I left Ireland when I was 18 to go to University in Wales. I had a great time. I shook off the jaded judgment of small city Ireland and acted like the person I always wanted to be. Which unfortunately was a bit of an annoying dick. Nonetheless I managed to still have friends, some of which tolerate me to this day even.
But before I left Ireland I was seeing a boy. A nice boy if he did have his issues, I’m not sure what they were but he was the start of my stock trade in broken puppies. A phase I’m glad to be mostly out of?
Anyway, he had moved to Dublin, I wasn’t so sure what I was at, I didn’t know how I felt about him… it was vague anyway. But … and I’m not proud of this, I took off without telling him. That’s right, I moved to Wales before I had a chance to see him and never said goodbye.
I wrote him a letter, from college in Wales, and I never heard from him again. I’m not sure I ever saw him either? Although I do recall some run ins with his sister. Ouch.
No, not my finest move. But to be fair I think he was glad to be well shot of me. We weren’t well suited and he did think I was rubbish at just about everything.
But that wasn’t his legacy. Oh no, that’s not what he’s remembered for in the history annals of my brain. Seán is credited with being the guy who made me decide to be great at blow jobs. Yup, that’s what he did.
But before we go thinking he’s some sound guy who was extra patient and helped me out on my initial exploratory journey into sex, let me unburden you of that notion right now. He wasn’t. He told me I was pretty crap at everything. Hand jobs, blow jobs, sex – even though we didn’t even have sex really. God, come to think of it, given how awful I was at everything why was he with me at all? Maybe I was ok at the kissing (read: I am fecking great at the kissing)
But I wanted to be good at this, I took all the criticisms and tried to be better. I tried asking what he needed, I was eager for direction. But he always finished himself. Grand, I’d usually have gotten bored by then anyway.
So we’d have these conversations, all about how I could get him off – eventually he got me to stand behind him and give him a reach around. But in all of these times there wasn’t ever a conversation about how he would get me off. There was never an offer of him going down on me, no discussion about what he could be doing to get me off.
Maybe he didn’t know that girls did get off?
I’ve no clue.
But I don’t remember thinking that that was weird either? Or maybe I did and I’ve blocked it out. Because the real sting from that relationship was the disaster after disaster of blow jobs.
Before Seán, I had given just one boy a few blow jobs; all had gone successfully, I was happy with my performance, I had generally enjoyed it. Actually I was so happy with the response that it had garnered that I think it had set the tone for me wanting to continue doing it. And I was very surprised to hear that I was supposed to hate it… and that swallowing was an ordeal?
I couldn’t relate to these things so I kept my opinion to myself, it was much later in my life that I started to be vocal about what I enjoyed regardless of cultural norms or what my “friends” thought.
I definitely liked it, that was for damn sure and I was going to do it when the opportunity presented itself. Or so I thought.
But it wasn’t working out as well with cock number two, ever to be in my lovely mouth, this time I wasn’t doing it the way this boy wanted. And whatever I was doing he only seemed to be able to critique my skills, telling me how bad it was or how much he wasn’t enjoying it without actually telling me how I could maybe be doing it better or what he might actually want me to do with my lips and tongue. This was impossible. The situation was untenable. But I persevered and I honestly can’t tell you why.
What I can tell you is that telling someone they’re rubbish at something and displaying an award winning lack of patience is not the way to get what you want or to help someone do something the way you’d like. But none of us is the person we want to be at 18. In fact most of us are dicks.
So it was after Seán that I decided that I was going to be the world’s best blow job giver (I obviously don’t know if I am but I’m fairly sure I’m more than ok). Because I obviously stopped giving him head, and of course moved countries so he wasn’t going to get any benefit from this personal resolution I’d made, inside my head. But right, just before that phenomenal resolution, I’d actually decided to give them up forever, so scarred was I by the continual failures, I never wanted another dick in my mouth. And I’ll tell you now, for I don’t know any of you, I’m not someone who’s great at a lot of things and at 18 there wasn’t anything that I was good at, at all, so this embarrassment was too much to continue to bear.
But along came the next boy, who patiently coaxed me into eventually putting his dick near my mouth and when I did? Well miraculously he came in like seconds – which of course did everything for my fellating confidence. Not only that but he was complimentary and gracious. So I gave him more blow jobs and the more I gave the more he liked them, the more he appreciated them the better I felt (fancy that?). This was self-perpetuating. Until, eventually I told him what had happened with the other boy and naturally he was shocked. Ok, he wasn’t totally shocked, he knew I had been reluctant at the start he just didn’t know why.
Anyway, not content with just being able to make him come with my mouth I wanted to do more. I wanted to learn to deep throat and to do tricks. I wanted to be able to own a man with my mouth.
So I practised, I read, I trialled and I practised some more. I wanted to make sure that I could give any kind of blow job that anyone would want, I wanted to be memorable. And I would show him, I would show that old boyfriend that he missed out and that I was great at head and that he was wrong….
And ….. then I copped on. Exactly how was I showing him! This guy I never saw and never spoke to? How was me, being Munster’s best blow job giver, affecting him in any way? It wasn’t, of course it wasn’t. How fucking ridiculous. But it was something way better, it had given me a determination that I might not have had otherwise.
So thanks a million misguided boyfriend from when I was a young naïve 18yr old, you did more for me than you’ll ever know. Giving head is one of my greatest pleasures in life, it really is. I just adore doing it and being with someone who loves getting it.
And before you think I’m lacking any manners – I of course do thank the boy who took the patience route and got me to believe in my cock sucking skills. Thanks D, you had your moments.
And we all lived happily ever after.
(I moved back to Ireland – just in case you hadn’t guessed. And I still live here to this day, imagine that)