The Penis

It’s 3am, I’m naked in a jacuzzi with my two girls friends. It has been a long night and it is nowhere near over. There isn’t a penis in sight.

I’m at Avalon springs, the pools have been closed since 10pm but the guard on duty is in a good mood. He tells us that his shift ends at 5am. He couldn’t care less if we were here or not.

He is sitting far away near a fire by the closed bar. The 3 of us are in the dark, lit only by the moonless sky and a few stars. We started the day with mimosas, it has been a long day.

My boyfriend smuggled in a water bottle filled with substances that might pass for water but definitely were not. He dropped off the flask and then went to bed. That was almost 5 hours ago. We’re hungry and thirsty.

We plan to do some more smuggling of flasks and such but then realise that our  guard could not care less what we eat or drink. We take full advantage. We bring back two flasks of what definitely is not water, a slab of chocolate, some chips and some of whatever was left after our braai 9 hours ago.

We are set and ready for what turned into a night of madness. That is a story for another day. Today, I want to tell you about my intoxicated epiphany.

It’s 3am, I’m naked in a jacuzzi with my two girls friends. It has been a long night and it is nowhere near over. There isn’t a penis in sight. Somehow, though, all we can talk about is the penis. Where it’s been, why it’s been there, when, how, so on and so forth. We get bored fast. Penises really aren’t that exciting at 3 am in the morning.

Our interests move to our own body parts. The Vagina. This is where it all began. Naked, wet and warm. Surrounded by the love of my friends and their star-lit nakedness. My brain made perfect scene in its liquid intoxicated state.

I commanded silence. The cellphone speaker version of Beyonce’s ‘Get me bodied’, was turned off. All eyes were on me. Here goes:

A beach sandcastle bucket, what is it’s job? It is a bucket that one takes to the beach , fills time and time again with sand, different sand from anywhere in the world, and when emptied, makes perfect sandcastles. This bucket was designed to be filled, time and time again. Sand goes into it and gets tipped out of it. The bucket, if looked after, will keep on doing what buckets do. Keep it clean and well looked after and it will always make you happy, make perfect sandcastles.

I look at my friend’s faces, they are soft, excited and sweaty. This jacuzzi is hot as all hell, but leaving means going to bed. Never. So we sit, they nod at me, allowing the words to swim through the alcohol to find a place to stand, solid.

I go on, a vagina is a like that bucket. Perfectly designed to have things go in and come out. The vagina cleans itself, anything that it does not want will not stay. As long as you look after it and keep it clean/healthy it will be perfect for the rest of your life.

I start to hear Yes-es from behind the wall of steam coming off the water. Affirmation. So I continue. So why do we get told to keep this space empty? Why do we get told to leave it for someone else to fill? Why do we get told that we are broken when more than one man has been in it? None of that makes sense to me. It is a space designed to be filled.

The penis, though, is a DNA passageway. Its job is to allow DNA to travel to reach a place where is is shared and combined with other DNA to make a human. This is sacred. This is a journey of life. Literally. So when an ejaculation happens casually in the lap of some or other individual, a man is quite literally throwing away millions of perfect parts of himself. And the world says this is good, this is healthy, this shows strength.

Quietly a flask of something that is definitely not water gets passed around and reaches me. I take a large gulp, ask for more chocolate and carry on with my theory.

Men have been raised to believe that the more women they sleep with, the more seed they spread, the stronger they are. Yet even though a man makes sperm throughout his life, each time he ejaculates into someone  he is giving a part, or many small parts of himself away. If he has no care for this person, he is leaving parts of himself in a person for which he does not care about. In my mind, this would eventually leave you empty. Giving so much giving.

I believe that we are quick to believe what we are told. Women are weak and can be broken easily, which also means don’t have sex because you’ll magically turn into a whore ( whatever that means). And men must bang like bunnies to become better men, stronger men, more powerful men (whatever that means).

By now we were all sweating, we slid into the cool pool and had a lazy swim around the grounds and discussed what it all meant to us. At 27 years old, the 3 of us concluded that having loads of sex, safe, healthy, consensual sex, was not in anyway harmful to us as women and fuck patriarchy for damaging us women and the broken men that we ‘bang’ into in the world!

 

 

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