I wish there was like, a handbook, for official bedroom etiquette.
How about we establish some rules? Like, “Please be gentle with your finger at first because you may accidentally be fingering my pee hole (this has happened to me on more than one occasion)”? Or “Don’t f*cking touch my assh*le unless I tell you it’s OK”?
But alas, in lieu of stringent, documented guidelines, we’re all forced to just kind of figure it out.
You guys know I’m single AF because I’ve yet to meet the guy who makes my heart sing. I have, however, been fortunate enough to find someone who makes my vagina… swell? I don’t know, does that sound gross?
He’s this insanely hot Irish construction worker with a ton of swagger. Despite his farmboy charm, he just doesn’t do it for me intellectually. The man’s got a brain the size of one singular lentil. I don’t “like-like” him, and there’s no chance in hell I ever will.
But he is good with his hands, and it turns out having that skill certainly comes with perks. He and I have this great, super sweaty, bend-each-other-in-half construction worker-esque sex.
Want to know the best part of it all? He goes down on me, but I don’t go down on him. Never have, never will (have I sparked envy in you yet?). And we’ve kept this thing up (no pun intended) for almost a year now.
I don’t give head to people I don’t like. I just don’t. Whichever way you look at it, going down on someone is kind of an intimate thing to do. You’re just down there, teetering back and forth between licking his junk and looking him in the eye.
The thing is, I don’t want to stare into the soul of some dude I’m not particularly fond of. I want to have rough, crazy, detached sex and then bounce until next time. I want to get in and get out.
Samantha Jones said it best: “Honey, they don’t call it a job for nothin’.” A blowjob is a f*cking job. If you’re a dude and we’re f*cking, but we don’t speak outside of the bedroom, and you’re trying to push my head down to say hello to your dirty dude-parts, you’ve got some balls, man (figuratively speaking).
A lot of girls see blowjobs as a power move. They see them as an opportunity have a man helpless and eating out of the palms of their hands — instead of the other way around, for once.
For me, a blowjob isn’t about having power. It’s more of a selfless act of kindness for someone I care about; someone I’m emotionally invested in. And if you look at it that way, giving head to someone you don’t like isn’t much different from buying a gift for someone you don’t like. I’d never do the latter, so I don’t really see a point in doing the former.
Don’t expect an act of service from my mouth to your penis unless you hold a special place in my heart.
And it’s not that I can’t be physically intimate with someone with whom I’m not emotionally intimate. Casual sex is practically a walk in the park for me. It’s that I feel morally opposed to blowing a stranger. What did you do for me that warrants my mouth on the grossest part of your body?
Am I crazy for not wanting to get a possible STD from blowing someone who doesn’t know how to spell my last name or who has the personality of the laundry tag on the inside of my shoe?
Technically, I could blow a guy who put on a condom first. But most dudes don’t realistically wear condoms for blowjobs (they hardly wear them for sex). I mean, I’m a proponent of safe sex and all, so they should, but to play devil’s advocate here, I totally get why they don’t. Who wants to suck on f*cking rubber or latex? Yeah, I’ll pass on that.
To sum it up: Sorry, construction worker f*ck buddy (and props for sticking it out with me). Sorry, every other guy I’ve ever slept with whom I also happened to hate. And sorry to the guys I will sleep with in the future whom I will someday hate.
Don’t expect yours truly to hand out blowjobs like they’re free candy. You gotta earn that sh*t, because I’m not the kind of girl who spends her night gasping for air on someone who doesn’t leave her breathless.
I Hate Giving Head To People I Don’t Like
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