THE MP ERECT (PART TWO)

This is a continuation to the first part posted above.

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You see, there is funny story behind the nickname: Kadinywa. Allan’s friend and a none-descript group of experts had long ago decided that no woman, married or unmarried, could match Mrs.Matalanza’s propensity IN spreading her legs wide for items and men other than her husband. The rumor had reached Honorable Matalanza and he immediately went into denial. However, after observing the frequency with which linen was changed in his bed and after noticing the casualness with which his gardener went about his business, he decided that there was more to the rumor. One afternoon he came home unexpected and ecstatic moans greeted him from the door. He had to sit and wonder whether he had ever once elicited such moans from his wife and a touch of guilt played down his anger. Allan had to agree that Kadinywa was an adept name for such a slut afterall.

So, Allan switches off his phone, shoves it into his coat-pocket and shifts his focus back to the boobs. In the course of his discourse with the phone, the stripper has wiggled out of her sheer g-string and is now stark naked in exotic glory. Allan feels a stirring in his crotch, just a stirring. The boobs are bouncing dangerously close to his face, he swallows hard. The girl dips her hand across her belly while gyrating her hips like a belly dancer, swiftly the hand moves past her navel. It travels faster south and now you can hear the loud gulp in Allan’s throat above the music.

The girl does one last hip-wiggle, turns and struts off the small stage towards the DJ booth. Allan follows her with his starved eyes and as he shifts his gaze back to his beer, he notices a pretty face smiling at him a few tables over. He feels a cold swosh through his stomach. Could she have recognized him? Although this is a very exclusive strip-club, Allan does not take chances with someone recognizing him. He prays that the fake afro and huge spectacles are adequate disguise. He  fleetingly glances back and goose-bumps crawl all over his skin.

To say that this is the most beautiful girl that Mr.Matalanza has ever laid his eyes on is a gross understatement. 

“She’s made for you,” a voice shouts in his head. Her skin color is a deep chocolate that looks edible in this lighting. She parts her lips to reveal a perfect set of teeth and a smile that looks like a gathering of Carribean sunsets. Her dressing is a bit conservative and for a moment Allan entertains the notion that she just might not be a hooker. There is absolutely no way of stopping her monstrous breasts from spilling out of her inadequate top.

She rises to her feet and Allan believes that he’s had a heart-attack. He cannot even hear the music as blood rushes to his head in a thunderous roar. The dress reaches a few inches above her knees. She is so curvy she must have been curved by a master artisan. Her ass is so round and big you could play football with it. And now she approaches Allan. Amazingly, he realises that he is fully erect. So erect that it is actually painful the way his mini-dick is positioned. For the first time in over ten years Allan Matalanza is erect. He lifts his hands in jubilation and fully succeeds in spilling his drink all over his crotch.

You might be tempted to think that the cold beer would tame his excalibur but shock on you: Not tonight. The angel ever helpful in her glory fishes out some pocket tissues from her clutch bag and quickly dabs at Allan’s crotch. In the process she playfully grabs junior and pats him aside after a squeeze or three. Allan believes that his head will explode at the pleasure.

It takes a while for Honorable to get his act together and come up with a two word sentence. “Thank You” he manages to whisper completely stupefied by the monstrosity of the jugs before him. She finally get done with drying the beer off Allan’s crotch and rising, she flashes a smile prettier that the sunset. Mr. Matalanza stares back with a grin that would shame a geek.

“I’m Clark” he lies and extends a hand in greeting. Allan the gentleman Clark grips her fingers between his thumb and forefinger and leans forward to kiss her hand (smooth). She blushes profusely and asks whether she can join him for a drink. This is more than he could have hoped for and he almost trips in the process of pulling a chair for Missus Desiree (that’s her name). As soon as she is seated, he raises his hand and beckons a scantily-clad waitress standing yonder. Desiree will have a glass of the reddest wine please: the finest of the house. This is no worry to Mr.Clark, he doesn’t pay taxes anyway.

Between making the order and getting the wine, the DJ switches to Hard-rock and Allan is glad that he doesn’t have to make conversation. He points to his ears and rolls his eyes in a manner to suggest that the environment doesn’t favor small talk. Desiree smirks her lips, blows him a kiss and flashes that smile again. The wine is brought to the table in the tinniest wine-glasses in the world of tiny wine-glasses and desiree grips the rim delicately. Allan views her first sip in slow-mo in his mind.

Every movement she makes is quickly written over Karl Marx in Mr.Clark’s mind. First, she licks her lips, maybe softening them for the glass’s landing.. Next, she grips the miniature glass between her middle and ring-finger. Her thumb stabilises the glass as she lifts it towards her wet lips. She takes a sexy whiff of the wine and savours the smell before taking a sip, almost as tiny as the glass itself. She swirls the wine in her mouth and swallows with an inaudible smack of her lips, which are now glistening red. Good old Matalanza swallows audibly.

She rolls her eyes a shakes an invisible piece of hair from her face. Allan, who has been staring in wide-eyed fascination, realises that there is no beer on his table. His hand flies into the air and the scantily-clad waitress makes her way towards the bar. Desiree gently pulls his hand down, stands up and raises him to his feet.

“Lets get out of here” she says into his ear.

Mr.Clark rushes to the bar and pays his dues in beer and lap-dances. He follows the unbelievably huge ass named Desiree out of the strip club obediently. To his surprise, his hardon has barely subsided in the last half-hour. He smiles at his new record as he hits the landing, Desiree is waiting by the elevator. It pings at the same time that Allan’s phone vibrates forcefully against his chest. He ignores the SMS and quickly jumps into the elevator. Its Just him and Desiree in the elevator.

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watch out for part three of THE MP ERECT

THE MP ERECT (PART ONE)

(In 2010, one of my girls met an MP at a strip club. The drunk MP fell in love with the girl and opened up his heart, and wallet, to my pretty lady. This is the story of a dysfunctional MP and his woes. Follow the blog to read the whole series as I update it)

For the fifty or so odd years that he had not so much graced the face of the earth with his presence, Allan Matalanza had acquired quite a reputation as a very keen premature ejaculator. Infact, the speed with which his testis dispersed seed was now compared to the farts that follow a heavy meal of Kawairimu (beans). The farts come with such ferocity that surprise doesn’t surmise as a description. Well, this would have been an adept simile were it not for his inter-ejaculatory time lapse. You see, not only was Allan a skilled premature ejaculator, but he was also dysfunctional after the first shot. “Could anything worse happen to a man?” that’s up for debate. In the bedroom, Allan could not satisfy a mouse if his life depended on it. The beauty of it was that he had long since learnt not to take his dismal (pun intended) performance personally.

He could fail to take his performance personally all he wanted, but his partners took it very personally. The first time that he realized that his testicles might be wired to a fast-clock was while travelling to Kiserian in a Kenya Bus. He had travelled from his village to visit his father who worked in the city after clearing his high school. He met up with his father in town and they headed to ‘Bus Station’ for the ride home. There was no free seat on the bus for Allan, so he had to ‘Kamata chuma’. A minute after he found a spot on which to stand a very beautiful brown skinned lady who looked like a secretary (I mean afro and a tight mini-skirt that seemed to have been glued onto her ass; between the mini and her feet was a pair of sheer stockings that left you wondering just where they ended) took the position infront of him. Standing behind Allan, was a very fat midget who got angrier every time the conductor packed more passengers into the bus.

So, Ms. Secretary moved a little backwards at the conductor’s prompting and her tight ass brushed against Allan’s crotch. The hard-on could not have come up any faster. He tried to wiggle his four inches into a more comfortable position but only ended up wedged into the secretary’s ass. The conductor called for more passengers and it is adept to theorize that now Allan’s four inches were conversing with the lady’s butt-crack. The lady seemed to notice the poke but she could do nothing about it. More passengers were packed into the bus.

This was going to be one hard journey for Master Allan and he thanked providence that his father was seated a few paces ahead. The bus had not even left the Bus station when good old Matalanza felt a familiar churn at the pit of his scrotum. The spasms followed with such immediacy that he had to bend over into the not so agonizing pleasure. The lady seemed to have noticed what had happened as she tried to wiggle her ass away from Allan’s gooey mess in vain.

By the time the bus was making its way towards the Nyayo Stadium round-about, Allan was feeling the churn for the second time having achieved a second erection somewhere around the Haille Sellasie round-about. He came for the second time in his life without the help of his right hand or a wet dream. He had to admit that this journey was turning out to be quite interesting.

By the time they got to Kiserian Allan had had one more orgasm and this was going to be his successive ejaculation record for a long time to come (no pun). The secretary had a huge dry stain across her skirt to show for Allan’s efforts as she alighted and Allan had one across his crotch to match. He received a few well deserved slaps from his father and the conductor for his misconduct and became an instant laughing stock in the area. The conductors marked him, lest he stands behind another pretty lady on a subsequent journey.

He was by definition s virgin by the time he got to university. A small penis did little to improve his sense of self-worth and his misfortunes had seemingly escalated since his bus incidence. As fate would have it, his roommates at The University of Nairobi turned out to be his exact opposite. Studs who could hump the humping for hours on end eliciting moans and all sorts of sounds from the humpees leaving poor old Matalanza to admire their prowess.

In his four years of B.A (Political Science and Sociology), he only got laid four times. Two of the times were with prostitutes at Karumaido. The other two times were classmates who were too ugly to be considered lay-worthy. All four times he maintained his record. I mean, one time he didn’t even get past touching the ugly girl’s boobs before he shot through his pants like a vengeful machine-gun.

Word spread around campus that Allan could not hold his for 10 seconds and no girl wanted to disprove the rumors. So, his self-esteem became altogether none existent. He quickly resolved to have sex with his fist for the remainder of his campus life. His male friends taunted him that he would marry his fist but he cared not.

His lack of skills in matters bedroom also had its upside. You see, when his comrades were over at Hall 20 (Box) and Stella Awinja seducing virgins and impregnating the rest, Allan would be locked up in JKML reading all the books he could get a hold of. By the time he was graduating in 1990, he could recite Machiavelli Nicolo’s, ‘The Prince’, word for word without as much as a pause. He dove into Karl Marx’s ‘Rise of the proletariat’ headfirst and came out the other end a communist to the bone.

The times were not right for a Marxist. Oh no they were not! The regime that was took any mention of Karl Marx as an act of treason. Allan chose to hang around the reformists who sang, ‘Hang Nyayo’ and it wasn’t long before he found his naked ass in Nyayo house. There he met a very unfriendly female officer of the lawless whose chief skill was turning the male privates into mincemeat. She went to work on Allan’s testicles with deadly efficacy. Let’s just say that what was left of function down there went with the female officer. He was lucky to survive the torture chambers but he left with a penis that did half-mast at its proudest.

The experience served his zeal to see his Marxist ideology fulfilled. It would take him seven years to land a parliamentary seat. He won the ‘Tudinyane’ seat in ’97 and walked into the house a Marxist to floor of his ass. Somehow, the house beat down his Marxism to a pulp and soon he conformed to the status quo. Loot the public coffers he did.

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Fast forward to 31^st December 2010 and Hon. Allan Matalanza, MP Tudinyane, Minister of Prostitution and drug-trafficking is seated in his favorite strip club: The place; On his favorite seat: next to the pole; sipping his favorite drink: white-cap.

Suddenly his I-Phone 4 vibrates in his right pocket distracting him from the huge boobs infront of his face. He mindlessly reaches into his coat pocket. The stripper thinks that a wad of cash is about to show, she is quickly disappointed when the I-phone appears. On the screen it says ‘Kadinywa calling’. This is Mrs. Matalanza’s nickname. He slams the red button angrily.

(Follow the blog to catch up with the other parts of this story and to know what happened when Mr. Matalanza met one of my girls at this strip club. Looking forward to your comments).

 

 

THE PIMP’S COLLECTION

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MY SEXY GIRLS

THE PIMP’S COLLECTION

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KAZ IN HER ELEMENT

THE PIMP’S COLLECTION

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KAZ IN HER ELEMENT

THE PIMP’S COLLECTION

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REAL SEXY KENYANS

THE PIMP’S COLLECTION

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MY SEXY GIRLS

THE PIMP’S COLLECTION

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MY SEXY GIRLS

THE PIMP’S COLLECTION

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MY SEXY GIRLS

THE PIMP’S COLLECTION

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MY SEXY GIRLS