Not me, but I did wince
This, as you can tell, is the story of someone else's (self inflicted) genital adventure. It is also the story of how I saw my first vagina. Excuse me if at any point this starts sounding like underage lesbian porn.

At the tender age of fourteen, I discovered that I could get served in the skanky alternative pub in the town near where I grew up. I say 'pub', the place was called Cellar Bar, and was indeed a bar in a cellar. A damp one. Sometimes with rats. Nevertheless, you avoided the chavs, the music was good and the shots were £1 each. Also, the barstaff were lax about IDing their patrons, since half the bar were 16 year old goths. Anyway, I was relatively innocent, and also at that stage where my friends were all getting belly button piercings. In the ladies, I remember asking a stranger what she thought about them, given my unpopular opinion that were tacky. The stranger was a gothy looking girl, fairly pretty, and would a few years later probably have inspired some more serious flirtation on my part. At this point, though, she just grinned at my innocent little face, and asked if I wanted to see her piercings. Sure, why not?

Still grinning the grin of one who is about to provide a lasting mental image, she sat elegantly on the sink in front of me, parted her legs and lifted her skirt to show me her two matching rows of labial rings, five in each lip.

Which were carefully laced up with a shiny black ribbon.
(That's Just Not Funny, Thu 20 Jul 2006, 21:24, Reply)