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Wednesday, August 03, 2005


Since as far back as I can remember the human female has fascinated me. Ladies, I love the way you think, the way your bodies yield when held close, that look in your eyes that says, “I have secrets that you’d love to unravel,” the way you move… Shit, I just love everything about you. And as a man who piously worships at the female altar, I love to give you that special kiss. You know what I’m talking about. Whistling in the wheat field. Yodeling in the valley. Getting a taste of the pink delight. Eating the fish sandwich. You guessed it, chica; I’m talking about that face-first greeting to the one hundred percent all-girl sandwich meat. Yes, I’m talking about eating your pussy until your eyes roll back into your skull, your knees wobble like a Jell-O mold during a major earthquake, and your nose starts to bleed.

The phrasing may seem crass, but true passion is seldom eloquent.

Some guys refuse to even entertain the thought of orally pleasing a lady — especially many members of my own highly rhythmic special interest group — and I not only pity them, but I also pity their women. These men usually explain away their reluctance with pronouncements that the pussy is “nasty.” In my opinion, I think they are skittish thanks to ignorance, fear, and belief in such outright falsehoods as the long-held male belief that woman-stuff smells like fish; perhaps when the woman in question is gynecologically ill or putting up with certain punctual annoyances that their gender is heir to, but usually the stuff is quite nice. So, guys, butch up and go south.

It’s not the hardest thing in the world to do, especially if you communicate with your partner. Newsflash, fellas: women like to come just as much as you do, and if you show an eagerness to get them there, they will direct you with the same aplomb as that displayed by a skilled air traffic controller. Some like the “alphabet” method — wherein you lick the alphabet, but if you do that I advise against humming the “Alphabet Song” — others like aggressive attention to their clit, there are those who like a gentle kissing effect to the aforementioned “yummy button” coupled with some manual stimulation to their G-spot, exactly the same as the aforementioned only with the added bonus of a friendly digit up the booty, and the real adventurers who enjoy that most personal lick accompanied by a carefully and patiently administered hand that becomes a gentle fist, filling her utterly in ways that a penis just isn’t equipped to do… The variations are endless, so ask her what she likes, you horny fool!

But then there is that most frightening of anomalies: the woman who finds her own good stuff to be repellent and disgusting, thereby being grossed-out in the first place, and utterly unwilling to let the kind headsman get down to business. These women, I am convinced, were raised by repressed mothers and had no borderline-nymphomaniac friends or sisters to inform them that good, orally-generated, ear-grabbing orgasms are the exact cosmic opposite of such things as the Black Plague, the Holocaust, and GIGLI, and may not necessarily be beyond help, but those whom I have run into with this sad affliction are impossible to convince otherwise and so I politely get out of being with them. I mean, how the fuck do you get someone over her deeply rooted genital self-hatred without years of therapy? Sadly, I am merely a blogger and not a sexologist, so the answers to such questions cannot be provided by your humble cunnilinguist. If any of you readers — particularly the female ones — can add any constructive comments, or even your own advice for the would-be oralist, please send your comments and I will eventually craft an entry culled from your musings, so don’t delay, send them today! And don’t be afraid to be graphically honest; the details are always fun!


Anonymous said...
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Suki said...

Most men view the female equipment as something soft and delicate, so they lick softly and delicately.

Actually, pull away the hood, etc., and what you have is a mini-penis, with the exact same number of nerves as a penis. Just think of how hard you have to rub your thing to get off. We chics need the same kind of attention.

As for being repressed about our bodies: of course. My mom was a wild hippy, and read books and stuff, but the undertone was to be ashamed of our anatomy. But so what? Ever onward.

Guys: if you don't know what to do down there, ask. I mean, we know a lot of your enjoyment of sex is an ego thing, and so telling you what to do all the time would be a no-no. So we don't tell you what to do as much as we should. On the other hand, we don't want to spend the entire time in bed, drawing a road map. The best thing to do is try stuff, and if your lady friend isn't responding (or actually, this might be a fun game if she is) ask her yes/no hot/cold questions. As in "Want it harder?" "Am I getting hot?" You'll know it's too hard when you hear "Ouch!"

Da Nator said...

P.S.: Guess what? Dan Savage featured comments from readers on how to perform the act properly in a recent column. Check it out at,savage,66238,24.html.

Da Nator said...

Finally, you can't fool us - you liked GIGLI.

Not Feelin' Clever said...

Well, ask and ye shall receive.

We had a longish conversation about women who don't like their bits the other day, so I won't retread that ground overmuch, especially as everyone else seems to already have done a fairly decent job of it. I will say though that as someone who has done the Vag Monologues more times than she can count (no, I actually don't like the show that much but yes, it was for charity), I don't think there's really that much loathing so much as a general lack of understanding or genuine communication in regards to the nature, fits and starts of the female anatomy. It's a sacred thing, and sacred things can be notoriously difficult to get; acceptance has, to me, always been the ideal to which we should strive.

So, with that in mind, I say to those who are having difficulties getting their significant other to allow them down the path of righteousness into the valley of "oh, sweet Christ! Don't stop!" - tie them up.

I'm not kidding.

If your ladyfriend doesn't have a legitimate, deeply held, extremely difficult psychological problem she's dealing with (we're talking molestation/rape/emotional abuse), if she just thinks of the entire vaginal area as "sorta dirty" and would simply prefer that you not place your face at the juncture of her thighs, because she can't imagine why anyone would willingly go there, then take the decision and, coincidentally, the responsibility out of her hands.

Nancy Friday asserted that one possible reason for the prevalence of the rather misnomered "rape fantasy" from when she did the interviews for My Secret Garden was because it allowed women the freedom of their sexuality without the ownership of their actions: no matter what happened in her mind, it simply wasn't her fault. Friday saw this as a response to the attitudes that Lynn noted earlier regarding feminine promiscuity, she also went on to say in a follow-up work that that type of fantasy is far less prevalent now (or in this case, the early 90s) than it was in the 70's. Hooray progress.

The most earth-shattering, mind-erasing oral sexual encounters I've ever had occurred while I was tied down/up. My particular oral sex hang-up isn't the thought that it's gross, it's the thought that I ought to be doing something to give as much pleasure as I'm getting, but either way, my inability to use my upper body in any useful way in both of those experiences freed me of any sense of either obligation or control.

And I'm a mover, so I'm sure it was much easier to do and I was lot less distracting with the aid of a couple slip-knotted neckties. =^}

It's also a good way to convince a lover you want to be there - if someone can do whatever they like to you and they subsequently choose to bury their face in your crotch and not return until they've found the lost treasure of the Sierra Madre, it's difficult to assert that that person was unhappy with the decision. Logically speaking.

From an advice/preferences standpoint for those who wanna know:

I'm superglad about this whole "find the clitoris. worship the clitoris. rinse. repeat." trend. I think it's something that everyone who will ever encounter a vag (either through ownership of one or friendly relations with the owner of one) needs to know. Really I do. And if you know it, then it's time to forget about it (at least temporarily). Explore. There's a whole world of parts and skin and nerves that aren't the clitoral bud, take the time to figure out what else makes the pussy you call home happy. Personally, I can't really deal with over stimulation of the unhooded clitoris - it's way too much sensation. Gentle sucking or nibbling's about as much as I can deal with there. The area around the clit is a whole 'nother story, especially the skin just under the joy button. Just think of it like clitoral foreplay.

Or that could only work for me. So really what I say or anyone else says doesn't matter worth a damn; treat every woman like you have never gone down on anyone ever before and take the time not just to figure out what she likes and doesn't like, but also to rediscover everything you love about going down on girls. I’m sure we’ll all be glad you did.