Mr. 2 ½

Hands down my favourite thing about blogging in 2019 was writing Sex And The City posts. I put up 10 SATC posts last year:

1. 1. B Is For BDE
   2. The Hunt
   3. D Is For Dickmatized which was also my most read post of 2019.
   4. E Is For Eye Fucking
   5. A Case For Sex Toys
   6. Let’s Talk Morning Sex
   7. Let’s Talk Birthday Sex
   8. X Is For XXX, a personal favourite with anonymous contributions from Nairobi ghels on the craziest places they have had sex as well as the craziest things they have done during sex.
   9. Everyone’s favourite Sasa Hizi Ni Nini
   10. Y Is For (the) Year Of The Heaux

This was my forever mood writing SATC last year because it was always a good time:

And I know y’all had as much fun reading the posts as I had writing them because reader views and engagements for SATC are always wayyy higher than any of my other categories. Like, way way way higher. For example my last SATC post Let’s Talk Masturbation, which I put up on the first day of Leo season, garnered more views in four days than the previous four posts before it combined!

But alas all good things must come to an end. I am now in a relationship with the most incredible man, and while I write about our FUEGO sex life every now and then – errrm, Fire Flames anyone – I prefer to keep it on the DL because my boyfriend is an extremely private person.

Today’s post is the final SATC story from 2019 that I have been meaning to write for some time now. My game plan for 2019 was to be swimming in so much dick such that when I am ready to settle down from 2020 onwards, I will have gotten all Thotiana traces out of my system. Instead I ended up dealing with one malenge after another, each one worse than the one before him. I may not have swam in so much dick, but I did get all Thotiana traces out of my system because I learnt firsthand just how deeply disappointing Nairobi men can be. Now I am able to fully understand and appreciate just how incredibly rare men like my boyfriend are, because if there is one thing that 2019 taught me is that good guys in Nairobi are few and far between.

But, I digress.

In Y Is For (the) Year Of The Heaux I wrote:

Instead of living my best thot life, I have had sex 2 ½ times in Q1, 0 times in Q2, 5/6 times in Q3 and 0 times so far in Q4. I am aware that the 2 ½ times for Q1 is quite intriguing and I cannot wait to tell that story next year.

Well next year is here now. Lol. I was going to put this post up on August 22^nd for my two year blogiversary but Mr. 2 ½ is a malenge AF and does not deserve to be featured on a day as dope as my blogiversary. So here we are.

I met Mr. 2 ½ at the beginning of 2019 and it was lust at first sight on both sides. In no time we had exchanged numbers and were chatting sexting up a storm and because the game plan for 2019 was to be swimming in dick, after about two weeks of sexting it was time for sexing.

One Monday evening at the tail end of January we were having drinks and smoking up with mutual friends acquaintances when we decided to move the party elsewhere just the two of us. We went to a local bar not far from where we were kicking it with the group and found a dark, secluded corner to do bad manners. And when I say bad manners I mean nibbling-on-my-nips-in-public typa bad manners. We just had one drink each before the nyegez took over and I called an Uber to take us to my place since it was closer.

The sex was good, just like I thought it would be, and so we had sex again the following week on his birthday and this time around he ate my ass. Bottom feeders (thanks be to Megan Thee Stallion for that epic term) for the win aki.

The next time we met up was on February 20^th, aka the bad gal’s birthday. I woke up madd ready for the day:

The something reckless I wore was a leopard print bodycon dress and six inch fuck me heels and the something reckless I wanted to do was John Doe. I got home from work that evening, put on a playlist with only the bad gal’s music and smoked a blunt (hellooo, Rihanna’s birthday!) as I waited for him to come through.

He came through, we smoked up together, did some shots, and then it was time for some bad gal inspired fucking. We started by making out on the couch and when I was sufficiently turned on I squatted, still in my leopard print bodycon dress and six inch fuck me heels, to give him some head. And let me tell you I gave him the head of his life! I mean, Rihanna was playing in the background so I was feeling it and feeling myself as well. Just as he was about to cum he decided that he would rather cum inside me so we switched venues and went to the bedroom.

I kept my leopard print bodycon dress and six inch fuck me heels on, and he put on a condom and entered me.

Thrust! Thrust! Thrust!

Me to me: OMG this feels so good. There is NOTHING like that first thrust aki.

…

Me to me: Hmmm, I can’t really feel him inside me. Am I really that wet?

…

Me to me: Ai. No. What is not happening here?!

Guise! The malenge had lost his hard on and was just there thrusting away like nothing had happened. The audacity! And on the bad gal’s birthday yawa! Typically I would be too embarrassed to say anything but on that day … let’s just say the Rihanna in me came out:

Me: Wait wait wait! What the fuck is going on here?

Him: As in?

Me: What do you mean as in? How and why are you thrusting away with some limp dick?

Him: Fuuuuuccccckkkkk!!!!! Fuck fuck fuck!!!!!!!

He tried to act all embarrassed, saying how it had never happened to him before, blah blah blah, but I was not having it! I told him to get the fuck out of my house and he did just that, in record time if I may add.

The next day he tried explaining himself:

Him: Sorry again about last night. That’s never happened to me before. I swear. It’s just that I got into a fight with my baby mama jana. She was pissed off that I don’t spend enough time at home with her and our child.

(Upon learning he has a baby mama that he lives with) Me:

Him: Thing is I was supposed to go home early and spend time with them, but then you called and I didn’t want to say no to you. But then I started thinking about them and well … it fucked with my hard on.

Me:

Him: But I promise it won’t happen again. So I was thinking maybe tonight …

Me:

As the one and only Samantha Jones said in the S06E02 episode of Sex and the City titled ‘Great Sexpectations’, “Fuck me badly once, shame on you. Fuck me badly twice, shame on me!”

And with that I have finally told all SATC stories from my past since nowadays I am only fucking one man who dicks me down like nothing I have ever experienced before! While I may put up some SATC posts every now and then, they will not be as often or with the same level of explicitness as before. My wish is for this category to live on via guest posts like these ones by Robertta Bobbie and Birgen Lotter. So if you have a sex story you would like to share (it can be done anonymously btw) feel free to drop me an email on lwiletheleo@gmail.com or DM me on Twitter or Instagram.