Erotic Stories by Alicia Night Orchid

There was a time when a blow job meant something.

I was reading an article about how junior high and even elementary school girls are lining up to give blow jobs to boys they don't even know. It made me feel a little prudish and a little old. And, in the end, it made me feel a little self-righteous.

When I was in junior high, the word blow job was hardly spoken—at least by good girls like me. In high school, it was something you did when you got a little older with someone you really cared for. Although, I have to admit, I had a really hard time believing my mother ever gave anyone a blow job. She just didn't seem to have the temperament for it.

Even in college in the early 90s, you might give a boy a hand job, you might let him finger you in the bathroom at a frat party, or more likely at a poetry reading or political rally in my case. You might even fuck him, if he used a condom, and dry humping was the order of the day. But despite all the hype and bullshit, I think a blow job was relatively uncommon. Most of the girls I knew (and maybe I only knew the prudish good girls I wrote about in my "Good Girl Wet" series on Literotica) would stick a finger down their throats, if someone raised the issue of blow jobs. We never reached the question of spit or swallow.

Not that the boys didn't want them and not that we didn't know about them. But there was this sense I had...and like I say maybe I was a prude...that a blow job was reserved for a special guy and a special moment.

So much for that.

Blow jobs are everywhere these days. HBO had a special on how to give a good blow job. I know someone who does seminars on the topic, complete with gigantic dildos to demonstrate. The article I read about pre-pubescent girls giving blow jobs to strangers appeared in the Atlantic Monthly. The Atlantic Monthly! Everywhere you look on the Internet there are pics and vids of women giving blow jobs. It's become so common that it's expected. And when something is expected, it becomes ho hum.

Several years ago, I earned a living giving phone sex. Most of the calls I received were from married guys who wanted to talk about either anal or oral sex. Most of them, even if they started out talking about anal sex ended up talking about oral sex. They would phone fuck me in the ass, then phone squirt onto my face. I'm saying ninety percent of the calls. The truth is, all they really wanted was for their wives to give them a blow job. They worked hard all week, played with the kids on the weekend, and now and then just wanted a fucking blow job. I guess they were married to the good girls I roomed with on Harper 8 in college, because they weren't getting it at home.

I would talk them through it, slow or fast, hard or sweet, whatever they wanted. The average call lasted less than ten minutes. Thankfully, I didn't take it personally.

I like oral sex, both giving and receiving. Unlike a lot of women I know, I have more intense orgasms through fucking than being eaten, but I like having my pussy licked by a man (or a woman) who knows what he/she is doing. I've actually had a few orgasms while giving a man a blow job--you know, one of those really intense nights when it feels like your pussy is one with the universe.

I mean, your face is right there. It's in their hair and their odors and their sweat. It's special, whether it takes place at the Ritz or in the back seat of a Chevy Camaro. They could force themselves down your throat or grab you by the hair of your head (usually, I consider this bad etiquette). They could cum in your mouth, even if you've said you're not ready for that yet (worse etiquette). See what I mean, this is not something to be done with strangers in strange places.

The first time I blew a boy was in college. We'd been dating for a while. We'd gone from kissing to dry humping to masturbating together, to masturbating each other, to fucking. But we hadn't ventured into oral sex. Then one night I kissed my way down his belly and took his cock in my mouth, because I was having my period and a hand job (although it certainly has its place) just didn't express how I felt about this young man. I didn't know what I was doing, but it really isn't that hard to make a 19 year-old male appreciate your efforts. I licked, I sucked, and I stroked. After about three minutes he came in my hand and over my exposed breasts.

I loved it. And so did he. Still, I have to mention that when my period was past and I went down on him and slid my pussy over his face in my first 69 action, he was less than enthralled about reciprocation.

After that first blow job, I applied myself to the task of mastering the art. I read (Masters and Johnson, Erica Jong), I watched videos (Deep Throat and its progeny), and I practiced on bananas, vibrators, and cucumbers. By the time I graduated law school in New Orleans, I was skilled in the art of fellatio. But, by then, I'd had affairs with professors, worked as a stripper on Bourbon Street, and cooked on the line at a couple of the best restaurants in the city. You can't believe how much sex is enjoyed in meat lockers, food pantries, and back alleys.

Today, I still think of a blow job as something special. Again, maybe I'm a prude. But when I blow my current lover, Ray (who's been in China going on 3 weeks now and who better return soon or I'll start blowing the bed post), I see it as a gift. A gift, because he's been especially thoughtful and remembered me with a box of Vosges chocolates. A gift, because he's massaged my feet or shoulders for an hour without thought of recompense. A gift,because he's tasted my most recent experiment in the kitchen (chipotle crab cakes with cilantro whip cream) and said it was incredible, even if it wasn't.

I like to take my time with a blow job. My favorite position is kneeling on my knees in front of a fireplace while my lover looks out over the sun setting in the Pacific Ocean. I like to start slow, kissing and licking and nibbling. I like to get him good and hard before I take the head into my mouth, before I slide his penis deep into my mouth and coat the shaft with my slippery saliva. I like to play with his balls while I lick and bob, or if he's up for it, his asshole. Not all men are into this, but I have a preference for those who are. Sometimes, with a very special man, on a very special occasion, I like to suck and lick his balls or tickle his asshole with my tongue.

When I sense he's ready, I go to work in earnest. Licking at the head and sucking up and down while stroking and cupping his balls at the same time. There are men in porno flicks who can resist this for hours on end, but my experience with real men is that this lasts only for a while. No man with a full sack can hold back in the face of a loving woman worshiping his member, playing with his balls, and looking up to him with eyes that are begging for it.

Pretty much from the beginning, I've been a committed swallower. I like to write about the man who came all over my face, dripping his cum onto my tongue and into my mouth, down my chin, and onto my breasts. And there is definitely a time and place for this, but most of the time, when I've worked hard for it, I want to taste it. I want to feel my man shoot his seed into mouth.

I am not a woman who lets a drop go to waste. I am not a girl who stops sucking after her man comes, until he asks me to. And I am not a girl who expects anything in return, although I'll never refuse a long slow licking that leads to a good hard fuck, after my man is hard again. Some women say they enjoy the power and control that comes from giving a blow job. But, for me, a blow job is about giving pleasure. Giving the ultimate pleasure without expectation of anything in return (hope, but not expectation). For me, a blow job remains something special, for someone with whom I have a special connection.

Ultimately, it denigrates a special act, when it becomes common place, when it becomes a substitute for a hand job or mutual masturbation or dry humping or even fucking.

What do you think?