How i got to know more about kenyan escorts

How i got to know more about kenyan escorts.

“Nairobi escort services? What’s that?” hollers the agitated barmaid as she places her tray of empty bottles on the bar counter and fishes out her order list for the next round.

“Ati nini madam?” asks Kim, clearly taken by surprise.

“Pole Kim. Si wewe. Najua una bibi. Ni huyu mzungu hapa ananisumbua. Nairobi escort services ni ndui riu?” she answers him, gathering the unopened bottles of beer on her now empty tray.

“Ha-ha .. oooh! I thought you were talking to me. Nairobi escort ni biz ya kuuza manenoz. Giki kinyamu ni kiende mani!” comes the reply from a fairly tipsy Kim. They burst into laughter.

“Talk to this guy. He’ll help”, she says to the white man as she leaves to deliver the order. “Lazima akutip. Za macho nitadai” she adds, addressing Kim.

The white man pulls up a chair beside Kim and settles in then asks for four bottles of Heineken. Two for him, two for Kim. He knows how to create a rapport this one.

“Hello sir. My name is Wallace” he sparks up a conversation while extending his hairy arm with an open palm to Kim.

“Hello. Kim is mine. What brings you to this god forsaken town Wallace?”

“Business… and pleasure,” he replies smiling coyly.

They laugh heartily before carrying on with their (already) smoothly flowing conversation.

“Weren’t you taught to never mix business with pleasure?” teases Kim after downing the last mouthful of the frothy barley he had been imbibing.

“But isn’t that what escort services are all about? You pay to get pleased!” Wallace shoots back.

“Touche!” comes the rejoinder from the red eyed local. “They never put that into consideration when they coined that phrase.” Hic.

“So sir, where do I get escort services around here? These babies are too blue” Wallace laments in a pity-evoking tone, one hand on his crotch.

“Don’t you have a wife?” Kim the tease.

“Do you leave yours with her?” he says, pointing at Kim’s pelvic area.

“Damn! You are too smart Wally. Can I call you that?”

“I have no objection brother. So where?” he’s getting impatient.

“Have you tried the streets? Koinange? Biashara? Odeon?” asks Kim.

“I was going to, but a friend advised me against it. He said those women will d**g then rob me. Plus they are not on the streets anymore; I have been looking. Business must be booming”

“Well, that’s indeed true. The rotten ones rob you. The smart ones choose to stay indoors and let technology do client-hunting for them” they laugh heartily. “There are few online platforms. You know -like House help Bureaus- only that these one doe ‘housekeeping’ differently.Plus anonymity and your safety is guaranteed. So all you have to worry about is that shade of blue you’re lamenting.” More laughter.

“Tell me about those” says an eager Wallace, his eyes gleaming with hope.

“Check this out” utters his ‘local guide’ as he shows him a webpage on his smartphone. “Call boys and girls a click away!”

“Aaah ,.. NairobiHot! Interesting. Are there more like this?” he asks while scrolling through the page.

“Sure thing declares Kim,” beckoning Wally to hand over the phone so he can show him the remaining Nairobi escort service providers’ platforms. “There’s,, and . You’ll definitely find what you seek in one of those.

“And do they offer everything?” Wally asks.

“What’s everything?” Kim at it yet again! This time with a chuckle.

“Well, you know… massage, sex, company… or what are Nairobi escort services all about?” the white man asks, slightly agitated.

“Sure thing. Oh… there are men too. In case your female or gay friends feel ‘lonely’. These could easily pass for the Amazon of pleasure business, no?” tirades an intoxicated Kim who’s almost done with his second Heineken.

“Sorry, what was that?” probes Wally as he looks up from his phone. He’s been scrolling through the websites and was about to make a call to one of the girls he’d found.

“Hakuna matata!” shouts Kim.

“I have to go now brother. Thank you so much, you’ve been of great help” concludes Wallace as he gets up from his seat, pushes his untouched beers to Kim and pays his dues to the cashier before handing Kim a crisp ksh.1,000 note as the barmaid returns to the counter. She must have smelt the money from across the pub.

“Thank you Wallace. Go get laid!” Kim the josher shoots back, pocketing the cash. Easy money.

“Zangu za macho?” comes the subtle but very serious demand from the barmaid with her arm stretched, already itching with anticipation.