When I was a younger Snapper
I was at university doing an honours degree and there was a very attractive ginger girl, I'll call her Katie (yep, that's why), in most of my classes.

She had already done a law degree and was tight of arse and firm of breast. Tidy all round. She also had a penchant for 501s, low cut tops, and a rather fetching green denim style jacket. All very 90s and at the time, yummy.

I'd done a Bachelor's degree at a country university, so with some - much - begging and badgering, we went out for a while.

One night we got busy.

Groping, stroking, clothing removed. Pork sword at the ready, I prepared for insertion.

(One has to remember that back in the mid 90s in Melbourne, a Brazilian was someone from Brazil. Bare pubic regions were seen only in scratchy VHS erotic movies, and then rarely.)

Then I saw it.

A thick thatch of red pubic hair. I was scared. Would it hurt? Was it as hot as it looked? Would the purple pounding warhead come out with a new colour? Would my own pubic hair catch 'ginger' and change as well?

To make a long story short, insertion happened, and, if I must say, I was excellent.

Not much happened to my willie except what was meant to happen. It was enjoyable for both of us. She's a lawyer now. I'm not.
(Snapper-head loves a twinky anytime but especially when it's, Fri 26 Feb 2010, 5:05, Reply)