If cars are nice, women nicer, willing women nicest, wine glasses awesome, cans of cold intoxication even more awesome...travel and fast cars and friends so awesome. If all these makes your favorite hobbies... Fast cars, men who race cars for fun, traveling, hot women, loud music...then there is no reason you wouldn't love the Rally.
Men come racing from all over the country, women to, some racing also, to watch the real racers race. These time they were racing just past Nakuru. I say Nakuru cause I don't know the name of the town passed it... It's out of town, in the wilderness, what would you expect? Do you know names of small towns? The one you are thinking about is a big town, that why you know it, unless you have lived in it.
'There she was, in one of the cars. I winked at her, I knew her. The guy she is normally with wasn't there. So I went up to her and said hi. The mood was high, so desires were high our moods were high...
She said 'yes' so we walked away from the crowd. Went to the nearby bush, cause we were in the wilderness. She lifted her skirt, I helped her lift it. I adjusted her undies and banged her till I turned into explosive milk. She let me burst it all in and pour in. She would take the pill. I don't know whether people saw. But when we came am sure people saw. Our senses were back. We had to head back.'
She is hot. She has breast as big as watermelons. But I can be sincere now can't I? They were good to look at, so big, very big, extremely big. But too overwhelming. They could cover my face, and your face too, combined. And we both don't even have big faces, now you will get a picture of how big they were.
She was light skinned, beautiful, that we can agree on. So beautiful the first time I saw her, in her black jacket top and her blue jeans. I desired her. She was seated on the back seat, I faced my rare side mirror to face her, not the rare mirror to see the cars behind and about to overtake. To see her. You know men, women come first, we could risk accidents for women, that's why I watched her as I drove.
You don't have to be a damsel in distress. Just being a woman will do, I was staring into the rare mirror instead of the windscreen, right? Thinking of rare things, the road ahead to her behind. Not the road ahead on my windscreen.
She was on my bed, but before getting on my bed we had done lawn tennis. She was thoroughly awful at it. I pretended to have lost my contact lenses so that she could touch my eye. Oh yes she did touch my eye.
We went for coffee, we went for shopping, I bought her things it was epic, especially when she was on my bed. She swore she wouldn't bend over for any man, let doggy happen. But more thoroughly she swore she wouldn't eat up a guy. Do they still make them like that?
In short, we banged, did a doggy in the car, untinted windows, on an empty football field.
She still says that was the best banging session she had had. And I thought taking her to Lamu, she would cum easier for me from there.
She said I had to deserve it for her to eat me up. Oh bloody hell, was it a give and take? If it was I want to be compensated for the dinners we went to. Not for the dinners, the embarrassment you caused me at those. You wearing that hideous white bra that popped out so loudly off your brown dress. You brown dress was awesome. But the white bra, a total embarrassment. I know at other places it's sexy, even I almost find it sexy at other places. But where I took you for dinner, Come on!
I remember when we had nyama at home. I was trying to be a man, we were with two boys, and one girl, two if you count yourself. All seated at my backyard, the sofas had been brought out. I tried to roast meat, but it didn't happen. And the people in the house noticed. So they brought chicken after chicken after chicken done over the oven. I put it on the barbecue grill even though it was ready, to pretend I was such a man. It worked, am convincing, am a lawyer.
"It's important we put it out on the grill to roast a bit more, you know the oven hasn't done quite a thorough job on it."
I used that folk-look-a-like utensil to turn it. Make the meat danced on the grill. That wasn't as true. I don't know jerk about nyama choma. When it is ready cooked. But what was true was that the guy across the table, the one about to fly out to finish architecture school had lions at his place. Yes, it is true, they rear lions. Land as big as that. Don't ask me how I know that, okay, ask me!
I went through his phone gallery, and I saw two lions. They were behind a chain link fence, the silver type that ran from the ground till heaven. First of all, chain link fence, the sorry asses from Kenya Wild life can't afford to fence like that. We all know where our tax goes, right? Even the Internet you are using to view this for is taxed, but no Government Official will let our tax go to fence lions with chain link fences from ground till heaven.
"where is this?"
"home!"
What the bloody hell? You keep lions at home? And they eat like a goat per day. And they need how many tracks of land? Now those are truly the kings of the jungle. Am not.
Not cause I live on large tracks of land. Cause no one respects my territory. And I am as territorial as Scuffy, my pet, I don't have a lion for a pet though.
We all got to know each other on my backyard. On the leather sofas we had put out so that we were comfortable roasting nyama. Or rather, pretending to roast. I introduced the lion-owning friend to the chic I was with, and everyone else. We were all friends now. A drink. Chicken being brought from the kitchen. There was nothing special about that. He said he would love to live there. Heck, I would love to live where I wake up to throw a ka-mbuzi to my pet lions. I guess, we take for granted all we have in wanting other things.
Lions are truly the kings of the jungle. I am not as strong as an elephant, or as tall as a giraffe, as fast as a cheetah. But I lie in the grass, not running around all over the place looking for a fight to survive. I lie in the grass, watching, thinking, choosing what fights to take up. And I have decided...
Lions are truly the kings of the jungle, but I guess am not a lion, no one respects my territory. Especially those in my pride.
The only way you can make things okay, is if you can turn back time, right back to when you were at the rally, untouch that girl, untouch her dammit, unscrew her, un-do the day I introduced you to her while she was in my arms. Drip out all the cum you poured in her. For heavens sake you should use rubber at least, who screws like that?
We all know I don't screw like that. I use rubber, it wasn't me she was with at that bloody bush. It was my friend. That lion-rearing twart. Screwed the girl I introduced him to, and I introduced her to him while she was on my arm.
Walk out of that bush, unseen. What the f*** were you thinking? You couldn't be seen, at the rally? Really? At the damn rally? That's my crowd you two little idiots. People saw, and my phone rang seize-lessly.
So I guess am not a lion anymore, no one respects my territory. I would understand if you weren't my friends. But you are in my pride right?
Away with fake friends! Away with you.
