MISSION POSSIBLE 3: BEHIND THE SCENES

MISSION POSSIBLE 3: BEHIND THE SCENES

Well combed short hair, dark shades, white t-shirt, brown pair of khaki trousers, was what BN’s twin had rocked in when he opened the door to his room. He was eager to be THE ESCORT to this 1st year during fresher’s night; he had to take off the shades to put a tick that I was in a blue `please touch the floor’ dress and tights, and that gave me the best view of his bedroom eyes. Despite the fact that he tried to hide his disappointment and astonishment, I noted that; in another life I am a 4th year, remember? The unwritten rules of `dunda’ (hype parties) dictate that a lady dresses to impress, to kill, preferable an attire that can easily ignite a furnace of heat between his legs. But there I was in a blue maxi dress, tights, and doll shoes, not to forget my long trench coat. People thought I was straight from Dr. Awour’s church service on a Friday evening (my pal joked that I looked perfect JUST for a wife material).

His room was a found paradise on its own, classy curtains, well-arranged closet, well-furnished and lighted reading area, and expensive carpet; not to mention the heavenly bed. My nostrils do not fail to smell such fresh clean air; my eyes too realized that maroon-brown was the room’s theme. At some point, it felt like Westlands away from Nairobi, this room resembled a bedsitter at Westlands (like there are any). For the 4years I was in campus, I had never been to such a room in Moi. This guy must be loaded…way loaded to afford all this; not many students keep themselves (wanajiekaga) that way even with HELB money; don’t blame my Mulla thoughts, Central Kenya influenced me.

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I was in love with his eyes, BN looks, super sense of fashion and as if the list was not to end came his `metal’ memory. Based on our chat, he could not forget that scrabble is one of my favorite board games and thus he suggested we play a game to kill time; after all Kenrazy the chief guest of freshers’ night probably would not had arrived until midnight. We played the game as we enjoyed some cookies and wine. Did I tell you the kind of wine we were taking? Cellar tusk. Well, being a wannabe fresher also comes with more benefits than my imaginations could guess; hint: this was the 1st time I tasted this expensive wine. There and then, I gave my heart a high-five for making the decision to roll with Dan, damn he is a loaded cool guy. The cookies were sweeter than I presumed BTW…way sweet that my hands played a rhythmic song to and fro the plate, and before half game, they were over. He said that his pal cooks and he could order more which I did not disagree, to hell with burning the picture (kuchoma picha). I am a scrabble pro and although he is also a hard ass to kick, he was 13points beaten, thanks to the energy booster: the cookies.

9.30 pm, another activity was needed and that is how truth and dare came along. By now, dizziness was taking the better part of me, my head began feeling heavy. Last time I felt this was when peer influence had led me to using weed (I swear i didn’t know it’s illegal then, just in case one of you is a spy). There is no way wine could have had such a great effect on me….clue: I am not a light weight. The truth and dares were awesome; the fresher part of me enjoyed especially the part I was to lap dance to him. I did it `design ya 4th year’; the dizziness must had gone a long way because I accepted to the kissing dare. He kissed me hungrily, rocking his long body against mine in a way that stole my breath. It was after noting his arousal down there, that I came back to my senses and figured out that the cookies were not just cookies but they were `weed cookies’. I texted my pal, told her to call me and fake she is my cousin who is very mad at me and she needed me in the house by latest 10.30pm or else….. I made sure to switch to loudspeaker to clean any upcoming doubting air. He bought the story, kissed me, told me that I was a good kisser and my kiss tasted as fresh as the fresher in me….hehe. The gentleman in him called his `boda boda’ guy who was paid to drop me to my place.

Was it a joke gone too far? Was my dizziness an effect of cellar tusk? Were those weed cookies? Bottom line is: he had a plan which was ¾ incomplete, will he accomplish it? Revenge is now my favorite chorus.

ION, what could be of my writing skills without you? Praise Jesus for you my readers…LOVE YOU TO INFINITY. Your undying support will never go unrewarded. Can I thank you enough? NO. Thank you.

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