Of vibrators, sex shop and a mature woman

I was only 24 at the time, straight out of campus. I was working in this mental institution where I met an old woman who must have been 13 years older than me.

We were the only Kenyans working in a place where the population was predominantly white people. I don’t even know how I and this Kenyan woman landed a job there. But from what I gathered, this woman had her own recruitment agency, and was only working here as a side hustle.

She had an asshole for a boyfriend. Her personal life was fucked up to the core, seeing that this asshole had tidied up her bank account, then cheated on her and even treated her like shit, so to speak.

Since we had a matching timetable at the institution, we quickly got friendly to each other, and that meant spending time together during breaks.

Her openness seemed normal to me at first. However, as time went by, it began to bother me as to why she was telling me everything about her personal life, especially at a time when I was enjoying the moment of my life. I was banging 3 nurses in the institution at that time, and she was aware of this fact.

The thing is, her sob stories came at a time when I wished to chat with other girls of my age, and so I got pissed off each time she showed up.

It didn’t occur to me; not until she told me one day that she was thinking about me while taking a bath in the shower the previous night, and that she was not sure how I was going to take it had she phoned me about it.

Meanwhile, I got into a sexual relationship with another loaded woman who could fly me all over the continent of Australia and even offered to get me a house in Lavington, Nairobi. But due to her rather commanding nature, I had to ditch the offer.

On the other hand, she had her own apartment in a plush suburb here in Nairobi. What I mean is that she lived in one of those quiet and tree-populated areas of the city, where only the rich and mighty reside. She always handed me her house keys, insisting that I should move to her place and let go my own place. That is why I could not concur with her due to her controlling nature. I am not a hi-goat to move in with a woman.

So on this particular day, I decided to take her to a sex shop in Nairobi, and it was just out of the blues. This decision was motivated by the fact that she was a bedroom freak, plus I knew her fantasies quite well. I was cock sure that she had never visited a sex shop or used a sex toy before.

We headed to a dingy backstreet shop which obviously was stocked with all sorts of sex toys from Asia. I suppose they came from Asia because most sex toys that are imported to Kenya mostly come from China.

Anyways, from the moment we walked into the doors of this shop, we felt like we were sinning. I mean, there was dark lighting, and there were all kinds of adult stuff being offered for sale. Dildos and massage oils seemed to populate the shelves more than any other sex toy. And then there was this kind of silence that reigned in the atmosphere.

This shop had enough people, but they all seemed to mind their own Business. People look at you but they never talk to you or anyone else. In fact, everyone looked like they couldn’t locate what they had gone to buy, yet they were afraid to ask.

Now we are on the opposite side of the shop, where they stock dildos or sex vibrators in numbers. But guess what? I can see our supervisor!! Meanwhile, my new ”girlfriend” is giggling like a piglet and clutching my other hand like a little girl.

”Supervisor” seems to be occupied with sorting out a couple of Black Monster Cocks. But with a sweeping glance around the sex shop and of course his hawk-eyed eyeballs, our eyes meet, and just like that, he catches me in the most weird of places in Nairobi. I mean, Adult shops which sell Adam and Eve products are a taboo by all standards here in Africa, don’t you agree?

I, of course, pretend not to have seen him, and I proceed to keep quiet about the matter so that my ”girlfriend” will not know about it.

This guy samples a few black monster cocks and then makes his way towards a client who has this “seen it all before” attitude written all over his face.

For a long time, I had carried with me this imagination that my supervisor was a racist. However, judging by his act of holding a Black Monster Cock,  I was convinced otherwise. I understood that his job was to supervise black people, and that he had nothing against black skin.

In due time, my woman settled on a pink Rabbit vibrator, and so we queued for the checkout point. There were two other people ahead of us in the queue, and each one of them were clutching a Black Monster Cock. It was the product of the month by the way, which explains the massive discount that the sex shop was offering on that particular item.

To cut the long story short, we sneaked out of the premises and headed into the car. She was experiencing such an intense adrenaline rush that she couldn’t wait but to unpack the pink rabbit vibrator and start it once the batteries were inserted. I remember her asking me to pack ”our” car in the direction facing the fence of the parking lot.

The passenger seat was reclined, and the pink rabbit vibrator came to life! What a ”girlfriend”? She left fond memories with me.

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