RAW HUMOUR! Mr.Hyena Finally Swings Chairman’s Wife, Realizes Good Things Come to Those Who Wait
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If you are a regular reader of this popular column, you must be remembering my good days in Hoima. My shaft-ability index was beyond normal to the extent that I wouldn’t spare any Kandahar that crossed my way.
It wasn’t long before our area chairman’s wife fell into my ambush. Like any other man with ill intentions, I did everything that I could to divert this woman’s love from her husband. Yes she was happy, but when it came to accessing that part between her legs, she would play hard.
Her bullshitof “I am not interested in sex” and “I am still studying you” irritated me so much that I deserted her for some time. However, I had high hopes that she would one day fall into my trap. After around three months without calling or beeping her, I think she felt that she was missing me and my special presents.
So one Saturday, this woman whom I will call Vicky beeped me. I immediately called back and rudely asked her what the hell she needed from me.
“Hyena, why are you rude like that?” Vicky asked, to which I replied by condemning her for denying me what her mama gave her. “Okay, that will be for another time,” she said, before telling me that she had beeped because she wanted me to go to her home and fit her bulb and also install TV Africa on her new TV set.
Remember these were the days during which TV Africa was broadcasting the Premier League live so no one would dare miss any game. “Since when did I become a mechanic?” I asked before threatening that I wasn’t going since I didn’t know anything to do with TV.
She overly pleaded with me. “At least come and try your luck. Try and fail but never fail to try,” she pleaded, to which I obliged but on condition that I must taste her hairy meat.
I immediately went over only to find her in the sitting room watching Power Rangers. What amazed me was that she had bought a Black and White TV. “Can’t chairman afford a coloured TV?” I asked her. “Munange, the ka-man is just heartless. That is what he could afford moreover after pleading for over five months,” she replied as she moved towards the brand new black and white TV.
People, when Vicky walked towards the TV, the whopper shot up reminding me of the various times she had escaped my traps. On turning, Vicky was seated with her legs half-crossed. She was putting on a mini-skirt that exposed part of her big brown thighs. “If you are man enough, come for what you have been longing for,” Vicky said. “Are you serious?” I asked looking her in the eyes. “Can you?” she asked while shying away. Guys, if it were you what else could you do? I moved closer to where she was seated and knelt between her legs. She fell backwards as I licked her thighs teasingly.
“If you must lick, lick this,” she said pulling her mother’s union aside. On seeing her hairy meat with twinnies hanging out, my heart stopped pumping for a moment. I wondered whether it was a person’s Kandahar or a Gorilla’s. I have never chickened out when it comes to Kandahar so I closed my eyes, pulled out my tongue and began buffeting on Vicky’s salty thing. “Ohhhh, ahhhhh, ehhhh….yes good boy yes boy….deeper, deeper…ohhh I really needed it, “she moaned.
My tongue was now working restlessly licking her twinnies which were almost my tongue’s size. In the 8thminute, oils began flowing out towards the bums. A tremor swept through her body ending in the Kandahar. She stretched her legs as if she wanted to kick the wall and tightly held my head down the erogenous zone thereby finishing in my face. “Hyena feel how hot my cum is,” she bragged breathing heavily. I dropped the pants down, unleashed the whopper and insulated it. “Hyena what is that? All that to enter me? “She rapped out of fear. “But….but it is mine,” I said. “It is not that big. The moment it gets in, it will reduce,” I added. I feared that she may change her mind but she fell back and told me be careful.
At a snail’s pace, I slotted in my whopper. “Ahhh, haaaa Hyena, ohhhh,” she moaned.by this time, almost all the insulated rod was already in the bottomless pit, jazz style. I pulled out and turned her for jazz style. Smaller kandahars usually make those sexual noises but this one didn’t let out any noise. After twelve minutes of non-stop swinging, thick stuff gashed out of her. At first, I thought it was the usual sweat that is caused by the force that the whopper exerts on the Kandahar but more stuff gashed out in full swing. It amounted to about 500ml. “Thanks madam for the El-nino,” I said. It is not el-nino, I think I am starting my P’s,” she stunned me.
Until then, I remain Yours Truly, The Mighty Hyena.
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