I like shaved pussy
(... deal with it)
Lately, some of my friends have accused me of going soft. They
say I've lost my "fuck you" edge. They say I no longer write about sex
the way I used to, and that lately I've been mired in the sad,
cookie-cutter world of current-events commentary.
To them I say: Fuck you. Sure, they have a point. But fuck
them anyway. Especially Johnny the C.
Fortunately, last week I was nominated for "Best Column of the
Year - Adult Category" by the Net Wits International Humor Society, so
I figure now is a good time to reassert myself. Just the title of this
column alone should be enough to keep me in the running. Regardless,
I'm pretty sure I can beat out the other nominees. Okay, the other
nominee.
Meanwhile, shaved pussy. Last summer, a comedian friend of
mine and I were hanging out at the Sonoma County Fair (I'm very proud).
After a fine meal of barbecued pork ribs, we went to visit my dad's
grave side, the Sonoma County racetrack, where I had spread his ashes
across the finish line back in 1993. It's funny how easily the subject
of death segues into the subject of sex (The French call the orgasm
"Little Death." I call it shooting my load). Unsolicited, I told her,
"Guess what I do now? I shave my cock. Want to see? It looks like an
abandoned baby bald eagle."
She's a lesbian, so I like to antagonize her. Check that.
She's a person, so I like to antagonize her.
"That's too kinky for me," she said.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well, we shave," she said. (And by "we," I think she meant
the entire lesbian tribe.) "But we always leave a little bit up top."
I decided not to pursue the conversation. First, we were
having a good time at the fair, so I didn't want to bring a
controversial dark cloud over our cotton-candied existence. Second, she
had no fewer than 18 beers back at her house, I was spending the night,
she doesn't drink, so all the beer was for me. You don't want to tamper
with that kind of set up.
But I got the gist of where she was coming from. You can't
shave off all the pubic hair, for then you would be a CHILD MOLESTER.
Yeah, right.
She wasn't alone in this belief. Another friend of mine -- who
hosts a cable gardening show, writes freelance articles for several
publications, gives me feedback on my columns and usually shows
uncommonly good sense -- agreed with her.
"It just reminds me of being five years old and naked in the
kiddie pool," he said.
Look. Thanks for sharing, but don't lay your hangups on me. I
believe everyone should get what they want sexually. If you want a huge
cock, go for it. If you want big tits, go for it. If you want to
buttfuck your brains out, go for it. And if you want all of the above,
stop at The Show Palace in Austin. Ask for Samantha.
Look. Again. We're talking about grown women shaving their
pubic hair. It's an aesthetic, a style if you will. And unless you know
a six-year-old who shaves regularly, I don't see the comparison to
child molestation. I just happen to like the soft, smooth look and
feel. There's a functional component as well -- nothing between me and
the clit. Nothing.
What do these people think when they see a guy with a shaved
head? That he's trying to look like an infant?
Look. For the last time. It's not a deal breaker, it's just a
preference. I'll lick shaggy bush just as readily as cue-ball pussy.
But if I have my choice -- and I usually do -- I'll take the sleek,
tongue-inviting, wet and glistening, mound in my mouth every time. Rub
it on my face, in my hair, let me bury my head between your thighs and
lap you like a hot, thirsty pit bull during a 100-degree heat wave on a
humid summer's day in west Texas.
Shaved genitals may not be your preference, but for all I know
you might be practicing some sexual activity that would turn me off
completely. (Just kidding.) My point is this: As long as your sexual
activities are limited to two or more consenting adults, by all means
pursue your pleasure. I want my readers to fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck
-- constantly and in any manner they so choose. And I want the same for
myself. Enough said.
So. Did I win the award?
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