For those who do not know me, I'm what you might call "sexually active". If you are not a fan of euphemisms, you would probably say I'm "a big slut". Having held playtime with a decent cross-section of the male population, and because it is my nature, I am often prone to theorize about trends and truisms of gender relations. As such, I have formed the following opinion, over several years of sexual activity:
I do believe that guys like:
1. getting women off
2. feeling like sexually proficient men who can get women off
3. the social currency of being sexually proficient men who can get women off
I do not believe that guys like:
1. actually going down on women, in the physical sense
Do not misunderstand me. I get that there are guys who are more than willing to go down there and get to work. In this age of rising awareness about the differing sexual needs and response-times between the genders, I salute men who recognize the importance of sexually satisfying their female partners. As cunnilingus has gained a more high-profile reputation for being the surefire way to get a woman off, it has also gained increasingly heavy rotation among men that are considerate enough to care at all whether the woman is enjoying herself in the casual sex setting. But I find that as giving head seem to crop up earlier and earlier in a sexual relationship, so its effect on me becomes largely moot. Which is a problem, because the three things men do like about it (see above) don't happen in that case.
Before I go any farther, I wish to address the very real possibility that I may be the only one with this problem. Perhaps I am the solitary person in the world whose enjoyment of someone else's mouth on my genitals is diminished by wondering about their motivation for putting it there. TO hear everyone else talk about it, sometimes I certainly feel that way. Under no circumstances should this article be cited to a lady as grounds to not go down on her.
I have always thought that guys, even those who claim to "really like going down on girls" tend to think of it as a means to an end, and not a wholly satisfying and enjoyable activity in and of itself. There is nothing wrong with this – there is plenty a girl who does not enjoy giving head, per se, but will not hesitate to do so when called upon to, say, reward her partner for buying her jewelry. But I think any guy will tell you that he'd rather get head from a woman who truly loves to suck some cock. By that same token, I can't help but feel that the head I receive in casual sex situations is not motivated by a desire to taste my vagina, but rather to make me cum. While this is a noble and positive impulse, the mere suspicion that a guy is doing something strictly to make me cum is a bona fide guarantee that I will not. Rather than being able to relax and enjoy what is going on, I am paralyzed by the pressure to climax, thus allowing my partner to resurface from an activity that is being performed entirely for my benefit.
This has long been a point of great frustration for me, and these days I generally compensate for it by skipping over the oral part of the program in casual sex settings. Recently however, I happened to make the acquaintance of a gentleman who, early-on in pre-casual-sex negotiations (PCSN), mentioned his love of giving head. I noted this with my usual skepticism, since love of giving head is a fairly common claim among crafty and informed guys these days, especially those that are trying to get laid. Any given man I talk to seems to feel that they are the only one making this claim, and expect women to swoon at their feet as a result – as though the idea of a man enjoying giving head was unheard-of. This mentality directly contributes to my conviction that men don't really enjoy it, and by extension, to my general skepticism in the face of such claims.
At any rate, his statement was taken with the usual grain of salt, and a mental note on my part to pay attention to whether or not his actions reflected an honest desire to put his mouth where my money is. As PCSN continued, there was a frequent and explicit return to this topic – so much so, that I began to feel compelled to experimentally retract my casual-sex-ban on oral and let this guy take a shot.
Ultimately the final decision was made over the course of an IM conversation that concluded with a flat-out plea/demand that I come over and "fuck his face" coupled with an insinuation that I was too scared to actually do it. Never having heard it put in quite those terms before, and unquestionably a sucker for proving I am not scared of anything, I acquiesced despite my misgivings.
A short cab ride later, I found myself at Mr. Fuckface's door. He ushered me inside, offered me a drink and the pretense of cartoon-watching, and soon had me sprawled across his couch, semi-unclothed and definitely not watching The Family Guy. His hands were playing Sacajawea, wandering a step ahead of every place his mouth was to explore. It was clear that the expedition was shortly headed South.
"I want you to promise me something," he said, looking up at me intently from nipple-level, "I want you to promise that you will not be shy about rubbing your pussy all over my face."
I've had guys say, "I like giving head!" and sound sincere while doing so. I 've had sex with men who are recommended for their skills and enthusiasm by women whose opinions I trust. I've been assured by my lovers, friends, and gynecologist, that there is no physical property to my specific pussy that is a universal turn-off. Yet I have never met a man who seemed particularly anxious to have it rubbed all over his face.
It is really a great moment, as a girl who thinks she's been around the block a bit, to find a new block entirely. And in this case, it was also vindicating, because it turns out I was right all along. All that doubt I felt in dealing with guys who had falsely claimed to like or even love eating pussy was warranted. Mr. Fuckface was about to make liars of them all. And he was also about to find out that I am not shy about anything.
Right off the bat, it became clear I was in for an unprecedented experience. As Mr. Fuckface arranged me at the edge of the bed and himself on the floor, it seemed that he was anticipating the experience of going down on me with more enthusiasm than I was. As he began to get acquainted with my sublevel, I took him at his word and tried a tentative grind into his face. He absolutely lost his mind.
The noises alone would have been enough to convince me that Mr. Fuckface was not kidding about loving some vagina. With the rare exception, guys tend to be pretty quiet in the sack - you have to put in real effort or a special request to get much more than the occasional grunt or gasp. Which is a big disappointment to me, and on this issue I know for sure I am not alone. When, in response to my test-grind, Mr. Fuckface jerked violently and began moaning, I got full-body goose bumps. As long as his head was below waist-level, he was a porno foley expert, which stood out in sharp contrast to the more typically male stoicism I was used to.
Beyond the noises, his body language was focused and intense. Mr. Fuckface did not hesitate to position me to his liking. Occasionally I caught him watching me trying to uncross my eyes, but more often his eyes were closed, making him appear completely lost in the glory of my vagina. And when I took the initiative to move into him, I could feel the response run through his entire body. He took my hand and put it on the back of his own head, prompting me to push against him harder.
All of these factors combined to completely quell my insecurities about the mutual enjoyment of the experience. This resulted in really feeling at liberty to do (or not) anything I felt like, and not worry about what was to cum of it. Which in turn led to one of the most satisfying orgasms of my life. As I drifted in the post-oral happy zone, Mr. Fuckface came to check on me.
"Ready to do me a favor?"
"I want you to get on top of me and ride my face."
That's the sound of my eyes glazing over. Mr. Fuckface got comfortable on his back, and I tentatively positioned myself above him. And yes, before you ask, he did actually have a moustache. It was not until this moment that I really believed this man had asked me over to literally fuck his face. But once convinced, I am always one to throw myself into a new experience. For the first minute or so, I was worried for his breathing, but pretty shortly I lost all ability to concentrate on anything approaching concern. And from what I could tell, Mr. Fuckface was thrilled to discover he had a Boonville Fair 2001 Mechanical Bullride finalist straddling his face. That's what you might call a perfect match.
Finally I tapped out, begging for mercy after four and a half hours mostly spent with Mr. Fuckface's head between my legs. In the few seconds preceeding my blissful drift into sleep, I mentally congratulated myself on at last finding a guy who really enjoyed oral sex, and knowing what to do with him once I did.
After a few days, I was finally able to analyze the situation beyond getting myself worked up by replaying it in my head, and I got to wondering about what made Mr. Fuckface special. Why did oral sex work with him when it had failed with so many others? What about him had made an act that usually felt preemptively intimate instead feel perfectly, mind-numbingly good? Most importantly, what was he doing later?
Aside from a ridiculous, superhuman capacity to give head, it is his equal measure of enjoyment in doing so, and his enthusiasm in expressing it, that makes Mr. Fuckface special. It was this that convinced skeptical me that his interest in going down was simultaneously pleasurable for both of us, and non-contingent on my orgasm. It was this that allowed me to have one. Several, actually.
There is a lesson to be learned from Mr. Fuckface, and this lesson stands to be learned by all. No one expects you to give four hours of head. Frankly, there's gotta be something a little compulsive about anyone who can do that (not that I'm complaining), and I certainly do not anticipate attempting to do so anytime soon. Similarly, there is no need to let someone freak your face if you are not 100% comfortable with it. However, his noises, body language, and overall attitude towards the experience were what I found to be refreshingly arousing. And those are things I can easily apply when it's time to return the favor. Don't show up and act like you don't want to be there. And fellas, if you really do like to be there, the more you make that clear, the better.
I also think most men could also do with a little perspective on the orgasm issue. Any moderately considerate person wants their partner to have a good time, or so I hope. Let's assume that's par for the course - it is not necessary to drive the point home that you specifically want the woman to cum. The more you put emphasis on the outcome, the more you put pressure on her. This always leads me to feel that I am responsible for not only my orgasm, but my partner's as well, since he is hinging being "allowed" to cum on my confirmation that I have. As if I needed another challange.
This can be reflected in subtle ways. Instead of saying, "I want to make you cum," you can say something like, "I want you to have a good time." I can only speak for myself, but when I've had an orgasm, I will definitely let you know, so questions like, "Did you cum?" or worse, "Did you cum yet?" are not generally useful. The answer to that question does not, in my experience, make anyone feel good. On the other hand, mentioning in brief or in detail things that you are enjoying might be a great idea. Not all girls like talkers, and not all guys like to talk, but at least make some noise. It's hard to assume that someone is having any fun at all when they aren't vocalizing it to a certain degree.
Bottom line: noises, body language, and a general tendency to spaz out should fairly clearly communicate enjoyment of what's happening. Maybe men are unaccustomed to orgasm-free sexual experiences being anything but frustrating but unfortunately it's much more the norm for ladies. If you can feel less pressure to get me off, and just enjoy what's going on, I can do the same. But halfheartedly going down on me because it's polite is just uncomfortable. I absolutely refuse to fake orgasms on principle, but that doesn't mean you can't put on a show for me.
As for me, I've waited a lifetime to be let in on the secret of oral sex. Now that I know, I shall not hesitate to seek out true vagina-fiends, and do whatever I can to get into their good graces. It may just become the principle factor in my dating decisions. After all, it doesn't matter much what a face looks like, when you are riding it like the bitch pony you never got for your 10th birthday. It's what's inside that counts.
To read more stuff by Trixie, head on over to bitchingandmoaning.org.