RAW HUMOUR! Hyena gets stuck in NGO boss
The Might Mr Hyena
I have used good emotional therapy to cure hardcore Lesbos, the latest being a secretary at a local NGO. As you may have noticed, the habit of girl-on-girl is increasing these days and it is the reason why many brothers can’t find beautiful belles to marry. In fact these days when I see two belles living together, part of me usually becomes suspicious.
About three years ago, I became friends with Marion through a mutual friend. I fell in love at first sight and so begged my then sister-in-law, our mutual friend, to give me a pass, only for my sister-in-law to tell me not to waste my time. “She’s into fellow girls,” Sister- in-law said, shocking me. I spent some time digesting that, with most of me thinking that Sister-in-law was pulling my leg. Not believing it, I insisted on my Sister-in-law passing over my proposal to Marion.
When we next met, Sister-in-law told me of how Marion had said no. “Did you tell her how much I love her and that I’m ready to marry her etc?” I asked. Not satisfied by Sister-in-law’s explanation, I begged her to set up a lunch date with Marion, during which I would personally launch my manifesto. The lunch date happened and after a five course meal , I told Marion how I had fallen in love at first sight and was humbly requesting to be her Adam and her my Eve.
In response, Marion told me of how I was a sweet guy whom a lot of belles were dying to have, but that for her she was already taken.
To that, I told Marion I was ready to share until I fully conquered her heart, prompting her to say “I’m not into men!” And I was like “Neither I’m I, I am still a boy. Don’t get fooled by the beard which my stepmother bewitched me with.”
That made them laugh their lungs out. Marion accused me of being very funny, then went on to beg me to accept her declining my proposal. From that time I started bumping into Marion every now and then. We would even chat via social media. During that time, Marion added me onto several groups within her circles, and used to send me several kinky stuff on Facebook and WhatsApp.
She usually asked for my opinion and knowing her orientation, I was always careful with answers. I would blame her lack of appetite for men on weak boyfriends who couldn’t satisfy their babes. One time Marion confessed during a WhatsApp chat to me of how she was only into babes. I pretended not to believe so I replied, “Twala eli! You are just mean, not wanting to give me ko.” Marion tried to assure me but I played dumb, insisting that God couldn’t let a hot babe like her to service fellow babes.
But she insisted that there were several babes yearning for me. “I Sheebah, my favorite musician, one of them?” I asked and Marion was like “Maybe…. I don’t know.” Then I told her that “But still you can give me ko naawe…” I went on to lament how I would never have peace until she gave me ko. Marion instead told me of how she was different from other babes, including my wife. “First of all, women are different, secondly there are ingredients in you that other women don’t have,” I bubbled, prompting Marion to respond with laughter.
As expected, Marion asked what ingredients she had that other babes didn’t have. I replied that “My feelings for you are in overdose. You are more like my holy grail.” “Hyena leave me alone. I am not into men,” Marion replied, before switching off her WhatsApp, thinking she would escape her womanly destiny.
One night I went out with hopes of meeting a stranger for a chow with no strings attached, only to bump into Marion with her partner, who was a beautiful Itesot chic. Next time we got to chat, I asked who taught her those habits of being into girls, only for her to reply that all her friends were like that. “I’m naturally like that,” she said, before going on to tell me of how she started during her Senior Five days. That she had tried two boyfriends but didn’t get the required results. “I was very cold towards guys yet very warm towards babes; chics usually made me so happy,” she said.
That one time she confided in a friend who instead initiated her into the girl-on-girl stuff. “Those two guys you tried didn’t know how to amend your Constitution, that’s all, there is no way your stuff can be better than the real thing!” I assured her, before asking her for a friendly match to prove my point. There must be magic with artificial Joysticks because Marion told me of how they were better than real men. “They get the job well done, unlike you men who go halfway,” Marion confidently said.
Being curious, I asked Marion if there were husbands and wives amongst them. “In some affairs,” was her response. On asking if she was the wife, Marion replied telling me of how she was the hubby.
I met Marion again with her partner on another occasion and after pleading a lot to see her in vain, she decided to prove to me her orientation by lip-hugging her babe. That would have been enough for most men to give up, but I am not the kind. As a matter of fact, my friendship with Marion grew stronger. Contrary to popular myth that people of Marion’s habits are usually rich, many of them are broke and struggling just like you and me; Marion was no exception. Every now and then she would ask me for financial support.
One day she called me, saying that she had a big problem which needed money. “But you have not returned the 100k I gave you two months back,” I said, trying to avoid giving Marion more money. Marion apologized for the delay, before saying that things were bad for her. Apparently, Microfinance was about to confiscate her hard-earned property and so she needed me to help her with a loan of two million, which she would refund ASAP.
“Hyena I know it’s a lot of dime but I swear and promise to pay it back,” Marion pleaded. In reply, I told Marion of how I only gave loans to people with collateral security. “Naawe Hyena…please help me,” Marion went on to plead. Sensing that Marion wouldn’t understand my explanations, I decided to play jerk and get out of it. “The only way I will give you that much without security is if you accept to spend a night with me,” I said. As expected, Marion replied rapping about how I should get serious and I was like “Serious like a heart attack?” Out of anger, Marion accused me of being a stupid addict, before breaking the line. “Ok, go get the dime from your wicked girls!” I silently said to myself. “So all along you see me as an object to be used?’ Marion WhatsApped a few minutes later. I didn’t respond to that and the following 20 messages. Frustrated, Marion had no option but to call again.
Suspecting she was going to give me another rap, I ignored the calls until she texted “Ok…..I agree…. But will you use CDs?” Upon reading the message I was so excited. I wrote back that “That is my love….whenever you are ready.”
Come 8pm, I checked into the Big Brother room, switched on cameras and gave Marion a phone call. Close to 9pm, Marion called, informing me of her arrival in Kasubi and asking where she would find me. I directed her to where I was and told her to come along with some food. Marion brought Pizza, which we enjoyed privately. Marion wasn’t confident enough to take a bath with me, prompting me to diss her into submission.
“You just want to see my ugly figure,” Marion bubbled, as I helped her get into the shower. She went on to accuse me of being very stubborn as we showered. From the bathroom, we got down to serious business. However, as expected, Marion didn’t respond well in the beginning, as if she didn’t want any Constitutional Amendment. But by the time we amended Article 102K, she had already gotten used. To fully enjoy the amendment, I switched on Enrique Iglesias’ love songs but Marion responded by raining slaps on me and ordering me to switch it off, saying she didn’t like it.
However, with time, Marion enjoyed the Constitutional amendment so much that she allowed me to amend other articles. Actually, she forgot her habits of being into fellow babes; she gave me all her best. After that, Marion backed me to get off her Constitution, saying I had amended enough articles. But no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t free myself. Being an African, Marion started bubbling off how my wife’s juju had made us get stuck together. She accused me of being too heavy and hot, so I rolled and switched places, putting her up.
We tried all possible ways to free ourselves but things were firmly held, prompting me to ask if she had super glue. It took an hour for the muscles to relax and free each other, by which time we were very exhausted. When we finally parted, Marion rejected all my other advances, saying we would get stuck again. But she said that “I had a nice time. I think I have been missing a lot. We shall try it another time. But meanwhile, can you give me the money? By then it was morning; so I handed her the money and she thanked me so much, before we parted ways.
Later when we met again, Marion told me of how she was carrying a Baby Hyena, but I’ll tell you about that another day. Till then, I remain yours truly, Mr. Hyena. (DO YOU HAVE A HOT STORY (CHEATERS, DIVORCE, VIDEOS, CORRUPTION, LAND WRANGLES, EXPOSES …ETAL) YOU WOULD LIKE US TO PUBLISH? CALL/TEXT/WHATSAPP 0777959024 OR EMAIL redpeppertips@gmail.com)
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