The men-eating lionesses of Tsavo will devour you any day of the week, and if it’s the end of the week, they’ll undress you first before sinking you whole into their insatiable appetite.
One is your classmate, and like a sacrificial lamb she’ll have you in her tow, up the hilly Mlamba road and all the way to sacrificial altar; the Tsavo Hostels.
You remember seeing her backside first, and like all other men said a little prayer asking God to forgive every sin your mind had committed with that ass. Hell of a backside. One that calms a Tsunami. She is your classmate but she’s never said hi to you, until today, the day your first CAT papers are returned.
Books have really never been enemies with you so all eyes turn to you when the Prof calls out your name as having the highest score in that Chemistry paper.
Today is the day you woke up on the right side of the bed. She greets you just as soon as everyone else takes leave, and like disillusioned buffoon stammer out, ‘’Eer ee mzuri sana.’’
A ‘hi’ is simply taken as a reply to a ‘hi’, what do you mean ‘’Mzuri sana’’
She laments about not having carrying her mwaks for the CAT and that’s why she recorded a paltry 10. To this you softly giggle and she knows she now has a ‘tuition teacher’. You will be devoured my friend. The Tsavo will be your demise.
It’s your first semester in Campus and you’ve never taken a lady to your room yet, but hey it’s not your fault, that ladies will never step into Ruwenzori Hostels is not your making. So when Lady Tsavo asks you where you stay you claim to be non-resident, but usually spend most of your time at a friend’s in Ruwenzori before leaving for your palace at the Main Gates.
You are now in her room, Tsavo number #censored#. To be honest, you do not know how you got here, but you do remember two words from her last statement before you both left the lecture halls and came up to the Tsavo; ‘fries’ and ‘come over’. You were invited over for some fries, but today my friend, you will be fried.
You find no one her room, the beds neatly spread you dread soiling them with your corduroy trousers, but she offers you one, ‘have a bed’’. Let’s pause a little and say a prayer for the sins your eyes have committed up to this point.
She expertly pulls out her pullover and her boobs add up to the pile of trouble you’re already having. It’s meant to be a Chemistry tuition afternoon but if happenings continue to unfold like this, the little man tucked away in your corduroy is in immense trouble. You let out a soft fart as a result of trying too hard to stay normal and less pensive. You are lucky, unlike other soft farts, this one does not betray you. It plays cool, chini ya mae .
Lady Tsavo has served you a drink, pineapple juice.
‘’Would you love a cocktail?’’
‘’Oh no, thank you’’ ß what you said
‘’Really? I have enough cock problems already’’ ß What you meant
In all honesty, you declined the cocktail offer because you pitied her. How was she to prepare a whole chicken during your very short stay at her place? So you declined, said the juice was all enough for you, she could save the cocktail for another day, perhaps a day when you’ll be actually hungry. You will torment that chicken, you promise yourself.
She now has turned over her books and is looking for her Chemistry book, you on the other hand have taken control over your affairs and the little man is having a nap now.
‘’I kinda feel uncomfy in this jeans, would you mind me changing into my hotpants before we begin?’’
It lands on you like a thunderbolt. How? Why? With you in the room? Lord have mercy.
‘’It’s all fine, take your time’’
The jeans trousers come down and the heavens too come down with them. You are finished. And what’s this she’s been wearing under her trouser? Surely that’s not what ladies wear these days, how does one feel comfortable in that piece of clothing? You promised yourself not to look while she changed into something else but hey, our forefathers died fighting for freedom, such tender freedoms like this.
It’s another uphill climb as she drags her ass to yet another tight clothing, she called it hotpant. It really is going to be a hot chemistry session, full of panting.
To be continued…