Phallic thoughts and memories, in a possibly incoherent order.

Yesterday's orgasm count: two, self-inflicted.

Which I suppose explains why I am so damn fixated today. I think I have been thinking of penises pretty much all day, starting off with humorous contexts, and eventually leading to me imagining a nice hard cock in my hands. My favourite thing about penises has to be how they respond to my touch.

While it is relatively rare for me to give handjobs and seeing them through to completion, I love the way a cock feels in my hand moments before orgasm, when I can feel it ready to pump out the cum, the way the it flexes and pulses in my hand. I suppose in a way, it explains why Paul recently told me I was great with my hands: I do actually love touching a cock, and enthusiasm goes a long way, especially for girls. And when it comes to feeling exactly what stage a cock is at, what it's up to, hands definitely win, er, hands down.

That being said though, you can feel the same thing whilst giving head.

I'll admit it: like probably the vast majority of women, I started out not that keen on it. The first cock I ever sucked was a rather large one, which probably wasn't the best thing for an entry-level student, so to speak. I knelt there with this big cock in my mouth, wondering how the hell it was physically possible to suck on something that big, when you didn't have the room to spare in your mouth (I guess that's an acquired skill, because no matter what the size, I have no problem with that now). Luckily, I guess I was always creative-minded, because even when I was a beginner, my technique was somewhat praised. It just took me a while to gain some real confidence -- every time I found myself with a cock at mouth level, I felt like I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.

So what changed my mind? Initiative, I suppose. Roughly six months after I had lost my virginity, I found myself with my third lover, who would enthusiastically eat me out, and I couldn't help but think that it was common courtesy to return the favour.* But I still found myself lacking confidence in that particular art. So how did I learn my technique? Well, Google is your friend. I ended up searching for "blowjob techniques", or something like that, and came across a website in which a gay man explained how to give a good blowjob. Perfect, I thought, for who would know better than one who both gives and receives it?**

What I read changed my perception on the art of fellatio. Before that, I had approached it as a chore. This man, whoever he was, offered a completely different viewpoint: To give fellatio is intimate. It's loving. If you're going to be sucking a cock, take the time to explore it, get to know it. That certainly worked for me; the next time I sucked my boyfriend's cock, I no longer did it with the objective of making him happy enough so that I could stop, but rather, I did it with a new curiosity, really taking in how he felt inside my mouth. My attitude had changed completely. And add to that some of the specific techniques I had learned***, I got to work with great gusto. I had of course practised on my fingers beforehand, but what are they in comparison to an eager cock?

The second time I tried out my new skills, I was rewarded with the first time a guy came in my mouth. I had been sucking him, playing around, exploring, and vaguely thinking that I was sort of starting to enjoy this more, and suddenly realised he was on the verge of coming. And in my mind, I coaxed him, "Come on, baby, come for me!". And come he did. And I, after swallowing the load, wondered what the big deal was about the taste of semen. Sure, it doesn't exactly taste of fine wine, but it's not sulphuric acid, either. Sheesh. Of course, I eventually discovered that changes in diet and lifestyle do seem to affect the taste of a person's orgasmic secretions.

In any case, after that incident, I was converted, and have enjoyed giving head ever since. In fact, I really miss giving head, but I do it so very rarely these days. My beloved is the only one who gets the full extent of that privilege, as we are fluid bonded to each other, which, obviously, includes oral sex. And generally, I don't bother giving head to my other suitors, because, let's face it, flavoured condoms taste like shit. Thus, I only do it when I'm truly burning for it, and that tends to require me to like and more or less trust the recipient. As a result, fellatio has become a much more intimate thing for me than actual intercourse.

I suppose one thing which will always come to mind when I think of how much I enjoy giving head is actually one of my casual encounters: this was some time before my beloved and I agreed on fluid bonding, back when our relationship was still casual. I had met this man through a swinger's site, and we quite impulsively decided to meet at a pub. Less than an hour later, we were naked in bed together. One of the things I most fondly remember about him, actually, was how when I had been straddling him on the couch, kissing him deeply, he got up and lifted me in the same movement, my legs around his waist. He carried me up the stairs to his bedroom that way, and lowered me onto the bed. Let me explain: while I may be quite slender, my height still makes me quite heavy, so being carried in such a way is a very rare treat for me indeed.

But back to the events of that night: we got naked very quickly, and I found my pussy practically worshipped by this man. Within moments, I came; and, after having donned a condom, he folded my legs over his shoulders and slid into me. We shagged with a gleeful passion, and he asked whether I'd like to ride him. Gladly, I said, although I found that I really didn't want him to stop. He thrust into me a few more times, then pulled out and rolled over onto his back so I could straddle him. I slid back onto him and rode him slowly, often forcing him to slow down until finally, I allowed him to build proper speed and rode him to climax.

It was after we had spent some time lying next to each other, recovering and swapping amusing sexual anecdotes, that he kissed his way up the insides of my thighs and ate my pussy out again. By the end of that, I was itching to return the favour, so I straddled his legs, and started licking and stroking his cock back into hardness. I then went to work properly, realising how much I had missed giving head (I had already kept it a relatively rare thing back then). I was reminded of how I enjoy it, not for the power that it gives me, but for the feeling of this thing quivering and practically singing out, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" as I stroke it with my tongue. I went slowly, dragging it out, enjoying the slow build-up I was giving him before working towards actually getting him off. I could tell a moment or two before he was going to come, and from then on, made sure to suck him hard through his orgasm, savagely prolonging it. I was rewarded with an exclamation of "Oh God!", which satisfied me that I had done my job well. He took a while to recover from that, and basically wrapped all his limbs around me in what I suspect was a moment of throwing caution to the wind. He had been attentive all along, but in no way affectionate. It was nice to see that some people do have some one-night-stand etiquette.

We actually met up one more time a few weeks afterwards, and had sex, but our second time was quite unremarkable, so in my mind, I still like to treat this one as a one-night-stand, and remember it with great fondness. Some months later, partly spurred on my being reminded of how much I had enjoyed giving head again, I crossed that line with my beloved: we had been lovers for several months, but had never had oral sex, as he was at the time fluid-bonded with someone else, and I respected that. But I guess one day, I decided that I wanted his cock in my mouth, and was happy for it to be a one-sided thing. It was actually in a very random heated moment, near a playground at twilight (yes, the children had gone home!), that I sucked him off for the first time. It was only a very quick and fleeting thing, but in retrospect, it was probably one of the many turning points in our relationship. I got myself tested for any STD's shortly afterwards, and since then have been careful almost to the point of paranoia when it comes to fluid exchange. I sometimes think back to the days before that, and cringe at the risks I took back then. But it seems to be quite normal, which is all the more disturbing, considering what can be transmitted through oral sex alone.

Well, it is probably time for me to wrap up this entry now. I think I have adequately conveyed the extent to which I've been thinking of cock today. On that note, I think it is time for me to go and have a wank. I did have a very nice one earlier today though... I love how dripping wet I get with such slow stimulation. Though my poor vibrator is taking a bashing -- I think I might have to buy a AA battery charger!



*That being said though, I hate it when a man will eat me out because he feels he should, or because he wants me to suck him off. If you don't enjoy what you're doing in the sack, what's the point? My only excuse for having had that same attitude back then was that I was only eighteen.

**That perception was partly fuelled by the fact that a few months prior to that, a male friend of mine had flippantly said that women should have penises for a few years early in life, just so they learn how to give decent blowjobs. Apparently that same friend of mine has been guilty of saying, whilst receiving a blowjob from a girl, "Nup. You're crap. Stop it."

***The one that impressed me the most, and which I still find to be a keeper these days, is the bob and twist: as you do the classic bobbing up and down motion associated with a blowjob, you twist your head from side to side, thus allowing your tongue to swirl around your lover's cock... trust me, he'll thank you for it!