Ride Share Slut

Short stories about women that love circumcised men.
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Ride Share Slut

Postby Cufflinks » Mon May 29, 2017 10:24 am

Ride Share Slut

Vanessa shifted awkwardly in the passenger seat of my old Saab 900 as we made our way home to our village along the curvy road up from Trondheim. Her long, tattooed legs were accentuated by the scandalously skimpy jeans shorts she was wearing under her black biker jacket. They had lace linings which seemed to say, “...and by the way, here you can see my underwear, too.” Her hair was colored bright orange, and she wore a nose ring.

“Thanks for giving me a lift home for the weekend,” she laughed, “I’d find it impossible to drive right now. Those new piercings are catching on my clothing every time I move. Damn, why can’t I wear skirts?”

But we knew why she couldn’t wear skirts, of course. Vanessa was probably the toughest staff member we had, usually riding a motorcycle, and she was a lesbian. Best mechatronics expert in the county, we thought. She opened the front zipper of her motorcycle jacket, partly revealing her boobs.

“You don’t mind, do you?” she said, massaging her nipple piercings, “among us men, haha!”

Lesbian or not, she was very attractive. Late twenties, tall and slender, beautiful eyes. I swallowed hard and tried to concentrate on the road. It was beginning to get dark.

“What is it about piercings that fascinates you?” I asked her, to get past the awkward moment. She thought about her answer for a while. “I think it’s the amplification of sensation,” she said. “With piercings, you really feel those parts of your body where they are. Anything to make me feel more in erogenous zones is welcome.”

We rode in silence for a while. “I even just had my clit hood split today for that purpose,” she said then, and unbuckled her skimpy denim shorts. “This won’t take a minute, just look straight ahead; I need to check if all is well down there, it’s been stinging like a bastard. Good, no blood,” she said, inspecting her hand in the dim light of the dashboard after bringing her hand back out of her shorts, openly displaying her boobs to me while inspecting her new nipple piercings at close range.

“Splitting the clit hood frees the clit, so it gets a lot more contact during sex, you know?”

“Kind of like circumcision for a man?” I ventured.

“Exactly,” she said with enthusiasm, “although they really take off a lot of skin when they do it to guys. A clit hood split is just a small cut, and I can still fold the two bits over the clit to hide it; for guys though, it’s like... the whole thing is all the way out, all the time.”

“I know,” I said, which made her leer at me sideways.

“Show it to me,” she said. My head spinning from the way the conversation had gone anyway, it seemed a wise idea to give the old turbo some rest. I pulled into a parking bay around the next turn of the road and switched off the engine. My penis was rock hard in her slender hands before I could even notice she had unzipped me. She ran her black painted fingernails over my glans.

“If my clit was that far out, I don’t know what I’d do,” she said. “Probably wear skirts. Look at that large bulb of innervated, throbbing sexuality. And someone has taken a scalpel and removed its protective sleeve, entirely, without thought as to how that might feel when you wear underwear. Damn, that’s hot.” She grabbed the penis at the base and pushed the shaft skin toward the glans. “Hot damn... it won’t even reach the candy part. That’s a good one-inch gap between the scar and the glans, even with me pushing up hard. That surgeon must have been one sick fuck. That’s clearly a sadist move, to cut it so short you can’t wank with it anymore. All the way around, too. But it sure is clean...”

Without warning, she wrapped her lips around it and moved in ways that seemed to indicate plenty of experience with men. Before I could do anything about it, I had come all over her hair and breasts. This seemed to please her, and she made me reciprocate in the backseat. We finally ended up doing a lot of that on that weekend, coming to think of it.

Curious how some things can overcome divides.
Some people’s opinion one simply cannot change. Mine, for example.
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