The First 100 “Girls” (#9)
Girl #9: Mutant-Pussy Christina Uguilera Girl
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Date: September 2000
Age: 19
Height: 5’6”
Weight: 95 lbs
Hair: Blonde and Long
Eyes: Blue
Rating: 6.5 out of 10
It was now the middle of September 2000. Girl #8 was sent home and I was on the hunt for the next one. It was a Sunday and I picked Girl #9 at the ferry dock. This was within a couple of days after we had met online in a now closed down chatroom. She was the second and the last girl I met in those old chatrooms. I think we talked on the phone a couple of times, but those conversations were brief because I wasn’t really interested in actually trying to get to know her. I knew enough. She was more than excited to meet me. Mind you, I hadn’t even shown her my picture. I didn’t see a picture of her either, but she described herself and I figured she couldn’t be that bad. We made plans for me to go pick her up and I told her that she could stay the night if she wanted to. Before making those plans, I made sure we had the necessary talk about sex. We knew if she still was staying over then fucking was a given. The thing is, I’m charming.
I drove about an hour to get to the ferry dock. She got off the ferry, a skinny girl with straight long hair and a backpack. She had the long blonde hair that looked like the 2000 era Christina Aguilera, which I loved back then. At the time, my friend gave her the “Uguilera” nickname because she was a cheap version of Christina. But she wasn’t ugly at all. She had big blue eyes, sexy lips, and a really slim body. She was actually the kind of girl I liked and wanted. She too would have had a higher rating if it weren’t for the issues I will reveal.
We walked up to each other and I gave her a hug to make us both feel a little more comfortable and to get the touching going. We exchanged our “hellos” and proceeded to my car. I took her to dinner at some crap ass restaurant by the mall on the way home. We ate and talked a bit. Unfortunately, as I found out days before on the phone, she had a really dumb voice. If you have ever seen the Seinfeld episode, “The Burning” (Season 9, Episode 16), you would have an idea of her voice. In that episode, Jerry calls his girlfriend Sophie, but she doesn’t recognize that it’s him. She thinks he’s another friend and discusses her secret “tractor story.” Jerry realizes that she thinks he’s someone else and begins talking in this goofy voice to sound generic. Anyways, that was her voice. Watch the episode. Even though her voice was intolerable, I reminded myself that I wasn’t looking for another relationship, so it made it easier not to throw her out of my car. I just let the “dull stoner dude voice” go for now.
After we ate, we drove an hour back to my house, which was far away from any civilization. Don’t ever buy a place with a girl you don’t like and get stuck with a ridiculous house. Actually, don’t ever buy a house with a girl you don’t like, far away from everything on the fucking planet. We arrived at my house and went directly into my bedroom. There wasn’t really anything else to do at my house, since Girl #7 took everything from the house when she fled. I think she left me a couch. But I didn’t want to just sit on the couch with her. Because that would mean I would have to talk to her. Which would mean I would have to hear her voice. I suggested a movie. I still had a tv in my room. I don’t even remember what we watched, or didn’t watch. I just remember fucking. I would say it was maybe like 15 or 20 minutes and I had my dick in her. Before the insertion, I went down on her. Now listen, at that time I had licked and sucked many pussies in my life. But, this one was new to me. I’m not sure if there are a lot of girls out there with this thing I will tell you about. Or if I just found the one mutant pussy in the universe. I’ll get back to that part of her crotch later. So she was very tight. The absolute tightest girl I had humped up to that point. Small ass, small boobs, and a very sexy over-all body. We rolled around fucking for a while. When it was over, we watched the movie. The sex was good. Although she was quiet, she winced and groaned a bit. But hey, it beat listening to her voice. We took a shower together and we fucked in there too, and then back to bed.
I had to go to work the next morning. I told her that I could drop her off at the dock, or she could stay at my house and wait for me to come home. She wanted to stay. She had brought a few pieces of clothing in her backpack, including panties, a bra, and a shirt or two. I think she knew she was staying a while, or just hopeful. Mostly she walked around half naked or in my clothes for the days she was there. But then there were her damn pants. She had one pair of silver pants. That’s all she wore the whole time I knew her. Not just at my house, but every time I saw her, ever. I don’t think she had anything else, just these shiny club pants that were actually big on her. The girl was a less than size 00. I guess maybe she couldn’t ever find any fucking pants.
We fucked every night while she was there. One night when I arrived home she had cooked for me. We had discussed her making a tuna casserole since I had the ingredients there already. So she made the casserole and I was almost impressed. Then I realized that she put olives in the casserole. Now, I like olives. But black olives in a tuna casserole seemed a bit immature. Besides her pasta inadequacies, it was nice having her around to use as a fuck doll. But after a week or so, I told her I needed her to go away for a few days. She was sad because I think she wanted me to ask her to stay forever, and she liked my cock. She was one of those people who didn’t really have anything. No job, not a lot of friends. She still lived with her parents, but I don’t think they cared much. Either did I. So I dropped her tight little ass off at the ferry dock. She had to take a boat back over to her side of the water. There was a way to drive 90 minutes around and over a bridge to drop her off. But who would really want to drive with her that long? We would have to talk. And I remind you, the less this girl gets to speak, the better.
I went about my life for a few days, but found myself yearning for her deformed vagina. So let me tell the story of her abnormal mutant clit. I’m not talking about a clit that is really fat or big. And I am definitely not talking about that little penis clit I saw on some website that women can get when doing steroids. This girl had a string-like gummy worm flap of skin. I would suck on it, pull it, and chew it. It was bizarre. It came from the top of her pussy and went down on the side. I think maybe she could put it inside herself if she wanted to. Maybe she was a new evolved kind of girl that doesn’t need a man. She can just insert her own artificial penis. No guy needed, therefore no need to worry about when her ass will be dropped off at the ferry dock again.
I fetched her back to my house. In fact, she came over many times over the next month. I went on with my sexual explorations and brought her to my house in between girls. Then she started weighing on me. I tried not to let her “weird extras” get to me. I ignored it all because she had a tight pussy. But she was just losing her prestige, if she had any to begin with. And I was tiring of her wormy-cunt-leech. I already had to deal with her voice, the pants, and the excess hair. Oh, did I forget to mention the hair? Not the sexy natural blonde hair on her head that accentuated her gorgeous blue eyes. We’re talking about deviant body hair. Women should never have hair around their cunt, ass, nipples, lips, or on their chin. Got it? At all. Ever. She was mostly shaved down below, but for some reason she decided it was ok to have a landing strip. Now, I have seen landing strips that were done without offending anyone. But let me tell you of this one. She had a rectangular box right above her pussy. Tolerable sometimes, right? Yes, but not when the hair is like 3 inches long. I will sometimes forgive a girl who doesn’t know how to use a razor completely. But there is no forgiving a girl if she lets that little patch grow so long that it looks and feels like the hair on one of those Troll Dolls that we had when we were kids. It had a mind of its own and it was getting in the way. It started competing with my pecker on who wanted the pussy more. I had to lick my hand and stroke back the hair so it would stay out of the way when I was going down there to visit my salamander-clit friend. It was just plain strange. And then there were her nipples. She had hair stubble around her nipples. I could tell she shaved it and it would keep coming back. I began to realize that throughout my excursions with this girl, I had been introduced to many different obstacles. From her constant club pants, to olive-laden casserole, to the voice, and her unwarranted nipple spikes. All of those things, although completely unacceptable, paled in comparison to her chin hair. We are talking about visible chin hair. Not just simple peach fuzz on the chin, but thick blonde hair protruding from her chin. Why did I not notice the hair before? Maybe I didn’t spend much time looking at her and kissing her face. Maybe I always knew it was there, but I was just embarrassed for her. I figured she would wax it, pluck it, or hire the Italian Mafia to just make it disappear. But it stayed. And like the follicley-challenged hair on her landing strip, it just seemed to keep growing. How could I keep fucking this girl who had all of these issues? And to top it off, she wanted me to be her boyfriend. Enough is enough.
I saw her a couple of more times to see if she might have fixed her problems, so I could keep fucking her. She hadn’t. It was now late October 2000 and I figured it was time to move on. There were more girls to explore. She was too much trouble to get back and forth and I didn’t want her staying over all of the time.
After screwing one more time I decided to end things. She cried as I told her that we would never be together. She pleaded and begged for me not to forget about her. She even said, “Will you please be my boyfriend?” In my head, I replied,“Not by the hair of your chinny, chin, chin.” I then dropped her off at the dock and told her to lose my number. I figured I might miss my distorted-crotch-lizard, but it gave me a new quest. Perhaps I would search the world for another girl who had one.
In February 2001, while dating Girl #17, we spoke again. I went and picked her up and took her to my new home to fuck. She still had all of the unbearable issues. After that, I only spoke to her one last time briefly on the phone to make sure she wasn’t pregnant. Oh that voice. Then I never talked to her or saw her ever again.
To Be Continued….
