Over the years, my office has known me as the ‘intern guy’. I screw all of them; though lately BINGWA been on a mend. See, its not good for such reputation to spread outward till it threatens to become legal tender. Currency. People gonna trade on my reputation.
One time I had this intern who’s basically wasting her time in school. She doing a general course sif she just wanna pass through school like its a conveyor belt? Ok, sijui. At first she don’t appeal to my groin; gal shagz mondoish n shemas like a broken exhaust-pipe car. But she comes how my eyes like them; heavy, short, wide hips n a generous butt. The last bit right there, I don’t screw butts like y’all be yapping.
An out of town training program, week long comes up. The bulb lights. Students like touring; she gonna be game before the whistle. I easily convince her to come with me, but the rest of the office shouldn’t know.
We arrive separately and find a place far from other colleagues.
Later on we do the adults thing. I am turned off.
Pussy like a rotting fish! I am disappointed! Whose pussy still smells in 2015? Na Uhuru ni president? Na thika superhighway iliisha? Na standard gauge yote?
Now I was stuck with a fish vendor for a whole week n am so turned off, I could be gayer than @Gay . The rest of the lays we had were alcohol assisted and sub-optimal to the 0.01 confidence level.
2 days into it I quit. I convince her that I won’t continue with the training gotta rush home. She actually bids me farewell as I board the bus. I alight in the next town and return to a different lodgo. Happy that nimeponea, I return to my colleagues lodgo.
Yesterday night:
I call the chic again. Little chit chat. Everyone deserves second chances. She comes to my house. No smell.
It’s one of the sweetest pussy I have hit in a long while.
Nampandilia dry fry; come what may. Mwanamume ni risk, kuogopa risk na kuwank wachia @kush yule mnono.