Are You Still Turned On?

Someone asked me today what goes through my head when I’m giving a blow job.

Probably the same thing that goes through anyone’s head I imagine. Whatever goes through your head when you’re going down on a girl. But I didn’t say that, as this was a brief Twitter convo and I was at work.

So, on the off chance that what goes through my head isn’t in fact what goes through yours, or for those of you like my Twitter acquaintance who are just curious to know, here is what happens in my mind when I have a cock in my mouth.

I’m usually thinking ‘Yasss! Cock in my mouth’ in the first few seconds, followed closely by ‘God I hope he stays hard so I can play with it a little’. Then, ‘Am I doing this the way he wants?’ ‘Should I use my hands?’

‘God this tastes good’

‘I hope I’m not annoying him?’

‘Is he still into this?’

‘Does he want me to just focus on making him come?’

‘Would he rather I stopped so he could fuck me? Is that what he actually wants and is just waiting to say so?’

 

If I’m not thinking any of these things to the point of actual distraction, if I am just leisurely, languidly sucking and licking as I’d like, then invariably and I mean invariably, I get painfully aroused. I love hearing him moan, that deep guttural, back of throat sound that’s half way between breathing and a growl. I love knowing that I am making that happen. I love the noise, the words the look on his face. When I know he’s into it, I sometimes just want to stop what I’m doing and sit on it. While at the same time craving and hungry for him to fill my mouth with his come, it’s a tough choice every time.

 

But it’s also at this point that I start to think about a second him. I want a clone of the guy I’m with and I want the clone to start fucking me, slowly at first then harder.

 

Sucking cock is one of my greatest pleasures in life. I said as much, not long ago, after making a guy come. ‘Can you imagine not liking blow jobs?’

‘What? Giving or getting them?’ was his response.

And then we fell down a rabbit hole that led to the morality of him being in my bed at that time. But I won’t digress onto that, I can promise you it’s a story for never.

 

But back to blowjobs. What am I really, mostly thinking?

‘God this is hot, I really hope he’s thinking the same’

 

And incidentally the last blow job I gave was spectacular. Not that I’m saying my performance was but my enjoyment of it was.

It went like this:

I was on step one to getting aroused; I was under no pressure. He already knew I could make him come, there was nothing to prove here. A perfect starting position.

As I sucked and licked, dipped to the back of my throat, rubbed my lips on and off it – he stayed perfectly, gloriously hard. This increased my arousal – the fact that I was allowed to do what I liked, that he was happy to watch and that it was arousing enough for him maintain his erection even though I wasn’t doing anything consistently or rhythmically. This is one of my favourite things in existence.

 

But I wanted more I now needed him to come for me – I think he might have sensed my need as he asked where did I want him to come. This was tough as I desperately wanted to be fucked but equally wanted to have him shoot hot streams of his come into my mouth. I plumped for the mouth and savoured every second of his gloriously, growling climax.

 

I really couldn’t have enjoyed it more. And thoughts of it now will get me off.

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