Gather around children and I shall tell you a tale, an amusing, yet horrifying, account of my personal encounter with the wart. An encounter that would scar me for life.
The year was around 2000. The millennium; a new century and a world full of opportunities. As for me, I was a recent college grad and was living in a run down rental house with a couple of roommates. I had landed a day job doing web design for a company, and most of my evenings were spent loafing in my bedroom with a beer resting cheerfully on my gut as I merrily typed away in an IRC channel.
One of my other roommates would hang out in the same channel and the evenings would be filled with us merrily clacking away at keyboards while we listened to the newfound technology known as 'MP3'. We chatted with whatever buffoons showed up in the channel, but our ulterior motives were the same: find some chicks.
My roommate eventually met a sweet lady online who would ultimately become his wife. He casually dated her for a while and they hit it off pretty good. She was a pretty nice girl, however she had a 'friend'. I, still being single and sniffing out an opening, tried to home in on the 'friend'. It seemed like a good opportunity, I was friends with my roommate, his girl was friends with this other girl, why not maneuver myself in?
Sounds nice and homey, right?
It was not.
Let me take a moment to describe this friend and I,,,ll let the readers gauge my sad level of desperation.
She was a divorcee who had recently moved back into her parent,,,s house, with a kid (or two, I cannot recall) in tow. She was around my age, in my mid
to late twenties, but the lines on her face had indicated a life much harsher and filled with many more parties that had ever occurred in my own. She had admittedly done some hard drugs in her past, and frankly it showed on her face.
She was a thin girl, but it was the deflated muscle-reduced skinniness that comes from a diet high in crack and meth. You know that picture floating around the Internet of the ten years of mug shots of a woman who smoked meth? Well, she was roughly picture number two.
Maybe three.
She liked to dress in slinky outfits with her hair up in pony tails that excluded the sexual aura that, in a dim bar at two in the morning with roughly a gallon of beer under your belt, one might find appealing.
OK, enough beating around the bush. She was trashy. She was real trashy. As an example of how trashy she was, you know those small caravans of bums that sometimes appear in abandoned shopping malls and patches of woods housed between urban centers? Yeah, well, she knew those bums by name. She would actually ride her bike over and hang out with these bums and revel in their attentions.
Sigh. Now I am depressing myself. What was I thinking?
So, I tried hitting on her. Several times, actually, at various parties and gatherings. Much to my annoyance, I actually failed. I mean, I was scraping the bottom of the barrel here.
Then, one night, She and my friends girl invited us over to her parents house, whom were out of town for the night. I had no hint of this earlier, but apparently the girl had hit some peak of horniness and had decided to relieve herself on me.
I am trying to recall other details of the evening. They are dim. I do know that at one point she had brought out a box that contained some precious booze of her fathers. I forget exactly what it was, some sort of whiskey I suppose. All I remember was that the bottles were ancient and crusted over, and when I took a shot of it I experienced a wave of nausea. It was disgusting. I had a bizarre image in my mind that the old man who owned that bottle enjoyed taking a deep sip of it, swishing it about in his mouth, and then cheerfully spitting it back into the bottle to enjoy at a later date.
I suppose the girls were trying to liquor us up, but all it did was left me feeling sick.
Eventually my friend and his girl disappeared and I ended up in a back bedroom making with this crack whore. Sweet, thought I, I am going to get some.
We made out for a bit. The room was dark except for the fait glow of a computer screen that was perpetually tuned to an IRC channel. I slithered on top of her, kissing her, and I managed to pull off first her shirt and then her bra. She was a rather flat chested girl, and I worked my tongue to her breast and found her nipple.
Thinking myself quite the Casanova at the time, I found her nipple in my mouth and gently sucked on it and teased it with my teeth. Boy, I sure love nipples, I though, as I went to work.
After a moment I realized I was not hearing any sounds of pleasure, and I lifted my face up. My eyes, in the dim light, suddenly focused on something right in front of them.
It was a nipple.
However, it was not the nipple I had been sucking on.
Pulling my head up in confusion, I looked down at the bare chest before me and saw, much to my great horror that it was not a nipple I had been sucking on...
It was a wart.
You know that camera trick they do in movies where they zoom back while moving forward, creating a disoriented and dramatic view? That is what happened to me with this wart. The rest of my vision shut down and my worldview centered upon this protruding monstrosity of flesh that I had just suckled.
In fact, it was the biggest wart I had ever seen, and I had just given it a bunch of tongue-love. It was a beastly wart that happily squatted on the lower part of her breast, just a few inches away from her nipple. My eyes darting around, I quickly spied out a few more warts on her chest that had quietly been watching my antics like curious villagers.
I was already feeling sick from pops nasty boozer stash that I had indulged in earlier. You would think that the realization that I had just been sucking on a wart would have heaved me over the edge to pukesville. In reality I had over shot pukesville by a few light years. I was drifting in a zone of horror and disgust that no mere mortal should ever experience. It was as if the insides of me had suddenly shriveled up into dust. I was no longer buzzed. I was no longer sexually excited. I was dead inside. I was an empty shell of a man.
Sadly, I tried to go ahead and get my funk on. However, my manhood had taken one good look at those warts and had said 'I am out of here' and packed his bag and put on his traveling hat and hopped the nearest train. I was left with all the glory of a can of dog food plopped onto a plate.
Eventually we gave up, and she went back to her IRC chat room while I laid there, a broken man.
We never tried again. I never tried again. The horror that I had cheerfully sucked on a wart was baggage that I would have to carry with me for the rest of my life. And mind you, from that time forward, I always carefully checked out a woman,,,s breast to make sure I would not relive the same nightmare.
This is my wart story. I cannot imagine anything else that could possible compare.
Actual photo of wart-girl
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