The Politics of Punani

Sometimes my pillow talk feels like a presidential debate.  Two relatively sane adults playing nice while not so subtly plotting to get their own way.  Though Jim Lehrer isn’t usually the moderator of my mattress, and I’m generally quite happy when my coital opponent goes over the 2-minute timer, I’m too often left feeling much like an undecided voter…as if the more aggressive candidate doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing, and the smart one isn’t getting the job done.

Jobs.  The buzzword of almost any election season.  We talk a lot about jobs in my line of work too…hand, blow, snow, the trickle-down (use your imagination with that one).  And just like out there, in here on my couch, a lotta folks really want one, but have given up trying to find a good one. Which brings me to my patient, Lilly (names are changed to protect the not-so-innocent). 

Lilly has started to develop a pretty significant resentment against her boyfriend…we’ll call him Border-Crossing-Chris.  Lilly’s been working overtime with all her jobs, particularly hand and blow.  In the politics of punani, Lilly has taken reaching across the aisle to a whole new level.  The poor girl has developed a pretty serious case of carpal tunnel and is well on her way to permanent lockjaw, all in the name of appeasement.  And for all her hard work, Chris just heads straight across the border !!!  He does not pass GO, does not collect $200, just guns it for the punani promised land.  Well.  Lilly’s had enough.  She’s secured her southern border so tight -- Arizona is calling her for ideas.  Now, nothing’s getting in. But Lilly’s orgasm is dying to get out!  How do Lilly and Chris cross the punani political divide and save their sex life?

I have to reach into the annals of my own political history to help my patients, but often, they end up helping me.  Lilly and Chris’s problem forces me to ask myself, in the arena of intercourse discourse, have I been too politically correct with the punani?

Maybe I made nice a little bit too often, when I should have more aggressively asserted my needs.  C’mon, girls, who amongst us hasn’t let the south rise again…and again…and again…all the while, wishing our partners would be a bit more united in the state of our unions and pay more attention to the rest of the landscape?  What about the East Coast?  Or the West? Personally, I’d like a little more attention paid to the Black Hills of Tennessee! Though I counseled Lilly to verbalize to Chris her desire to add zones 1,2, and 3 to their foreplay, I must admit, with my ex, sometimes I kinda voted absentee.  I mailed it in.  Licked it, stamped it, and just let him ram it my box.

Lilly took my advice and finally told Chris the truth.  She's now opened up her border again, and Chris has promised her no illegal entry.  The truth is, Chris and Lilly's punani peace treaty has made me realize how, in the past, I’ve preferred to leave the debates to the presidential candidates and the arguing to the pundits.   But if I’m going to find my deepest orgasm in the next 364 days, I’m going to have to get to the point and stop playing politics with the punani, i.e., stop talking about what the last guy did wrong, and start talking about what I really want. And, more importantly, what I’m willing to do to get it.