Please stop loving me, part 1

I met the girl of my dreams in a bar.
That is not how great love stories start, well, apart from Romeo and Juliet who met at a party but I digress.
I was not meant to be in Langata that night but I was. After a dowry ceremony in Kiserian, one sly bastard suggested we go to his local so he could crawl home quickly.
She was not meant to be there that night but she was. Her friend’s sponsor was generous and had offered to entertain the two. The sly old man didn’t have much conversation so left them to entertain each other and then simply enjoyed the harvest.
I never pick up girls in bars but something about her drew me in. To me, she had a lost innocence, like a flower blooming in a minefield. To her, I was the hero who saved her from the sponsor’s randy friend. I liked her open mind and she liked my trustworthy face.
We were both wrong.
Like a gentleman, I dropped her outside her hostel without demanding payment and she gave me her number without demanding money. I promised to call her the next day.
As I drove home, I planned how I would play this - hit it a few times until she demanded a relationship and then run fast and far.
When I reached home, my happy demeanour changed. The love of my life was on the sofa, glued to her phone. The fruits of our love, now teenagers, aped her, albeit with headphones on. I sat on the sofa. As if a leper had approached, they all stood and left for their rooms. I sat and thought of Ann. My little bar friend.
Like a teenager, I puzzled about the best time to call her. Finally, I sent her a text, inviting her for dinner. She replied immediately. Yes. We met down a little side street in a restaurant where I introduced her to prawns and souffles and wine. Like a teenager, she cooed over everything.
She looked at me with respect and adoration I was denied at home. My chest puffed out and my voice deepened. Afterwards, I dropped her at the same place. This time, she lingered in the car and we talked. I reached over and kissed her gently. She left and called me five minutes later. She wished I had stayed longer.
At home, everyone was glued to their phone. I pulled out mine and joined in. We socialised externally and ignored each other internally. Eventually, one by one we went to bed.
I met her again after a few days. This time, the conversation turned personal. She told me how her Dad died when she was young. I told her how my love died while my children were young. We found common ground. Two people looking for love. No one mentioned the problem - we were both looking in the wrong place.
When I dropped her this time, she crossed over and sat on my lap. We kissed and caressed and she touched my face gently. We both knew it was time to fix a new boundary.
At home, I joined the digital brigade. We planned a getaway for the end of the month. Her from her hostel life, me from my hostile life. I spent hours searching for the perfect spot. I dreamed of her.
Two agonising weeks passed. We talked daily and sent hundreds of messages. At home, I advised of my company’s team building weekend away. My team at home didn’t care. The building we lived in was already built. Strangely, I wished my wife was jealous or even a bit curious. Her indifference angered me, made me yearn for Ann.
On Friday I left for work with my bag packed. Out of guilt I left more money than was necessary, trying to balance what I would spend outside. This time there were smiles all round. The mice were free.
The hours dragged at work. Finally, it was three. My boss let me go early. He understood i had to take my family to the village and wanted to avoid traffic. I covered the distance to the hostel in Ngara in minutes. She was waiting with her bag too. Like teenage lovers, we giggled and held hands as I drove to Naivasha. We reached the hotel perched atop a cliff and she gasped in joy. Our room was a huge tent on a raised wooden platform with an en suite shower.
We dropped our bags and headed to Naivasha town to eat. I felt like a new man. After the meal, we passed by a supermarket and bought a bottle of vodka. Liquid courage. In the car, I pretended I forgot disposable cups and went back and bought condoms and cups.
In the tent, we sat close and sipped vodka. Eventually, it loosened our inhibitions and we started making out. Slowly our clothes came off. Soon, we were naked. I touched her below until she begged me for more. I sheathed up and gave her more.
We made crazy, sweaty, fun love until near morning. Eventually, she put her head on my chest and listened to my heart beat.
I thought she was asleep until she mumbled something that sounded so innocent but would change us both forever.
Aki babe I love how crazy we have been.

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This is the primary reason China and the rest of the world in general are 100 years ahead of Africa.

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Awesome read, BT …
I am looking forward to the second part.

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Inaleta mahanjam?

nice hekaya, i can relate to that especially with that part where" at home everyones glued to their smartphones , where we socialised externally and ingored each other internally".

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Apana.

True.
Case in point, it’s 6 a. m on a Saturday morning and I am here.:mad::mad::smiley:

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very true dear, same:D:D

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:D:D:D:D:D
Ferked up. I realised that awhile back and I had to cut down my online hours.

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Great read

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as for , though its just an excuse, my mother-in- law has come to visit, soo …

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:D:D:D:D:D:D
A few years back we used to have a creaky bed. When in laws spent the night we used to put the duvet on the floor and do our business there. :oops::oops: and I had to bury my face on the pillow to stifle my moans.:D:D:D:D

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The visits dont take long, may be a night or two. Why dont you abstain for a night or two? Or you become sexier when visitors are around?

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:eek::eek::eek:
My in-laws visit for a week or two. :D:D:D

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Nice read, a cross between a poem and a story.

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Fisked.
:D:D

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Wonderful read. Found myself in the same basket and we were only two in the same roof. It sucks at some point.

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:D:D:D

Great read