I think I opened Pandora’s box with my joke #pantiesweek. Goddess bless Sophie for taking that gauntlet, running and skipping down the road with it. What evolved was a plethora of discussions for #pussyweek that started with the word pussy and the whole question again of what words we prefer for those lady parts. I don’t believe I am the only author that struggles with this. Sometimes the word to use is clear, other times, not so much.
I loved how the week evolved to different questions, sometimes recycled questions that have been talked about before…briefly…but never to the full extent, we’ve explored them this week. I am standing and clapping…giving Sophie a standing ovation right now. I was easily able to provide scenes or clips with the word pussy. I posted a passage in an upcoming book citing an unusual place to make love. I found several passages where I referred to shaved legs or armpits. The one that stumped me was a call for a passage that somehow included the monthly visit from Flo. Now in my defense, I haven’t had that visit in years since I am well past that time in my life. I didn’t start writing until after I was able to save a shit ton of money on feminine products and copious amounts of Advil.
So…I had to delve deep into my creative warped brain to write a scene, that I will admit was based on a true story! Here is the scene I wrote…don’t laugh too hard at my expense…or if you do I hope you are laughing with me and not at me. Of course, at the time, I was mortified. This happened over 25 years ago…..
My head was back on the pillow and my girlfriend was getting busy between my legs. I needed this because, well, it had been over a week. Last weekend I was on my period. I’d come a long way, but that was just gross. You know, letting someone lick down there when blood could sneak out.
I’d taken off early and made my way down to Portland on Thursday, excited to see her. The moment I’d arrived she yanked me down to her basement bedroom and we were both naked and writhing against one another in minutes.
I was squirming again as her head was between my legs and her mouth securely fastened to my clit. Then, I felt it, the small tug.
“Um, babe,” she hesitantly began.
What? Now you stop. For shit’s sake, I thought.
“Are you still on the rag?”
“No, I huffed.”
I felt the tug again, and as if a cold bucket of water had been tossed on me, I sat up. “Shit, oh shit.”
She playfully tugged on the string and laughed. “I thought you smelled a little, uh, ripe,” she said. “You didn’t taste like your normal sweet self, either.”
I groaned and jumped from the bed, making a quick dash to the bathroom. Angrily, I yanked the offending tampon from my vagina, wrapped it into a wad of toilet paper that would have been enough to fully encase a mummy. Rancid was an understatement. That damn string had hidden in the fold of my labia and in my haste to travel to Portland I’d completely forgotten about it. I was at the end of my period two days ago, so I didn’t give it a single thought.
I was about to jump into the shower and thoroughly clean myself in an attempt to wash away the effects of the cloth tube with days old blood. The little sucker had effectively hidden itself up my hoo-haw. I felt the arms of my girlfriend wrap around my waist.
“Come back to bed,” she purred. “It’s no big deal. We can tell our friends the story, they’ll roar with laughter.”
“Don’t you dare,” I threatened. My voice was low and ominous. I was mortified.
“Okay, I promise, mum’s the word, but only if you get your cute ass back in bed. I wasn’t finished.”
“I’ll be right there.” After she left I quickly looked around the small bathroom and found the hand soap. It would have to do. There was no way I was heading back until I’d thoroughly scoured every single inch of my pussy. Nothing less than a complete wash would allow me to relax enough to let my girlfriend’s glorious tongue back between my legs.
How the hell I remembered to shave my legs, but not pull out the tampon was beyond me. I guess shit does happen. Twenty-eight years later I can laugh about this—at the time, not so much.
I guess #pussyweek brings out the most outrageous stories, true ones and others that are completely off the wall. Is this true or the figment of a demented writer’s imagination? I guess you’ll never know!
The above poorly crafted scene was the best I could do on short notice…so if you want to read something a lot better with real editing…you know the drill…click one of the links below!
Very excited about my new release and really hope you consider getting this book: Dream Catcher Listen to me read the prologue and 1st chapter of The Dream Catcher here.
Proud to be an Affinity Rainbow Publications author!
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