The Penis Dialogue by Chauna Myles

I’ll be honest. I’ve never seen the Vagina Monologues in its entirety. Just bits of the special on it and the Punany Poets on HBO years ago. At the time I remember thinking, ‘Do we really need to celebrate our vaginas? To talk about them for an hour? Really?’ But just recently a light bulb came on and I now understand. These women felt the need for a balance in power.

Why? Because we are constantly subjected to the Penis Dialogues. Our men’s constant need to discuss their manhood. They admire it. Discuss its attributes. Give it names like Mandingo, Conqueror, or just Jimmy. More importantly they need for us to be as enamored with it as they are.

The following is the first in a series of actual dialogues about the mighty member we know and love so well.

I awake early on a Saturday morning. Not because I wish to, but because the sun is spilling through the curtains, insisting that I arise. I roll over to find my husband is already up. I don’t have to look far to find him. He is standing stark naked in the mirror, fresh out of the shower. He is admiring his form. His strong shoulders, bulging biceps, flattening abdomen, and of course his manhood, which even when flaccid, is still quite impressive.

This, of course, takes us into another episode of the Penis Dialogues.

“Geez, are you staring at your dick again?” I yank the cover over my head, hoping to shield out some of the sunlight and catch a few more winks. Also hoping this will delay any ideas of an early morning romp until I’ve gotten a little more sleep and a chance to brush my teeth. “Has it grown or something?”

“No, I am not staring at my dick.” He manages to sound indignant. “And yes, I think it has gotten even bigger. But, you would know that better than me.” I can hear the smirk in his voice. Few things give him as much pride as discussing his manhood.

“It’s fabulous, really,” I say from under the cover. “But, I’m pretty sure it’s the same size.”

“Did I tell you what happened to me the other day?”

“No, what, Hon?” For a moment I delude myself into thinking we’re going to have a non-penis discussion from here.

He slips under the cover, still not a stitch of clothing on. Hint. Hint.

“The other day I’m at work talking to one of the workers about a problem we were having with one of the lines. Suddenly I realize she isn’t making eye contact. The entire time she is staring at my pants.”

I groan. “The entire time she’s just staring at it? Really? Are you sure she wasn’t just looking down at the floor or something?” My eyes barely peek out of the cover.

“C’mon, I think I know when someone is staring at my dick. It’s happened enough.”

“Oh my god, here we go again. Everyone is not looking at your dick, I assure you.” I sit upright.

“I don’t know,” he shakes his head smiling. “He gets a lot of looks.”

There we go. We are now in dick personification mode.

“Maybe you should go up a size in your coveralls,” I smile sweetly. “Then there won’t be so much emphasis on… y’know.”

“The coveralls fit fine,” he says. “Besides, it’s not just women. I get it all the time at urinals and in the locker room. A guy will be talking to me then all of a sudden he’s staring at it. I feel violated.”

He pulls the cover up under his arms, as if he is perhaps trying to shield his poor member from the pain of violation right now.

“Ahh… poor baby,” I say, snuggling up to him, trying to be as sympathetic as possible at this time of the morning. “So what did you do?”

“I put the clipboard over him,” he says. “She knew she was busted and her face got all red. She shouldn’t be a problem anymore.”

“Good job, Honey,” I say, much as I did when my son took his first dump in the potty nearly two decades ago. “Sounds like you’ve got it under control.”

He nods. He is still sulking because I didn’t take him seriously, but he wraps my arm around. I kiss him on the neck and cheek. He seems content and soon we are back to sleep.

Later, it is I that sing the praises of his member in very different Penis Dialogue. And I am forced to admit that today, in fact, it does seem bigger. Or maybe it’s just better.

Chauna Myles writes multicultural women’s fiction that embraces diversity and features plenty of sizzling-hot rendezvous. Her non-fiction writings embrace inclusion and a celebration of the unique beauty that every woman possesses. She is the Non-Fiction Editor here at Pink Nighties