Very Interesting Article!! A must read

I had been waiting for this day for so long, probably, I’d say from the day I was born. I consider myself a very sexual person, always been curious about sex.

I remember one time I was around four years old or thereabouts, my late grandma, who visited occasionally, had walked in on me grinding happily against the leg of my bed. I had been so lost in my own passion, it had taken me a few minutes to realize someone was there until she finally screamed my name in full. ‘Omotolanimi!’, her usually low voice shouted. I turned so fast I almost broke my neck.

Not sure if I was embarrassed at being caught or just plain shocked she could talk that loudly, but I remember just standing there staring at her. She rushed over and grabbed me, talking fast, muttering things I barely understood, calling for my parents to come. I don’t remember so clearly what transpired after, but I know my parents hadn’t taken it up with me, nor had I been scolded.

Knowing my overly studious mother well, I’d reckon she probably explained it away as child masturbation, a fairly normal habit most kids displayed. I only remember my older brother, Dapo looking at me with what seemed like a mix of disgust and curiosity.

My bad habit continued as I grew older and at age 11, I advanced to voyeurism, thanks to our teenage house help and Dapo. Not sure now which of them made the first move seeing as they were almost the same age, but they sure did have a good time together every time mom and dad were at work.

How or when I discovered them is a little unclear now, but I sure loved creeping to Dapo’s room to watch them make love through the tiny keyhole on his door. They were only 13 years old at the time, but their moaning far surpassed anything my curious self had ever seen or read about. I’d touch myself and moan along quietly – careful not to get caught – to the rhythm of their tune.

Unfortunately for me, Ngozi, the house help didn’t really have a thing for little girls, so all I got the day I confronted her with what I knew was a little pat in my vagina and a warning not to spill on them. I wanted more so I had her squeeze and suck on my little breasts. It felt like heaven, but I knew then and there that women were not for me either.

I wanted to feel that huge manly part that went in between a woman’s widespread legs. I wanted to taste it, to know why they so greedily stuffed it in their mouths. Did it taste like ice cream? Was it all soft and fluffy or hard as stone?

About a year later, my curiosity had gotten the better of me, and I started dating a handsome 14-year-old named Michael. Michael was as curious as me, and in no time we had done everything but actual penetration.

Sadly, the penis wasn’t as tasty as I’d imagined. His was also really huge so I think I lost the courage and excitement to know what it would feel like buried inside of me somewhere along the line.

I kept on delaying the inevitable until my 13th birthday. Sex was Michael’s ‘birthday gift’ to me and he didn’t care whether I wanted it or not. I honestly was okay with him just licking and salivating on my down below, but he was tired of doing just that and wanted us to take things a step further.

After my little party at home, with a few classmates and family present, I went over to his place as usual, where he stayed with his much older brother who worked really late, giving us enough time to do whatever we wanted.

We got undressed as usual and I took him in my mouth the way he liked. As always, I was done in less than two minutes, while he screamed loudly and poured himself all over my mouth and face, something I didn’t quite enjoy as much as he did. He jumped tiredly in bed and rested for about 30 minutes, after which he started touching me again as I lay beside him.

I started getting all excited as expected, giving in to the feel of his hand inside my panties, until he mentioned it was time. I gulped and looked at his already engorged penis. How could that thing get inside my body? I guess seeing it on TV is far different from seeing it live, and besides, my brother, Dapo’s hadn’t been anywhere near as big as Michael’s.

I wish someone had prepared me for what was to come.