The Temptress

The Rackster

[ Here is a writer that wants to rule the world one ball at a time. Meet Canduh. A self proclaimed ball buster and a closet feminist. I say closet just to rustle the hornets nest. Well have a read and see for yourself. The Rackster plays a pretty good host. So welcome to my world. For more on her works take the time to visit her World of Random.]

His eyes are shut tight.  He’s breathing hard, fast, panting like a dog. Sweat is trickling down the sides of his face. He’s saying mumbling something but I can’t quite get the words. It’s about to happen. I keep stroking. His manhood gripped tightly in my hands. And finally, I feel the warm thick fluid pour into my hands. I see his face contort into some weird expression. His body twists and convulses as he pours his…

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Who Put The Gay in Vacay

So this week's guest post is from this young lad the Rackster . His writing is impeccable, leave alone the creativity bit. Many are the times I have visited his blog to read one post and 1 hour later, I find myself still reading. You'll have to visit his WordPress to get what I mean.... Continue Reading →

I am My Kenya

We are a complaining country. A country that keeps blaming the government for failing to fulfill it's duties. We blame the goverment for corruption, poor state of roads, a failing health industry, the pathetic state of public schools...well, basically everything. While it may be true that the government has failed to mete the obligations that... Continue Reading →

In her shoes

This story…

The Rackster

The drink in her hand was as bitter as she was. Accustomed to its bitterness she took one large gulp. I was watching her face, not even a grimace or a wince. What would make a woman this numb to pain? Her eyes told a story – a story I was going to narrate.

Raising her hand she summoned the bartender, asked for two cigarettes looked at me and smiled.

“I hope you don’t mind”

You see the bill was on me. I nodded and gave her my approval. Minutes later they arrived, two white sticks –

Dunhill I think. For a hooker she got class. From the depths of her showing cleavage she rummaged for a lighter, clicked it twice and sparks flickered like the choking flames of a dying ember – she must have used it one too many times.

“Got a light?” She unexpectedly asked me.


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If a woman doesn’t exhibit some interest in your advances, please quit pestering her. Stop with the “Why haven’t you replied my text yet you’re online” kind of nonsense. The un-replied texts, blue Whatsapp ticks and missed calls should have been proper indication of her lack of interest in you, but it seems some men... Continue Reading →

Changing Times…

Gone are the days of our fathers. The good old days when grandpa would educate his sons so that they could become “Mwalimu” or “Daktari”, an old man’s pride was to see his sons become respectable people in the society.  In those days, a teacher was held in high regards.  Everyone looked up to them... Continue Reading →

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