Wednesday, July 2, 2008

The Vagina Breast

Time: 1974
Place: Chattanooga, TN

Dennis and I were reading comic books at his place when he told me about the dream he had the night before.

In his dream, Dennis was in a large white room with no doors, windows, or furniture. Just four blank walls, a floor, a ceiling, and a woman. The woman was attractive, in her early 20s with shoulder length brunette hair and a nice build. She was medium height, which made her taller than Dennis. At 4 feet 11 1/2 inches, just about everybody in the Western Hemisphere was taller than Dennis.

Both Dennis and the woman were in their underwear. The woman had on a white bra and white panties. Dennis wore a pair of tightie whities and his glasses. Even in his dreams, Dennis couldn’t see shit without his glasses.

Dennis had one goal: remove the woman’s undergarments. The woman had one goal too, which was to keep them on. They dealt with their competing goals by wrestling each other. Their intense struggle went on for hours.

It was a frustrating fight for Dennis. Why wouldn’t the woman give in? Why didn’t she ever get tired while his arms grew heavier by the hour? Would it be so terrible for her to be naked? Dennis was willing to get naked with her, if it would make her feel better.

Finally, Dennis managed to get both hands on the back of the woman’s bra. He pulled as hard as he could and ripped the bra in two. Her breasts bounced free. Dennis noted that she had a nice rack. Her breasts were like the baby bear in the Goldilocks story- not too big, not too small, just right.

This victory spurred Dennis on to achieve the ultimate prize: the removal of the woman’s panties. As Dennis described his dream, I realized that he had never seen a woman’s naked crotch. We had been exposed to the same cheap men’s magazines, which featured mountains of bare breasts, but not one beaver shot. Seeing so many woman naked from the waist up, but never from the waist down, it was no wonder that Dennis would obsess over what a woman’s vagina looked like. He was fifteen and his hormones wanted an answer. In his dream, he was willing to fight for that answer.

I was lucky. I had a girlfriend who let me see hers. My dreams centered on my struggle to convince my girlfriend to let me put my penis inside her vagina. She was waiting for marriage before allowing anyone that privilege, so I could look, but not insert.

Dennis didn’t have much luck with women. Dennis didn’t have much luck with anything. His parents were divorced. His big brother picked on him. He had polio when he was an infant. He was born before the Salk vaccine reduced polio to the rarity it is today. For years, he had to wear leg braces. He was furious that he would always be a half-inch under five feet tall. How could a man ever make it with the ladies if he constantly worried about half an inch?

In his dream, Dennis continued to wrestle the woman. She was topless, which was nice, but it also made his mission harder because he had less clothing to grab hold of. They were both become covered in sweat and she kept slipping out of his arms. Dennis didn’t give up. Nothing was going to stop him from getting her panties off and finally seeing what was hidden inside them.

When the woman stopped to catch her breath, Dennis saw his chance. He reached down, grabbed a handful of panties and in one mighty tug, snatched them off her body.

What he saw between her legs shocked him. It was another breast. A smaller more compact breast than the pair on her chest, but a breast all the same. A vagina breast.

I smugly assured Dennis that a woman’s vagina did not resemble a small boob.

“I know that’s not what a vagina looks like,” Dennis said, defensively. “My mind filled in the blank with the only part of a woman’s anatomy I was familiar with.”

I offered to give Dennis a detailed description of female genitalia, but he refused. He wanted to find out for himself. Still, that vagina breast gave Dennis quite a shock.


jessica said...

You mean that' s NOT a breast? No wonder I can't find a bra for it!

This is like when my friends and I were pre-teens and we'd never heard the word "pubic," and the closest word was "public," so we called it "public hair."

Except it WASN'T, so how come it was CALLED that?

This is a funny as all get-out thread! More, please!

Mickey Dubrow said...

It's not a breast and there's a new ointment that will make it go away.

Anonymous said...

Strike while the iron is hot.