An Outcaste

My vagina is non judgmental, everyone comes and goes, but to my vagina, it really doesn't matter. My vagina just feels pleasure at having them over, without thinking of their gender/race/caste/creed/color/sect/religion/...for my vagina can`t stand loneliness; not that she is a society-slut or an attention-whore or something similar to that, because she simply lacks the intention for it, but its because my vagina can’t give shape to her thoughts all alone, without feeling that something is horribly wrong, her walls sweating in exasperation. Its like a nicotine craving in the gums, making `em itch.

But my vagina has no qualms about it, she considers herself as the owner of an open house, deriving satisfaction simply in their presence and getting kicks from the ruckus they create in there. But as even the most satisfied owners of highly happening open houses can lose themselves forever and ever completely in a single moment of noiseless pensiveness, I think my vagina is secretly creating a tunnel behind the open house, for she believes she can take hold of someplace, which people never leave.

Now this can be highly dangerous, for what if this exploring vagina mine meets the dissatisfied gums, at the time when I am not smoking? And they both decide to settle down in my mouth till they actually figure out WHAT is actually wrong, leading to further horrifying possibilities, like an uncontrolled chain reaction?

I think, I will stuff my vagina with all sorts of things and people so she can never lose herself in the subsequent insistent clamor that will resound forever and ever within the confines of her walls.