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BIG MAN, LITTLE WOMAN
by Janet Kira Lessin www.schooloftantra.com
While checking my "Planetsexy" email account, I received an IM (instant
message) from a screen name that I didn't recognize. Curious, I hesitated
but
decided to respond. The young man seemed serious and was quite engaging so I
found myself interacting with him for some time. He asked if he could send
me a
picture and I said yes and so he sent it.
When I opened the email I saw a very handsome young man, mid to late
twenties
with a body like a young Arnold Swartzenagger and a penis so large it looked
like it belonged on a donkey rather than a man. The penis was limp, not
erect
and seemed to be about two hand-fulls around and about three hand-fulls
long. I
gasped, then replied, "Keep that thing away from me. I'm too little!"
He feigned innocence, said "What? What do you mean?"
I busted him real quick and responded, "You know darn well why you sent that
picture and what I'm commenting on. You know that's the first thing one
notices
when they look at your picture. Don't tell me you don't get comments all the
time on the size of your penis."
"Well, yes, of course," He confessed. "I'm not circumcised. My mother didn't
believe in cutting."
We dialogued for a while. During the course of our interchange I learned
that he
had difficulty finding partners who could accommodate his size and the last
girlfriend he dated said "No way" when he got naked with her, grabbed her
coat
and left.
"Oh my!" I said. "That must've hurt. Does that happen often?"
"All the time. I'm alone now. My mother saw when I was a child that my penis
was
so large that she sent me to a tantrica to learn how to love a woman without
hurting her. But I fell in love with the tantrica and she too, rejected me.
I
know it was for my own good for she was with me not to be my lover, but my
teacher. And I was getting too comfortable with her, too clingy and she had
to
set me free to find my own way in the world."
"Have you fathered any children?
"Yes, three. Two are dead. They were killed in a car crash in France. The
youngest, a girl, lives with me. I live with my sister who is handicapped,
she
has cerebral palsy, and with my mother and my daughter, who is seven."
We talked for a while. I asked him a great number of questions. I'm like
that,
part therapist, part reporter. I began to feel sorry for him. His story,
which
could have been made up, seemed too complicated, too complete and he didn't
falter once or make a mistake, mixing up facts he told me later with ones
earlier. I believed him and I felt for him.
I had to go. My husband, Sasha, who is a fabulous cook, called me to come to
dinner. I told the young man goodbye and asked him to keep in touch.
I focused on dinner but my thoughts floated back to my conversation. I
couldn't
imagine being able to accommodate such a large member without it being
painful.
At the very least, it might give one a sensation of feeling very full, but
how
pleasurable would it be f*cking something as big as an arm?
"Can women take very large lingams (penises) in their yoni's (vaginas)? I
asked
Sasha.
He put on his doctor hat. "Well, a baby's head is quite large. Yes, most
women
an probably take very large penises, if they relax enough."
"Of course, relax. Yes, relax,
that's the key." I thought, still trying to
imagine fitting such a thing into my yoni and not quite able to get my head
completely around it.
Not that night but the next night later, well after I thought I'd forgotten
all
about it, I dreamed of my handsome young man. In the dream I decided to see
if
we could get it to work. Sasha, the dream Sasha, approved of our experiment
and
being the unjealous, poly-guy that he is, gave us his blessing. With that in
mind and all our ducks in a row–privacy, a nice environment, nicely
decorated,
romantic music, me and my gent proceeded.
"You have to get me drunk, stoned, something. I mean, I really need to relax
in
order to do this one." I nervously interjected, stalling for something to
get me
out of my head. Now I don't drink or do drugs, so in this dream I had to
imagine
what it would be like to relax from such things, and so pleasantly
intoxicated
and stoned, we proceeded. (Aren't dreams wonderful? You can do just about
anything there and it's all legal).
"Kiss me", I said, stopping him once again from trying to penetrate me. "You
have to get me really turned on. Better yet, please, pleasure my yoni with
your
mouth first." And since it was my dream where I was the director, producer
and
all the stars, my handsome man obliged and got me all hot and horny, ready
to
go.
We went very slowly. But when I saw the size of his thang, even though I was
drunk, stoned and incredibly horny, I still cried out, "Stop!"
"Ok, OK, one last thing," I giggled nervously, amazed at the incredible
patience
of this all-too-handsome, gorgeous man who smiled back at me, looking up to
meet
my eyes as he held one finger gently inside my yoni. "Distract me. Don't let
me
know you're actually going to do it. Just do it when I'm kissing you madly
or
something. I think that will work."
So, we proceeded to kiss and kiss, caress and fondle and after a while, we
were
making love and yes, it felt wonderful.
I woke up, amazed at what had just happened. I called my husband on our
phone/intercom system and asked him to come in and greet me to the new day,
as
is our custom.
I told Sasha about my dream and we analyzed its meanings, what it meant to
me
and all the secret psychological meanings behind each element in the dream.
Of
course all elements in the dream are aspects of me. All, everything,
including
the large penis and the other man. All are parts of myself. When I look at
the
dream I recognize that like the penis, I'm growing, larger than life. As I
heal,
evolve, grow and expand, my horizons get larger and yes, I can take it all
in,
even the frightening things and love myself in spite of it all and because
of it
all.
Still, the interaction on the IM on the net with the young man followed by
the
dream, which was rather intense, haunted me. I was not complete with
pondering
all the possibilities and intricacies of life.
I flashback and wonder who was the largest man I've ever had sex with. I've
been
blessed, I guess, because most of my lovers were fairly good sized. I've
been
with tall and short men and height does not always correlate with penis
size.
Size doesn't correlate with one's ability as a lover. And what makes a
really
good lover is their ability to connect with another person on many levels,
not
just sexually.
When I was 14, Jerry came into my life. I actually met Jerry when I was nine
in
Sunday school. I didn't particularly like him then. He was arrogant, loud
and
disruptive. I was a more serious student and he was the clown. He disturbed
my
sense of peace and quiet and I found him to be rude and obnoxious.
But it's amazing how the passing of time can change one's perspective of
another, and by the time I met Jerry again when I was 14, he was 13 and had
changed a lot. He was the best friend of my boyfriend, Kenny. Jerry at that
time, when I knew him, from 1967 - 1970, had become quite charming. He was
much
like a young John Lennon. And who, in those days didn't absolutely adore
Lennon?
Jerry could tell the best jokes. His timing was spectacular. And his goofy
red
hair, now grown long and luscious, complimented his big baby blue eyes.
One drawback was that Jerry was still quite full of himself. The summer of
1968
he bragged to Kenny while speaking very loud and clear so that me and my
girlfriends could hear, "I'm going to have all four of them before this
summer
is over." He smirked, turned and raising one eyebrow, looked directly at me,
Bootsie, Patty and Cissy. "Hmm," I thought, "No way Jose." I was going
steady
with Kenny and I didn't believe in cheating.
Well time, a magical thing, has a way of proving one wrong, even though
thoughts
were thought with the greatest intentions and promises made with the purest
of
conviction.
I recall an impromptu party in Bootsie's house. Both her parents worked, so
when
the cat was away, we played. It was broad daylight, so nothing was hidden by
shadows or dark places. "Sugar, Sugar" by the Archies played on the stereo.
I
hadn't been paying attention when all of the sudden Jerry, strutted front
and
center right in close proximity to my line of vision and whipped out his
erect
penis! I can't for the life of me remember the exact words, but apparently
Patty
had challenged him to prove his point and he rose to the occasion to show
her
just what she was missing!
Shocked, I covered my eyes. But curious, I found my fingers parting and
there it
was, the largest thing I'd ever seen a few inches from my face!
At that time I hadn't really seen a great many penises. In fact, I saw my
brother once when the bathroom door opened before he was ready. But I really
didn't get a good look. Besides that, I had seen my boyfriend and I'm
certain he
was just the right size for a typical 13 year old. But Jerry was indeed
something else. And his boasting and bragging was something to brag about.
After that, I couldn't get the sight of his huge penis out of my mind.
No, Jerry didn't "get" me that summer. But he did sneak around from one
house to
another. While he was officially dating Bootsie, we discovered, years after
the
fact, that Jerry catted around. He, in the course of one day, would visit
with
Patty first, since she lived closest to him. Then when he struck out there,
he
would cross over the street to see Bootsie. Once done there he'd go back
over
and down the alley to see Cissy . After visiting her, he'd come up the alley
to
see me. Now I really don't know what happened at the other households. I
know
for sure that Bootsie and Jerry got together sexually because Bootsie
eventually
got pregnant. As for the others, I'll never know for sure because we never
ever
talked about the down and dirty details.
I was sexually frustrated because Kenny and I were not having full sexual
relations because we both feared me getting pregnant. This was the late 60s,
pre
Rowe vs Wade days and if one got pregnant, they usually carried it to term
or
risked a very highly dangerous back street abortion and possible death. So a
lot
of my classmates and girlfriends in those days began families very young,
some
as young as 14 or so gave birth secretly somewhere and returned back after a
"vacation" to live out their lives in shame and disgrace.
I didn't have a sense of boundaries back then. It would take years of
therapy to
understand that I was and still am to a degree a Pleaser. I had been
socialized
to please, to watch out for danger because I was raised in a very dangerous,
sexually aggressive, abusive neighborhood where things happened behind
closed
doors and dark alleyways that still to this day remain hidden. The part I've
recovered through years of intensive therapy are certainly just the tip of
the
iceberg. Many things have gone to the grave with my parents generation.
But I didn't know what went into my making and affected my decisions in
those
days. All I knew is I felt horny, longed to be made love to with the full
passion of adults with no fear of pregnancy, social shame, stigma or
repercussions of any kind and my reality in those days was anything but what
I
fantasized or imagined life should be.
Jerry must have sensed my weakening as he came onto me stronger and
stronger. As
much as my mind said no, my heart said it was wrong as I mustn't cheat on
Kenny
and Bootsie, my body betrayed me and my hormones raged.
Finally, (we all knew it would happen sooner or later because Jerry and
Bootsie
did not heed any of our warnings), Bootsie got pregnant.
One cold November day coming back from cheerleading practice, I came across
Jerry. He was sobbing, real sobs of genuine pain that wretched his body
visibly,
even from across the street. I walked over to him. "Jerry, what happened?"
I just got back from a meeting with my parents and Bootsie's parents. We
wanted
to get married, to raise the baby together. They refuse to sign for us and
they
forbid us to ever see each other ever again. I just signed papers giving up
all
rights to the baby."
"Oh Jerry", I cried, my heart felt as if it had been pierced by an arrow. We
had
played so well together. We played at sex, love, being grown up and full of
the
love of life, baby boom flower children of the sixties. Now reality came
crashing down. Childhood's end had come upon us, far too soon for our golden
age
to be over.
I realized I was absolutely freezing. I had to keep moving or die. "We've
got to
get out of this cold." I announced.
"Here, let's go into this car".
We were behind an auto repair shop and I began to protest, "We can't do
that,
it's locked..."
But halfway through my words which were being stolen away by the increasing
wind
just as I began to say them, Jerry reached down and the door opened. A part
of
me said, "I'm doomed" while the other part said, "You just have to help him.
His
heart is breaking in two."
I realize now writing this, that part of me participated in the conspiracy
to
get me just what I needed despite the other part who thought she wanted what
she
wanted.
Inside, the temperature while cold was bearable. I held him as he sobbed. I
don't remember all the words at this time, nearly 41 years after the event.
But
I recall that his pain was convincing. He begged for me to take him inside
my
body, to make love to him. He said that if I made love to him, he would feel
better and be able to get over this and feel like going on. I knew he meant
it.
This level of pain and passion could not be a line of rap just to get into
my
pants. He felt it and I felt it. And while he spoke the words to convince me
to
do something that was beyond my normal morals and ways of being, what we
were
about to do was indeed for the highest good for all.
I slipped off my undies. "Larry, promise me, you won't come inside me.
Promise
now. Please!"
"I promise" He replied. Sincerity echoed in his voice.
He knelt on the floor, hard, erect. I saw his giant penis and looked away,
afraid that I'd become fearful and run away. Amazed, he slid right inside
me. I
was not a virgin as Kenny had deflowered me during the course of our going
steady. But I was ready, hot, horny and in love, not with Jerry, but in love
with love, in love with life and ready to accept my woman hood which had
been
frustrated and flustered for far too long.
I ejaculated.
"Jerry! You came in me!"
"No, I didn't, I swear!"
I made him pull out. I began sobbing. I was terrified, "Now I'll be pregnant
too. Just like Bootsie! You'll have two children in the world and I'll be
forever shamed, an unwed mother!"
I knew, even at such a young age, I could not marry a man I didn't love. I
cared
for Jerry, but I definitely was not in love with him. Also, I knew as I
spoke
those words that if I indeed conceived Jerry's child, I would carry it to
term,
keep it and raise it on my own.
More terrifying than even that was the shame of cheating on my friends.
Bootsie
trusted me. While Kenny and I had already broken up, I still felt a sense of
loyalty to him and didn't want to "cheat" on him even though it really
wouldn't
technically be cheating.
I went home, morified. I avoided everyone and crept into my bed. I was the
pits,
the slime of the Earth. I sweated out that month like no other. That was the
happiest period I ever had.
Jerry and I tried to make love one more time. I know, you'd think I'd learn.
The
drama had passed. I got over my shame. Curiosity took hold and time and
circumstances made it right. His folks were gone and he invited me to his
attic
bedroom. The second time I was too afraid. I saw the giant schlong and I
just
couldn't relax enough to get it in. I think we got the head in and nothing
more.
I made him back away. We never talked about it again and in fact, we stopped
being friends.
Sex and shame. Wouldn't it be nice to have a world free of sexual shame?
Looking back, I realized I had my first ejaculatory orgasm at the very young
age
of 14! In fact, my first orgasm with a "man" was an ejaculatory one. At that
moment a tantrica was born. Funny how things that seem so small and
insignificant when they happen are actually some of the most important
things in
your life. My orgasm at 14 has affected my entire life and still is relevant
all
these years later. In fact, I now teach women how to ejaculate, how to
eliminate
fear and set themselves free. When a woman overcomes her emotional blocks
and
issues, lets go and ejaculates, she's accessing her birthright, her
ejaculatory
(amrita) orgasm. Most women don't realize they can ejaculate because they've
never even heard of an amrita orgasm. Others are shut down and repressed,
unable
to ejaculate because of deep emotional issues or programming. Now I've come
full
circle.
It wasn't until years later I realized Jerry hadn't lied. He was an
honorable
man and kept his promise.
I have his email. Remember, the young man with the large penis. I'm
polyamorous,
so it's perfectly ok with my dear husband to continue this thread. Would I
be
recovering a piece of my soul if I could achieve now at 55 what my 14 year
old
feared and dreaded, but wanted more than anything else. If only I could have
been true to myself. But I was so split, shattered, the right hand didn't
know
what the left hand did.
Integrated, I'm more conscious, aware and centered than ever before.
Curious, I
ponder the road not traveled. Cautious, I wonder if I'm opening Pandora's
box.
Wise I know I can never go back. Present, I move forward to new horizons
while I
recover lost pieces of my soul and assemble that eternal puzzle of myself
that
amazes even me even after all this time. |
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