JUST ASKING! After Kwepicha, who is supposed to sleep in the wet spot?
?
We all know and agree that for security reasons, it’s the man who sleeps at the mugukiriro of a bed. That’s how it’s been since Adam chewed Eva back in Eden.
However, it may be Eva was a dry belle who never wet Adam’s grass bed and so they didn’t include who sleeps in the wet spot rule in the rules book. And for thousands of years the problem wasn’t solved mainly because the majority of women have been kind of dry.
However, chics nowadays, even the ones that come from well known dry tribes will make a brother swim for his life. For the past fifteen to twenty years, like half the women around the world; Karamojongs, Dinkas, Chinese and Arabs have become flood Queens, thanks to Baganda ssengas stealing Ankole’s formula that turns chics into flood queens.
The Banyankole haven’t filed a patent theft complaint because Tutsis have been fighting them over the same issue with the Tutsis saying the Banyankole stole their secret. Whatever the case, we need to review that overlooked issue. This I hope will be very easy since the majority of our lawmakers who are followers of this page are victims of this problem as well.
Evidence of my words being the MP wife’s floods video that nearly broke the internet a while back. So I am humbly requesting them to treat this as a matter of national or even global importance before bonkmates start fighting over the matter.
Imagine an Mp having to spend the night in a wet cold spot when he/she has important stuff to discuss on the floor of Parliament the following day. No wonder they are always dosing! Vision, the kind of sermon our bishop Ntagali gave after sleeping in wetness each time he spent the night with his reverend friend’s wife.
Yours truly have been silently suffering, but have finally come to you for advice and help. Mid last year, one of my baby mamas dragged me to the police for child neglect. The chic expected me to marry her, something I didn’t plan on. And like most of your sisters, wives or girlfriends on my bonk list, she got pregnant minus consulting me and had a baby who she now wants to use as a blackmailing tool.
The kid is six or seven but the chic almost asks for pamper money from me. Anyways, being a law abiding citizen, I went to the police, but the officer in – charge of the case wasn’t present. We were advised to come back another day. After baby mama had left, I asked one of the cops in the office for the number of the officer in-charge which I got and started communicating.
Now, being a busy hustler who is always on the move, I failed to report back four times. So baby mama would be at the police station with afande while yours truly would be in Mubende, Nakasongala or even Kasanda surveying land.
Since I wasn’t picking up baby mama’s calls due to her arrogance, we only communicated through afande Paulina’s phone. “Even send my airtime,” Afande Paulina told me on the second call. I sent airtime and cemented our friendship. It turned out afande Paulina is a lively person.
“Mr. Hyena – your wife still loves you. Why don’t you go home and service her. You know us women, we need attention so much,” she once advised. We would make a lot of jokes on the phone , something that didn’t go down well with the jealous baby mama – who very well knows how heart melting I am.
Now whenever I went to the police, baby mama would be out of town or her phone would be off. I charmed afande Paulina by taking her pizza and soda for lunch twice, something that endeared me not only to her, but her colleagues as well.
When we finally met at the station, Paulina was very soft towards me, something that annoyed baby mama to the core. She exploded, shouted and accused afande Paulina of having an affair with me. Now in my absence, she had told cops how I was a notorious womanizer who never passed by a woman. That I had a bonkmate on each street in Hoima and in every town and village countrywide. That I wasted my money on women instead of looking after my legion of children. Anyways, Paulina’s colleagues blasted her and told her to get a job and life. “I am going to abandon the child,” She scoffed leaving the station. “Go ahead!” A male officer dared her. At that point in time, little did I know baby mama had unknowingly made me a pass that would lead me into chewing afande Paulina.
Jokes were made about me and Paulina. As always, I gave them kintu kidogo and off to my business I went.The following two weeks, I made follow up calls and each time afande Paulina would be like “hello my husband. Your wife gave you to me.”
She even changed my name to Kabalega. We made jokes about it and she asked if I had chewed ko a Karamojong chic. Despite having seven Karamojong baby Mamas, my strategic answer was never. She told me to gather lots of cattle I would pay as dowry. Now apart from a sweet big voice, long fingers and nails plus a sense of humor, there wasn’t anything exceptional about Officer Paulina. From a distance, she looks like Queen Ifrica, not my first choice of chic. I stopped calling and over time, I kind of forgot about her until last January when I bumped into her in a Luweero bound taxi.
On seeing each other she asked me to board another taxi because she didn’t want trouble with my wife. We picked up on where we had left off. After formalities, she said “Kabalega, your wife is going to kill me.” Next she accused me of being on a womanizing mission prompting me to show her a land title of a piece of land I was going to inspect. Thereafter she told me how she had been transferred to a police station in one of the town councils that make Nakasongola.
That’s where she was going, but had a matter to attend to in Luweero hence her boarding a Luweero taxi. At Bombo, I bought us roasted snacks and sodas that we enjoyed along the way. “If I lived with you, I would grow fat,” She bubbled complimenting me for always buying her eats. Now it happened she was using an analog phone whilst mwah was on a smart. Towards Kalule town, I demanded to know why she didn’t have a smartphone. “Did you buy it for me and I refused to use it?” She asked only for me to ask what she does with her salary.
In response, she told me how she had lots of bills and so couldn’t afford such a luxury. “But if you – my husband – buy it for me, I will happily use it,” She said. “First produce for me a child and I will buy it for you,” I shot back only for her to counter my words saying “You buy it and I shall produce you twins.”As if possessed by a spending spirit, I agreed to buy her one. “But if you don’t produce my twins, the spirits of Bunyoro will strangle you.” She played along saying “yes, they should.” Once in Luweero town, I bought her an Infinix. This was gambling big time because I didn’t know she would give me ko.
You see, it’s easy to bonk idle and broke chics, but chics with well paying jobs are not easy to rush especially after gifting them.”Now madam when should I expect my twins?” I asked as we walked to see her sister who works at the district headquarters. The answer she gave almost gave me a heart attack. “Next time we accidentally meet in public transport, you shall have me.”I replied with stuff like “that’s not fair.” Only for her to counter ask if I expected to meet her that day. Little did I know the baganda saying of “zolaga omubi tezirwa kukya.” Would one day come to pass. At that point, I was like “she’s detoothed me!” But I couldn’t protest or insist on chewing her that evening. I put on a brave face, said things like “do you think it’s far.
Soon we shall meet and you will start giving me stories.” Only for her to vow she would never give me any excuses. “That day or night, we shall do things according to your liking and preference!” I counted my losses, went about my business. We chatted several times on WhatsApp, but that stopped as well when she went offline. Then this year, I and some friends had to travel to Soroti for Okurut’s wedding and it so happened, my DMC beemer was broken. We had to use public transport. We boarded a Karamoja bound bus. It was very hot and filled with a pergent of smells, not to mention aliens like far east languages. Apart from Lusoga, some Gisu and Kiswahili, all other eastern languages sound so out of this world to me. I regretted not hiring a private car as Sam had suggested. But as I fanned myself with a newspaper, a pregnant woman in a yellow kitengi carrying a small traveling bag entered the bus. “Project Muhoozi!” I thought. Then noticed, she looked like afande Pauline.Then several steps towards me, excitement filled me. “She’s the one.”
I thought about locking my eyes on her face. I grabbed my animal. My lips wore a big smile. My insides charmcated, enzymes boiled. Since she was searching for a seat, she was scanning every seat with her eyes and so she saw me. “Mr. Kabalega, this is not Hoima coach!” She teased to which I replied telling her, I was a karamojong and it was her that was lost because this wasn’t the bus to her village in Bunyoro, but rather it was going to my own village of Moroto.My companions were like “but Hyena is there anywhere they don’t know you!” After formalities, we managed to get a seat that was free. Afande Pauline told me how she had lost her phone and contacts. She then accused me of never calling her.On asking what I was doing on a bus to the land of the rising sun and I gave her the answer, she didn’t believe it but instead accused me of having wives I was going to see. “You of course,” Being my answer.”What happened to you?” I teased “the last time we met, you were not this fat. Have you become corrupt as well?” Pauline replied begging me not to go there that she would beat and kick me off the bus. I raised my hands in surrender.”God, thank you for finally delivering her to me.”
I loudly prayed so that she would hear. “We have an agreement to fulfill,” I went on. Pauline, who must have been thinking about our Luweero verbal agreement, replied asking “what agreement.” To which I was “to produce me twins next time we meet in public transport.””Here they are.” She caressed her belly laughing. But I was “if I remember well, agreement was, I would be given the opportunity to put in mine.” That made her laugh before asking where we wrote. “All agreements are usually written and signed. Where did we write and sign?” But I was “madam tonight you won’t survive me.” Only for her to ask if I could chew a belle that was pregnant for someone else. Despite having chewed many of them, I was “normally, I wouldn’t but since its you whom, I’ve loved since I first heard your tone, I will,” I bubbled.”Besides, there is always a first time for everything.” I went on then confessed how I had loved her from the very first time I heard her voice. Pauline replied with a stunned face.
“Really!” She exclaimed and poked me as she begged me not to deceive her.”I swear, I fell in love with your voice even before I saw you.” I confessed, prompting a second astonished face. She laughed and gave me a go ahead with your lying face. “How about my voice?” She inquired.”It’s sexy,” I said something someone else must have told her; nonetheless, being in grooming mode she was “Excuse me!” But I wasn’t done and she too wanted to hear more. It was written all over her face. “And when we met, I fell in love with your charisma, toes and fingers.”To that, she said “please stop before you kill me with laughter” Then asked “how about my fingers and toes?” The answer to which was “they’re very beautiful. Long and well arranged.” To that she pointed a finger at me saying “allo wewe.”
She then accused me of being a womanizer.”So all along you would come to the station to look at my fingers and nails.” Before I could answer that, the bus stopped at Namawojolo for refreshments. I gladly footed the bill as always. As we crossed the Nile, I suggested we spend the night in Soroti and she went the following day only for her to feed me stories of how she couldn’t do it whilst still pregnant plus she wasn’t ready for me.She worried I could damage the baby. “How?” I asked before asking if pregnant women don’t eat things.
“With the father of the pregnancy,” She replied then told me how new men, especially strong ones like mwah use a lot of strength which could harm the fetus.”I will be gentle,” I pleaded. “I will just brush its lips and pylons, I won’t sink in.” I lied only for her to be like “but hyena do you think am a naïve little chic?”However, what I didn’t know was she hadn’t been serviced in a very long time. When we met, she was ready to give ko any guy that asked. Her problem was she had been used by one of the big shots in police who upon impregnating her caused her transfer to remote Nakasongola. Had I known, I could have been like “give me or leave it!”So I pleaded throughout Busoga, but towards Soroti, afande Pauline said if I was really serious I had to go with her to Karamoja. “And you will only brush its lips no entering deal!” I wouldn’t be a Kabalega to say otherwise so I promised to be a gentleman. Nevertheless, part of me worried she wanted to take me to her family manyata, so I asked whether there are good lodges where we would spend the night. “No there ain’t,” She shot back.
But then said we would do with what was available. Despite not being madly in love with the pregnant police officer, curiosity suggested I go tour her theme park. 8pm found us in Moroto city. “Ooh I am very tired. I am going to sleep like a baby,” She bubbled yet she had slept half the journey. From the bus, we asked a boda rider for a classy but affordable lodge which the guy showed us. As soon as we settled in the self contained room afande Pauline closed her eyes like she was in agony prompting me to ask what the matter was. “Its ashaming,” She told me but since I wanted to bone, I asked if she wanted to use the toilet, but that wasn’t the problem. “I need to use a shaver,” She told me. Advantage was, we were close to a supermarket so I matched over, bought three shavers, a small sanitizer and refreshments.
Like other cities countrywide, Moroto has thigh vendors as well. Like three wanted to sell me what God didn’t sell them, but I declined on grounds of being broke. Back in the room, Pauline had reduced most of the clothes on grounds of it being very hot. We killed time over snacks I had brought after which we collapsed and slept. Of course, I had strength that could go a couple of rounds, but since she was pregnant and had claimed to be very tired that her whole body was hurting, I had to give her time to reboot and refresh.I snapped out of sleep around 2am. She too was awake. That she never sleeps that much when she’s not at her home. It was so hot prompting me to suggest we shower.
Then I insisted on us showering together to save water, something she tried resisting. “Even if you do what tonight I am going to see your nakedness as you will see mine.””Yes, but not right now,” She bubbled and was trembling as I helped her strip. “With me, there is no shyness,” I said. The poor pregnant police officer had no option but to let me have my way.
And so off to the shower we matched. The water was cold. We may have used twenty litre. “Clothes don’t do you just.” I said washing her booty prompting a “why?” Question the answer to which was “with clothes on, your booty doesn’t look this big.”From the shower, I spread her showcased my barbering expertise. I was accused of being very stubborn and at first she felt so tickled, but with time, she relaxed, allowing me to do my work. And while doing this, I noticed several things. First, was the animal being fat the kind baganda call kyebandula.
“Yummy, yummy.” I said earning a light slap that was accompanied with “don’t start, I will call it off.”Secondly the bat wings which were long like she was from Bugisu, Busoga or tribes known for elongation. Other Karamojong chics I had danced didn’t have them.But then I remembered she had earlier told me her attending a famous girls boarding school in Mbale. “She must have done it there.” Thirdly was her antenna starting to twitch. I teased it with my index finger. “What do you call this in Karamojong?” I asked only to be told “none of your business.” (Substitute with karamojong words.)
While doing that, I noticed some milky fluid flowing. Anyways, I continued with the task at hand only to see more and more milk flow. Meanwhile the antenna had erected but was still twitching.On my side, every muscle in my horny body had erected with the main one to near explosion. I cleared the shaved hair put my tongue to good use.It was while doing that, river Karamoja showed signs of bursting when like fifty milliliters spilled out on seeing which I installed an anti virus administered akembarara.I highly suspect that if I hadn’t come to the woman’s rescue, she would likely have exploded anytime soon.
Anyways, I got busy, hit all corners of the calabash as it gashed floods profusely. “She’s better than afande Tumusime,” I compared with another police woman. At some point I was forced to ask if she really was a Karamojong. “Eeh you thought its only your western women who have it,” She fired back. “My goodness! I’ve never seen or heard this.” I yapped soldiering on.From akembarara, I unleashed various techniques; back side cuddle, scissors to name but two which pregnant women find comfortable.Not once did I think of where I would sleep. Nor did she caution me, all she did was cheer and cheer me on. Am sure, I crushed her G-spot twice, but she said three times.
By the time we were done, like seventy percent of the bed was in floods. From another shower, afande Pauline found herself a dry patch to sleep and told me I had to sleep in my water. “My water! But if I remember correctly it came out of you.”Afande Pauline replied telling me, it wouldn’t have flowed if I hadn’t bathered it. Therefore, I had to sleep in it. It’s on that and other experiences that I ask you who is supposed to sleep in the wet spot after chewing yourselves?
I remain your truly Mr.Hyena.
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