The Blowjob

To a fault, every married man I met wanted a blowjob — maybe even more than they wanted to get laid. They might occasionally have intercourse with their wives, but rarely did they get a blowjob. Most said their wives didn’t like to touch their penis, let alone suck it.

I was like this for a long time too. I hated getting pubic hair stuck in the back of my throat. And it was torture for my husband to jam his cock down my throat when I wasn’t ready. I didn’t know how to relax my mouth, so my teeth often grazed his cock. Fundamentally, I didn’t understand what I gained out of this act.

But then I got my sexual surge. Even before we opened our marriage, I began to appreciate a penis and the art of a blowjob. Though a woman is likely in a submissive position when giving a blowjob, she is truly never in more control of a man than when her lips are around his cock. Pleasure, pain, ecstasy, control… dreams come true… all can happen when lips, and the back of the throat, envelope a cock.

I would often take my index finger and thumb and wrap it around the base of a cock, following my lips as I moved up and down. The men who lost control –even the ‘dominant’ types — were too many to count.

It was no surprise, then, that one married man who I was talking with wanted a blowjob. Minutes into our initial conversation “Could use your mouth now,” he said.

On day two, after learning that he was a doctor, he went straight to the suggestion that I warm up his “instrument” in my mouth. When I shared a couple of photos of me giving my husband a blowjob, he decided that my lips were his favorite feature of mine.

If I had to guess, of the time he spent thinking about me, probably at least 25% was spent thinking about me giving him a blowjob.

“Come blow me now. In the doctors lounge,”

“Come blow me under the table during the meeting.”

“Come blow me in surgery.”

“That’s not sanitary,” I responded. “Have to keep the mask on!”

“Come blow me before bed!”

“And now I want your cock down my throat”

“Wish I could fill your dry mouth”

He wanted me on my knees, smiling up at him while I took his cock in his mouth.

“You’re probably going to come like a minute after I put my mouth on your cock,” I told him. “Probably. More like 18 seconds,” he admitted.

Plenty of time for a second round then, I joked.

The blowjob became a major theme in texting-only relationship. We bet one hour of interrupted oral sex over a football game. “You won’t last the hour,” I told him. “Um. Just because I cum, doesn’t mean I’m finished,” he said.” And I’m going to win.”

The game was going in my team’s favor for a while. I confidently sent him a link to jaw and tongue exercises to get his mouth ready for me.

But then, my team lost.

“Good night. Have dreams of me sucking your cock for an hour.”

“I did,” he replied the next morning. “And slept like a baby.”

I was excited I had lost. I thought it would give him more incentive to make time to see me.

But it had no impact on his endless crappy days. Like meeting, and fucking and kissing, the blowjob was just another part of our collective fantasy.