My Vagina

It's not just another hole.
It's the entry stage
for the next generation.
It's the beginning
of that revolution
that the children
promised their mother
so many years ago.
It's not just another hole.
It's a budding flower
filled with nectar
and promise.

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My soft moist folds of velvet and silk,
full of nerve endings that give me pleasure when handled gently but firmly like an egg.
It tingles with want.
It's hard to resist sometimes.

Like the soft petals of a red rose in the morning mist,
my vagina is a part of the garden I call my body.
It is the signature of my womanhood and the center of my pleasure.
It's petals invite entry and it's bulb reacts to that entry.
It can feel pleasure from my smallest finger,
it can feel pain from the smallest baby,
and it greets both with much anticipation.

I am being pulled from my warm peaceful sleep by a kiss.  What?  I know I've always wanted to be awakened like this, so I must be still dreaming or something. I enjoy the dream.  Slowly, I become aware of soft and small rhythmic motions in my pussy to go with the kiss.  A moan escapes me, and I become further awake. "Pussy?"  My thoughts become afraid.  I rarely ever even think that word, let alone use it.  Never felt free to.  And I'm still being gently kissed and touched.  What is happening to me?  My eyes spring open.  I'm sure there's fear there for an instant, and then it registers.  It's you.  My whole body instantly relaxes, and I hold you, actively returning the kiss now.  But the pussy sensations have stopped.  I miss them.  I blush, again surprised by my use of that word, even in my head.

When you see that I am completely awake, you break the kiss, but don't move far. You are above me, holding me to you. You put a little fairy kiss on my nose and smile. "Good morning and Happy birthday!"

That's right.  It's my birthday.  I laugh.  "My 'Roaring Twenties' are about to go out with a roar that the world will be able to see and hear.  I'm liberated.  I have a pussy."  This time, I don't blush. 

So there we were eating chicken burritos and talking about random subjects and the subject of ovaries came up. She and I can talk about anything and we have no secrets. Not even one. As we talked she said that they can be felt from the inside with a finger and the right instructions. She said she would let me feel later if I wanted, and I did.

This is trust. With the things we have been through in both of our lives, this was the biggest step of blind faith in friendship that either of us have ever taken. I can think of nothing in life that could make a person feel more vulnerable than allowing someone else to explore the most intimate part of their body yet there was no fear because she knows my heart like no other person alive.

I was not able to feel them that night, not from lack of want or attempt, but because I did not want to cause her pain. She said we could try again soon under better circumstances.

Trust is a beautiful thing.