the D**k and the Pu**y(a hormy story)

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I grew up with one of my male
cousins.
His name…Bobo.
Bobo and I were both six years of
age and well, the maid usually
showered us together.
One day, I got into a fight with my
neighbour, 8 years old Sandra.
While she called me names like
‘monkey’, ‘lion’ and ‘vulture’, I had
just one line for her.
“Your navel is bigger than Bobo’s
peepee.”
Though my parents made me pay
dearly for that statement, Bobo
little balls I saw was just THE
PEEPEE to me.
Weeks after that incident, I sat in
the large garden behind my house,
challenging my uncle to a fine
game of ludo.
He wore nothing but an orange
boxers and he sat carelessly.
Suddenly, our dice dropped on the
floor.
As I bent to pick it up, that was
when I saw it from one corner of
his flare boxers.
A one eyed snake staring at me.
IYAMA!!!
My tiny heart froze with fear.
”Uncle, I don’t want to play this
ludo anymore”
I ran back inside leaving his mouth
agape.
That night, the queen could not
sleep.
Naijasinglegirl needed to satisfy her
curiosity.
I needed to know the similarities
and differences between bobo and
uncle’s own.
Morning came and I kept tabs on
uncle.
A wall adjoined our narrow toilet
and bathroom.
He moved into the bathroom, I slid
into the toilet.
Three minutes later, I began
climbing…
At the top of the wall, I got my
reward.
I saw it all.
The balls, the pole and the thick
forest.
”JESUS CHRIST”
I held myself from screaming that
name loud.
What I saw was nothing but THE
p***s
Years later, I saw a p0rn movie. The
wild blonde girls were screaming ‘I
wanna ride that cock’. I went to my
window and peeped at our
innocent christmas cock tied to a
stake.
Nothing in the cock’s body bore
any resemblance to what I saw in
the movie. Or is it called cock
because both of them rise in the
morning?
Either ways, I came to the
conclusion whenever I travel to the
land of obodo oyinbo or if I ever
find myself dating a white guy, I’ll
call it THE COCK.
I grew older and I met one Igbo
boy. We spent our nights making
MTN night calls. One particular
night, the sound of his breathing
was almost disrupting my network.
He told me his body is just doing
him ‘somehow’.
“How?” I asked in concern.
“My prick is hard jor” he replied.
THE PRICK, it sure had a new but…
very ugly name.
I was flipping through the pages of
a Vanguard Newspaper when I
came across a column on men’s
health.
A man in his early 50’s had a small
complaint.
”His wife has refused to suck his
balls.”
THE BALLS?? Is that what you are
meant to call it once you approach
50?
Recently, I was caught up in the
buzz of social networks. When I
joined twitter, I saw things like
#teambigd k in people’s bio.
I saw tweets like ‘me be skinny
guy but my d k long’.
In every fifteen tweets I scrolled
past, the word ‘d k’ appeared at
least once.
And then I had a one minute
silence for my neighbour’s new
born bearing the name d k.
I have long accepted on social
networks, they call it THE d**k.
Who came up with these names
and what name should I be
expecting?