Nairobi Nights: The Indifferent Men, Tale of a Sex Worker.

When I started having sex I used to think the end was the only thing. And by end I mean sexual climax. Of course the end mattered but it didn’t take long to learn the process of attaining the climax was also important; for it is this that differentiates the sexual ability of girls. When I was a novice in my kind of work I was not sure why men pay for sex; whether it was because they were sexually starved or because they were seeking variety. If it was the former then the end is what would matter, but if the latter the process would be crucial. Most of the men I slept with in downtown seemed starved and need of sex per se. They were okay with me just lying on my back, my head resting on my hands as they had their pleasure.  Or perhaps they were not starved sexually but in the pocket and thus were aware that for the 200 shillings they paid they could only get budget sex.

In the Street it was different and has been for a long time. The men who come there are most likely to have multiple girlfriends or are enjoying relatively good sex with their wives. But they pay a premium to, among other things, go to the edge of pleasure which is achieved not by the climax itself but the anticipation towards it. That’s the reason many of us here give their all to the clients. We kiss, lick and touch where girlfriends and wives don’t. We also allow men to do certain things on us they dare not do to their women. And because we have sex so many times and with so many different men, over time we become experts of sorts.

But something has changed of late. It’s tougher than ever before to satisfy my clients. And not because the quality of my performance has gone down, not at all, but rather men seem to have raised their expectations. If not they have become indifferent to my efforts towards achieving climax. I am flexible, creative and will go the extra mile to please my clients. And as much as I want repeat customers or bonus payment I do it because of the ego boost I get seeing a man enjoying my services. The face of a man who is pleasantry surprised by what I am doing to him sticks me for a while and motivates me, sometimes more than the money.

A few minutes with a man I am able to accurately guess what he has experienced and what he hasn’t. That way I am able to pull a trick out of my bag and give him something new. But none of my creative efforts surprises my clients anymore. And I don’t think all of them have had a taste of some of the things I come up with. I am also one of those who believe there are infinite ways to play with a man. When I ask some of these men if there is any particular experience they want, they don’t pinpoint anything. It is very frustrating.

I cannot find any logical for this new man, and my ego does not allow me to ask my colleagues whether they are experiencing the same but looking at their faces I bet they are. Is it that sex is so easily available that men are bored of it? I don’t think so. It can’t be. If I was a science alarmist I would say we are going through an evolution moment when a species adapts to acquire a favorable trait. Perhaps men who have no frills sex live longer, though I guess they are less successful. Now I digress.

I once read a question a lady had asked an Agony Aunt. “What do I do to spice up our sex life?” The answer was the classical “Do away with all the shame and assume you are a prostitute”. So what answer would she give to an actual prostitute? Maybe that’s the answer I need.

Before you write me off know I still got a trick up my sleeve, the one thing that will make any man say ” Shit!” and actually do it. Or so I think. But then this is supposed to be the secret weapon spared for the special one or the most desperate of situations, like when my life or a million dollars is at stake. Irrespective of what the indifferent men do, I won’t stop believing I am still one of the best in bed.

Writer: Sue

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