Circumcised when I was fourteen, it was ‘the cut’ or probably no Dick at all if I’d left medical attention for any longer. I’ve only ever had one negative reaction from a woman on sight. Her surprised exclamation of ‘Oh! Shit, you’re circumcised’ wasn’t because of any particular taste like dislike or inclination she had but because the meal she was warming on the hob for us to share was Greek and stuffed full with pork.
All’s well that ends well and after the realisation that she wouldn’t have to send out for a Friday night west London Kosher or Halal Pizza she turned her attention to comforting me following my recent circumcision operation twelve years earlier. A lovely woman with a skilled mouth and kindly tongue her ministrations almost cost us that Greek meal and perhaps worse as it continued to bubble away on the hob until almost too late. I did point out to her if she went too far with her comforting I might not be able to meet her immediate requirement and she kindly responded by saying that her cooking would take care of that and as it was a public holiday Monday long weekend I had plenty of time to make things good, teaching me that it’s not just guys who can be manipulative when it comes to sex.