A Pussy to Avoid at All Costs
Speaking of costs, nothing is truly free in this world, but this day I was willing to pay 20 bucks to get a little pussy in the cab of my pick-up truck. I had cruised this street in SW Washington, DC many times. There were always new girls, mostly black, mostly young and the cops didn't patrol it much.
This girl, I'll call her Latoya, was strolling 12th Street running her game in a short black skirt. Nice boobs and even though she was too thick to be a model, she had a beautiful ass, round and high. We made eye contact in that way that only means yes. I pulled over and let her in. Of course she was careless on purpose and flashed her panties, stark white against her dark brown skin.
We drove into an ally behind a warehouse out of sight of houses and anyone walking by. Latoya reached over and started tracing her fingers up and down my growing hard dick. She wasn't a talker, but I wasn't looking for a deep conversation. After a few strokes, I opened my pants and sliped them down to my ankles as she continued to stroke me through my jockey shorts.
I was afraid I was going to cum before I got to Latoya, I reached over and pulled her left leg up onto the seat, which spread her legs apart. I put the badk of my right hand right in the center of her crotch and started to move it around slowly in the hope that she would feel or at least fake some excitement.
But what I felt with the back of my hand was not the smooth soft folds of a woman's labia. Stop. I know what you're thinking - I had picked up a transvestite - but you're wrong. And I removed Latoya's panties to see for myself.
This was some used-up pussy, poor girl. Someone had given her a world-class case of genital warts that looked like a thick scaly crust all over her twat. There were outgrowths, some a half inch long in spots. I made the instant good decision that my dick was NEVER going in there!
Now I still had a horny dick to do something with, so I finished the job by hand by myself. Latoya watched, but I didn't invite her to participate. Even I have some limitations. I fired a good load too. Maybe the fear of catching her disease made all of this a degree more exciting.
I wiped myself clean with a McDonalds napkin and took Latoya back to the street corner. I never saw her again, and I feel bad for her. She got her twenty bucks, and I got a story...nothing more.