This Is What Quickie Sex With A Sponsor Looks Like – From The Minute You Meet To The Minute He Undresses You- In A Hotel Room.

By now,you’re obviously familiar with the ‘Sponsor’ craze that has been sweeping away the Nairobi female populace. Your girlfriend has one. Your sister has one. Your wife probably has one too. All your cousins share one. And your father is probably in a WhatsApp group titled ‘City Sponsors’.

It’s a phenomena that has shaken the city and created a huge buzz across the Internet,with many puns and memes being shared across the board,and with girls like Cheryl Kitonga,our resident ‘Sponsee’, being the butt of the crude jokes across Twitter,much to her chagrin.

Now,every little girl wants to grow up into the warm,loving arms of some 60-something year old who will not yell at her,lie to her,let her down,let her starve,break her brittle heart and treat her like trash like the typical 20-something year old boyfriends do.

What a wonderful World.

But we all know the dynamics of a girlfriend – boyfriend relationship. It’s a pretty simple, albeit exciting,routine.

So,what’s the dynamics of an affair with a sponsor? Let’s explore…..

But before we go there,let us remember that ;

.Sponsors are busy people. Very busy people.
.Sponsors are rarely available over the weekend – they prefer to operate over weekdays
.Sponsors operate on a very tight schedule,one that is closely managed by their wives
.Sponsors love to multi-task. Have dinner with you and at the same time holding a meeting with some business partners.

Now,assuming you’ve already met ‘The One Sponsor’ and you’ve been secretly seeing him for a while,what’s the sex date with a sponsor like?

STEP ONE: THE TEXT
It starts with that quick text that he sends at around 3pm in the afternoon. This is the perfect time because he’s now tired and bored and idle. He’s had a long day. Been working all morning and has not even had time to have lunch. He’s now sitting back in his office,his head thrown back over the Italian leather chair,his laptop idling on the cluttered desk. That’s when you pop in his mind. And then he sends you that quick ‘Hi….’ text. Followed with a ‘Busy today? I’m free…’. You reply immediately because you’re a starving,poor woman in need of company and money and attention. He says ‘Coffee?’ You say ‘Sure’. He says ‘4.30pm….’ and texts you the restaurant you’re supposed to show up at. You’re game. He starts packing up and stretching his feet. He’s about to leave office.

STEP TWO: MEET-UP
You’ve already arrived at the restaurant he asked you to show up at. You’re an idle woman with very little going on in your life. You’ve barely eaten all morning. And your DSTV has been unpaid since last week. Clearly,you needed to get out of that house. He shows up. Not alone though – but with some other three guys. All of whom look as tacky as him. He tries to trace you. And tries and tries. He finally spots the needy you at a corner. Your hair,which now really needs to go,stiffly flicking in the wind. You wave at him and smile sheepishly. He comes over. Gang in tow.

STEP THREE- THE ACTUAL DATE
A date with a sponsor (Coffee date,Dinner date) is mostly some sort of business date for him. Half of the time,he’ll show up with some guys to ‘Ongea biashara’ while meeting you up at the same time. And today,it’s not any different. He sits next to you after hugging you awkwardly. His boys are now thirsting over you. He’s showing you off to them. And you’re sitting there,like the needy African child you are,ready to impress your donor as much as you can. His boys sit around the table and clutter it up. They’re huge and loud. And for the next two hours,you have to sit there. Sit through their talk and loud,incessant laughter. One of the boys can’t stop ogling at you. And you don’t mind. You little hoe.

STEP FOUR – MOVE TO A BAR
The talks are over. The silly laughters are over. You guys have probably had some steak or chicken or salad or something. God knows you needed to eat. He asks the ka-waiter,who has been hovering over your take all this time like a giant bee,to bring over the bill. The bill is brought over,carefully enclosed in some booklet thingy. He pores over it,pays via swiping,tips the guy,looks at you and asks, ‘Utakunywa kidogo’ his little beard tingling in the restaurant lights. Slow Rhumba music is playing. You actually want to fart.

STEP FIVE : DRINKS
Half of all the City sponsors are hopeless drunkards. Blokes who could drink a whole bar down. And the next. And the next. So,it’s drinks time. Yeeeaaaayyyy. You’re also a hopeless drunkard too. Just like all of your girls. And your Dad back in the village. So,let’s do this. You drink and drink and drink. You’re now starting to open up more and talk more. The boys can’t help checking you out. In fact,one of them has just asked you to call over one of your girls. You smile and say ‘Wacha nimtext… But maybe ako busy’. But you know very well that none of your girls are ever busy. They’re like street children – always waiting on the fence,ready to be called and engaged. The other boy asks you, ‘Ita wawili bana… Niitie kasichana pia… Pesa tuko nayo…’ and then he laughs at his own silly joke. The boys pick up his laughter and fall over with it. You quickly turn on your Mobile Data. ‘Uko? Niko na mpango. Mko na Caro’ you text them. More drinks. And more drinks and more drinks. There’s a ka-Rhumba band playing at a corner. Dear Lord.

STEP SIX – YOUR GIRLS HAVE COME
It’s been close to an hour and a half now since you texted your girls asking them to kuja mbio… But still,they’re nowhere to be seen. ‘Kwani hawafiki??’ Silvano,one of the boys,whose name you’ve finally mustered,asks,adjusting his tie. ‘Wanakam’ you assure him as your Sponsor attempts some PDA. Crap. No PDA please. No PDA please. You pray. Too bad. He’s already stretching his fat hands allover you. And attempting to kiss you. Super awkward. And yuck. He’s now on his seventh beer. White Cap,to be precise. Your tu-girls have come. Yeeeay! Looking like the homeless children they are. They walk over to your table and the two boys quickly get up to pull them a chair and hug them and help them offload their huge hand bags. They smile at you and take their place at the table of sin. Silvano,the loudest one,beckons at the waiter who comes running over like a wounded kitten.

STEP SEVEN : IT’S TIME TO LEAVE
Your Sponsor’s wife has been texting him endlessly for the last one hour. She even called twice. And he excused himself to go talk to her impatient ass at the washrooms. He signals everyone. It’s time to leave. And sure,it is. I mean,it’s already 11.48pm now. Like,12 freaking minutes to midnight. Time moves so fast. Wind up your drinks,girls. We’re leaving. You gulp down your glass like a Russian assassin. And pour some more. And some more. You’re feeling drunk as an Irish dog. Your girls are already halfway into sex. And you can swear there’s a finger groping under Carol’s pants. Waiter brings over the bill. It’s deep into the thousands. Silvano offers to pay this one… You all stand up to leave. Rhumba band is still yelling themselves away. Paying tribute to Papa Wemba and shit.

STEP NINE : LEAVE FOR THE CARS
This is a pretty simple step. Just stand,rush to the washrooms,pee your shame away,and walk over to the table. Sponsor went to pee too. Oh,he’s back. You both walk to his Prado. Or V8. Or Discovery. It’s about to be a busy night…He takes forever trying to reverse his car away and tip the cold-stricken soldier at the same time.

STEP TEN : GET A ROOM.
He’s been groping you and feeling his way around your underwear throughout the drive. Now you’re in Westlands. At some restaurant that has rooms too. His finger has been up your panties already. Actually,he almost hit a boda boda guy while trying to shove that finger up your vagina. The rooms are going for some Ksh. 5,000 a night. Up to 10,000 or so. You move to another place. And the rooms are not that expensive. Get off car. Quickly,pay for room. He puts his phone off. And climbs up the stairs with you,his hands allover your boobies.

STEP TEN : SEX,BITCH!
You’ve already stepped into the room,he’s already removed his jacket and thrown it across the leather chair next to the bed,you say you need to pee,he says he needs to pee too. He sits on the bed and straightens out his old legs. He removes his socks and pulls down his pants. He’s wearing some blue shorts inside. He pulls away his shirt to reveal a belly the size of a small tank. He falls back on the bed waiting for you to leave the toilet. You take too long. He starts snoring. You’re back. With no panties. And no bra. Titties dancing in the light. You sit across him… And rub that belly… It’s about to go down!!!!!

TO BE CONTINUED…..