The Arjay Conception

Which do women prefer–the size of the boat, or the motion in the ocean? When we are having a general conversation with our girlfriends, the answer is “a”. So, let me tell you about him.

Some women may be sitting here thinking that they have met King Dingaling. He’s the guy that has you fantasizing during your office meetings. You try to stay focused but the condensation between your legs has you sliding around on the chair and shaking your leg.

If the guy’s penis isn’t bigger than your average banana, that’s not him.

I first met King Dingaling in my freshman year in college. Such a short, skinny boy he was, with the voice of a bass drum. Although I could barely understand him when he talked, his whispers vibrated from my ear to my clitoris. Who would have known that he packed 12 inches between his two stick legs? I should have been warned.

When we seized our moment and he whipped out the monster, I was thinking, “This can’t be real.“ I tried to put a condom on it and it rolled a little more than halfway down the shaft; it was stretched as tight as a balloon on a watermelon.

I was juiced up at the thought of conquering this beast, but frightened by the thought of being ripped to pieces and having to explain it to the health department gynecologist. I grabbed the reigns and eased myself down. I can only remember getting about half of it in. When he tried to pump in order to penetrate deeper, it just wouldn’t happen. So we were stuck with some shallow movements. I couldn’t even rock. Imagine riding a triceratops!

I decided it wasn’t working out for me and I waved the white flag and descended. And guess what he asked next??? No, not to put it in my ass–that ain’t hap’nin’! He asked me to kiss it. I lowered my head to greet the master and we met eye to eye. I kissed it–but that wasn’t exactly what he wanted me to do. But that’s all I could manage because the thought of encircling my mouth on the beast had me pre-egagulating.

My second King Dingaling was a few years later in my twenties. He was a tall, skinny fella. And the dick was a beauty. Not 12 inches like the other guy (maybe about 10), but the girth on this stallion was like a 2 inch smile. He came with his own protection, Magnums I reckon. I was better able to slay this dragon although rear entry positions (not anal sex) were a bit uncomfortable.

I came while on my back with this King Dingaling. A near impossible feat for me at the time. It hit me so quick, I wasn’t sure if it was an orgasm or not because it rippled so slowly. (Yes, I am part of the blessed minority that can have orgasms from vaginal intercourse.) Another time, and another position, I came in 2 minutes. This was like the miracle drug.

This baby was privileged enough to meet my mouth and I was able to maneuver it carefully (to avoid my gag reflex) with the assistance of my two skilled hands and some tricky secret moves.

A couple of years later, I ran into another King Dingaling. This man was fairly tall and slim as well. I wasn’t prepared again. I pulled out my trusty bag of condoms, only to feel like we were putting it on a water buffalo. He said it was “choking” him! Oh, but I tackled this monster like a champ.

It was like heaven. It felt so good filling my space and maybe stretching me a bit. The length caressed me all the way to my cervix. In fact, he probably elongated my vagina. I loved this man.

Perhaps a decade later, I ran into the original King Dingaling again. Over the years I had fantasized about him and discussed him with my friends. I would always think about how his girlfriend, and wife, must have had the biggest pussy (wow, I said it!) in the world. How the hell did she have sex with King Kong all these years and still be able to produce children and have a healthy life?

Or maybe all these years, I had the wrong image in my head. I was a tender age, in my late teens, when I first discovered the King. Maybe all of these years it was an optical illusion that permeated my memory.

The moment arrived and I was so nervous that I almost canceled our meeting. He warmed me up really well; I needed that to calm my jitters. When he whipped it out, it was surely as large as I remember. A full 12 inches and 1.5 inch girth that stood in stark contrast to his cat-thin, muscular stature.

I knew I should be careful so I kept my body guarded with my hands so that the power of the thrust would not cause a maximum amount of injuries. And it fit. It fit all too well because I was determined that after all this time, I was queen. The feeling was magnificent, and I knew if I continued to handle him like a pro, he would ask for more; but I had a limit.

I tried my best to avoid any rear entry position, however we all know it to be one of the greatest finishes–so I couldn’t resist. I had to know what it felt like face down, ass up. Holy shit!

Okay, now I know I shouldn’t have done that! It was just too much. I had to position myself in such a way that the penetration was angled–directed toward a corner in my vagina, and not the center of the cervix. Pain is pleasure, sometimes, but not when the feeling is sharp, versus dull. He got a little carried away and I thought felt my uterus cramping. But by then, it was over.

And yes, as expected. I sustained some “injuries” that subsided by the time I returned to my own hotel room. We lied in bed talking about how great it was and how we both looked the same as before. Yep, his dick was the same as before.

Now, I want to give props to my King Dingalings. They are a blessed breed indeed. If you haven’t found your “G Spot,” find yourself a King. It is hard to spot them, but so far my correlation has been skinny guys that are 5′8″ and taller. Other than that, which is probably coincidental, you either have to ask, or wait to find out.

When I am seeking one, I just ask, “How much are you packing?” or, “Can I get a pic?” My guys have always been rather honest–but even King Dingaling may mislead you by underestimating himself. Humility is a good sign. We all know men that advertise their dick and they don’t be about shit, or they can’t fuck.

Looking for clues can be an utter disappointment though. If you’re looking at a dick-print you may be wasting your time. Sometimes, the flaccid penis pales in size to the bone-strait edition. And other times, that pole you see in his gym shorts may remain as weak and flexible as a pipe cleaner. That’s not the type you need (and pipe cleaners are for elementary school).

The criteria is an erect penis at least the size of large banana. If you’re lucky, it’ll have the girth of the fattest pickle. You want it to stand at attention, however, the bigger it is, the heavier it is–and it may not stand strait. A great sign is if it flops to his stomach when he’s sitting. Just a plain delicious sight!

If you don’t get very moist, you’re going to have a major problem. Friction and King Dingaling don’t mix. You can buy whatever you need if your natural self isn’t in overdrive. As a matter of fact, just have the lube ready anyway. Be proactive!

And be prepared with extra large condoms. Some Kings can fit a regular-sized one, but it may be more than snug and uncomfortable. Tight condoms have the tendency to start rolling up from the base–and you don’t have time to waste with this!

My real preference, when the girls are not around???? I pass up King Dingaling for the man with a decent size, nice girth, rock-hard and desire to please. I love the motion in the ocean that I can’t necessarily get with the King. The large size can be restrictive in movement. I like to toss and turn and flip and roll and it is easier, and more pleasurable, for me to do this with a less massive size. Besides, if his heads aren’t so big, he tends to be more teachable.

I still dream and fantasize about King Dingaling. He just touches you in an unforgettable way. I hope for every woman that before you settle down with one person (man or woman!), you experience the King first. If you’re scared, try some dildos first in order to ease into it. If you’re already committed, you can do the same experiment with your man, if he is less of the jealous type, and more concerned with your satisfaction.

But be careful, you may never go back! Long live the King…Dingaling, that is!