Kneeling before you

When I was 18 years old I had my first talk about blowjobs. Funny thing, back then, we (four girls of the same age) thought that it’d be gross. We thought it was a nasty procedure we’d have to endure in order to please our prospective boyfriends. The thought that a girl might enjoy it made us feel nauseated. I’d probably be laughing now that I recall the scene – but I can’t actually laugh with your cock in my mouth.

And, baby, there are a lot of things I can’t do at this moment; thinking is one of them.

For when I kneel before you, I don’t do it for you. I know it seems that way, that I do it to please you. But you’re a big boy, you should know it by now; there are no selfless good deeds, honey. The truth is I do it for me – and, between us, it’s one of my favorite parts, even though I have a strong gag reflex, which makes it especially difficult for me. But who the fuck cares?

I may choke, I may be at a loss for breath, I may have tears running all over my face. But a single stare at yours (eyes closed, mouth slightly open to let your heavy breathing come out) makes me forget all the rest. That’s what I want. To see you biting your lip, to feel your hand tighten around my hair and to feel your legs shaking. To savor your taste and devour it.

It’s the only moment I see you lose control. You are totally at my mercy. The release you’re so desperately longing for, is only in my hands. Or, to be accurate, on my lips. And baby, believe me, I want it more than you do.

Everything about you coming is my reward; your soft moans, your incontrollable panting, your pressure against my throat.

This is my moment. You are my god and I’m worshipping you in the best way possible. Just like you do when it comes to me.

This is my only way to repay all the time you’ve spent with your head lying between my thighs and used your tongue in such ways I could hardly imagine they existed. For all the times I left my teeth marks on the pillow, trying to hold myself from screaming out your name. For all the times I scratched your back in anger for stopping early just to taunt me. For all the times you made me arch from pleasure, lost in the limbo your offered me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I see it as a transaction; you give so you take. No, darling, I would gladly do this for the rest of my life, even if you didn’t do the same to me. It’s my nature, I’m a submissive bed fellow, I’ve stopped resisting my urge and embraced who I was years ago. No, I’m only saying it’s another reason for me to please you – on top of all the rest.

And this is why I would laugh at my 18-year-old self now. Because back then I couldn’t understand this simple thing; that, when it comes to sex, we tend to think that we’ll get the greatest amount of pleasure when it’s all about the “me” part. I couldn’t be more wrong.

I’m standing up again, watching you trying to come back to your senses. This priceless feeling, this mind and body explosion I offered you, is what a blowjob (or a pussy lick fellas, same thing) is all about. You’ve got the power – who the fuck doesn’t adore that?