Vaginal Insecurities

My pussy is brown. There I said it...

I mean it should be, I am a woman of color, though from the outside I don't look it, but I can save my race for another blog post.

While girls wish for bigger breasts, that perfect nose job, liposuction, and botox injections, I on the other hand wish for a pinker pussy. My obsession with the color pink spans from the bedroom to my box in an exquisite manner complete with glitter, sequins and feathers. That is what I want my pussy to look like...the pinkest burlesque fan dance you have ever seen.

As the years have gone by, I have noticed my girl getting darker and darker, even around my inner thighs. My pussy as it stands, is the only indication of my heritage, let alone my dark pink nipples. I sometimes grab a cheap hand mirror, lay down on my bed and stare at her. I take alot of pride in my pussy by shaving it frequently as I like the clean shaven look. As I stare at her, I allow my fingers to trace it's shape. I pay close attention to it's every detail. This ritual can span 5 minutes to hours if I'm really bored with im'ing senseless drivel on gmail.

I sometimes wonder if I have a pretty pussy. I wonder if it is esthetically pleasing to the eye. It's not like I have never seen what another one looks like, but to date I have never been compliment on my precious. In my last relationship, albeit a short one, she would never compliment it, she preferred to look at the macro of my being rather than focusing on the details. I prefer details so our conversations that turned into arguments left me feeling insecure down there. I couldn't understand why it was so hard to tell me I had a pretty girl. I myself am not fully represented by what's down there, but I want my lover past, present of future to appreciate my body and get to know all it's kinks. I don't think that is asking much, and if someone does love you, wouldn't they want to know all that is you? Especially your body?


Since I am still in the healing phase from past heart wrenching drama. I am more than insecure about myself at this point, and although i know this is a passing phase, the next girl to fall between my sheets will hopefully be an understanding one. Will she be interested in my details? Will she hopefully like to place her fingers in my behind (crosses fingers)? Is it possible for it to happen?

I am purposely forcing myself out to a few parties in the upcoming weeks, not just because i have to promote my ass off for my show, but hopefully to use that medium in order to talk to women. To meet new faces in the same old places. With the lesbian scene here in NYC, although it is a small one, I know that I haven't met everyone just yet.

As for my pussy, perhaps I can paint some pink acrylic on her one day, just to say i had a pink pussy.

Vaginal Parasites

Sometimes I wonder why I write in this blog. Why I started it at all. A rush of fears and OMG's flood my head as I ponder how much I should have revealed. Granted, this blog only focuses on a specific part of my life and doesn't encompass the entirety that is me.

I probably could have written that a little more slicker, something that falls out of the tongue a little more fluid, but for today I'll focus on a little bit of drama that is outside the sexual realm and with a little more heart.

My heart as I mention it, has been broken. I can safely say that it really wasn't broken at all. It was pulverized, dismantled, smashed, de-constructed, thrown against a wall, raped, beaten, and destroyed.

They (plural), have no names to me anymore, they are mere vaginal parasites that have thankfully found one another and in a way I am thankful for that. However since there is a link between them and my best friend, I can't fully eradicate them 100% until she wakes up and realizes what disgusting pitiful creatures they really are and eradicates them for herself.

I can't control anyone but I can control how I interact with others. However I have learned a valuable lesson throughout this entire ordeal that has been happening since December now. I have learned to let other's friends BE there friends and not interact with them fully. It sounds confusing but I am sure we have all been there. I have also learned NOT to go after someone through a friend, especially one that has been intimate with. I hate to divulge personal info about others...but this is a matter of learning from my mistakes.

My punishment was an ordeal of such heartwrenching pain, that I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. I felt alone and abandoned and discarded...but it was ok..because it wasn't "their intentions to hurt me". It was perfectly alright, because I am "too sensitive" and that i need to work on myself. Now I am not perfect, but I also don't play mind games, manipulate and deceive people. I am honest as one gets.

The mere gall of hurting someone then making them feel bad for feeling bad still goes over my head. The fact that I let it happen, that I let the vaginal parasites deceive me time and time again, that I constantly went back and tried to work things out thinking that I could better myself FOR THEM...still blows my mind.

They say you only and truly fall in love once...but for me, i fell in love back to back twice. I would have done anything, I would have packed up everything that is this life in Jersey and went anywhere. I was that captivated.

Now all i am is an empty shell, some may view that as starting over, but for me I have no idea where to start at all. I have no idea where to go. I feel like Alice from Alice in Wonderland, just searching for a way home but instead getting lost in a maze. Maybe like in the movie Labyrinth. I keep on searching out hidden corridors only to find myself stuck at the beginning.

I'm yearning to heal in the arms of a woman, but right now I don't even know if I can get close to one right now. This vagina, heart, body, soul is lifeless. If I thought I had trust issues before this, then I was naive. I don't even know if I can trust anyone anymore...let alone myself.

I know this is all part of the healing process...but what if i can't heal? What if this is it for me. What if I am doomed to forever remain single and more importantly sexless?

Perhaps this blog ended as quickly as it was started.....

Vaginal Poetry Part 1

Hands

She slowly touches her hand mesmerizing my eyes in the process.

I once saw her lightly touch herself under her knee once…she had an itch, and the way she scratched it…

I was in a trance for the whole 2 minute show…just watching her fingers at work….gliding softly over her skin.

Did she want to touch herself? Could I watch?

Watch those sweet delicate hands caress such a curvy goddess.

Watch it carefully play with her sweet puffy pinkness.

Getting wet

Getting off

Going insane

I’m starting to have an obsession with her hands. i want her fingers to order me on all fours…I want her hands to carefully grasp her shiny black paddle. I want to feel the slap of my ass come from a whole structured unit of muscle, bone and skin. I want her touch…

But in the end…the pleasure just comes from my own hand….