March 4, 2009

The Day I Was Unable to Do Oral

Or, There Goes My Last Chance at Straightness, Again.

Warning: TMI Alert & Rambling Awareness set for RED. Take the women, hide the children, run in circles, scream if you must.

So, I only bother putting that half-hearted "disclaimer" up just because this might get graphic. Shit, I've talked at length about sex, masturbation, made bestiality jokes about rabbits and cold twitchy noses (yeah try to sleep with that imagery). This might also being extremely hilarious and/or discomforting (read: awkwaaaaard) to folks that know me in real life so I'm giving you a fair chance.

Okay? Everyone gone? Alright let's talk dir-tay.

I do recall talking a bit about my first REAL relationship with a boy. I'm so not looking for those entries because that's not a particularly painful point at my life but I really do have to wonder just what I was doing. He was the first guy to show interest in me that I've ever shown a remote interest back. It's teenage dating y'all. How serious was I? You'll see in a minute.

I knew OF this guy as he'd gone to my middle school and he knew of me. It was the first day of a new school year and for some reason I talked to him in the stairwell. He was funny and found me funny (everyone does). That particular year was grievously stupid for me in terms of school years so it was nice to have someone who made me laugh, to ease the tension of dealing with punk ass teachers, whack ass principles, and jivin' motherfuckin' guidance counselors (who neither guided nor counseled).

So long story short, after a few initial mis-starts we started "dating". I put that in quotes because at a certain stage we were still just hanging out, more or less, now with the added benefit of making out and groping. Until he learned that I actually just lived down the street from him. Ohhh deeeear~

Understand that no matter how comfortable I am right now, I'm probably going to be figuring out where I lie on the sexual identity plane all my life. I can't. I've settled into being bisexual because it at least allows me to admit I like teh wimmens while the general assumption is that I like guys as well. And that's fine with me even if it's not particularly true. I just don't feel like I'm sexually attracted to guys. When I mentioned the fact that I had caught me a mans, my brother remarked that at least it wasn't a girl (and fuck him by the way). I felt, for a rushed few months, that this was a great chance for me to prove to my family that indeed I was not a freak of nature and perfectly capable of being "normal". Which, as it turned out, is WROOOONG.

This particular guy was a great ego boost since he made me feel wanted even if I felt dubious about his intentions the whole time, and turns out I was right anyway--that's actually a story for another day, and you will laugh hard at it. But the fact is, sure he just wanted to zoom zoom in the whatever--sex. It was a little unnerving but I have to admit I was kind of okay with it. Until I was expected to...


It came up that maybe we should do this sex thing. No real pressure, I knew how to resist him and put him the fuck out of my house if need be. I'd like to consider myself well informed enough with sex, and at least he had the decency to have a condom on hand. And sure I was curious. But not on the first date homeboy.

So the first date went by and he had to evacuate my premises before I laid hurting on his ass. Second one too. About our 2.5 date (yes it was a half) the issue came up again and I near successfully pulled off a hand job. I felt great. I'd gotten a guy hard and almost made him orgasm! And penes (yeah I know the plural for penis, I'm a geek) feel funny! I say near successful because, no joke, my arm was hurting too much to fully bring him off. I still felt great though staring at his near-orgasm face. I rocked for about 5 minutes.

Later on in the course of our semi-date, I finally decided that maybe I wasn't quite ready for vaginal penetration. He was disappointed sure but naturally there are other ways to get off--like a boob job. Sadly, I have itty B-cups and I'm short so that didn't work out so well. Finally oral came up.

Now...get this. I can receive oral all day long and had nooo problem with that and I don't think I ever will. But me being expected to PERFORM made me realize that in order to make this equal--and I'm all for equality--I'd have to put a penis in my mouth.

Needless to say I was a bit...daunted. Uh, he was pretty large (thus my hand hurting). But after some debate I thought I'd give it the college try anyway and put my lips on it and...

...promptly gagged. What the fuck was that horrible salty taste?! AUUUGH!

I looked and realized my tongue had landed right on the so-called pre-cum aka Cowper's fluid aka God's Way of Telling Me To Repent. I wasn't expecting it to taste like 3 years of salt off someone's brow though. Ugh ugh ugh! I thought if I held my breath for a moment it'd take away the taste but auuuugh it didn't work. I didn't mind the taste of flesh so much as I did THAT. Auuugh! How do other girls (you know, THOSE girls I guess) and gay guys do it, I wondered in awe!

Apparently I did semi-good and much like the hand job couldn't quite bring him off (did I mention my mouth hurt?). He didn't much seem to mind providing oral for me though so it was all good. At least I tried!

It wasn't just the horrible "pearly fluids" that I hated though. It was...everything. The weight, the texture...the feeling of it sliding in and out and feeling like, of all things, a failure despite his insistence that I wasn't. We tried it a bunch of different ways--lying down, standing up, in the shower (hoping the water would take away that aauuuugh taste) and nothing seemed to work. It felt like my Baptist training was coming back and I was having a biblical freak out, even though I didn't mind his penis everywhere ELSE on me that much. I probably wouldn't have even minded it directly in my eye compared to sucking on it.

I was still disturbed, a little. A lot of times if I can envision myself doing something, I can do it fine--this works a lot with drawing and essay writing especially, but, a penis is neither a micron pen nor a pencil so no matter how much I saw myself enjoying giving him a blow job, in reality I just could not. I felt guilty! He could pleasure me just fine but I couldn't seem to return it and that was selfish of me wasn't it? What on earth was wrong with me?

So as it turns out, of course I'm not the only woman with this issue or even the only person. Some of us just can't tongue-lash our lovers like that. It might have even just been that particular penis, but in the end it came about that I just don't like to give oral. That relationship disintegrated anyway so maybe it's for the best that I couldn't so readily hand myself over to him completely. Perhaps one day I'll find that super special penis or even that awesome fountain of youth vagina, but for now it just makes a funny story.

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