tattered knocker which was yellow with
misuse, removed the belt across her shoulders, removed
the dress and removed the sadak shoes, and she lay on
bed. Only the head gear remained. She explained that
she would go mad if she removed that one. Now, lo and
behold my Corinthian angle- totally naked except the
head. On my parents bed. Ready to ***! My prize! But
then the funny smell was still lingering around her.
Githiaka gave the instructions.
Githiaka: ngui ino tiga wana, ruta mubuto (this dog stop
babyish. Remove trouser).
I obeyed.
Githiaka (to Magiri): Muguruki uyu tagania maguru (mad
woman, spread your thighs).
She obeyed. Harufu nayo! But if that is what ferking is all
about, well. Wacha nivumilie.
Githiaka: Riu haica uriri ukomere magiri gatagati ka
maguru (Get into bet between her knees).
I obeyed.
Githiaka: Ingiria muthita ucio waku kirima ini kiu (get
your d*ck into that pu**y).
I tried. I failed.
Magiri: ino shaitani ya mundu nginya itagiukitie (this
devil of person is not even hard)
Githiaka: ngui ino indikuonirie gukia (Dawg! Si I taught
you how to get hard).
I remembered. I repeated the lesson. Did I say some of us
are not born for Kawasaki? Yes, I failed. But thank god for
Githiaka. He came to the rescue. He grabbed Magiri’s
right hard and directed it to my shrinked d*ck. She
grasped it and started pulling back and forth. Hizo
mikono nazo! As rough as stone. She must have done
this to several men because after some time, I was hard
as rock. She directed the d*ck into her honeypot! Yes, my
tree was inside. So I lay there. My member was like
floating in the air inside her punani, but it felt warm. Plus
there was some water. No grip at all. Githiaka’s d*ck
must have done significant damage last night. But it was
good. Ngai fafa! Utamu nayo! Magiri wasn’t feeling good
apparently, coz she shouted at me.
Magiri: ino kari ngombe yak u? Inaria ngui ino (Kwani
this is Museveni’s cow? Grind dog!).
Now in my language, iniria means sing. So I started
whistling my favourite tune “mwendwa wakwa mariru……”
Githiaka was ROTFLing.
Githiaka: Ino ni nugu ya mundu. Ika uu (This is a monkey
of someone. Do this), he said demonstrating.
I pushed out and on trying to push back again, I realized
am soft. It coiled around the smelly pu**y. Magiri sighed
with disappointment, but controlled herself, grabbed my
d*ck, repeated the hardening process, and back into the
well. Better. I did what Professor Githiaka had
demonstrated. Better. Repeat. Very good. Magiri was
trying to synchronize her shakes with mine, but it wasn’t
working. My thing would get ou as soon as she tried a
move. And so, in desperation, she lay there while I
pumped into the air inside her wide punani. I have never
felt better in my life. Githiaka excused himself and
instructed that I do that until some water comes out of
the d*ck. I felt bad. My consultant has deserted me . And
this bitch is too abusive. Will I handle her?
By the grace of the gods, I managed to push on. Like
three minutes, then magiri asked for a break. I needed it,
and I used the opportunity to drink a cup of water from
the pot outside. When I entered back to the bedroom, I
could smell something fishy. I mean a smell like rotten
fish. Lakini haisuru, if that is what ferking was all about, I
would play along. We resumed. The game continued. We
ferked. We synchronized. We ferked. Until she at some
point got too violent for me and threw me too high up.
She turned and started shaking. I got worried. Sweat was
dripping from her headgear on the forehead. She was
panting. I got more worried. Someone is dying here. What
to do? But she recovered, repeated the hardening process
and the game resumed. She did not explain her sudden
seizure. I played along. It was feeling better. *** the
bitch Atheist. *** kabisa. Nikajitia morale. And then it
happened. Some twinkling started at my toes, up to the
knees, to the scrotum, and LO! I poured! My friends I
poured. Inside! Inside a Corinthian.
It was the best feeling. Little did I know that the pour
would haunt me for the rest of my life! I was immobile.
Magiri was now playing along, and helped me sit on the
bed. She dressed up and left me with this words:
Magiri: ngoma ino kumbe niui guthicana ni gwitua
ugwituaga (devil, you were pretending not to know how to
***).
I didn’t know if that was a complement or an insult.
And that, my fellow villagers, is how I climbed the
Corinthian. On the same bed I was conceived. After she
had been fucked by the bigger-dicked Githiaka. But I had
finally ferked! Makofi.
Coming up next week: The Aftermath (including the
smelly house (my parents’ noses are no joke), the BBC
by Githiaka about a circumcised girl fucking a ***i, sorry
2 ***is, the missing money and the ensuing pregnancy!)
 
O

Owuadn

Guest
#6
His writing is so effortless and ideas so coordinated that I'm halfway through but had to stop to compliment the writer.
I see someone has a future in humour writing.
 
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