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SEX STUFF FROM A BROAD IN HER 60s
A Snatch of Truth
There is nothing physically beautiful about a vagina
I’m a woman. With a vagina. And I can say, without a shred of doubt, that there is precious little that is outwardly appealing about the gash betwixt my legs. It has nothing to do with my age, body shape, political sensibilities, or genetic extraction.
I can keep my vagina fresh and clean, trimmed and neat, but it will never be a thing of beauty. Certainly, many of you will disagree, but tell me, would you rather gaze upon a kitten, or a vagina?
Yes, it is a miracle of architecture in that, when treated “right,” the vagina can be the control center that floods the body with pleasure so intense as to elicit the kind of orgasms that dreams are made of.
So let’s thank our vaginas for those leg-shaking, chest-flushing moments that for some of us, are only distant memories, but comforting, nonetheless. That said, I’m not ready to throw in the towel. My next leg-shaker could be right around the proverbial corner. Or in the small bathroom off our bedroom where I’m often ensconced with my “purple friend.”
Quarantine is boring as shit, folks.
Here’s something even more miraculous: The vagina is the place from where babies…
