Blow Me

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Just a discussion on blowjobs!

Submitted: May 06, 2017

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Submitted: May 06, 2017



Blow Me


As a female writer, I try to avoid explicit depictions of sex because I have been socialized to believe that as a woman, talking about sex is vulgar and “unladylike.” The problem is, I’m a woman who really likes talking about sex and I’m a woman who really likes having sex. I am not ashamed of my sexuality; therefore, I am no longer ashamed to write about my sexuality. That is why I think it’s important to discuss one of my favorite sexual acts: the blowjob.

First, a little history on the act of fellatio. Oral sex is said to have been a favorite pastime of ancient Egyptians, the citizens of Pompeii, and the Moche people, who lived on the northern coast of Peru around 560 AD. The infamous Kamasutra, created in second century India, included some of the first depictions of fellatio and the different positions one could put themselves in to give head. Unfortunately for those living in medieval times, the blowjob fell out of popularity due to ultra-religious and conservative rules about sexuality that plagued the era. The turn of the 20th century was really the blowjob’s time to shine. Fun nicknames for fellatio, such as “dickylicker,” “deep sea diving,” “sneezing in the cabbage,” and even the term “blowjob” itself, all came from this time period. People rediscovered how great getting head was and by the end of the century, oral sex was no longer a taboo. 

 I first heard the term, “blowjob,” when I was about 10 years old. I was on the playground and I heard a male classmate bragging about the fact that he had watched a movie where a guy in the film received a blowjob from a “super-hot chick.” I was curious, having no idea what this word meant. I innocently approached my classmate, inquiring about what a “blowjob” was. I’ll never forget his words, “Duh it’s when a guy puts his dick in a girl’s mouth.” I walked away disgusted, vowing to never engage in that kind of behavior. Well, I have definitely broken that elementary school vow.

I’ll never forget my first blowjob because it occurred right before I lost my virginity. I was 18 and it was the second week of my freshman year of college. The guy in question was a thirty-something-year-old paramedic who I had met on the metro when I first moved to DC. We went on a few Starbucks dates, making awkward small talk over iced coffees. One day he asked if I could give him a tour of my dorm room and I eagerly obliged. He met me on campus and I guided him towards my room, anxious about what was going to happen when I closed the door behind us. We started making out on my bed and before I knew it, he had taken off his pants. As we kissed, he started subtly pushing my head towards his crotch. This was the moment. I was nervous, but confident. I tried to remember the blowjob tips my best friend had given me as I pulled down his boxer briefs.  

The first thing I thought was, “How am I supposed to fit that in my mouth?” He was a big guy and I was slightly intimidated. I closed my eyes and placed his cock in my mouth. It felt weird, but eventually I got into a rhythm. I slid my mouth slowly up and down his shaft, pausing every few minutes to stroke him. I assumed I was doing a terrible job until I heard him start moaning. He then pulled me towards him, kissing my neck as he put on a condom.

The sex was… meh. It hurt more than anything and I did not have the mind-blowing orgasm I had seen in so many movies, HBO series, and clips on PornHub. There was blood all over my bedspread and I felt slightly disappointed with the whole experience. I didn’t regret having sex with him, but I had romanticized the idea of losing my virginity so much, that the actual event was underwhelming. The only part I really enjoyed was the blowjob. I relished the feeling of control I had and even felt somewhat empowered. Also, nothing is more of a turn-on than hearing the individual you are blowing moan your name.

I went out with the gentleman for a few more months, but he ended up being a loser with a penchant for sending me unsolicited dick pics. By the end of our relationship, I was so sick of seeing his penis, both in my messaging app and in person. He wasn’t the love of my life, but it was fun while it lasted. Also, as someone who rejects the cultural notion that a girl’s virginity equates to her self-worth and is an atheist with no religious objections to premarital sex, it has never bothered me that my first time wasn’t with my husband or someone I loved. It happened, I enjoyed it, and I wouldn’t change the experience if I could.

After breaking up with the man who took my virginity, I spent a few wild months dating a bunch of terrible men. I mean really awful, garbage people. I had some of the best and worst experiences during this time. It was my first semester in college, I was stressed out about classes and a lack of friends, and I was intensely homesick. Going out with these men became my outlet, more effective than any anti-depressant I could have been prescribed. As a feminist, I was ashamed by how much I clung to these men. I was ashamed by how available I made myself to them and how submissive I was becoming. Yet I kept going out, admittedly refining my fellatio skills along the way.

To stay within the theme of the essay, I will now share with you a few of my most unique blowjob experiences. The good, the bad, and the ugly of oral sex.

Getting High and Giving Head

Before coming to college here in DC, a city with legalized recreational marijuana, I really didn’t smoke weed that often. After living here for about a year, I have become the stereotypical stoner college kid. Interestingly enough, the first time I smoked weed in the District of Columbia was also the first time I had sex while I was high.

I think it’s crucial to emphasize that if someone is drunk or high, they cannot consent to sex. However, I don’t think there is anything wrong with getting a little stoned before getting fucked. Personally, I think that weed enhances every feeling during sex and makes orgasms even more intense.

I had just dumped the guy who took my virginity and I was eager to find a real relationship with more chemistry. This time I decided to utilize the greatest invention of our generation: the tinder dating app. The guy, who we’ll call “Georgetown,” was a nice 26-year-old Jewish boy who looked like Seth Rogan and went to Georgetown Law School. We chatted for a few hours one night and he asked me on a date at the National Portrait Gallery in downtown DC. I was apprehensive, but figured that even if it was awful, I would at least be getting to see some amazing artwork.

It was a Wednesday night and I didn’t plan on staying out too late because I had an 8 am world politics class the next morning. I met him on the steps of the gallery and noticed that he was cuter in person than he was on his tinder profile. We toured the museum, talking about our shared love for Democratic politics, historical fiction, and weed. I told him I hadn’t smoked in a few weeks and wanted to do so again soon. He suggested that after our date, we could smoke a bowl together at his place. I excitedly agreed as we walked through the wing of the museum that housed the official presidential portraits.

Upon leaving the museum, we walked down 7th street and settled at this charcuterie restaurant near the Archives metro stop.  As a broke college kid from a small town in Florida, I was fascinated by the overpriced and overcomplicated menu. I asked him to order for me and I literally hated everything on the plate. I smiled and choked down pieces of cured meats, trying to prove that I was a fancy adult who could appreciate the culinary art of charcuterie. We played footsie under the table as we discussed our parents’ divorces and a mutual admiration for Wu-Tang Clan. He paid the bill, a whopping 86 dollars for what I thought was pretty shitty food.

We took an Uber to his place, a beautiful apartment building off of North Capitol street.

I will now admit I was more attracted to this guy’s apartment than I was to him. It was immaculate and so grown up. There was a spectacular view of the Capitol building from his balcony and he owned adult things like pots and pans and expensive bottles of whiskey. I was impressed to say the least. He pulled out his stash of weed and a blue-hued glass bong. He warned me that his weed was especially potent because it was grown in California. I was used to smoking the high-priced ditch weed commonly sold in my hometown. I took two deep hits and was immediately fucked up, for lack of a better term. I kept staring at my hands, giggling and remarking on how weird I thought they looked. Georgetown laughed at the giddy nonsensical statements I was making and then began to kiss my neck. When he touched me, I melted, the weed heightening all of my senses. The high also gave me this sudden rush of confidence. I became more aggressive and took control. I grabbed him and started kissing him as my hand reached below to unzip his pants. If I was sober, I wouldn’t have done this. I could feel his hard on pressing into me, but I stopped kissing him. I lowered to the floor and got on my knees in front of him.

Blowing Georgetown was a great experience for me. He wasn’t too big like the other guy and it was easier for me to deep throat him, which he obviously enjoyed. He wasn’t too pushy and didn’t try to purposely make me gag, which I obviously enjoyed. Doing this while I was high added an extra degree of pleasure to the whole thing. I felt super self-confident while doing it and got very turned on as well. After he came, Georgetown complimented me on my blowjob prowess. My good feminist side was offended by his compliment. My bad feminist side felt extremely proud of herself. I really loved that I had the ability to make myself and someone else feel so good.

Things with Georgetown ended up being much more complicated than I ever imagined, but I won’t get into all that. I will say that my first time mixing weed and sex was a fun one. Nowadays, I try to get stoned every time I give head because it’s really that fucking great.


The Never-ending Blowjob

One of my oral sex pet peeves is when a guy wants you to blow them for an eternity and then won’t even reciprocate afterwards. Oral sex is so much better when it’s mutually beneficial. Also, I love giving head, but 45 minutes to an hour of blowing is too much work. It becomes excessive and the opposite of pleasurable. I believe that the proper blowjob etiquette involves being thoughtful about time and reciprocating if given the opportunity. 

I went out with one fellow who frequently violated blowjob protocol and expected me to give him head for an hour every time we hooked up. This guy, who we’ll call “Papi,” was one of the worst human beings I’ve ever come in contact with. I met Papi on Tinder after I came back from Thanksgiving break in the fall. He was Columbian, devastatingly handsome, and an MMA fighter. He was the bad boy I needed to help relieve the stress of the fast approaching finals week.

The first night we went out, he took me to a bar in Dupont Circle. He told me he knew the bartender so I wouldn’t have to worry about getting carded. I sat with Papi at the bar and ordered a vodka cranberry, enjoying the novelty of being underage and ordering an alcoholic beverage. At one point, we stepped outside for a cigarette and I knew I was very drunk because I was laughing at everything he said and I couldn’t walk without stumbling. I decided I wanted a fourth cocktail, so Papi helped guide me back inside. However, instead of taking me to sit at the bar, he sat me at a table in the corner of room and went retrieve our drinks. I was about to ask him why we were sitting in such a dark corner of the bar when he pulled out what was quite obviously an eight ball of cocaine from his shirt pocket. I watched, speechless, as he stuck the edge of his house key in the white powder and casually took a bump of coke in the middle of a crowded bar. He wiped his nose and gestured the key towards me, offering me a bump. Giggling in drunken amusement I declined his offer, quickly realizing the type of guy Papi was. He put the baggie of coke back in his shirt pocket and asked if I wanted to come to his place to hang out. I was drunk, horny, and somewhat attracted to his recklessness, so I said yes.

When the Uber pulled up to his apartment building near Meridian Hill Park, Papi had to actually help me out of the car because I was so drunk. As we entered the hallway to his apartment, he warned me that I needed to be extremely quiet so I wouldn’t wake up his mother. I found it hilarious that Papi, who had presented himself as such a cool, partying, tough guy, still lived with his mother. He was also clearly quite afraid of her because even before we walked in, he asked me to take off my heels so she wouldn’t hear me. He opened the door to a pitch-black apartment and led me to a small room towards the back.

His bedroom was tiny, the only wall décor being a poster from the gym he worked at. He opened his MacBook and put on a revolting playlist of EDM music that he evidently felt would set the mood for sex. He pulled up my dress and grabbed my ass, whispering how much he loved my “cheeks.” I liked how aggressive and rough he was. It was exactly what I needed. I did a coquettish half giggle, half moan, but Papi immediately made a shushing gesture towards me. I was irritated. Here I was, tipsy and looking to just get fucked hard, but apparently, I would have to act like I was in a library all night.

I assumed we would engage in more foreplay, but Papi wanted to get right down to business. Actually, it was more like he wanted me to go right down on his business. He pulled off his jeans and knock-off designer underwear and forced my head towards his dick. I glared up at him, trying to let him know in a not-so-subtle way that I didn’t appreciate how forceful he just was. I began my usual blowjob routine, slowly sliding his cock in and out of my mouth. Papi moaned quietly, whispering “Yes, girl, just like that.” He would do this thing where he would repeat “I love it,” over and over again in hushed tones. I didn’t mind giving him head for the first twenty minutes, but as the never-ending fellatio show continued, I was becoming weary. I had been blowing the guy for over an hour when he finally came. I asked him not to come in my mouth, but did he listen? Nope.

My jaw was sore, my mouth was painfully dry, and my wrist was cramping. They don’t call it a “job” for nothing. The only consolation I could think of was the well-deserved oral sex I was sure to receive from Papi in return. As well-deserved as it might have been, the favor was never reciprocated. I tried to nudge him down there, but my request was denied. I was heartily offended by the breach of oral sex etiquette.

We had sex, which ended in a marvelous orgasm, and I went back to campus, my mouth still tender from the excessive blowing. The one thing I learned from Papi and his selfish sexual behavior is to always say exactly what you want during sex. Reflecting on my encounters with him, I now know I should have been more vocal about my discomfort and annoyance with the hour-long blowjobs. Honesty is always the best policy, especially when it comes to giving head.


Best Blowjob Ever

My favorite oral sex experience happened not that long ago. The person in question was my good friend, who we’ll call “The Philosopher,” as he works part time as a philosophy professor when he isn’t bartending. We had met on tinder, but quickly became best buddies. I would spend countless hours at his apartment in Columbia Heights, chain smoking Marlboros and listening to his extensive collection of jazz records. After hanging out one night, The Philosopher made his move and we ended up having sex. It was the best I have ever had, but I didn’t get the chance to show him my impressive blowjob talents.

The next time we hung out, I made it my mission to go down on him at some point that night. We smoked a few bowls of weed and listened to Thelonious Monk on the record player. I was sitting on his couch, stoned out of my mind, my short black dress riding up so that my underwear was visible. The Philosopher came out from the bathroom and walked straight towards me. He began kissing my thighs and then spread my legs open. I pulled off my underwear and laid back with my eyes closed as he ate me out. His mouth felt so soft and his tongue made these delicate little circles that drove me wild. I moaned loudly and ran my fingers through his hair. I came twice and laid on his couch in a cloud of euphoria.

Regaining my composure, I got up from the couch and led the Philosopher to his bed. As we laid there kissing and giggling in our marijuana-induced stupor, I began to slide his boxers off. I stroked his dick for a few minutes before placing it in my mouth. I got into a rhythm and could hear the Philosopher moaning my name. I loved it because he never once tried to push my head down or make me gag. I could tell he was making a conscious effort to be respectful. He came within a few minutes and we proceeded to have a night of truly immaculate sex.


Now, not all blowjobs are created equal. Giving head can either be the sexiest or the most disgusting you do. I would now like to end this filthy piece of writing with a few oral sex tips of my own.

My first tip is to ensure that you always feel comfortable with what you’re doing. If it seems like it’s going on too long or he is being too rough with you, remember that you have the right to stop at any time. If you think he’s going to be mad at you for expressing how you feel, then he’s probably not a good person for you to be with anyway.

The next is that enthusiasm is key. If you’re not into the blowjob, your guy will be able to tell. You should never feel obligated to provide your significant other with oral sex, but if you agree to go downtown, try to put as much passion into it as you can. Exaggerated moaning, getting a little sloppy, and making eye contact with your guy are all ways you can show your fervor during fellatio.

Finally, if you are willing to go down on him, he should be willing to go down on you too. Never settle for non-reciprocal oral sex! If you want it as bad as he does, make sure he knows that you expect some head in return.

I am a huge proponent of oral sex. As I have emphasized in this essay, I have given a lot of head and I am pretty damn good at it. Not every man I’ve been with deserved to be with me, but I have learned quite a bit from my college sexcapades. Maybe I’m a whore or a trollop, but that doesn’t concern me. As long as I am content with my actions, that is all that matters.

I’ll part with this quote from David Sedaris:

“It’s just a penis, right? Probably no worse for you than smoking.” 

© Copyright 2020 Sofia Elizabeth . All rights reserved.

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