(The Vagina Monologues happen this week. I bet then this is a good time to reply to some comments posted here about my Vagina. As usual with me, no hard feelings about any of the comments. I first recorded this piece as part of the podcasts I am creating…I was a little charged thus the slightly different style..)
Someone says the nerves of my Vagina are dead. He is wrong. They are alive and sensitive. I feel every penis that penetrates me. And though I may not react ecstatically with every thrust, I know of the conversation that goes down there. My Vagina tells the arrogant-looking Penis: “You know you are not the first here.”
“I know, I can feel it”. Says the Penis
“You have been to many others. Right? ” My Vagina says
“Yes, the same way many have visited you. “
“And how would you compare the others to me?” My Vagina says.
“I think you are gorgeous”. The Penis says.
“Thanks. Will you come again?”
“You know it depends on my master”
“I bet you can nag him enough to bring you back to me. ” My Vagina says.
“I will try, but promise not to allow others to visit you.”
“That I can’t promise…”
Someone says my Vagina smells. He is wrong. I value and take care very good of it. How could I ignore the organ that keeps the rest of me alive by generating income to stop me from starving? I clean it thoroughly and visit a gynecologist every month to have it checked for any impurities. I also give it a break. At times when alone in the house I stay naked to give it a breath of fresh air. And it’s because I value it that I stopped peeing anywhere like some of us girls on the street do. My Vagina was not happy with exposure to elements. It was for the same reason that I stopped drinking at the bar not far from my house because the toilets were filthy. My Vagina must have had a chat with the mouth.
“Can’t you stop mistress from drinking? I almost suffocate every time she is emptying the bladder” My Vagina asked
“I have no control over it, Mistress loves her drink and I love the taste of beer. ” The Mouth replied.
“Then ask the stomach to do something”
“No way, the last time I asked stomach to help he reacted by pushing everything out through me.”
“Well something must be done, otherwise I will commit suicide”
My Vagina seems to have a life and brain of its own. I don’t use it to think but it influences my thinking. I vomited every time I visited the loo until I stopped going to the particular bar.
Someone says my Vagina is loose and the size of a bucket. He is wrong. I exercise and keep it fit. I was given a hint about vaginal exercises. Now I squeeze and release my muscles when the man or my finger is in. Occasionally I hold my urine a little longer than necessary, the muscle stress helps keep me tight and natural. At times it also gives me pleasure. If my vagina was loose and wide some men won’t be moaning in pleasure when with me. And they won’t be coming back. If someone says my Vagina is as wide as a bucket then his penis is short and narrow.
Someone says I can never enjoy the fun of sex for as long as I lease my Vagina. He believes, as the adage says, that business and pleasure can never mix. True, I may not experience as many instances of pleasure as other women, but I occasionally have some fun. I meet a man I like and enjoy every moment of it. And hey these days you don’t necessarily need a man to have some good sex.
The fact that I have commercialized my Vagina does not mean I have lost my dignity or don’t respect it anymore. More than ever before, I feel my vagina defines me. Whatever I am presently and in a long time to come is a result of my Vagina.
Thanks, princess. I am sure you are proud of me as I’m proud of you.
( I am almost done with the podcast, but toying with the idea of using it to raise money to buy a new computer as my old one is dead. But well that is a conversation we have before the end of the week)
