Today, while I should have been putting the finishing touches on a PowerPoint presentation, I was catching up on my erotic blog reading instead (because PowerPoint will *always* lose that battle). I came across the excellent Go fuck myself? Yes please from Exhibit A. (Which was inspired by a tweet from the delicious Abbi Cranky).
There was a line that immediately made me wonder if I could accurately describe to someone how it feels to give a blow job. Not just to give a blow job, but to give one to a clone of yourself.
“…the first thing I’d want to do with an identical copy of myself would be to get down on my knees and find out what it’s like to experience a blow job…”
– Exhibit A, Go fuck myself? Yes please.
First, a taste. A bit salty, a little like the ocean, in a way. Earthy and saline and good. Like when it’s in your mouth, you’re part of something bigger. Then a lick, from the base to the tip, and a look up into your own eyes, and maybe a little smile, maybe a question there, a reassurance from above.
A bit more tasting, drawing it out. Then slipping it in your mouth, the head first, big and hard, parting your sensitive lips. Sliding them over the head, until your lips slip down over the ridge. Fitting. Your tongue exploring the slit, swirling around and over it. You might decide to stay there for a second. Or maybe you decide to pull back and slide your lips down the side of the shaft to your balls.
Taking first one, then the other, into your mouth. You can feel them get heavier as you swirl your tongue around them, as you suck one in like a plum. As you run your tongue around each ball, you can feel the layer of skin that slides freely over the ever-hardening interior. You smile to yourself, because you are making that happen. You are directing the flow. You are.
While your mouth is so pleasantly engaged, you feel your smooth, warm, hard cock tapping your cheek, maybe a slap, if you’re in the mood. It’s a hot, heavy promise. You’re tired of toying. You want your throat to be filled. You *need* to choke on that cock. You need it to control your airway, to own you for this moment.
You drag your tongue back from your balls to your shaft and slowly up to your head. You grab it between your lips, no hands yet. You lick your lips around it, making sure they’re wet and smooth, maybe another glance into your eyes before you slowly move your lips down over the head, until they slip over the edge and feel like they’re home.
You rest your lips there a minute, comfortable, ready. You feel a hand on the top of your head. Your hand. Encouraging, not pushing, but present. Participating. Then you slowly, slowly inch your lips further down.
You’re starting to struggle a bit, as you take more in, it’s hard not to choke. You have to breathe through your nose, or open your mouth a little and breathe around it. Then you take a deep breath and slide it all the way back until when you swallow (which you will) you’re swallowing that fat, hard head. As you do, as your throat constricts around the delicious obstruction, you can feel it growing, getting harder, bigger, wider, longer. Probably millimeters, but it feels like inches. Careful now, you’re choking, but you force yourself to linger as long as you can. Finally, you pull back, gasp, smile. There is spit on your chin, your eyes are watering. You love it.
You slide down again, faster this time, swallowing in a rhythm, the hand on the back of your head encouraging you to the right pace. Your hands are wrapped around, gripping your ass or the back of your thighs, anything for purchase. You’re out of breath, you pull back, breathe. Wrap your fist around the shaft, tightly, and continue with the rhythm, faster now, your tongue swirling in time with your pumping , twisting fist. Your lips tight to the ring of your finger and thumb, creating an enclosed environment.
Then, there it is, the first drop of pre-cum. Salty and hot and you feel like a champion. You are making that happen. You are tasting the ocean in your mouth. You’re tasting the leak in the dike.
Maybe you keep this up, maybe you change the rhythm. Slowing down and sucking on the balls again. Maybe you’re roughly pulled up by a fist in your hair for a kiss. But ultimately, you are back on your knees, a deep breath, your fingers gripping soft skin and straining muscle, and the hard, so very hard, cock back down your throat. The hand at the back of your head is a little more insistent on the rhythm. You have no time to breathe, you want it so bad, you are focused, swallowing in time to your head rocking back and forth. Gripping the ridge of your head with your throat each time it slides down, harder than ever.
From above, you hear a groan and echo it with your own, vibrating around the hard cock. Faster and faster you go until, at last, with a ripped-out shout, the once-casual hand is now pressing your head tight to your pelvis, you feel the cum shooting down the back of your throat, pumping in rhythm with your swallowing. You’re sweating and there are tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes and after the explosion and the swallowing you can breathe again and you rest your forehead against a warm belly, the hard cock softening in your mouth. One last swirl of your tongue and you look up for eye contact. Smile. Breathe. Bask.