Going Down

Cast Painting 1 - Lips by Julie Beck.

Cast Painting 1 – Lips by Julie Beck.

I had an interesting conversation awhile ago. The person I was talking to mentioned that if there were such a thing as a blow job spectrum, he’d have data points all over it, because while he enjoys blow jobs with some partners, with others it’s just not something he actively craves.

I liked the idea of a spectrum because, if popular opinion were to be believed, every man everywhere wants blow jobs from everyone all the time, which is a bit like saying that every woman on the planet wants chocolate every minute of every day, regardless of what it’s in. (Personally, I’ll take custard over chocolate any day, but that’s a different issue).

The conversation also made me realize that I cover a similar sort of spectrum as the giver, rather than receiver, of blowjobs (though I should say that, as a bi lady, I have a totally different spectrum for going down on women, a subject I’m sure I’ll come back to at some point).

For the most part, I’m happy to go down on a guy but, generally speaking, it isn’t one of the primary things I fantasize about. There are, however, notable outliers. I have had partners whom I have actively preferred not to go down on and, way over on the other side of the spectrum, there is a very small handful of men that I absolutely LOVE(D) to suck off. I suspect the variety in my data points has quite a lot to do with my first experience.

I gave my first blow job just a few weeks before I had sex for the first time. I was, for all intents a purposes, a virgin at 19 and grimly determined to rid myself of the label. I didn’t feel like a virgin. I felt hypersexual, and yet there I was, 19 years old with many, many trips to third base under my belt, but no partnered orgasms, no blow jobs and no penetrative sex….

I decided to rid myself of the innocence I didn’t want, so I hooked up with the guy who would pop my cherry a few weeks later. We went dancing and had a genuinely good time. Later that night, we started making out in his car and he asked me to suck his cock. And why wouldn’t he? We were going at it hot and heavy after a pretty successful date. There was no way he could have known that I’d never done it before, because I’d very purposely avoided discussing myself. I wanted so desperately to have already had that experience that I let him assume that I had.

So, I sucked his cock. After years of curiosity and waiting, I was prepared to love it. But I didn’t. I hated it. Once my mouth was on him, he held my head and fucked my face. Now, before alarm bells go off, I will tell you that he would have stopped if I’d told him to. I could have jerked my head back at any time, but I held myself there far more firmly than he did. I didn’t know that a face fucking wasn’t the ideal way for me to experience giving head for the first time. Even if I had, I wouldn’t have cared. I wanted to check that box, so I did, knowing the entire time that I was shortchanging myself, and defiantly not caring.

It wasn’t long before I found other partners, but it took me awhile to learn to like sucking cock, and even then it was a sort of skill-based enjoyment, rather than a primal one. I liked experimenting. What would happen if I focused on his head? If I fondled his balls? If I did this or that with my throat? It was all very academic in a way. It wasn’t until I was in my mid-twenties that I experienced what I will call The Joy of Sucking Cock.

The first time I lost myself in giving a blowjob, it was completely unexpected. I’d been dating A for close to six months and I’d already gone down on him more times than I could count. I’m still not sure why it was different that day, but it was. Maybe it was just that we had the luxury of time, but I sucked his cock without thinking about it. For once, I was totally unmotivated by getting him off and for the first time what I was doing turned me on. I enjoyed myself in a way not unlike this, and while I did, that hard edged, dangerous, son-of-a-bitch of a man bucked and begged to come. Finally, he dragged me onto his lap and fucked me harder than he ever had, and with far less finesse, because I’d worn down his control. That’s when I realized that I actually loved sucking cock – it just had to be attached to the right man.

Even now, while I generally enjoy going down on a partner, I’ve only experienced The Joy of Sucking Cock with a handful of men. Physically they’ve all been different – cut, uncut, longer, shorter, curved, classically proportioned and not quite as much so…. There are two things these men have in common, however. This first is that they all felt right in my mouth – a sort cock sucking version of fit vs. fill. The second is they’ve all had an incredible energy both in and out of bed. Like many people, I feed off my partner’s enjoyment, and the men whom I’ve loved sucking off have all had voracious sexualities that synced up naturally with my own. More than anything, it’s that syncing up that makes the difference for me. It’s what transforms the blow job into a feedback loop, with one giving and the other receiving, and both of us spiraling out of conscious control.

There’s another component, as well, one that goes back to my first experience in that car. It also (unsurprisingly) links to control. That night, I was not in control. I rendered myself an object and I hated it. To compensate, I spent many years treating blow jobs as a way to exercise power over my partner – my way of owning a sexual act that I’d first experienced in a very passive and, as a result, negative way. (Even now, I can’t stand having my head maneuvered and I hate having my face fucked). The small handful of partners that I described above have all been men who a. instinctively knew not to test my boundaries in this regard b. were men I could honestly talk to and c. were partners whom I trusted, implicitly.

The joy I described feeling with them – that syncing up – is the direct result of my letting go of control and relaxing enough to simply enjoy having his cock in my mouth. It’s the result of knowing that when his knees buckle or his hips buck, he’s sharing his pleasure with me. There’s a ton of power in that feedback loop and power is fucking hot – all the more so when you’re enjoying it together.

This is my contribution to The Fellatio Project, hosted by Marie Rebelle. To read other entries, click the pretty picture below.

The Fellatio Project

8 comments

  1. As with most things, they fall on at least a spectrum, if not a matrix (or even a higher dimension form of measure/plotting).

    That said, you toss out the custard vs/over chocolate bit? Why pick one when you can always have both? 🙂

    1. Thank you, Velvet. You hear so much about women who just love sucking cock, all cock. Or, conversely, women who hate it. I’m happy the need for connection and trust resonated. x

  2. Like you, Malin, I’ve had an interesting cock-sucking trajectory, with many of my initial attempts being influenced by what I thought I should be doing technique-wise (read: getting the entire penis in my mouth) versus what I actually found I enjoyed/was anatomically capable of. It’s unsurprising, then, that I didn’t really enjoy giving head all that much when I was younger, even though I found the concept and idea of it appealing. It wasn’t until I started researching a bit more (What can I say? I’m a total geek) and actively looking a different ways to give blow jobs that I really, really started to enjoy giving them but also when they became tied more strongly to power-exchange. (I’m not sure if it’s still in print but Alice Metcalfe’s Masterclass: Blow-Jobs was a brilliant little find and quite a stepping stone on my fellatio journey.) Jane xxx

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