Is that what I look like?
Lori’s vagina here, speaking on behalf of vaginas everywhere (thank you rest of body for airtime).
First off, I’m shy. I don’t normally like the limelight and I certainly have never stood up and been heard. (Yes, I’m blushing beneath Lori’s panties).
But I just had to state my case on this whole topic of what the perfect vagina should look like and the increasingly popular practice of labioplasty—basically surgically lopping off chucks of inner labia to produce a pretty pussy.
What the f*ck? We vaginas know we don’t all look alike and that’s okay. That would be like saying all white people look the same or should look the same. Other than having the basic parts in common (see diagram in case you are confused), each vagina is as unique as a face. Trust me, I grew up taking baths with sister vaginas that looked nothing like me on the surface.
Which brings me to my main point. Some twats might be obsessed with living up to a model vagina. But most of us vaginas don’t give a rat’s ass how we look because frankly (unless we’re posing for a porn magazine), no one’s really looking at us.
Sure, Lori’s taken a mirror-glance now and then (especially after the babies were born when she worried I’d never look the same again). But as for her lovers? Other than the doctor with an anatomy fetish, most of them were far too busy licking me to inspect closely whether my inner labia dangle below or are tucked into my outer lips. Let’s face it. There’s only so much you can see without going cross-eyed when you your face is buried in my folds.
Anyway, far more worrisome for me than my looks, especially when when I was younger, was a preoccupation with smell (afterall, I’d heard jokes about fish). So growing up, I overcompensated by making sure Lori soaped me to death before sex, ideally following up with scented oils.
As I got older, I realized that fresh sweat seemed to be fine with most men. In fact, smelling like a body instead of a perfume seemed to turn them on, likely because my natural fragrance is phermonally hot.
Then, there’s that issue of taste. Other than when Lori eats garlic, I’ve been told I taste sweet and salty–sort of like a Chinese take out dish. I’ve heard from her lovers over the years that every vagina has its own taste-sensation. What a relief to know that I’m my own flavor. Who wants to be just like every other vagina?
Anyway from what I can tell, men appreciate me just the way I am. On that sex-positive note, let’s all just lighten up and enjoy our vulvic diversity.
hot on elephant
The 4 Stages of a Good Divorce. A Letter to my Children: You do not come from a Broken Home. These People are Rare Gems—Keep Them, Fight for Them, don’t Give Up on Them. Mom, can I Call her Mom, Too? Jon Stewart makes first appearance since retiring—”it’s not your country.” Waylon shares 10 transformingly beautiful Quotes about Love. My Marriage had to End—for my Life to Begin. Why your Yoga Goals are (Probably) Irrelevant, if not Downright Dangerous. The Day I Stopped Running. Dear Woman in the White Car at Margaritas Mexican Grill in West Memphis, Arkansas on July 15th, 2012.