Adult Sex Ed

The Pussy Pride Project – Installment #97

A panel from The Great Wall of Vagina, the inspiration of Molly Moore’s Pussy Pride Project.

Molly Moore of Molly’s Daily Kiss asked me to contribute to her Pussy Pride Project. I’m embarrassed to say that I hadn’t heard of it recently, but I’m happy to keep it going with my contribution and I encourage other women, and not just sex bloggers, to do so as well. And please, don’t just preach and share it with the sex-positive choir; share my story and all the stories involved in the project with all women.

Ever since I discovered and embraced my sexuality when I was 31, I also embraced the power of my pussy – every single part of it. I’ve always loved the way it has me feel energized and empowered. I’ve always proud of the pleasures it has brought to others. I’ve always disappointed when it was enjoyed for a brief time and certain individuals just moved on with no explanation or reason. I’ve learned some valuable lessons on how to choose who gets access to it. My pussy and the person that comes with it are pretty valuable things. I don’t mean to sound narcissistic; it’s one of the ways I take control of the quality of my life.

I’m one of those fortunate women that can orgasm in many ways. Sometimes all it takes is me or my lover gently and tenderly stroking my full and luscious outer lips. The slower and gentler, the better. (Hint for the guys: don’t rub on a woman’s outer lips like you’re buffing wax off a car. Every once in a while I’ll do a complete shave. All that covered, protected skin feels baby-soft. But every once in a while they can use a good rub, but that’s something I prefer do on my own. To use a cooking metaphor, it’s kind of like getting the temperature and consistency just right for making the perfect roux. Roux and labia majoras are delicate things. Simply put, there’s no one way I prefer to play with my outer lips.

The part of my pussy that I find most beautiful and fascinating are those sweet, pink and moist petals of flesh. I love the way they feel so slick and tingly when I glide my fingers over them. I love the way my lover is fascinated when he sees and touches them even more. Those first moments when his tongue flicks and flitters over them is like embarking on a joy ride. There are fewer bigger thrills in life in seeing his face glisten when he sucks on an endless supply of my nectars, He looks like he’s indulging in something more precious than the most expensive and prized champagne. It’s expression and enthusiasm that can’t be faked, and neither can the ecstasy he gives me. It always amazes me how those sensitive and delicate folds of skin have such super powers.

As much as I’m lucky enough to have such an experienced and enthusiastic master of the art of oral sex, I just have to have his cock inside of me. Honestly, it’s so much more about interlocking body parts, but if I really have to focus on my pussy and on my vagina in particular, it’s pretty damn amazing, at least for me. It’s always a bit tight at first, but once his cock is in, I love the way my vagina gives his shaft a warm, wet, and welcoming hug every time it slides in and out. The luxury of being fluid bonded allows our veining and textures to glide and rub against each other, especially since I’ve become a lube evangelist. What was I thinking for holding out all these years? Using lube does not mean you’re deficient or have lost it as a woman. It’s like the difference between taking baby steps going into a pool and running and jumping in and making a tsunami splash.

Speaking of jumping in, I’d love to know what goes on inside of me that allows me to take all of his cock in and makes my vagina squeeze and grab hold of his penis. It’s like pulling off the most amazing party trick – well, at least for this party of two. When I think of it, that small part of my body is pretty damn strong.

And, yes, I have a G-spot and it does exist despite what a self-proclaimed researcher and expert told me to the contrary. I have yet to find a sex toy that can probe and pulsate that little spongy spot that’s hidden on the front part about mid-way or so up my vagina the way my lover’s fingers do. It’s also my new favorite incentive for going all cowgirl on him. Yee haw! (Okay, I like that he likes it, too, and he doesn’t just lie back and take it. It’s a pretty exciting ride for both of us.)

By no means do I want to ignore the clitoris. It’s pretty well hidden when I’m not aroused, but once I get turned up at full blast, it comes out and demands to be played with. That little bean of a clitoral head does quite a job of putting my entire body into spasms.

How many other parts of my body that are the size of the inside of my hand can do all that? None that I can think of. That’s why I take so much pride in it and share it with only one other person besides myself.

To some extent, I’m a little shy about showing off my pussy to the world. To those who don’t know the reason why, I’m sure I’ll be judged rather harshly. It’s definitely not a porn star pussy, and I’m okay with that. I have no interest in impressing small-minded people. Even if they know the reason, I’m sure I’ll get the “This is God’s punishment for being a slut,” comments from sexually repressed holier than thou types.

Almost four years ago, I contracted Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus (MRSA), an antibiotic-resistant strain of bacteria that quickly ravages skin and tissue. By the time I got to the hospital and doctors figured out what was going on, a doctor asked for consent to do surgery with the caveat that I had a 40% chance of coming out of surgery. To make a long story short, there were two surgeries, 3½ months of extensive wound care until it healed, and another month and a half until the nerve damage finally subsided. I recovered with a bulbous scar on the far right side of my vulva and my right labia majora is somewhat smaller and disfigured. It’s a far cry from the four inch long, 1½ inch deep open wound that I started out with.

While I was going through wound care, my nurse practitioner told me that my health insurance would cover the cost of plastic surgery to restore my vulva. I just couldn’t go through another surgery or recovery on that part of my body. I didn’t want to risk the possible risk or lost or diminished sensation. If a man couldn’t handle the look of my vulva, I what I went through to keep what I have of it, or couldn’t appreciate what my pussy is capable of doing, he wasn’t worth keeping around. In the time since I’ve recovered, only two men have seen it and only one man I feel worthy of having in my life … and not just because he’s so good to my pussy.

Thank you, Molly, for starting this project and allowing others to take pride in their pussies, sharing their thoughts about them, and letting others know that no two pussies are alike.