What it is like being married to a person who is simply too well-endowed. With brutal honesty, BRIDGET ZYKA reveals how intercourse with a person twice as huge as regular has affected her entire life…

Like many women, I have one close girlfriend, Lexi, who I discuss absolutely everything with. And yes, to any men reading this, that very much includes our husbands.

Whether it’s a moan about them not putting the plates in the dishwasher or our astonishment when they manage to remember our wedding anniversary, for years we’ve shared every little detail of our lives. We laugh about it all and we’re incredibly supportive of each other.

But there’s one topic of which I steer well clear. I just don’t think my friend (or anyone, really) will understand.

And that’s the fact that my husband, Aldo, is so well-endowed that it causes serious problems for our sex life. I did confide in Lexi about this, once, back in 2015 when Aldo and I first got together.

‘It’s a bit awkward…’ I said. But the look on her face was one of jealousy. ‘You lucky thing!’ she said.

She started to make a suggestive comment – but I quickly stopped her.

I’d only been dating Aldo for a few months at that point but I knew that we could really have something special. And that meant I’d started to contemplate the size of his penis with a feeling a little like panic.

I’d quickly discovered that being ‘well hung’ is not the winning lottery ticket to orgasm-fuelled sex.

Instead, if we got carried away I’d be left feeling, well, delicate for days afterwards. I was confiding in Lexi because I was hoping for sympathy, but really, her reaction was no surprise.

After all, we’re conditioned to believe that bigger is better. So women might think they envy me, having more of my husband than I know what to do with at times. But, hand on heart, there are intimate moments when I just grit my teeth and bear it.

It’s impacted not just our sex life but our whole relationship. After sex, Aldo is looking for reassurance that he has performed well, that I have really enjoyed myself.

But sometimes (depending on the positions we’ve attempted) the last thing I want to do is praise his prowess.

I’d rather pop a hot water bottle on my lower abdomen and take a paracetamol to ease the discomfort it can cause. Sometimes it could be more painful than it was enjoyable. I haven’t dared raise the topic with anyone else since mentioning it to my friend – I haven’t even talked about it with my doctor, since I don’t see what they could do to help.

You might wonder why I, a married 43-year-old mother of two, would open up about this very personal issue now. Isn’t it more dignified to keep quiet?

But I want other women to know the truth. And why not? After all, women have to put up with just about every part of our bodies being publicly scrutinised.

Judgments about our breasts, bottoms and even our vaginas are an everyday occurrence. So surely it’s right we discuss male genitalia just as freely? It’s important that couples know there isn’t a one-size-fits-all penis or vagina. Because when there’s a mismatch, it can cause all sorts of physical problems – and emotional misunderstandings. In every other way, Aldo and I could have been made for each other. He is physically perfect: at 6ft he’s tall, dark and handsome.

He works out, he’s funny and charming. We met in a Covent Garden bar nine years ago and it was pretty much love (and lust) at first sight for both of us.

Interestingly, given it’s something men are supposed to be proud of, Aldo didn’t boast about his size when we met and didn’t mention it at all before we made love.

Which made it rather a shock when we first became intimate. I spent the next day happy but in some discomfort, walking like a penguin. It was only after we’d had sex several times, with no reduction in the soreness I felt the next day, that it dawned on me what I would be dealing with each time we had sex.

According to the British Journal of Urology, the average male penis size when flaccid is 3.61ins long and 5.16ins when erect. Aldo is more than twice that at 11ins. Researchers have found that the vaginal canal is, on average, only 3.5ins deep and although it is designed to stretch and accommodate a man during sex, there are limits.

While I realised early on that Aldo, who works in construction, was ‘the one’, I also quickly knew that if we were going to go the distance we’d have to be careful about our sex life, the angles and positions we chose. But how do you bring up such a sensitive subject?

I was raised in a Catholic household in Ireland and the birds and the bees conversation simply didn’t happen. Everything I’d learnt about sex was out of books and from talking to cousins.

When I was at Trinity College Dublin studying IT and business management, I did go into a sex shop. I got a bit of a shock when I saw all the sex toys in so many different shapes and sizes.

Throughout my 20s, working in the male-dominated IT industry and living in London, I had boyfriends and one or two flings. I enjoyed sex and, as for the men, most were average in size – they weren’t noticeably too big or too small.

So this was the first time I’d had to broach the issue and it never seemed to be the right time. You certainly can’t mention it during sex as it would be such a passion killer. I never wanted to insult Aldo and, besides, men are so sensitive when it comes to their ‘equipment’. Aldo simply never mentioned it. He’s very much a macho man and, while I know he adores me, he isn’t one to talk about feelings, never mind the mechanics of sex.

He’s also from a traditional Italian family and I later learned that he and his male relatives were taught that their size was a family asset – a genetic bonus.

Our courtship was a whirlwind. I loved the way Aldo always spoke his mind: there was never any game playing. He would endlessly tell me how beautiful I was, how much he loved me, what a lucky guy he was. That I was the strongest woman he had ever met. We both wanted children and shared the same values.

Six months after we met, Aldo proposed on Brighton beach, with a ring I’d pointed out weeks earlier in a jeweller’s shop, never dreaming he might use it to pop the question.

We were married within a year of our first meeting and quickly started trying for a family.

And it was only then – when I knew we’d need to be having sex very regularly for the best chance of conception – that I worked up the courage to admit that sex could be uncomfortable, even painful.

I’m entirely sympathetic that being ‘too big’ is an embarrassing problem for men. So I gently mentioned it just after we’d had sex one night. I started off by saying how gloriously large he was, but that I was struggling to accommodate him. I said I loved him more than any other man I’d met, but we needed to be careful.

Aldo was reassured when I said it didn’t mean we wouldn’t have sex, we’d just need to move slowly and explore other avenues in the bedroom. What does that look like in practice? Well, we don’t always have penetrative sex for starters. I have been very open about other things that turn me on, though, which seems to excite him.

And there are certain positions I prefer, because they are more comfortable – we need to be careful about how we position him. We’re never going to have ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ sex.

It means our sex life has to be less spontaneous than both of us would like. I do have to be very firm about when we can and can’t have sex.

While we always enjoy reconnecting sexually after an argument, for example, our passionate make-up sex has to be carefully planned.

We always need extra lubrication, a lot of foreplay and for me it’s better if he’s slower and gentle.

It all sounds amusing but in reality, our physical relationship is an important part of being a couple.

The upside to all this is that having to be so candid about what works for me has brought us closer. I’ve had to find the words to express what I want without denting Aldo’s ego. Working all this out meant that, during the first six months of trying for a family, we weren’t able to be very strategic.

We’d previously been having penetrative sex once or twice a month (during a good month). But in order to conceive, I assumed we would need to up our game significantly. When we were trying I really had to brace myself – especially because it took quite a while. By the time we’d been trying for a year, it felt as if all our friends had an opinion on what we were doing, or not doing, in the bedroom.

I got so exasperated that one evening I told friends sharing their unsolicited advice: do you want to come and watch us and see what we’re doing wrong?

We finally had our son, Mateo, now four, in 2020 via emergency C-section. It was, frankly, a relief to have less penetrative sex for a while after his birth.

We began having sex again a few months later – I work as a healer for post-partum women, so I’m very aware of the importance of giving your body time to repair after birth.

I became pregnant with our second son, Conor, now two, without even trying. We weren’t using protection and were having sex once a month – if that. Which goes to show I’d been putting too much pressure on myself the first time around.

Since then, as parents our sex life has inevitably calmed down. Now we’re lucky if we get to be intimate once every couple of months. Sometimes it is penetrative sex, sometimes it shared intimacy that means we orgasm without penetration. This new way of approaching sex means we still have the physical closeness and pleasure, but the more relaxed schedule suits me better.

And there are other practical considerations when your husband is so well endowed. Aldo spends a fortune on good underwear that will give his ‘crown jewels’ the support they need – a good bit of Lycra is essential to prevent discomfort. Over the years I’ve discovered that Calvin Klein underwear really does go the extra mile.

On holiday, those tiny Speedo swim trunks are definitely out – we’d be frogmarched off the beach. I make sure to buy him modest, sporty-style ones with decent mesh underpants inside to hold everything in. Even so, I do catch women eyeing him up on the beach since, try as we might, his assets are usually fairly clearly on display.

More than once older women have told me that, if they were 20 years younger, they’d try their luck with him. I’m usually so surprised that I’m speechless, unable to respond. Sometimes I can laugh it off, at others it feels rude and invasive.

If only they knew the truth – which is that we work with what we’ve got. I can’t just abandon myself to the moment and at times our sex life is a bit less fulfilling than it could be. With the best of intentions, and with comfortable positions at the forefront of my mind, sometimes we still get carried away. We had sex two nights ago and I’m still very tender.

The only good thing that comes with men and ageing is that I’ve discovered their manhood can shrink thanks to a drop in testosterone levels.

Here’s hoping that turns out to be the case for Aldo.

• As told to Samantha Brick