I write about a variety of topics but most people know me for my sex-themed articles. Let’s not kid ourselves. It takes real, bulky balls to write about sex. Not many people can do it. Try counting the number of people in Kenya or even Africa who write about sex. 1. Etemesi 2. ……? You can’t think of any right? If you do some digging, you can come up with the names of two or three other people and that’s it.
The reason a lot of people, even those who are talented with the pen avoid touching the topic of sex is because we have been conditioned since birth to guard our images and to be keen on how we present ourselves to society. We rarely think about it but from day to day, the decisions we make are guided by the question “what will people think about me?” Most of us are naughty and wild at heart but we’d never talk about sex openly, let alone write about it. We’d only open up in secrecy when we are with our close friends or confidants. Most of us would rather be seen as decent and respectable than sexually liberated. I bet there people who read my blog under the blanket. Furthermore, 80% of those who openly read my blog will never leave a comment because they don’t want the people who know them to see their names and discover how sexual they really are. Such is the extent to which we go to protect our ‘decency.’
If people are that afraid to even be associated with sex despite the fact that they do it everytime, imagine writing about it. Writing about intimacy creates seemingly endless fiascos. There is a good side to it but an ugly side rears it’s head as well.
The first bit of the ugly side is being judged by people who feel they are morally superior to you. They are called ‘holier than thou’ people. If you are a loyal reader of my erotic stories, you have probably noticed that I always begin with the statement ‘Do Not Read If You Are Holier Than Thou.’ Interestingly, there are those who read the stories then they still go ahead to talk trash. It’s like smoking cigarettes then complaining when you get lung cancer yet the cigarette pack is clearly written ‘Cigarette smoking is harmful to your health.’
There’s a guy I went to the same primary school and high school with. Him and I were cool when we were in school but nowadays he hates me with a passion. His girlfriend even used to live three blocks away from me and he would come to see her every weekend but he never ever said hello to me. Not even once. Surprisingly, his girlfriend was always kind to me. She would hug me and greet me with a smile whenever we bumped into each other. I would have banged her if I wanted to, just to piss him off but sadly….and I say this with a heavy heart…..she isn’t my type. I banged her hotter friend instead. If you scour through my archives, you will find the story about my sex encounter with her.
There are a couple of other people that I used to be close with but they cut all contact and communication with me once I became this popular sex writer. Perhaps they are Angel Gabriel’s siblings those ones. Who would blame them for not wanting to associate with a sinner? I would assume they have already booked themselves bedsitters in heaven. Maybe they’ve paid deposit as well. Good luck guys!! Say hi to Jonah when you get there. Tell him I loved how he survived inside a whale for days. That was lit!!
I have been called everything from a pervert to a lost human. The judging never ends. It’s mostly done by hypocritical of people who are more than happy to neatly tuck away their own misdemeanors and address the ways of others. It’s not surprising that a person who cheats on their partner without protection, asks for sex before giving favors or jobs, makes a woman pass out with alcohol before sleeping with her, beats their partner, backstabs their friends etc will be the first to judge Etemesi for what he writes. Sometimes even a whoring career woman whose vagina has seen more mileage than a second hand Probox will say “Huyo Etemesi huandika vitu dirty. Siezi soma.” I recently saw one of my biggest critics blatantly begging a pretty girl for sex on the comment section of a post on Kilimani Mums and Dads. Shame. If only he took time to learn how it’s done from true maestros, he wouldn’t be exhibiting such despicable acts of desperation
There’s a time I was offered the role of a presenter for a late night show on a popular radio station. The show was supposed to be about the normal dating and sex issues that the youth go through. The salary had even been agreed upon, but a holier than thou person made sure that didn’t happen. According to a reliable source, there was a a lady who hated me and she happened to be really close to the boss so she went and bad-mouthed me. She said I would bring a bad image to the company. And just like that, I didn’t get the job. How amazing was that. That lady should win a Nobel Peace prize for keeping the workplace safe from dirty people.
There are people I hate so much that I wouldn’t hesitate to punch them in the face and knock all their teeth out but you know what? I would never come between them and their money. If an enemy of mine had the opportunity to make money or grow their career and I was capable of blocking it, I wouldn’t do it. There’s nothing I respect more than other people’s hustles.
I am sure that’s not the opportunity that has evaded me because of what I write. I am sure I’ve lost a couple more opportunities because someone somewhere hated me and my content. But I don’t cry over that because I tend to get many other opportunities anyway. I keep getting contracted by local digital platforms and foreign blogs to offer my writing services. I live well and I’ve never been broke in my life. For every single person that hates me, there are three that love me and support my work. Otherwise I wouldn’t be the top writer that I am today. And my website wouldn’t be getting such huge readership.
Another problem with writing about sex is that there are people who just see the kink but fail to see the art. Serious readers keep telling me that they’ve never seen a writer with a mastery of the English language like mine – the way I play with words, the flair, the way I describe things and actions in profound detail, the way I use vocabulary, the way I infuse humors et al. But then there are casual readers who just see the sex and nothing more. They are blind to the art and the brilliance. There are those who even say I write porn. I don’t bother to correct them and tell them it’s called erotica. I let them think what they think. You cannot force a dog to eat leaves after all right?
For all the trouble, I get one really cool benefit from my writing – pussy. Every new day, there’s a new woman in my inbox, flirting with me. I rarely have to approach women nowadays. They all come . Career women, campus girls, lighskins, darksins, plus size, 1GB….you name it. It’s like a buffet and I just have to choose. I just try to approach other random women from time to time so to make sure my seduction skills remain sharp. I was even approached by a Spanish girl recently. She reads my work all the way from Cordoba, Spain. And she writes erotica too, in both Spanish and English. She even has books and all. Can you imagine that. Don’t be surprised if a year from now you see me posting pictures of my newly born interracial baby called Juan Pablo Etemesi. I guess women just love good writers. It’s even better if you are a good sex writer. I feel like I am Zayn Malik or Ryan Golsing yet I don’t even have an eighth of their popularity or wealth. I am sure my critics are choking when reading this. Woiyee!! Izeni jo!!
I’ll forever be grateful for the gift that I have and how I use it to empower other young people sexually. Writing about sex isn’t easy. You’ve probably read a few articles or stories about sex here and there and you were bored to death. Many writers are known to huff, puff and pant while trying to even touch on the subject in its relatively simple avatar. Such writers have the required words in their arsenal; but, somehow, their pens tend to melt when they embark on the journey. What we have, as a result, ranges between the clichéd and the comical.
Am I still worried that people will make assumptions about me? Not at all. I decided a long time ago that I just can’t think about that. It’s my passion to write what I write. I can’t control what other people think about it, or what conclusions they draw.
Of course, here’s my plea: you should read about sex more, too. You should read about the experiences of others. Those who don’t read never learn. You should try to know as much as you can about sex, if only to inform your own sexual life. You should try to know more about sex because you can have more pleasure, less disappointment, more clarity, more meaningful relationships.
As an individual, avoid being a hypocrite who does these things in secret but is scared to talk about them and learn lore about them. You should talk about sex because sex is an inherent part of the human experience. Talk and learn about sex and relationships. What happens when we don’t talk about it? Deep frustrations, broken relationships, illusions and disappointments, lack of ideas on how to deal with the opposite sex, assumptions that make asses of everyone, more risky behaviour, more broken hearts and more sad people.
You should know how you like your sex. You should learn how to listen to your partner(s) and give them better sex. Avoid seeing sex as ecstatic behind closed doors but absurd in the open.You should discover new techniques and ideas and ways of relating to sex. You don’t have to agree with or try everything you read, but learning about what others feel, do and think is a good way to reflect on our own behaviours, emotions and thoughts.
So yes, I’ll keep writing about sex. I’ll keep writing about sex because like any other human, I devote perhaps sixty percent of my adult waking hours to thinking about sex, and it would be dishonest to pretend otherwise in my work. I”ll keep writing about sex because I have accumulated over the years such a tremendous surplus of sexual encounters that it would be stingy of me not to re-gift some it to my readers. I’ll keep writing about sex because I am not a hypocrite. I’ll keep writing about sex because I’m really tired of having to listen to well-meaning religious folk misquoting God about how the rest of us should use our genitals. I’ll keep writing about sex because I believe literary art’s central purpose is not to pretend we don’t have bodies and their consequent needs, but to make us feel less alone with these needs. I’ll keep writing about sex because I cannot be part of a culture that thinks it’s okay to insult and hate people of another tribe but freak out at the first sign of a naked boob. And to sum it all up, I’ll keep writing about sex because it’s what I was born to do.
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