A writer (Sandra Dairo) who believes that women should
be more open about their sexuality and
she encourages them to share their
stories, has written yet another piece of
her experience with a huge 'John Thomas',
read on and enjoy!


Long before I had an active sex life, I had
heard ladies go and on about the orgasmic
bliss that should be expected when sleeping
with a man with a big junk. The guys would
either talk about how big they were (you
would think they were packing yam tubers) or
whine that they wished they were bigger. So,
at the back of my mind, for a long time, I
wondered what ‘big’ was.

For years after my sex life ‘took off’ I was
with guys who I had to admit were just
average sized. I say they were average
because when the big D’ discussion came up
among my friends, I knew I have never come
close to having the enormous member they
described. For a long time, I believed I was
missing out.
My sex partners satisfied me fine, but
imagine spending years eating a cake at a
particular store where you believed they sold
the best cakes, and then loads of people come
to tell you there is a better store that sold the
best cake somewhere else; you know the cake
you have been having is awesome, but you
immediately begin to doubt it.
At the very least, you will be curious. That
was what this was like for me. I was fine with
what I had, but I was curious. Apparently,
when you are really curious about something,
the universe gives you what you want.


When I met Femi, it was a pretty interesting
encounter. Femi was over 6ft tall and I could
not believe he was interested in me. Did I
mention I was barely 5ft tall? I am extremely
attracted to tall guys but they hardly ever
approached me so when Femi did, it was a
big surprise. I won’t bore you with the ‘how
we met’ story because that is not the point of
this piece. Let’s skip over to the bedroom
part.


So, when Femi and I got to the dating stage
where we were going to do the deed, I did
what any girl who knows she will be getting
laid would do. I was shaved, primped and
plucked. I wore pretty and matching
underwear. And I made sure my *ahem*
parts are ready for action.
After a hot and heavy makeout session in his
bedroom, it was time for the clothes to come
off. Mine came off first, then his. He pulled
down his pants and underwear. I did a double
take.
You know how I said something about a yam
tuber earlier? This was pretty darn close. I
literally gasped in shock as I lay there in
nothing but my panties.
This kind of package should come with a
warning. I could not decide if I wanted to
flee, or if I should touch it to see if it was
real. I went with the latter.


“Wow,” I said. “You should have at least given
me some sort of heads up.”
He gave me that smile. You know that one
guys give you that says “yeah baby, you know
you want it.”


Did I want it? I was not sure. Heck, I was not
even sure what to do with it. Was I supposed
to bow? (It was really intimidating) Do I pitch
a tent underneath it (It was big enough to
serve as a shade) or do I just admit that I was
way in over my head and make my escape?
Nope. I wanted to see what the fuss was
about.
I continued stroking with my hands until I
figured I should go about it another way.
Then I went with MouthAction, (sorry for the
clinical term, guys, but I have to keep things
PG) but when my jaw started to protest, I
gave up.

‘What in the world do you do with a massive
penis?’ I found myself wondering. Anyway,
after a little bit of awkwardness, I figured we
should get down to business.
Have you tried trying to stick a pen in a
keyhole? I mean, you can get the tip in but
the rest is almost impossible. Yes, that was
what this was. I tried everything. I turned this
way and that. Bent over forward and
backwards. Legs so wide apart that I was
basically doing an air split (if there were any
such thing). Perhaps it was due to my
nervousness, but somehow, I could not
“receive” him. We even tried lube just in case
this was my fault. Nothing.


“Seriously, this is not working,” I said, after
about 30 minutes of maneuvering my body
and his. If you kept trying to stick a pen in
the keyhole, you will give up, eventually,
right? So, after he saw me off to the taxi
park, we shared an awkward good bye and I
never saw him again. I mean, really, what was
I supposed to say? “Your duck (switch vowels,
please) is way too big, but can we be
buddies?”

Since then, I wondered, was it just me? Did I
go about it wrong? Or does my biological
make-up come with a size limit? The ladies
that love the big ones, how do they do it? Or
are they just lying?
Anyway, from then on, I make sure to preach
to my friends that I will take an average Joe
over big Jon any day. Sex is supposed to be
fun, not a damn assignment.
So, kudos to the ladies who enjoy these
jumbo-sized john thomases and extra kudos
to the men who have to lug it around.

Buhari come see oh