The Big O


Maybe it was the smell of our sweat stained minimal pieces of clothing clinging to our bodies for support. Or perhaps that we’d run out of water and had to travel another 2 hours before we could get some. Everybody was restless. I was trying to finish “The world is full of married men” but not even Jackie Collins’ world of fiction could hold my concentration. The weekend trip to the south had been fun, but tiring.

I scanned the room with a lazy glance, and almost smiled. Four girls littered in a minibus with nonchalant expressions. Mandy took off her bra, massaged her chest briefly and let out a long satisfying sigh as if the bra had been hindering her oxygen intake all this while. We all smiled

“Fuck it!” Naaya exclaimed and followed Mandy’s lead. Adole giggled and looked in my direction as if to suggest we do the same. I gave her an “it’s-just-your-bra-you’re-taking-off-not-a-topless-beach-party-so-stop-giving-me-that-look” look but she obviously didn’t get it because the silly girl was still giggling at me.

Five minutes later; if our nipples could talk they would be teasing each other about how erect they looked.

“So, y’all have experienced the big O right?” Naaya asked

Naaya is the life of the party. Naaya is the random zap of energy that pivots into every door uninvited, and yet no one wants her to leave. She travels with laughter in her loins; with big brown eyes that are almost pleading and simultaneously daring you to love her.

The girls shrugged and smiled sheepishly. I was going to say I was sure I had experienced whatever they were smiling about if only I knew what “big O” was but Mandy’s words squeezed my voice box shut.

“oh yes… “ she purred. “The last time I did, I was breathless for five minutes and I wanted to tuck my face into his shoulder till thy kingdom come. That shit racks your body like you’re being exorcised.”

“Wait. What?” the look on my face was a bewildered one. What the hell was big O?

And nobody clearly heard me because I got no response.

Mandy looks like the creator carved her face in the middle of a mischievous grin. And she rocked the look hard.

“That boy does not stint on befornication.  He is the truth!”

“Lucky bastard. Only had the big O twice and both times took me by surprise. The rest of the time? I’m enjoying the act” Adole’s tiny voice stained my ears

“Oh boy” Naaya quirked “I’m sure I have seat on the high table of the big O. There was this one time it felt so unbelievably good, if he’d asked me to milk his prostate for a living I wouldn’t hesitate. That! that was squirting day” she ended with a satisfying smile

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU PEOPLE REFERRING TO? ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT COMING? O IS FOR ORGASM?”

Yes, that was a completely surprised me who had to resort to screaming to get someone to answer me.

Wide eyes stared at me, scrutinizing and measuring me like a washed off blood stain on a favourite dress. I stared back in equal strides. Still dumbfounded that I have friends who could find words embedded within themselves to construct a sentence with milk and prostate in it.

Naaya killed the silence.

“Oh my God. Idiot! What else would it stand for?”

Mandy and Adole were giggling. The idiots

“How am I supposed to know?”

Naaya was still looking at me like I was a lab rat. “I can’t believe you” she said.

“If I asked you how come it was called gspot your stupid brain would know, yet you don’t know big O is a common phrase for orgasm.”

I would’ve said she was a dumbo for not knowing it was Gräfenberg who discovered the spot, hence; gspot. But something told me to shut up.

“So have you?”

“Have I?”

“Experienced the big O?”

“Um, I think I have an extra bottle of water in my bag. Anybody thirsty?”

I readied my ribs for the jabbing it was about to receive in an attempt to get me to talk about my female anatomy and whether it had had a totally silent but crazy loud big O. Or not.

the struggle

“the struggle” by hanson

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