I never thought I’d become the kind of man who’d stand in a doorway, phone in hand, recording his girlfriend getting railed by some short, long-nosed weasel with the audacity to call himself a politician. But there I was, my thumb hovering over the record button like it was the detonator to my own life, watching Kendi’s thick, dark thighs tremble as Kasongo, fucking Kasongo humped her like a rabbit on espresso. The sofa, that goddamn two-seater I’d helped her pick out at that overpriced furniture store in Westlands, groaned under their combined weight, the springs whining in protest like they, too, were betrayed.
Kendi’s tits those glorious, heavy things I’d worshipped like sacred offerings bounced with every thrust, her nipples hard little pebbles begging for attention. Kasongo, in all his glory, had one hand clamped over her hip like he was steering a shopping cart, the other groping her ass like he was kneading dough. His dick because of course I noticed was pathetically small, but his balls swung like pendulums in a clock tower, slapping against her with every shallow pump. How the hell was she even feeling that? I wondered, before realizing she was probably faking it. Classic Kendi. Always a performer.
“Ohhh, Kasongo,” she moaned, her voice all breathy and fake, like she was reading lines from a bad porno. “Fuck me harder, baby! Right there, yes!” She arched her back, her ass lifting off the couch like she was trying to dislodge a wedgie, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. This was the same woman who’d told me last week that she had a “delicate constitution” and needed “gentle, spiritual lovemaking.” Turns out, her delicate constitution could handle being jackhammered by a guy whose dick looked like it belonged on a prepubescent boy.
I zoomed in, the camera lens catching the way Kasongo’s face scrunched up like he’d just smelled something foul—probably his own cologne. His long nose twitched, and for a second, I swore he looked like a rat mid-sneeze. Then he groaned, a sound somewhere between a whimper and a dying goat, and I watched in horrified fascination as his tiny dick twitched, pulled out, and—oh god—a single, sad droplet of cum oozed onto Kendi’s thigh. She didn’t even wait for him to finish. No, my beloved girlfriend grabbed his hips and shoved him back inside her like she was trying to reattach a loose screw.
“Mmm, that’s it,” she cooed, her voice dripping with the same fake sweetness she used when she wanted me to buy her another pair of shoes. “Give it to me, daddy.”
Daddy. I nearly dropped the phone.
Kasongo’s eyes rolled back, and he let out a sound that could only be described as a constipated yelp. His balls tightened, his back arched, and—finally—he came, his whole body shuddering like he’d just touched a live wire. Kendi, ever the actress, threw her head back and let out a moan so dramatic I half-expected an Oscar nomination. Then, as Kasongo collapsed onto her like a deflated airbag, she reached down and milked his dick with her fingers, squeezing out the last few drops of cum like she was wringing out a sponge.
That’s when it happened.
Kasongo’s glazed, post-nut eyes locked onto the doorway. Right at me. Right at the phone.
For a second, time stopped. His face went from slack-jawed bliss to pure, unadulterated rage faster than a Kenyan matatu driver spotting a traffic cop. “WHAT THE FUCK!” he bellowed, his voice cracking like a teenager’s. He scrambled off Kendi so fast he nearly took the couch with him, his tiny dick flopping around like a sad, confused earthworm.
Kendi shrieked, her hands flying to cover herself now she had modesty? as Kasongo lunged for his pants. “You!” he snarled, pointing at me like I was the one who’d just been caught with my dick in his girlfriend. “Delete that now, or I’ll”
He didn’t get to finish. The door behind me burst open, and two of Kasongo’s goons, because of course he had goons—barreled in like they were storming a drug den. The bigger one, a mountain of a man with a neck wider than my waist, grabbed me by the collar and slammed me against the wall so hard I saw stars. My phone clattered to the floor, but not before I caught a glimpse of Kendi’s face—wide-eyed, mouth gaping, looking like she’d just been caught stealing the last chapati at a family gathering.
“Boss, we got him,” the goon grunted, his breath smelling like stale beer and bad decisions. He wrenched my arm behind my back, and I yelped like a stepped-on puppy.
Kasongo, now fully dressed (sort of—his shirt was inside out), snatched my phone off the floor. His fingers flew over the screen, and I watched in slow-motion horror as he deleted the video. The only evidence of Kendi’s betrayal, gone. Just like my dignity.
“You” Kasongo jabbed a finger in my face, his long nose twitching like he was smelling his own bullshit. “You ever come near me or my business again, and I’ll have you feeding the hyenas in Nairobi Park. Understand?”
I nodded, because what else was I going to do? Argue with a man who had goons and a god complex? The mountain of a man released me, and I slumped forward, gasping like a fish on land. Kasongo gave me one last glare—part disgust, part triumph—before barking at his men to “clean this up.” They dragged him out, but not before he shot Kendi a look that said, We’ll talk later.
And then it was just us.
Kendi sat frozen on the couch, her legs still spread, Kasongo’s cum drying on her thigh like a sad, sticky reminder of her choices. She opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again. “Baby, I—I can explain—”
“Explain?” I laughed, the sound sharp and bitter, like coffee grounds in a fresh wound. “Oh, I’d love to hear this. Please, enlighten me, Kendi. Was it the way he daddy’d you? Or was it his impressive cock?” I gestured vaguely at her crotch. “I mean, I saw the thing. It looked like a disappointed finger. So what was it? The passion? The romance? Or just the thrill of fucking someone who isn’t me?”
Her lower lip trembled. Classic Kendi. The waterworks were coming. “It,it wasn’t like that! He’s been helping me with—with things”
“Things?” I crossed my arms. “Oh, you mean things like lying to my face every time you told me you were ‘working late’? Things like letting him rail you on our couch while I’m out there like an idiot, thinking you’re ‘exhausted’ from ‘long meetings’?”
She swallowed hard, her big, beautiful eyes welling up. “You don’t understand”
“I understand perfectly.” I took a step back, my voice dropping to a dangerous calm. “You’re a liar. A great one, actually. I’ll give you that. But I’m done being the fool who believes you.”
She lunged off the couch, her tits bouncing with the movement, and grabbed my arm. “Baby, please”
I yanked free. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
For a second, she looked like I’d slapped her. Then her face twisted, the tears drying up as fast as they’d come. “You know what? Fine.” She threw her hands up, her voice rising to a shrill whine. “You’re so perfect, huh? Like you’ve never looked at another woman! Like you’ve never thought about”
“I never fucked them on our couch!” I roared.
She flinched.
Silence.
Then, like the petty, vindictive goddess she was, she smirked. “You’re jealous. That’s what this is. You’re mad because he could make me cum and you”
“Oh, so now it’s about orgasms?” I laughed, shaking my head. “Kendi, baby, I made you cum so hard you forgot your own name. But sure, keep telling yourself it’s about the dick and not the money he’s been slipping you.”
Her face went pale.
Bingo.
I turned toward the door, my hand on the knob. “Have fun with your business partner.” I glanced back at her, at the cum drying on her thigh, at the couch that would forever be haunted by the ghost of Kasongo’s tiny dick. “Oh, and Kendi? Next time, at least wipe before you start crying.”
I slammed the door behind me so hard the frame rattled.
The hallway was quiet. Too quiet. I stood there for a second, my heart pounding, my hands shaking. Then, slowly, a laugh bubbled up from my chest—a real one, sharp and disbelieving. I’d just walked in on my girlfriend getting fucked by a corrupt, small-dicked weasel, lost the only evidence, and still managed to walk out with my head held high.
What the hell was next?
I pulled out my keys, took a deep breath, and started walking.
Somewhere behind me, I heard the faint sound of Kendi screaming probably at Kasongo for not lasting longer.
I grinned.
For the first time in months, the future looked bright. READ CHAPTER 2 https://jonathanmwaniki.co.ke/posts/kugongewa-na-kasongo-2