I hereby declare:  NO woman’s pussy is a prize.  Let me rephrase…  I hereby declare that MY pussy is not a prize… nope.  Not anymore.  Let me explain why I have officially taken my pussy off the auction block…  And then let me tell you what my pussy is and is not.

For a very long time in my youth, I was told by elder women that “virginity” is a prize.  I was fed the idea that boys need to feel that they “cannot get the milk for free” or they would never commit.  I was told that boys know which girls are “doing it” and that they have less respect for these girls.   I was taught that I had to make a man deserve my sex or become a ‘whore’ in the eyes of my peers for life.

Worse yet, if I actually enjoyed the act of sex, and let that become common news, I’d be considered a common girl, used up and worthless…  “No man wants a used up woman” save yourself, be a prize for the man who deserves your pussy.  Didn’t your mother warn you in these same ways?

Well that was when I was just a girl… and now I’m a grown arse woman and the same alarm clock buzzes in my sub-conscious awareness:  My pussy is a prize…

But not today, September 2010.  I now declare:  NO MORE!  Here’s why:

So there are two ways to look at this, if we must…

Mother was either saying

A.) That my pussy must be “prize winning pussy” to get the best man.

Or

B.) That the pussy IS “The prize”!  Like the pussy is a blue ribbon to be placed around the fattest pig at the fair!

In either case.  I decline.

Let’s begin with example A ~ Lets say that I am the woman who possesses a “Prize Winning Pussy”.  So my pussy, like so many other pussies, are lined up on a stage like so many pigs… nice.  Male judges assess which looks cleanest, neatest, nicest; which is  the one that has not been fucked, the one that has not been licked, the one that reads the Holy Bible when yearning for penetration instead of – Oh Heaven FORBID – enjoying penetration!  The Prize Winning Pussy is the one that has been most well preserved due to non-use.

Why would I want a pussy like that?  What kind of pussy is “prize winning pussy”?

For our mother’s, they saw “Prize Winning Pussy” as the one that had not been ‘violated’ by pre-mature dick – the one that hadn’t been touched by even the hands of the body belonging to that pussy… the one that hadn’t moistened panties – EVER – the one that hadn’t cum yet…  The one that was pure, virginal, waiting to be taken with no knowledge of what that meant… humble, meek, pious, innocent…  but guess what?  Somebody forgot to ask the all important question when designing the protocols of this most important part of a woman’s anatomy…

Does “prize winning pussy” know how to cum?

Oh cum on.  You know the answer to that question already!  How could ‘prize winning pussy’ know how to cum?  It’s kept in a glass jar, or on a pet re dish, to be seen and not heard, admired and not touched, thought of but never experienced.  It’s kept alive and free from rot with the very formaldehyde of erroneous belief that created it… like a pickle it is crisp and dead.

And you know I’m right, this is not Charlotte’s Web, ladies, wake up!!  That “prize winning pig” (pussy in this case) is ALWAYS slaughtered after the fair.  Don’t you get that?  Of course you do…

“Prize Winning Pussy”, again, is set for slaughter.  And even Charlotte, with all of her magic, can’t save the damned pig from murder!

The women who try to keep her prize winning pussy in check after the fair, safe from slaughter – you know,  by being a “good pig” not getting moist while watching Boris Chestnut Movies, or keeping her composure while reading romance novels, refusing to have sex from the back, and denying that she has ever had the thought of another man – EVER!!  She keeps it clean and flushed, she tells him it is only for him,  and she believes it too!  She trusts him to “bring” her pleasure and to train that pussy well.  And believe me, he tries to live up to this, I mean why not, this pussy has a blue ribbon!!  He tries to be her Charlotte and keep her alive.  But it’s a huge responsibility, one that gets heavy over time…

And even with all the trying, that “Prize Winning Pussy” is steady asking, prize and all, who’s PUSSY am I?  And of course she says – “you are HIS pussy”, he smiles for the moment, and that prize winning pussy goes back into solitary confinement waiting for this man to unlock the jail cell, opps, I mean glass jar.  And believe me he wants to, but once a prize winning pussy always a prize winning pussy.

Meanwhile this woman, yeah the one with the prized pussy, grows colder and colder, older and older, waiting for her man to enliven her, when he is actually growing colder and colder, older and older,  waiting for this prize pussy to perform for him… and the bedrooms grows darker and darker as no one claims that poor pussy.  Now after one sided sex, his soft dick is over there laughing, like “yeah” thinking he got his, when in actuality he is getting just as much non-pleasure from this prize pussy as the lost pussy is getting itself.

The dick and the prize pussy start playing games of “who can be without whom the longest and still smile when the neighbors come over…” The kids born from this prize pussy – probably a c-section cause the prize pussies be putting up a fight when delivery time comes… no flex baby – the kids are wondering, does mommy kiss daddy, does daddy love mommy and why don’t they (don’t they?) see it…?? All they see is the coldness of loveless union…  And so the cycle continues!

So it is around this time that someone needs to go – something has to be slaughtered.  This relationship just isn’t working!

Life becomes stressful and that damned blue ribbon is starting to fade baby.  Slaughter time is around the corner…  and Charlotte is grown and gone to college.

But before we get to the inevitable end of that scenario, when the woman has to Eat Love and Pray to “find herself” again,  let’s take a look behind door “B” where the pussy IS the prize.

So let’s say mom was right… (and I promise, this is going to be better than option “A” where the pussy is “prize winning”)  giggle.  In this new scenario, the pussy IS the prize.  The man is the fat pig, or well developed animal, to win the prize!  Yay!  So this well developed animal is on the hunt, and of all the pussy out there, he EARNS the Blue Ribbon!  He gets the girl who embodies the idea of a trophy… a prize.

You know her, right?  I mean the pussy has not been touched, licked, pummeled, beaten, spanked, torn, fingered, dangled in a face, placed on sideburns, braided, laced, whipped, stretched or even LOOKED at – EVER – by anyone, except your friendly neighborhood gynecologist.  I mean this bitch has never even placed a tampon into that prize of a pussy.  So this well bred animal of a man is HAPPY!  He places this blue ribbon pussy around his neck!

YAY!

He gets pussy that is a prize.  He dismissed all those other pussies that are not blue ribbon pussies, the ones he would not take home to mammy.  You know the ones he had been in love with before, the ones he loved to have sex with, the ones he really enjoyed talking to, drinking with, sharing his wildest dreams and fun with, oh no no NO…  he passed them by, why?  They were not blue ribbon pussies, and he was a well bred animal deserving, for certain, a blue ribbon to place around his neck…

What he failed to examine is there is caution to be taken when placing items around ones neck. He did not think of it.  He got his blue ribbon, and now with this ring they thee wed!  Oh so beautiful – a blue ribbon wedding!

Now everyone knows what you do with a trophy, right?  You sit that bitch on a shelf and just look at it.  I mean, come on?  You look at em, show em off when friends come over, place them into a scrap book with all the other scraps of a life spent obtaining them.  You work for them and then you showcase them.  LOL!

And then here you are… You are a delicious blue ribbon on a shelf.  There you sit.  You thought he’d take that ribbon and do what with it?  Did you think he’d sleep in the bed with a blue ribbon?  And you forgot one more very important thing… This pig will be slaughtered!  So the very man you graced with your blue ribbon of a pussy will be slaughtered!  The irony is that he will be slaughtered by the noose of your pussy tight around his neck – and I don’t mean in a smooth 69!

Why?  I mean How?  How could this happen.

I’ll tell you why and how.  Its because that blue ribbon is a woman, a woman desires more than being a trophy on the shelf, a woman desires love and lust and sensual bliss and she must have it.  She wants to be embraced and given more than gifts to keep her shiny, she desires partnership in delightfully luscious love that unfolds into more and more each day.

And guess what?  She was TOLD by her mother that she would get that if she became a blue ribbon.  But instead she finds you looking to the same women who you couldn’t take home to mammy… the nerve!!!

And as for HOW you’ll perish?  Her pretty blue ribbon self becomes the noose around the neck of the man who thought she was a trophy (because she thought she was a trophy too – she goes insane over confusion like Sybil).  She strangles him because she can.  She closes his air passages because he closed hers, and so did society, by attempting to place her on a pedestal and into a glass case.  And worse yet, she allowed all of this when she KNEW there was no air in a glass case!  And every human being needs to be able to inhale oxygen…  right?

So there you have it.  I have told you what my particular pussy is not.  But I bet you are wondering then, what IS your pussy then, Kenya?  Right?  If not a prize… is it a gift?  Yes yes a gift!!!  Is that it Kenya?

Nope.  Not a gift either.  A gift is something to be given away, When I make love I am in receptive mode… I am receiving bliss!  That is my action step, as an awakened woman – to receive.  Now before you fuss…  Sure, I am giving vicariously, but it is my man who is giving during sex.  YES!  I said it and will say it again:  It is the man who is the giver during sex, have you seen sex lately?

And yes, he receives vicariously… His action step is giving.  And he wants nothing more than to have me in orgasmic trance.  My delight makes his flight every time!  My tantra men with those stroke skills do it best.. xo

What I am saying is about me and my Yoni.  Maybe I am speaking for more women than I know?

I’ll tell you more about what my Yoni is.  My Yoni is TRUTH. I share truth with any person who I desire to reveal truth to.  My yoni is enlightenment, I share light with whomever I desire to share it with…  My pussy is Heaven.  I can go to heaven with whomever I please.  My pussy cannot be used up, worn out, torn apart or disintegrated in anyway.

My pussy is beyond your world of things, it is a gift from what you call God to me… it is the pearly seat of Inner Goddess, a creative force in the world.  My pussy/womb can be pregnant with babies or with ideals; new realities!!!  And no one has to cut anything out of me… I birth beautifully with this flexible pussy.  I can birth things for all of us, any of us, and I can choose from the large array of worthy beings around me to impregnate this pussy at any given moment.

My pussy is orgasmic.  My pussy can cum with streaming liquids – sacred liquids – released over and over again from the waterfalls within.  My pussy can open my entire being to bliss, my pussy is in every cell of my body, every movement of mind, every opening where synapse happens!  My pussy leaks light filled liquid from all of my pores, connects me to the divine, IS divine and is not mine.

My pussy belongs to the Goddess in me, and she alone chooses her foods to be savored and enjoyed forever more… My pussy is something that has to be defined by me, over and over again… or not.  She is an extension of my most sensual, spiritual, self; an opening to the infinitude of worlds within, a connection from me to anyone whom I choose to contact.  I can speak to animals, trees, plants, rocks, rivers and oceans with my pussy.  And I can speak to God within me.  In fact I am speaking to God when I make love and my pussy has ears to hear God, eyes to see God, a mouth to taste God, and nose to smell the sweet fragrance of the divine… I can feel Goddess in my womb, I can house and birth her into the world when I must.  And I choose to often.

Oh yes, I choose.

My pussy is anything I decide it to be, with whomever I decide to enjoy it with, even myself.  My pussy is submitted to the men who gives her that sweet electricity.  And she knows that even without the men, even with other men, with women, children, or with spirit unmasked – she can always share love – there is infinite love waiting for my sweet pussy.

I am receptive to my men – my YIN or YONI is receptive to YANG.  So she moistens naturally without anything from CVS.  And these men do not have to see her as a prize or a gift or a pig with a blue ribbon.  They can simply see me as a reflection of self – Yin to their Yang.  If they don’t like it, they would not be in it.  If they don’t love it, she would not even be visible to them.  My pussy exists only to those who match her healthy, beautiful, blissful, harmonious, peaceful vibration…

I thought I knew this already.  But apparently I have to reiterate.

Thanks for hearing… xo

To discover more life changing information about your feminine energy – go here!

Kenya K Stevens