Penelope Clearwater had never seen her vagina. Neither had anyone else, except her mom, and maybe her Chihuahua, Pickles. Penelope was a virginal 21-year-old legal secretary who had never even touched “down there” due to the unfortunate reality that she was raised a strict Catholic. Yet things had seemed a bit less black and white of late. Her colors had taken on a more grey hue after her office-mate, Victoria, started reading Fifty Shades of Grey.
“This is the biggest pile of shit I have ever read,” pronounced Victoria over a bologna sandwich while sitting cross-legged at her desk. “The writer came up with this bile after reading Twilight; I shit you not, the monster has begun to spawn.” She lifted a chunk of bologna to her pouty lips and sucked. The pages of the book, balanced in her right hand, looked wrinkled, as if someone had enjoyed a bath with it while reading.
Penelope crossed her legs and stared at her fingers wondering if Catholics were allowed to listen to this kind of book being reviewed. The boss yelled for coffee. Victoria ignored him.
“Anastasia, the lead character, had never had sex before, but now that she’s getting spanked, banged, and having twisted sex with Mr. Ginormo Dick and she’s coming in her sleep. Right. If I had a shot every time she came I’d have alcohol poisoning.”
Penelope bit her lip. What exactly does one do during twisted sex, she wondered
“Don’t do that—don’t bite your lip,” ordered Victoria. “Ana—‘my inner goddess talks me to me’-stacia does that, like, 150 times in the novel.”
“Inner goddess my ass,” Victoria hissed as the boss yelled again. “My inner goddess wants to bitch-slap our boss.”
Penelope couldn’t stop thinking about bitch-slapping HER boss – the legalistic, self-righteous snob in her head that kept telling her not to peek at her pussy. So, after work, she went to the Brevard County Library where the book had been banned and then re-instated due to public demand. Unfortunately, there was a waiting list to borrow a copy. She settled for “The Complete Idiots Guide to the Kama Sutra,” and locked herself in the women’s bathroom with it.
Sitting on the toilet, she opened the book. There, before her virgin eyes, was a ginormo dick. Next to that fine specimen was a vagina. Holy shit. Penelope gaped. Does that thing actually fit in that little hole? She took out the mirror, pulled down her GAP beige slacks and Spanx and, for the first time in her un-sexy, rosary-chanting life, Penelope studied her sex. Then she touched it. Then she stared at the penis picture. It clicked. That thing went in there. Oh, my. That was so . . . hot. Then, suddenly, her inner boss voice blasted through her head. “Whore!” it screamed.
Slamming the book shut, she fled from the library. Her inner-goddess wasn’t ready to bitch-slap her inner-boss . . .yet.