So, horny dudes at the airport have been abusing their powers by blackmailing travelers into letting them bone them and even taking their money! Heartless bunch. Right? Well, before we judge, remember what the holy book says about man eating from where he worketh.
Those things have been happening for years, from LC one all the way to the big offices. Most women just keep quiet, but if they opened their mouths and started telling, you would be shocked. I am sure you know a couple of predators and prey in this regard.
Imagine your girlfriend or wife that has been abroad working returning. You expect to eat her greave only for the stranger at the airport to eat your things for free. That hurts. But that’s life mwatu.
I too, have taken advantage of your sisters, wives or friends so that I would help them in one way or the other. The guys at the airport are even kind because all they do is dance plus take money unlike me who insists on blowjobs, boning and even taking the money.
One of my newest victims being Monica, an American height peasant who leased five acres from me to grow maize and beans. If you’re a regular in villages, you must have noticed how land for crop farming is becoming scarce by the day, so when a peasant gets land to work they value it more than gold.
Three years ago, Kiiza approached and begged me to let him rent some land I wasn’t using. My plan had been to fence the area into a padlock to graze my animals. But Kiiza begged me to allow them to use it for just two seasons.
We agreed that each season, that’s a period of six months, they would pay 200k for each acre meaning he would give me one million shillings every season.
He paid me 500k right away and promised to bring the rest the following day. (Let me feel sorry for land title holders aka abattaka whose tenants owning big bibanja pay a mere 30k for busulu each year ebyo nsanga biyise. No wonder land grabbing is still strong.)
That said, the next morning, Kiiza’s wife Monica brought me the balance and told me she would be in-charge of the garden. We agreed she would only grow seasonal crops like maize, groundnuts and beans. You see, some of the peasants break agreements by planting cassava and sweet potatoes which take a long time.
Now ever since I moved to this area, I’ve had thoughts about Monica. I hope you know my lust for tall slender chics. Besides being both, she even has a calm voice, an innocent face looking at her you can think she doesn’t know things like doggie style.
They worked peacefully and before I knew it they were harvesting beans which was soon followed by maize and the season was finished. Monica paid for the next season, I used that money to steal Mrs. Katongole.
After that season, Monica begged me to give her another year. My pleas of wanting to expand my padlocks were met by “just one more year.”Monica being one of those chics that’s hard to say no to, I agreed.
But time flies so fast. In no time, the year was ending and she still wanted to use the garden. When she met me seated alone in my DMC in the center of our ka – town, she asked if I would let her use the place once again to which I replied asking what our last agreement was.
“I know the agreement but last season failed and even this one isn’t good…please help me once again,” She begged. Mind you, she was on her knees. I begged her not to look at me like that because she would melt my heart.
“Please just one year is all I beg of,” She begged giggling. “You woman, I don’t know how I will free myself from you! But I am going to set a tough condition that will make you run so far away from me.”
On hearing that, Monica said she was ready for all terms and conditions. “That’s good. Well, if you want me to give you another season, give me a blowjob!”
“Yesu!” She exclaimed and held her head. “Eeh do that for me and I will grant your request.” In response, Monica excused herself and continued on to her destination. I went about my normal business.
But days later, she met me at Tofa’s shop and asked to have a word with me. She suggested paying 250k for each acre. Only for me to stand my ground.
She must have spent the rest of the day and probably most of the night digesting my proposal. She couldn’t discuss it with her hubby, so it ate her alone. She must have worried that if she didn’t swing into action swiftly someone else was going to take her fertile garden.
My proposal wasn’t up for debate with her talkative husband. If she confided in him, he would run to tell the whole village. Besides being talkative he was unpredictable, if she told him my proposal; he could jealously panic and drop the garden. So she wrestled with the proposal alone.
Mind you, it wasn’t something she could even share with her best friend. Chics in our area gossip a lot.
Next day, she found me at Tofa’s shop again and begged to talk privately. She started by asking if I had considered her proposal of paying 250k to which I was “I thought you came to say come let’s go do what you suggested.”
“But Atwooki, I told you, I can’t do that.” And I was “well, it’s that or no deal.” Then she suggested a hand job “okay, how about I shake it. That I can do.” On hearing that, I was “American height I know what I want.” Prompting a “why do you want that?” Question.
“You have lovely lips,” was my answer which triggered laughter that was followed by “lovely lips.” She touched them then asked what others had. “Ugly ones. I never knew. Thank you.”
She spent a moment deceiving me how she had never even done it to her hubby. That doing it can even make her throw up. In response, I told her, I was clean and circumcised.
Next she worried she may do it then I go gossiping. “I am an adult, have you ever heard me gossiping?” I asked her “never, but what if I agree and you dupe me.” She bubbled to which I replied assuring her, I was a gentleman who fulfills my pledges.
“Okay, I agree.” She said looking down.”You’re finished!” I silently rejoiced.”Ready now? We go to your maize garden?” I excitedly teased making her laugh “in the maize! No! Hmm! Do I look like a young girl.”She bubbled before saying it had to be in the city because she couldn’t risk doing such a thing in the village where people could see us.
“When?” I asked. It had to be fast before she got back into her senses or even another garden. “When are you going back to Kampala?” She asked the answer to which was “the day after tomorrow or Saturday.”
“Let’s do it on Saturday.” Almost made me scream. “Thank you,” I said. Then asked what time. “By 11am, I will be in town. Now it’s up to you,” she told me prompting a “do you have my numbers?”
“No.” She answered. I sent her airtime that way, we both got each other’s number and her hubby couldn’t even raise eyebrows. I deceived her that I was going to use that window of time to look for a nice cozy place worthy of a lady like her. With that, we parted.
I will let you imagine the kink positions she adjusted plus twisted herself into as she thoroughly shaved including hard to reach areas of her forbidden zone. As for me, I didn’t sleep and thought of her a lot. I wished the day after tomorrow had been tomorrow.
Come the agreed day, I left the village at 10am and drove slowly making stops at friends and family arriving in the city close to midday.
On calling, she was at boma, the main hospital checking on her sick sister. “I will call you right back,” she politely told me. After the kiboozi with her relatives, she left the hospital then called. I told her to get a boda that would bring her to a hotel.
“When you enter the hotel, tell them to bring you to room one hundred fifty eight.” I said.”You said one hundred fifty eight?” She asked to be sure.
I salute the inventors of boda bodas and mobile phones as well as lodge owners and operators because those gadgets gave simplified adultery to levels our forefathers never imagined. In a blink of an eye, Monica whom I nicknamed American height was brought to the door.
If any of your sisters, girlfriends, be it your wife ever tells you, I didn’t feed her before boning her, just know there was merely no food where we were. Since childhood, I’ve been told how food unlocks people.
Anyways, we sent for food and drinks. I could see, she was nervous and somehow trembling she couldn’t look at me either. So I decided to make her comfortable by giving a tour of the luxurious hotel. “That’s the church, right?” She pointed at a building in the far distance. You see, we were on the fourth floor of a hotel that is situated on a hill.
“But what if an earthquake comes now?” She asked and I was “we die together and go to Paradise and I enjoy you forever.” Only for Monica to say “not hell?” She then asked if I expected to go to heaven. “Why not?” I asked, making her laugh.
“Atwooki, you have so many crimes, you will never be allowed into heaven!” Monica yapped and before I could challenge her to name any of my crimes, she was “as you’ve boned people’s wives and daughters.”
“But even God boned Joseph’s Mary. How then will the angels throw me into hell when their boss committed the same crime?”
After munching our snacks, I changed into Adam’s suit “how do I look?” I asked to spread my arms, but Monica was too shy to look at me. She looked the other way as she giggled. I forced her to dance. “Reserve your shyness for your husband,” I said, twisting her around.
I pinned her on a wall and locked our lips into a passionate kiss during which she trembled like she had high fever. I scanned her figure, checked her small booties and worn out boobs. She must have expected me to go for her animal, but I didn’t.
Instead, I took a shower, dried and spread myself on the bed and closed my eyes saying “I am all yours now.” But Monica had chickened, my serpent looked so huge yet her hubby was way smaller. “Am going,” She said standing up prompting me to ask “why?” The answer to which was “your G-thing is so huge.”
“So huge!” I murmured. “Yes, I can’t manage it.” She bubbled, prompting me to sit upright. I spent the following five minutes pleading and explaining how it wasn’t as huge and it looked and that I would be very gentle. “Hmm! Do you think I am naive?” Monica bubbled before telling me how my thing could kill her or even damage her goodies.
“But I thought we only came for a lollipop.” I poked her only to be slapped. Without much ado, Monica, Kiiza’s wife, coiled to do what she wouldn’t normally have done and it was clear to me she wasn’t in love, but rather doing it to save her working space.
“Don’t hold my head and don’t fire in my mouth,” She politely ordered, prompting me to ask why “because I said so,” she softly answered.
“Eeh see how huge the GU-thing is!” She bubbled, shaking it. Then asked why it was gigantic. I counter asked why she was tall like a giraffe.”Because I eat well,” She answered. “Well, that makes the two of us.”
“I hope this doesn’t get me cancer and your wife’s STDs,” she said a second before swallowing the animal.
There is no greater achievement for a man like boning a priced chic. All guys in the village had assured me – Monica was mean, she had never given ko anyone yet her hubby boned their wives and sisters.
Such a chic that had eluded all womanizers in the sub county to lollipop me, not only made me feel incredible, but I felt invincible too. I felt the way Putin would have felt had he conquered Ukraine.
I cheered my prey by making erotic vocals and faces.
Despite claiming to have never lollipopped ko before, Monica used the expertise of professionals in the art. I won’t go into details because you know what I mean.
Around the ninteth minute after she got busy, I felt a somatic sensation brewing throughout my body. I held her head fired in her mouth about five million would be human beings.”Ooh my goodness!”
Upon freeing her head, Monica spat and made a disgusted face. “I told you not to fire in my mouth!” She complained. But like my other victims, I was “I couldn’t help it. You’re so sweet.”
Next she reached for her bag out of which she handed over a bundle of money saying “there is your money.” She got up to leave. I grabbed her hand saying “I am not done with you yet madam.”
“Not done with me yet! Haven’t I done what you wanted?” She played girlish and pretended not to know what I was after. Looking her straight in the eyes, I begged her to give me ko. “Give you ko on what?” She asked. And I was “the forbidden fruit.”
She spent about ten minutes resisting, but finally gave in and I danced her to pulp. Before and after, I’ve corruptly boned chics to help them in one way or the other. And I know many government officials doing the same so what’s been happening at the airport didn’t catch me by surprise.
As a matter of national importance, male victims should come out too or else, I will release the information.
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