Now, Suffolk Council is bringing hope to millions of frustrated men – and their WAGs, by providing directions, straight to the G-spot!
Trigger Warning: Male sexual inadequacy, no mention of transgendersim, poor grammar.
Men! At last! Directions to your lady’s G-spot!
Yes, that’s right! For millennia, sexually inadequate men have been searching for the mysterious, some might say, mythological ‘Grafenberg spot’, or ‘G-spot’ – a sexually sensitive area located somewhere inside a woman’s vagina. The elusive G-spot, which is allegedly positioned about 1-2 inches inside the vaginal opening, feels raised or bumpy and swells slightly during arousal – presuming that the man’s penis is long enough to reach it.
According to the new guidance, the holy grail of female sexual pleasure can be found somewhere on the A14 heading north to Norwich via Bury Road in Ipswich. Easy! Taking up the challenge, I invited my wife to accompany me in my 2006 Chrysler PT cruiser convertible, in search of the elusive ‘ladies’ love location’. She reminded me that it was a Wednesday but agreed on the condition that it wouldn’t take too long as she had a bit of a headache, so off we set.
Road to nowhere
After hitting the A14 as instructed, I immediately realized that I wasn’t entirely certain where I was heading. As usual, I was a little nervous and unsure of myself – lacking in self-confidence you might say, but being the giving person I am, I was utterly determined to find the spot. After about 30 seconds, I asked my wife if she was enjoying herself, to which she replied “Of course, dear.” but I must admit, I wasn’t entirely convinced as she seemed more interested in the lack of progress being made on the roadworks at the roundabout we were skirting.
‘Perseverance is everything’ I kept telling myself as I plugged away, and after a few early wrong turns, I thought I may finally have found what I was looking for. I gazed deeply into my wife’s eyes, trying to gauge her reaction, desperate for a sign that we had, at last, found the location… but nothing. What I had thought was the spot turned out to be an advertising hoarding for G-Star Raw clothing available at the Commercial Road Retail Park in Ipswich. Another false dawn.
Take the ring road
Despite my early optimism, after about three-and-a-half minutes, when I saw my wife yawn out of the corner of my eye, I realized that I was on a hiding to nothing. In one desperate, final push, I put my foot on the accelerator in the hope that I might hit the spot by fluke alone, but… nah. When my wife took out the packed lunch and offered me a pickled onion, I knew the game was up.
G-spot? My arse.
Hmmmmm. Now there’s a thought!
