What A Fixation

So today, Jen over at What The Blog? posted a rather explicit guest blog at The Heir To Blair. Funny how I should come across this now, after a detailed dream or two on the same subject.

So. Blowjobs. Giving head. Call it what you will, it's all the same. Chris Rock once said that there are two types of women; the ones who don't give head, and the ones who "love nothing more than to suck a cock." I'm not so sure this is true, but either way I fall neatly into the latter category...much to the pleasure of my few sexual conquests.

Before you do it, you hear so many things about oral pleasure. That it's awful. It tastes bad. Guys always try to gag you. It hurts your jaw. Those are just a few things I was told (also once had someone pop a ball of playdough in my mouth, then tell me that's what semen tastes like...yum). So when I first decided to try it, I went in expecting to come to the same conclusions. In all honesty, I don't even remember the guy's name for sure now (Adam, maybe?)...I was a young teenager, and wanted to make sure it wasn't someone who A) knew my friends or B) would stick around to want it again (I'm practical that way).

Like those parenthesis, don't I?

So Mr. What's-His-Face had absolutely no idea what my curious and inexperienced teenage mind was up to when he came over to...I don't know. Watch TV? Must have been something like that, because the TV was playing some mindless MTV drama when I quite suddenly decided to get on top of him and unzip his jeans. I can only imagine now what must have been going through his mind. Maybe "holy crap, she's easier than I thought!" or "what the hell is this crazy slut doing?". Or maybe something in between. But suffice it to say, this was not an activity that was discussed prior to execution.

And the execution was...lacking, shall we say? But enticing and enjoyable enough to spark an immediate desire to be good at this. No, not good. GREAT. I wanted to give great blowjobs.

It is not a destination, it is a journey. An on-your-knees, choking, gagging journey that, despite the fact that it may make me rather unusual, is a very consistent and arousing part of my personal fantasies. My dreams create vivid and intensely realistic images and sensations and no, I can't be blamed for this. I can't help that I want to do it.

Shall I regress to teenage years and tell myself that oral sex is not "real" sex? Tempting, but inaccurate. So for now, I fixate in my dreams.
Over. And over. And over....