Dear Mrs. Achman, my love
My love, it’s been 24 hours since I last wrote to you… 24 fuckin’ hours! Love, I am sorry! Like veeeerrryyyy soooooooorrrryyyyy! I didn’t have my laptop and the phone was on ultra-power saving mode the whole night… it later passed out (the phone) as you are about to see.
For you, another chic I shall not see. The slightest thought of me sleeping with another woman provokes my inner stines to stop churning food properly, and you know what that means? Well, that I’d die the moment I touched another girl that’s not you. You know you are the only person I can allow to get below my tummy. Let me explain that.
Just the other day when I was not feeling well, well, I was not actually not feeling well, I was very ill. There’s a difference. So my boys dragged me to clinic. Before I move on, this is my advice to you, free advice. Anytime you want to relocate to a new house, among other things, always ensure there’s a clinic or a good chemistry within. You never know, donkey meat is on the rise… so at the clinic, after examining my pressure, my heartbeat, then telling me to open my mouth wide with my tongue out and say “Ah”, and everything, I was laid on a bed. A damn hospital bed! I wish you knew how much I fear hospital beds. Story for another day, my love.
Moments later, a female dakatri walks in and tells me to turn. I turn, bottoms up, face down. But before I know it, my pants are sliding down leaving my bottoms exposed! You know what? I grabbed her hands and turned about quickly to conceal my buttocks. Everything she had in her hands tumbled down onto the floor but I didn’t care, I didn’t come here for sex! Or what did she want to do with my beautiful sitting apparatus? So we remained there gazing at each other. But at least now you know I can’t let anyone under my clothes. Only you and I have the legal rights to access those areas. But that was three weeks ago. I am fine now.
Back to why I didn’t write to you earlier.
So as you’ve seen the heading, I didn’t sleep at my place last night, please note that that was not planned. At around 7 o’clock when we were inside Tumaini Supermarket doing a dinner shopping with one of my boys – Ombwayo, Essie calls and says she just acquired a woofer and wants me over. The woofer has to be launched by someone who understands his way about it and such reasons… you know. “I’ll be there in a tick,” I promise then hang up.
An hour later I’m lying on my back thinking about you when she calls again. Before I even pick it, I jump and change into my trousers mbiombio, then I pick my keys, rush to the door and slide my feet into canvas. The call ends when I’m just sliding the screen right to answer. Three seconds later, I’m still at the door struggling to lock the door and tighten my trouser at the same time, she video calls. Amid the confusion, my trousers slide down just after I pick her video call, in the struggle to lift them with the left arm that’s now still holding my keys, the phone screen too tilts and gives her a nice view of my lower body without trousers. “Aki wewe!” she smirks. “Hahaha I’m coming,” I chime in then quickly disconnect the call.
My love, I hope you are still following. The best part of this story is now coming. Why I didn’t write to you earlier. Fast forward.
Essie lives in a magnificent bedsitter but the room has no seat. You walk in and straight aim for her bed. Her sexy bed. Her bed reeks of strawberry. Wait. I’m telling you this but that’s not to make you feel jealous. Essie is gorgeous. Very. But you see, I cannot leave you for anybody else under the sun. But she’s hot. Just like you. I like her smile, but I love everything about you. So after I arrived and she gave me something to sip and kick out the cold. Then, step by step, I took her through how everything on that sub-woofer is to be handled. Then we connected and boom! The room danced into life with Sauti Sol Ft Nyashinski’s Sweet & Short.
We are both now seated on one side of her bed. A couple centimeters apart. Then she starts closing in and in. And do you know how she was dressed? Hehe, goodness! Wacha tu! Then still seated on her bed, when I’m trying to fix a USB cable into my stubborn Tecno W4 that’s now 7%, she kneels over, her beautiful front rubbing against my back, then in a soothing Godly voice, “I love you…..” she hums. My love, I think that’s the closest to heaven I’ve ever come… My phone refused to charge and later died, I asked for her laptop but it crashed immediately. I checked my wallet but never traced it in the night.
My love, that’s how I ended up sleeping in Essie’s bed, but it’s not like anything happened. As in we took turns sleeping. Occasionally, she’d sleep up while I was down, then she’d let me sleep up while she came down (on the floor).
Good bye for now my love. Please write to me oh! I miss you.
Be a sexy friend and whisper us to your friends using the social media icons below this post. Will you?