Sunday, April 14, 2013

Is Oral Sex more intimate? Where we finally talk about Blow Jobs!

Oral sex. Giving head. "Going down upon." Is it safe to say that most people would much rather receive than give? Probably. Of course there are the connoisseurs out there. The cock worshippers. The pussy lovers. There are those for whom giving that kind of pleasure to someone else is more of a turn on than getting it themselves. 

And as with most sexual acts, it can totally depend on the situation, the person you're with, the mood you're in. But it seems that oral sex is one of the first things to go in the sexual life of a marriage or a long-term relationship. It becomes something to avoid. A treat doled out on special occasions. The birthday blow job! Stand-up comedians by the hundreds can attest to this fact. No one is getting enough oral sex. Could it be because oral sex is such an incredibly intimate act, and intimacy, sexual or otherwise, is something that often fades over time in a long-term relationship? Or could it be that people, men and women, often can't work up the desire to perform oral sex unless they are really aroused, and that doesn't happen as often as it used to?

And there is also the unfortunate circumstance prevalent today, where young people (and I'm talking young, like jr. high) are engaging in oral sex very casually. Like it's second base. I don't know if it's something they do to put off actual intercourse, or if it's girls giving it out more than boys, or if it's a form of birth control to them (no one ever got pregnant from sucking a cock!) but it's really unfortunate. On so many levels. One of which is the sad fact that when a whole generation or more puts oral sex into the category of "no big deal" they miss out on the pure physical and emotional arousal that can come from giving something so intimate to another person.

Because it is arousing, isn't it? Oral sex, to me, is even more intimate than sex sex. There is something so visceral about using your mouth, your lips, your tongue with its tens of thousands of tastebuds, to stimulate someone's cock or pussy. Your face so close to the dark, musky sex of someone else's body. Every sense is engaged: You see, quite up close, the beautiful cock or pussy of your lover, those "private parts" that usually remain private ... every fold of skin, every hair, the beautiful and random hues of skin color. You breathe in that unmistakable musky aroma of sex and skin and desire, it is such a heady, human smell, that odor of arousal. You use your hands to touch, a complement to your mouth, stroking soft skin, gripping ass, pushing fingers into dark damp places to heighten the sensation. And oh yes, taste, perhaps the most engaged sense of them all, how delicious the taste .. first of salty skin and then the heady taste of musky wetness, the taste when you've taken your lovers cum on your tongue, tasted it all the way back in your throat, the taste of pure sex and, oh god, what can be better than hearing the moans of the person you are licking, sucking, biting, when you know that something you are actively doing is bringing them so much pleasure! And that last gasp, grunt, shout when they empty themselves into your warm, waiting mouth ...

Being submissive ... I don't know if it's different for me. Do I get more from the experience of pleasuring him with my mouth? Taking him into me, worshipping, showing my devotion to him by how much I long, and love, to please in this way? I know I dream about it sometimes. It can be such an amazingly subservient act, especially when you do it on your knees, naked, looking up at him while your mouth is full of him, and see him staring intently down at you.

There is a quote from that controversial erotic novel "The Story of O" from the 1950s, that I find quite powerful:

The three men, who were smoking, commented on her gestures, on the movement of her mouth closed and locked on the sex she had seized, as it worked its way up and down, on the way tears streamed down her ravaged face each time the swollen member struck the back of her throat and made her gag, depressing her tongue and causing her to feel nauseous. O...strained to hear her lover's moans, caressing him slowly, and with infinite respect, the way she knew pleased him. O felt that her mouth was beautiful since her lover condescended to thrust himself into it, since he deigned publicly to offer caresses to it, since, finally, deigned to discharge in it. She received it as a god is received

I know feeling this way doesn't necessarily make me special. You don't have to be submissive to get so much from pleasing the one you love. Or the one you belong to. I do wonder if it adds a depth to the pleasure, another dimension that others may not feel. 

I'll have to ponder that further in another post. 

One of my all time favorite "Firsts" 

It won't surprise you that I experienced my first blow job with Jack. But I didn't take his cock in my mouth until after I gave him my virginity. Even back then, it seemed like a bigger deal to me. And I had never done it before, I was nervous, I didn't want to do it "wrong." And he had never asked for it. He never wanted to push me in that way. But then one afternoon I got the idea in my head and I couldn't let go of it. I wanted to give Jack a blow job. In the worst way! I couldn't stop thinking about it. Giving my virginity to him had changed me in so many ways. My sexuality bloomed like a time-release video of a hothouse flower. That is to say ... quickly. I felt myself opening up, reaching reaching ... and always in his direction. I wanted to experience everything with him, every sensation, I wanted more. Always more. 

And I wanted to do something for him. I felt he had given me so much. I wanted to turn him on by doing something that was just for him. Those secret submissive feelings were growing like a small seed deep inside me. I wanted to make him happy, give him pleasure, without expecting any pleasure for myself. Because I assumed (based on extensive anecdotal evidence from my girlfriends) that sucking his cock would be an experience that would be arousing for him, but not for me. At least not beyond the emotional pleasure I would feel by making him feel good.

Man, was I ever wrong.

So, that afternoon came when I became obsessed with giving Jack this gift of oral pleasure. He was planning to pick me up after playing basketball with his friends. I don't remember if we had somewhere to go, or  if we just intended to "go for a drive," aka find some place to park and make-out. Or indulge in our budding sexual relationship. We were fast becoming experts at car sex. What we ended up doing was parking in the back of some park's lot, in the middle of a beautiful summer afternoon. Not exactly private. We got in the back seat like we often did, and talked a little. But we could never keep our hands off of each other.  I wish I remembered what led up to the conversation. Did I bring it up? Were we making out, kissing, stroking, fondling and I told him what I wanted to do? Did I whisper it in his ear? Did he ask me? That we talked about it I've no doubt. We talked about everything. What I do remember is being there in the back seat of his car, my arms and legs tangled up with his, and saying to him, " ... but you have to show me how. Tell me what to do." Where did I get the courage to say that? I was usually such a shy person. It was Jack's influence. His presence. He made me brave. 

Jack, true to form, tried to "talk me out of it." 

"I don't know if this is the best time for this." Jack told me. In his calm voice. 

"Why not?" I was probably already panting at this point.

"I've been playing basketball. I'm all sweaty."

Nothing sounded more delicious to me than tasting Jack's sweaty skin.

"I don't care. I really want to do this. Now. Please?" Here I was, begging to suck his cock even before my first blow job. Can you hear the whisper of that little seed of submission growing?

Jack leaned back a little against the back seat and gave me a look, half serious, half smirking. He sat like that, just staring at me, long enough that I started to get that shiver, and not because it was cold. That connection between us, that electrical wire that held us together was starting to heat up, sending trembling pulses all over my skin.

"Ok," Jack said, darkness in his eyes. "Come here." 

He grabbed me by my shoulders and pulled me to him. He kissed me fully, passionately, even roughly, until my lips felt bruised and I was completely on fire. I was melting on the inside, desire pooling in my lower belly. God I loved kissing him! I put my hand on his crotch and started rubbing his cock from the outside, my hand sliding around on his silky basketball shorts. Then I slipped my hand inside his shorts, inside the waist band of his underwear, and wrapped it around his mostly erect cock. I caught my breath. I felt like I had a handful of dangerous desire. I could feel the tickle of his hair against my skin, and the smoothness of him in my palm. And then, I felt something amazing! I felt him get even harder in my hand. Oh! That moment was so exciting my stomach muscles clenched, and the tingling between my legs that had started with the kiss bloomed into full-on aching desire. I might have even gasped a little. I pulled back from kissing him and looked at Jack ... he was smiling at me encouragingly, but there was darkness behind his eyes. I felt so powerful! And at the same time so proud that something I was doing, on my own, was making him feel that good. 

Now, I had read the last few chapters of "Valley of the Horses" (The sequel to "Clan of the Cave Bear". If you'd like a titillating how-to on how to give a blow job that goes on for pages, check it out.) I'd also read at least the first book of Anne Rice's Beauty series. (More on erotica later.) So I felt like I had at least a working knowledge of how to start. But I wanted to do it well. I wanted to make his body feel the way mine did when he touched me. I wanted his heart to race. I wanted to give him that sensation of melting on the inside.  And if I'm being entirely honest, I wanted him to forget any other girl who had ever given him head before me. 

So I screwed up my courage once more and whispered, "I want you to tell me what to do, or ... if you want me to do something differently." I couldn't look at him when I said it. I was starting to feel awkward and self-conscious. 

"Ok." He whispered back. He sounded a little hoarse, perhaps because I still had my hand wrapped around his cock and I was stroking it gently. 

The bright afternoon sun was shining into the car. We were parked right next to a baseball field. Someone could have conceivably walked by. That just made it more exciting for me. I shivered again. I let go of him and pulled his shorts and underwear down and off. He was already barefoot. His cock was erect, stretching out of a patch of coarse black hair. This was the first time I had really looked at it, seen it up close. The first time I had seen ANY cock up close. I did not know what my friends were talking about. I thought it was beautiful. I licked my lips nervously and wrapped my hand around him again, all the way down at the base. I scooted down off the warm car seat and onto the floor. I was kind of uncomfortably straddling the hump, by I didn't really notice. I couldn't take my eyes off of Jack's cock. The shape of the head, the ridge underneath, the veins, even, it was all so ... foreign. I licked my lips again. My mouth was a little dry I was so nervous. 

I took a deep breath and tentatively reached out and experimentally ran my tongue over the smooth pink head. I tasted salty skin and something else I couldn't describe.  My heart was pounding!  I could feel sweat starting to trickle down my lower back. I opened my mouth and took more of him in, and tried to apply a little suction. I slowly bobbed my head up and down, my saliva building as I did so. I could smell his sweaty, musky scent, but he smelled so good to me. 

"The underside is the most sensitive, try pressing your tongue against it." Jack's voice floated above me, soft and serious.

Mmmmm, I could do that. And strangely, just the sound of Jack's voice, telling me what to do for him, excited me even more. I was desperate to please him, so as I bobbed and sucked my way up and down his shaft, I ran my tongue along the underside of his cock. I was rewarded with some heavy breathing from above me. I thought about how good it must have felt to him to fuck me for the first time. How warm and wet and tight my pussy must have felt. I tried to make my mouth feel like that ... every few times I came up his shaft, I would come all the way off, tighten my lips, and press down against the head of his cock before sliding all the way down again, flicking my tongue against him as I did.

"The head is really sensitive, too." Jack whispered, and he lightly put his hand in my hair. The touch of his hand on my head made me quiver with desire. My nipples immediately hardened and the ache in my pussy was almost unbearable. I started running my mouth over him, faster, faster, pressing the tip of my tongue against the underside and intermittently running my tongue around the the smooth head and the ridge that circled around it. I started using my hand, too, but softly. I wasn't sure how delicate these boy parts were.

I don't know how long this lasted. I remember the salty taste of him in my mouth, the feel of his skin in my hand. I remember his pubic hair tickling my wrist. I remember how his shaft became so wet from my saliva, and I used that natural lubricant to slide my mouth more quickly up and down. I remember the feel of the smooth head, and flicking the ridges with the tip of my tongue. I remember the car heating up until we were both sweating. I remember gripping his upper thigh tightly with my other hand. I remember almost moaning with the pleasure of pleasing him. I remember the scratch of the floor carpet against my knees. I remember his voice above me, HIM above me, talking softly to me, encouraging and instructing. I remember him whispering "oh, yeahhh ..."

Jack had said before I had even started, during our conversational foreplay, that it's best to start slowly and then build, adding more pressure and more suction. So that's what I did. I wanted to make him cum. I wanted to hear him moan and grunt and say my name like he did when we had sex. 

Jack spoke to me once more. He said, between quick breaths, that he would tell me when he was going to cum so that I could stop, if I wanted to. I didn't want to stop! I wanted him to cum in my mouth. I was sure of that. Not because I knew at all what that would be like. But because I had suffered through enough teasing interrogations with boys (not on my own but in groups, hanging out in the halls, on loading docks, behind bleachers, boys asking us girls that age old question that we never knew how to answer, boys laughing to see how it embarrassed us,  "Do you spit or swallow?") to know that swallowing was the preferred method. If that's what guys liked, that's what I was going to do for Jack. 

I paused long enough to gasp, "No! I don't want to stop!"

"Are you sure?" Jack breathed back at me. 

I let my continued sucking and licking answer him. I wanted to devour him, I just didn't know how. I sucked at him as hard as I dared and flicked my tongue along the vein that ran under his shaft. I massaged the base of his cock with my hand. I'm sure whatever technique I was managing was getting a little sloppy, but my head was buzzing and my whole body was aching with desire. My pussy was so wet, I could actually feel the dampness of my panties as I crouched there on the floor. Jacks hands suddenly gripped my shoulders and he moaned.

"Shea, I'm going to cum ... I'm ...

He lifted his hips a little bit off the seat and grunted and oh my god I could actually feel his cock throb and pulse in my mouth. I was so turned on I almost couldn't breathe. The buzzing in my head was deafening. I felt a sudden warmth spurt into my mouth and tasted his salty cum on my tongue. I didn't know exactly how to keep it all in my mouth, but I wanted all of it!  A little dribbled out onto my hand so I tightened my mouth around his cock and sucked all of his cum into the back of my throat. I was going on pure instinct now, just doing what felt right. I gave one last suck up the length of him and swallowed everything that was in my mouth, his cum and my saliva all mixed together. I didn't know how to end it, really, so I held my mouth gently around him until his cock stopped twitching. And then I released him and quickly lapped up what had spilled onto the top of my fist.

I didn't move for a minute, I just rested there on the floor of the car, nestled between his legs with his softening cock in my hand. My breath was coming in ragged gasps and I continued to stroke him until he put his hand over mine to stop me. 

"It's a little sensitive ... after ..." Jack whispered to me. 

I finally looked up at him and surreptitiously wiped my hand on my shorts. For just a moment I felt ... I felt my sexuality swirling around me, wrapping me in intense desire. I felt such an amazing sense of power in my female-ness, even though I was on my knees. That seeming contradiction was so alluring to me, I didn't know quite what to make of it. I just knew I wanted more. 

I suddenly realized that Jack was staring at me and shyness struck. I let go of him and crawled back up on the seat and curled up next to him. He wrapped his arms around me and I buried my face in his shoulder. 

"Did you like it?" I murmured. 

"Yes, Shea, I liked it. Couldn't you tell?" He as smiling, I knew that without looking at him.

"I can do better ..." I whispered.

"Don't worry, we have lots of time to practice." 

I lifted my head and looked at him, and some look on my face made him laugh. I laughed, too. 

"Did you like it?" He asked me.

"I did. I liked it a lot."

He tightened his arms around me and we sat there for a minute. I was still worked up in an agony of desire, and I wanted him to fuck me, but I had to go home. And as much as I wanted him, there was something so incredible about the feeling that I had pleased him without expecting anything in return. I loved that feeling. 

And really, was that even true? I realized that giving Jack head was such a complete turn-on, so arousing in it's own right, so much more than I thought it would be. It wasn't just for him, it was for me too. I never thought I could feel so aroused, get so turned on, just by giving him pleasure.

And that was a beautiful, beautiful thing.

I find after writing this, that I have much more to say about oral sex. But I think that will come later in this story. I think I need to get back to biting and other adventures. 

What did happen when I bit Jack?


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