Some women would be thrilled to have a guy who didn’t want head, ever, but not me. I knew one guy was not going to be a match when he gently pushed my mouth away when I moved to go down on him, saying, “That’s okay; I don’t usually come that way anyway.” To me, that was all the more reason to try! But he wasn’t offering up the statement as the start of a conversation; that was it. I didn’t bother expressing my disappointment, just vowed not to go home with him again. When I’m with a guy, no other sexual act is as powerful as a blow job. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy or get off from sex — of course I do — but without it being paired with going down, it’s no fun at all. Sex and blow jobs go together like chocolate and peanut butter. Blow jobs can act as foreplay or an entire sex act in and of themselves, one where both of us get off. I don’t know why, but for whatever reason, taking a lover’s cock between my lips turns me on. I get wet, excited, enthused, both about bringing him pleasure and the sensations that beam through my body. I touch myself while it’s happening, and sometimes have to pause because I’m so aroused—or I have my lover stroke me while I’m giving head.
It’s a process that doesn’t just involve my mouth, but my hands, my breathing, my everything. I just edited a whole book all about them called “Tasting Him” (okay, and another one about cunnilingus), and I was thrilled to see that I’m not the only one who feels this way, because the way some women talk and write about BJs, like they are this interminable chore, or something to be wielded as a prize for good male behavior, freaks me out.
It’s also the best way I know to give someone pure sexual pleasure. To me, there’s something even more intimate about going down, on a man or woman, than there is about intercourse. It’s how I can gauge whether I’m doing a good job, whether I’m showing him that I truly want to be there. Conversely, on the rare occasions I’m in bed with someone I’m not that into, or who I’m sure I won’t see again (not an ideal circumstance, but it happens), I won’t make the offer.
When he refused, without even letting me try, it was a blow (ha!) to my ego. It made me feel useless, worthless, like everything else between us would just be a letdown, like he was already predicting my inability to give him pleasure. When I give someone a blow job, I put every bit of effort into the task, and when I’m done, it brings me not just arousal but a special kind of pride. Without that, I have no way of knowing how I’m doing during sex, and I like to know how I’m doing. Because my own orgasms can sometimes take a loooong time, if they happen at all, I’d infinitely rather give a successful blow job and then have time to get to my own pleasure.
I like that I have to work during a blow job, that there’s no way to give in and “just lie there.” I like that I’ve figured out which positions and movements work best for me, which turn me on the most. I gave my boyfriend a blow job the other night, after we hadn’t seen each other for two months (it’s a long distance relationship), and that, more than anything, made me feel close to him again, like the distance and time had been dissipated by this one action.
Having my oral offer rebuffed was, to me, the equivalent of outright sexual rejection. Why was I even there? That’s not to say I think every guy must be into getting head; that’s its own stereotype too. But I wouldn’t feel comfortable being with someone who never desired oral, for whom that simply wasn’t on the menu.
Original by Rachel Kramer Bussel
