Dora the Explorer and the Pink Destroyer: WHEN MASTURBATION GOES WRONG

This quarantine period has come with a great deal of free time, adventures and a lot of mind boggling vibes. I have seen people count grains of rice, pluck sporangiophores off strawberries, read the Bible backwards and also engage in unorthodox nighttime activities; some of which I will be mum about till my last breath. Out of those there is one I will share just as I promised the concerned party I would if only for comic relief.

A few nights back I received a distress call from a very important friend of mine. Let's call her Dora the Explorer. It was around 2am and I was comfortably tucked in between my squishy 6 by 6 sheets dreaming of unicorns and other wonder-like creatures in a post apocalyptic utopia devoid of human existence.

They say that dreams tend to derive themselves from what we watch, speak of and think about before we sleep. I had been reading up on conspiracies and theories involving population control, a new world order and a planet earth with fewer human beings; or rather subjects. Prior to that I had watched a Chinese film in which ninjas floated off buildings like feathers.

Anyway the phone rings; not once, not twice but thrice. Nowadays I normally let it charge by the money plant on the table in the South Eastern corner of my room. Feng Shui experts say that this is the best location for a money plant and Easterners tend to be woke so who am I to disagree? My lazy form finds its way to the phone and Dora is breathing frantically on on the other end of it.

Dora: "Niaje babes, uko home? Aki I have a problem Gaiii..." (insert Njugush the comedian's voice)

"Can you find a way to come over?"

Me: "Kwani mumekosana na 'Mutua' tena? I thought mans was out of the picture ama ni nini tena?"

Dora: "Hapana babes," she whispers frantically. "Aki just kuja. It's a matter of life and death".

I leave the warm safety of my bed albeit begrudgingly, sanitize my hands and put on my coat before making my way to her place. (Don't ask me where and don't ask me how)

Upon arrival I find that Dora has fixed herself up real good this time round. A dildo, yes a dildo had broken in half and was stuck somewhere deep inside the warm crevices of her newly shaven Bermuda triangle. How do I know it was warm? I will get to that part.

So here I am, both flabbergasted and amused; towering over Dora as she lies astride part embarrassed and part apprehensive. My first instinct? To sanitize again....

I lower my head and step back for a minute. Then with the precision of a sharp shooter I examine my soon-to-be target.

Me: "Are you in pain?"

Dora: "Not really. It's just uncomfortable."

Me: "Sasa hapa nitakusaidiaje? Should we call a doctor?"

Dora shakes her head. I sanitize again....

"Uko na tweezer ama tongs hivi?"

Dora: "Ngai... Kwani unataka kufanyaa?"

Me: "Zile gloves unakuwanga nazo za hosi ziko wapi?"

Dora points to the bottom drawer of her dresser.

A scream, a couple howls and a few midwife-like procedures later, the pink destroyer is out the front door. I sanitize once more.... She pulls up her robe, we look at each other awkwardly and then laugh out loud. What are sisters for anyway?

Moral of the story? None really. If you must play those types of games however kindly invest in proper toys. Better still get yourself something that will go limp rather than break after pleasuring. What quarantine has brought together, let no one put asunder. Unless of course it's a pink destroyer inside Dora the Explorer. ✌🏾