14 Jul 2017
The Truth about Going Down South
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So...... I am in bed with a good man, whose sheets I would want to get tangled up in for a while; possibly, for a lot longer IF things should happen to work out. It is only our first or fifth date, but I am hoping for a thousand more. We are having the kind of intense and passionate Sex that makes me believe in fucking fairy tales. Ja toe, ek weet - Verliefspyker! I feel so close to him, with our eyes locked and our bodies bendy from red wine. But, suddenly he pulls away and disappears beneath the covers, diving headfirst - between my thighs.
"I could do this forever," he says, his voice muffled by the duvet and extra winter blanket. All I can think is........"Please don't!!!"
Let me be very clear: It is NOT that I do not like or hate oral sex. A man's tongue feels wonderful anywhere it roams and I am not bothered by the fact that our bodies do not exactly taste like strawberries and cream, all the time. But, oral sex - for me - demands total surrender to the moment and being implicitly vulnerable to the man I am with.
Unfortunately, I am often stuck in my own head; instead of being lost in ecstasy, when a man goes down on me, I am worrying about loose or longish hairs, whether or not his jaw is getting exhausted and his tongue tired, and how I look and smell down there.
"Are you sure you're OK down there? Do you need anything to drink? Would you like something (else) to eat?"
Or, my mind wanders to things that have absolutely nothing to do with Sex: I fret that I am behind in my marking or that I left the iron/stove/geyser on at home. I worry that I will never reach orgasm, which usually ensures that I won't, because nothing detracts from erotic abandon like performance anxiety. All too often, receiving oral sex spirits me away from a universe of pleasure and into the troublesome territory of over-achiever and over-thinker and over-everydamfuckingthing.
"Are you sure you're OK down there?"
It is too bad and so sad I feel this way, because most men seem happier than ever to go down south. I figure it is a power thing. Decades of feminism and accessible porn have made women more comfortable with their bodies and more sexually aggressive, while men may find it thrilling to make a woman vulnerably submissive - to have her thighs trembling on either side of their face. It must be a huge rush to transform your partner into a puddle of writhing wetness, which I completely understand, because that is how I feel when I give a man a BJ.
Do NOT get me wrong: Many women adore oral sex and I consider it a sign of sexual progress that a man's oral skills now give him bragging rights. However, I am not the only woman I know, who feels ambivalence towards oral sex. When I have asked female friends for their opinions, many give less than stellar reviews: It takes too long. Some men do not know what they are doing. It requires a shower. One friend was even obsessed with the notion that bits of measly toilet paper could be stuck down there. Another simply said, "No way!"
And, pop culture reflects our ambivalence. When TV shows and books portray a woman receiving oral sex (and, it is a rare occurrence) it is often clumsy and unfulfilled. I can relate to the full-body cringe. Notwithstanding, the heroine in Fifty Shades of Grey is so out of touch with her body that she does not masturbate and the whole book reads like wish fulfillment for women unable to articulate what turns them on. Voila.......a Best Seller!
In the end, the real trick to enjoying any sexual act is to know WHAT we want and HOW to ask for it. So, here is what I need: A darkish room - subtle lighting is extremely forgiving at my age. Occasional giggles. Occasional quiet. A finger or two in the right spot helps. Lots and lots of kissing...... I have found that oral sex is NOT casual for me, which means that - I'm sorry, Big Boy - you can't just show up, jump under the sheets, and expect to blow my mind. What I need and want - more than anything - is someone I trust and am comfortable with (and, preferably head-over-heels in love with.) Maybe that will not happen by the first date nor date number three, four or five (as the best love does cum slowly.)
Till then, I would prefer if my lover kept his head above the covers.