The story of my nipples
It all started when I was 23 years old. I was still in the Air Force, living in Turkey and at the peak of my physical condition. I was pretty proud of myself. I was on the squadron basketball and softball teams. I did PT with my squadron. I had just got back from Iraq, and I had nothing but extra time on my hands to hit the gym extra hard (I also didn't have as much access to bad foods). To me, I looked GOOD. So one day I was doing my all-by-myself-in-my-dormroom flexes in the mirror when it hit me that I was missing something. I would look at least 8% better if I got my nipples pierced! That would put me over the top with my sexy! My boy OX had them and he was quite the lady's man. He was in great shape. My other homie Marco had gotten one nipple done, but he passed out from the pain and didn't get the other one. He had since removed it. I'm sure it couldn't be that bad though. And if I pass out, someone would wake me up and I'd get the other one done. It was settled. I would be getting my nipples pierced on my next trip into "The Alley" (strip of local Turkish shops just outside of the base). It should be cheap there.
I also had this dumb ass idea that I would get a tattoo in the alley. Time was soon coming to leave Turkey and I wouldn't find better prices. So I got a Tuborg red in me and went with Marco and some other homies down to the Alley. We found a tattoo parlor that was known for being good and hygienic. The guy told me he does piercings too and could do both for me for "low low price Abi". Cool. This is it. I laid back and had the most painful feeling in my life... TWICE. We filmed it as well, but I lost that camera. I didn't pass out at all, but I remember thinking that shit... HURT. He went on and tattooed me next, but that felt like he did it with a cotton swap thanks to my throbbing nipples. I was happy with my look. I was fit and had jewelry to accentuate the look I had been working hard for. The only thing was... Mr. Professional used a gauge that was too small. My nipples kept trying to heal themselves. The healing went on and on and on. If I took the piercing out, the hole would try and close up immediately. They swole up and leaked fluid from time to time. Something was wrong. It still looked good, but something was wrong.
I got to my next base in North Carolina. I joined the squadron basketball team and I knew I needed to get some games in first. Before going, I took the rings out. It was only a few games, right? When I was done, I hurried home and tried to put those suckers back in. NOPE. No way. They were swollen up too. I looked in the mirror. Oh no. Swole ass nipples that would require an explanation if I ever took my shirt off. I went to a tattoo parlor and asked a dude there to help me. He looked at the rings and said they were too thin. My body wouldn't react to them right. He could stretch the hole for me but it would hurt. I didn't care. I didn't want to be some freak with knuckle nipples. I had him do it. It hurt more than the original piercing!
Fast forward to Sweden. I moved here back when I got out of the military. I was trying to start up my new life. I had gotten out of shape and now the nipple rings just looked stupid. What was I thinking anyway. I was kind of over it. One night they were aggravating me and I said, "Fuck it." and took them out. Eventually I came to accept my knuckle nipples. It wasn't so bad after all.
Fast forward again to Canada. I'm on a trip to Niagara Falls with some friends that came to visit us in Jersey from Sweden. We are walking around the neighborhood near our hotel when I see a sign that reads: BODY PIERCING $10. I'm not one for turning down a good bargain. This was the answer. Go to a professional that uses the proper gauge. I was in pretty good shape again (not like in Turkey, but it was serviceable), and I could have a good excuse for having knuckle nipples. "Duh, they're pierced, of course they look big. psssh. Simpletons." I told the lady I had been pierced before in the hopes that she would go near the original holes. She didn't give a shit. She had things to do. She clamped, aimed and pierced. PAIN. But I had basically been through it twice already, so this was kind of easy. I looked at it and I was happy with the horseshoe rings, but I could see the old scar from the initial piercing. It was like my nipples were HD now. WTF? They were even bigger now! My nipples had nipples! This was some bullshit. How did this happen? These rings could never come out now. Let me check the other... Got DAMN the other one is at an angle and all the meat is behind the ring. This is a ten dollar tragedy. But I do like the rings. It's workable.
Fast forward again Sweden. I got back to Sweden and I couldn't walk past a damn doorway without catching one of my big ass nipples on the door jam. One ring looks like he's uncomfortable in there. The nipple looks like it's holding it's breath. The other ring and nipple had somehow decided to move the hole further towards the front of the nipple in some type of poorly-plotted prison escape. So I was back to, "Fuck it." I took the piercings out. Maybe my body just wasn't down for it after all.
Now my nipples sit swollen on my chest like two wounded kidney beans. Every now and then they get in the way. I have literally accidentally grabbed my nipple. I'm half-asleep on my stomach, arm under my body, and I go to scratch my ribs. What do I get? Handful of nipple. It serves me right. I should have left swole enough alone. Now I have swole ass nipples that require an explanation if I ever take my shirt off. I'll start directing people to this blog. Until next time friends...
I also had this dumb ass idea that I would get a tattoo in the alley. Time was soon coming to leave Turkey and I wouldn't find better prices. So I got a Tuborg red in me and went with Marco and some other homies down to the Alley. We found a tattoo parlor that was known for being good and hygienic. The guy told me he does piercings too and could do both for me for "low low price Abi". Cool. This is it. I laid back and had the most painful feeling in my life... TWICE. We filmed it as well, but I lost that camera. I didn't pass out at all, but I remember thinking that shit... HURT. He went on and tattooed me next, but that felt like he did it with a cotton swap thanks to my throbbing nipples. I was happy with my look. I was fit and had jewelry to accentuate the look I had been working hard for. The only thing was... Mr. Professional used a gauge that was too small. My nipples kept trying to heal themselves. The healing went on and on and on. If I took the piercing out, the hole would try and close up immediately. They swole up and leaked fluid from time to time. Something was wrong. It still looked good, but something was wrong.
I got to my next base in North Carolina. I joined the squadron basketball team and I knew I needed to get some games in first. Before going, I took the rings out. It was only a few games, right? When I was done, I hurried home and tried to put those suckers back in. NOPE. No way. They were swollen up too. I looked in the mirror. Oh no. Swole ass nipples that would require an explanation if I ever took my shirt off. I went to a tattoo parlor and asked a dude there to help me. He looked at the rings and said they were too thin. My body wouldn't react to them right. He could stretch the hole for me but it would hurt. I didn't care. I didn't want to be some freak with knuckle nipples. I had him do it. It hurt more than the original piercing!
Fast forward to Sweden. I moved here back when I got out of the military. I was trying to start up my new life. I had gotten out of shape and now the nipple rings just looked stupid. What was I thinking anyway. I was kind of over it. One night they were aggravating me and I said, "Fuck it." and took them out. Eventually I came to accept my knuckle nipples. It wasn't so bad after all.
Fast forward again to Canada. I'm on a trip to Niagara Falls with some friends that came to visit us in Jersey from Sweden. We are walking around the neighborhood near our hotel when I see a sign that reads: BODY PIERCING $10. I'm not one for turning down a good bargain. This was the answer. Go to a professional that uses the proper gauge. I was in pretty good shape again (not like in Turkey, but it was serviceable), and I could have a good excuse for having knuckle nipples. "Duh, they're pierced, of course they look big. psssh. Simpletons." I told the lady I had been pierced before in the hopes that she would go near the original holes. She didn't give a shit. She had things to do. She clamped, aimed and pierced. PAIN. But I had basically been through it twice already, so this was kind of easy. I looked at it and I was happy with the horseshoe rings, but I could see the old scar from the initial piercing. It was like my nipples were HD now. WTF? They were even bigger now! My nipples had nipples! This was some bullshit. How did this happen? These rings could never come out now. Let me check the other... Got DAMN the other one is at an angle and all the meat is behind the ring. This is a ten dollar tragedy. But I do like the rings. It's workable.
Fast forward again Sweden. I got back to Sweden and I couldn't walk past a damn doorway without catching one of my big ass nipples on the door jam. One ring looks like he's uncomfortable in there. The nipple looks like it's holding it's breath. The other ring and nipple had somehow decided to move the hole further towards the front of the nipple in some type of poorly-plotted prison escape. So I was back to, "Fuck it." I took the piercings out. Maybe my body just wasn't down for it after all.
Now my nipples sit swollen on my chest like two wounded kidney beans. Every now and then they get in the way. I have literally accidentally grabbed my nipple. I'm half-asleep on my stomach, arm under my body, and I go to scratch my ribs. What do I get? Handful of nipple. It serves me right. I should have left swole enough alone. Now I have swole ass nipples that require an explanation if I ever take my shirt off. I'll start directing people to this blog. Until next time friends...
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