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Behind The Facades: A Voyeur’s Tale Of Lust And Eroticism




  Behind The Facades

  A Voyeur’s Tale Of Lust And Eroticism

  MYA HAVENS

  Text Copyright © Mya Havens

  All rights reserved. No part of this guide may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Legal & Disclaimer

  The information contained in this book and its contents is not designed to replace or take the place of any form of medical or professional advice; and is not meant to replace the need for independent medical, financial, legal or other professional advice or services, as may be required. The content and information in this book has been provided for educational and entertainment purposes only.

  The content and information contained in this book has been compiled from sources deemed reliable, and it is accurate to the best of the Author's knowledge, information and belief. However, the Author cannot guarantee its accuracy and validity and cannot be held liable for any errors and/or omissions. Further, changes are periodically made to this book as and when needed. Where appropriate and/or necessary, you must consult a professional (including but not limited to your doctor, attorney, financial advisor or such other professional advisor) before using any of the suggested remedies, techniques, or information in this book.

  Upon using the contents and information contained in this book, you agree to hold harmless the Author from and against any damages, costs, and expenses, including any legal fees potentially resulting from the application of any of the information provided by this book. This disclaimer applies to any loss, damages or injury caused by the use and application, whether directly or indirectly, of any advice or information presented, whether for breach of contract, tort, negligence, personal injury, criminal intent, or under any other cause of action.

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  Introduction

  Sizonge Fundikira was not a saint after all even though he was an altar boy while in primary school. He would entertain girls in his cubicle and have sex with them. He had mastered the art of sex from Indimuli, the village nincompoop. Forget Indimuli's lack of an endowment in academics but girls would never forget him for his mind-blowing and bed-rattling orgasm after chewing the back of the wonder tree mugombero. His mantra was “keeping it simple but very entertaining.” Girls would recall the action with Indimuli, “Sure, crazy, wild and made my body bend and the butt kept my lust life. It was an experience out of this world.” Indimuli would tease his girls that his goal was to break pleasure records as a sexual machine. And so, his pupil was none other than Sizonge Fundikira or Sizo. “You have to stick to the basics if you want to accomplish elaborate acrobatics in wild sex. It is also paramount to put your focus on the sex and learn how to contort yourself to have more than experience in the sensations,” he would coach Sizo.

  With time, Sizo mastered different sexual styles with his girlfriend, the eccentric Flora Anyango. On this day, Flora was on top of Sizo in a quest to achieve orgasm. It allowed Sizo to dictate the depth of thrusting his dick and pace that left Anyango speaking in unknown tongues. With time, Sizo had access to Anyango's clitoris with his cock that drove her crazy. Anyango touched her C-spot since she was tender and young but not a novice in matters sex. She allowed Sizo feel her C-spot and later rubbed against his pubic bone to achieve orgasm. And like a chameleon on a zebra, Sizo upped the ante by pulling a 180-degree turn that drove Anyango crazy. Anyango twisted around and pointed towards Sizo's feet in reverse cowgirl position. But instead of Anyango straddling Sizo, Anyango put her legs together, feet flat between Sizo’s legs. It brought a great change in this encounter with Anyango's legs together and the fit even tighter.

  These two lovebirds made their sensations more intense. And like an enchanted man, Sizo increased Anyango's G-spot stimulation, and it worked out wonders with Anyango's clitoral strokes which ended in an explosive orgasm. But by a twist of betrayal, Sizo did not end up marrying Anyango. He betrayed her when he vowed never to marry a moderately educated woman like Anyango after he scaled the academic heights to the university. Sizo ended up marrying the brainy Maryanne, who also had the sexual agility of Anyango but later loathed Sizo for his sexual escapades and binge drinking.

  The seven-seater sofa set, part of which Mayi Fundikira was perched on with such regal poise, had been bought soon after the younger Fundikiras got married. That would be exactly two decades come their next anniversary, just a month and a couple of weeks ahead. It had seen good days, the couch that is. Okay, the marriage too, if you come to think of it. Fortunately, the seven-seater could be salvaged and survive a few more years. Maryanne Fundikira's friend Marsha Kitile had recommended to her this magnificent national youth service trained tailor who made exquisite seat covers for her; that had transformed the old sofa set into something as decent as decent can be. The fix solution that many problems need is a cover. If the cover is good enough, it covers in all the stains, signs, wear and tear that inevitable time and deliberate adventure wrecks. Who would ever guess that at the skillfully crafted silk covers with a mauve pattern of a beige background, was the stained and torn upholstery of seats that had seen better days?

  Nobody cares to look beneath what they see. If what meets the eye pleases it, that usually is quite enough. For a woman who had risen through the ranks of her career to a managerial position, stayed married for close to two decades and raised two children now in their teens, it was surprising how Maryanne was reduced to a fidgety, nervous wreck when in the presence of her husband's mother. For the nineteen years, she had been married to Sizonge Fundikira; Maryanne had to live with the old lady's patronizing attitude. The disapproval that was always there was often hinted even if it was never spoken outright in this family. It was an open secret that Mayi (mother), Fundikira had been against her eldest son's marriage to someone that she still referred to as 'that girl'. She always did it with that little sniff and a haughty tilt to her gray head that clearly expressed the disdain she had always harbored.

  Mayi Fundikira was expected to be around for a week or so. She had come to have her blood sugar and pressure checked at 'the big hospital. One week that Maryanne would like to see gone. She wondered whether her mother-in-law's 'checkup ' story wasn't just an excuse to come, pry and constitute a general nuisance. Hadn't county hospitals been spruced up, equipped and adequately staffed lately? She had seen something about that on one of the television channels. “Did that child clean my shoes for me?” Mayi asked from one corner of her mouth while looking straight ahead with an attitude that openly said that had Maryanne be any good at all as a human being, she would have seen to the cleaning of the older lady's shoes without her having to ask. “Let me go and see if he has,” Maryanne offered hastily, glad for an excuse to escape the old lady's imposing, suffocating presence if just for a couple of minutes.

  The child? Really. Ezra, the Fundikiras’ house help was thirty. But to Mayi Fundikira anyone sixty and under was a ‘child’. That was one way in which she raised herself above the rest of humanity. In her nervousness, Maryanne fumbled with her flip-flops, clicking on her irritation as she finally went outside. The air outside seemed sweeter and fresher than she remembered. She gasped with a couple of deep lungfuls before calli
ng out to Ezra. “Did you clean their shoes?” She hissed as soon as Ezra ambled over. She and her mother-in-law usually referred to each other in the third person. But hers only when she was sure she was out of Mayi's hearing range. “Yes. There they are.” Ezra pointed to where Mayi's low heeled leather hush puppies were leaning against the wall. She would have noticed them if her mind had not been so addled up by her mother-in-law's domineering presence. Just then, it seemed to her that Ezra was looking at her with a cheeky sneer. “What is it?” she asked irritably, frowning at him. “Nothing Madam.” she mumbled through whatever he was chewing while giving her an openly insolent leer. Clicking her tongue with annoyance, she turned, picked up Mayi's shoes and walked back into the house with them. “Okay, I don't need them just now. I hope you didn't unnecessarily trouble that child”, Mayi said in a slightly accusatory tone as soon as Maryanne placed the shoes beside her.

  “He had already finished cleaning them up, “Maryanne replied with clenched teeth. At precisely that time, Claire came down the stairs from her room. Maryanne hated Mayi's overbearing in her house. She loved Ezra since Sizo was no longer there for her sexually. Ezra was the good house boy, and Maryanne also suspected he would be good in bed. “Come over Ezra, my love for you go beyond servant - master relationship. I am starved of sex, and you know Sizo is no longer there for me. If you give me a treat, then I will give you a salary increase of three thousand shillings,” Maryanne gave the offer.

  Two weeks down the line, Ezra's mother was sick with pneumonia, and she needed to send money home for her treatment in Bungoma County. “Madam, Mama, is sick at home, and she requires three thousand and five hundred shillings for medication,” Ezra begged.

  “I gave you an offer, and you arrogantly rejected it. The offer is still there, and you are the problem. Take it or leave it.” Maryanne put it bluntly. Ezra’s challenge had cornered him. Claire and Sam were away on a school tour that evening and as usual, Sizo was away in his drinking spree. Ezra loved his mother so much and would do anything to save her life. Maryanne pulled Ezra to the kitchen table which reached to the waist of Ezra. She fished out a condom and gave it to Ezra who had now gathered all the courage to swim in the ocean of his boss. He put it on his erect dick while Maryanne lay down on the table with her butt near the edge. Ezra entered Maryanne while standing between his legs. He held on to her hips for leverage. Maryanne rested her feet on Ezra's shoulders and later moved on to the edge of the table. And since Ezra was standing, his hands were free to stroke Maryanne's body. Ezra was at a perpendicular angle by now, rather than right on top of Maryanne. It is a position that made it easier for Ezra to touch Maryanne's clitoris unclogged. Maryanne increased her odds of getting to orgasm in this hot stolen sex; she clenched Ezra's back like a steering wheel and lifted up her butt. It’s a position that increased the blood flow, the pelvic tension and the sex was just a wild affair. Thirty minutes down the line, the master-servant relationship had been eroded, and they clad like Siamese twins. For all his effort and agility, Maryanne gave Ezra four thousand shillings and in a flash, Ezra sent the three thousand and five hundred shillings home. Therefore, for Mayi to leer and push around Ezra was like touching the apple of Maryanne's eye.

  Chapter 1 – Sam & Claire

  “Ah! Here you are!” Mayi Fundikira glanced at her granddaughter. Physically, Claire Fundikira was the replica of her mother even at sixteen. Not just the full figure, heart-shaped quite beautiful face with the cute dimples, but also the light complexion. But that was where the resemblance ended. Claire had been named after her grandmother, and perhaps that was why Mayi was more lenient with her. “You have been reading your books, haven't you?” Mayi softened her voice as she asked that. Quite contrary to the way she got with Maryanne, Mayi Fundikira always treated Claire as if the girl had a delicate condition that called for her being treated with more than usual gentleness. As if she could break into pieces or vaporize suddenly if she wasn't given the requisite tenderness.

  “I was doing up your room, Koko,” Claire smiled her gentle, angel smile. She always talked hesitantly, looking uncertainly at whoever else was around as if she needed someone to assure her that she was saying the right thing or breathing the correct way. Claire was less trouble than most girls of her age; Maryanne had to give her that - but perhaps she would have done with a bit of trouble from this child, really - just a weenie-teeny bit. Sometimes Maryanne just wished Claire would 'grow down' somewhat. She sometimes was so serious and odd.

  Maryanne wouldn't have minded a more normal daughter. The type that giggles and hides from household chores to meet boys and make private, secretive calls on the phone. Sizo always referred to his two children as 'Thick and Thin' when he had a few glasses under his belt which happened all the time. As far as school went, Claire was as thick as a bowl of porridge – to put it plainly. She barely scraped through her exams and painfully limped from one class to the next. She had never been higher than the bottom half of each class right from when she had been enrolled in school.

  The family geek was her brother – ‘Thin’. Sam Fundikira's bony, lean build was from Maryanne's side, as she silently acknowledged. The boy imbibed everything that was put in front of him with incredible gusto and appetite, but all he ever did was grow taller and ganglier, and not a scrap of flesh on his bones. Maryanne's two brothers were of the same build, which made the uncanny resemblance all too obvious. What Sizo wouldn’t acknowledge was that the whiz-kid's brains were also from Maryanne’s side. Maryanne and her siblings - had sailed through school. She had even had her masters earlier than Sizo, but one should never talk about such things. That and things like the fact that Sizo was the only one among his five siblings who had ever qualified to join college. All the bad traits in her kids had to be from their mother's side and the good ones from their father’s.

  “Did you make my bed with real blankets this time dear?” Mayi Fundikira purred in the way she had of making questions sound like statements, giving Maryanne that look yet again. What she meant was to disapprove of the duvet that Maryanne had made her bed with, the last time she had visited. Mayi had made such a fuss about it. Maryanne decided to ignore that. “Did you leave the window open dear? It would air the room a little bit.” She asked Claire in a small voice as she checked her little wrist watch while pretending to be picking at a thread on the sleeve of her blouse. Four thirty. She needed to get out of the house by five thirty at least.

  Just then, a ball of sunshine burst into the tension-chilled room in the person of Sherry Mwanga. She was Claire's friend, okay, not really. The Mwanga's and Fundikiras seemed to be bound together by some web that destiny had woven around them. Sizo Fundikira and Charles Mwanga had been schoolmates; actually, classmates and dormitory mates. Mwanga had been the star, the genius that earned the teachers’ praise while Fundikira had barely scored what was required to be able to get to the next stage. They had ended up at the same university, with Sizo studying for a B.A. in communications while Mwanga was doing his bachelor's in engineering.

  And soon after Sizo completed his one storey house that had taken him a couple of years to build, the Mwangas rented the bungalow just across the road from the Fundikira residence by sheer coincidence. And the friendship between the two men picked up from where it had left off in college, with their respective families bonding and talking to each other with warmth so that it would seem to any observer. By some strange turn of fate, Sizonge Fundikira was doing better than his high school classmate. Mwanga was still having peanuts thrown at him by the government as a civil servant while Sizo's illicit connections by being a member of the wealthy and well-known families, was the CEO of a corporate firm — THE NETWORK.

  There could never be two people more different in appearance and character than Claire Fundikira and Sherry Mwanga. Both were sixteen and in the third form of high school. But that was all they had in common. While Claire always had this dark, rain-laden cloud hanging around her, petite, dark-complexioned color, Sherry was a ball
of sunshine. She seemed to cast this warmth and light around her, no matter how grim the surroundings were. “Heeeyy Koko!” She squealed with genuine delight as she flew with raised arms to where Mayi Fundikira was sitting like an aged monarch on her throne. The old lady opened up her arms, her wrinkle-creased face unfolding in one of her very rare smiles. One would have thought that this teenager, dressed in tight blue 'skinny jeans, strapless top, her hair done in bright red dyed baby dreads in honor of the long December holidays and freedom from school regulations would meet Mayi Fundikira's usual imposing disapproval. But no! The old lady was obviously delighted to see Sherry whom she had met on countless previous visits.

  “They didn't tell me you are around!” Sherry exclaimed in her usually loud, ever excited voice. “They wouldn't tell you, my dear, would they?” Mayi shot Maryanne another look that made it clear that she was the 'they ' that had failed to carry out such an important task. It was incredible to see how the old lady who seemed to disapprove of just about everything and everyone was so openly fond of this boisterous teenager.

  “Did you bring me any goodies!? “Sherry tinkled on. “The maize is out of season, but I brought some fruit and cassava. I hope they won't keep it all for themselves.” She pursued her lips and glanced towards Maryanne again. Maryanne was sure Sherry wasn't in any way interested in Mayi Fundikira's 'goodies'- she was only finding a way to twirl the old lady around her little finger. There was something else about Sherry that she couldn't put a finger to, something that set off some alarm deep within her system.

  “Has your mother left for the meeting at Agatha's, Sherry?” Maryanne struggled to keep her voice cheerful and free of the dislike she felt as she said it. After all, the girl's mother was supposed to be one of her closest friends. “She is just about to leave! Aren't you ready yet? “Sherry trilled as if she was excited about that too.