Inner Monologue Of A Person Giving A Blow Job

Giving an impromptu blow job pretty much grants automatic street cred to the dick sucker; and in that way, it’s a total win-win. He’s gonna get his dick sucked; I’m gonna get off on controlling his mind, body, and penis for the next ~20 minutes. There are no losers here.

[moments of unconscious sexual enjoyment]

I’m legitimately confused about how penises (penii?) taste so wonderful. I mean, it’s just skin, but it’s not salty or sweaty or… I don’t know, it’s like penii are immune to forces of nature that the rest of the body fall victim to. A penis doesn’t taste like an armpit or a foot. A penis sets the bar for how flesh should taste. Or maybe it’s just this particular penis I’m sucking. Maybe this one happens to be perfect.

[moments of unconscious sexual enjoyment]

What never ceases to amaze me about having a dick in my mouth is how smooth the head is. Like, were you designed to be slobbered on, honey? Why are you so flawless and adorable? There is no part of the human anatomy that deserves the warmth and wetness of a mouth more than the tip of a penis. Even when I’m not in the mood, I see a hard penis all erect down there; and then the head, the icing on a shining penis-beacon of hope, and I’m like, “This beautiful specimen is proof that there’s a god, hallelujah.”

[moments of unconscious sexual enjoyment]

I could seriously fall asleep right now with just the tip in my mouth, but that probably wouldn’t be much fun for the rest of the penis or for the person who’s attached to it. Better move my way down a little. I guess I’ll get some hand action in there, too.

[moments of unconscious sexual enjoyment]

God damn, this is a family affair. We’ve got hands, there’s balls, the head, the shaft, my mouth… I mean this takes a fuckload of coordination and I’m not necessarily athletic but I’m gonna try my damnedest to see this thing through. I’m gonna suck that head, work that shaft, and mind those balls — I wonder if this guy knows sucking his dick is a freaking blue collar job. Seriously, I hope he’s prepared to offer me workers’ comp because if he doesn’t come soon, I’m gonna have to take medical leave from penis-related activity.

[moments of belabored, but purposeful, sucking]

Should I suggest we fuck instead? Unless I get some pre-cum to work with, my reservoir is about to dry up. There’s only so much saliva in one mouth. Is it poor form to take a water break? I’m just gonna sit up for a second and jerk him off so I can replenish my natural resources.

[moments of hoping visual of breasts/ hand job is enough to suffice until strength has been regained]

All right, I’m back in the game. He’s making affirming noises. Please, keep making those noises. I’m Tinker Bell and your moaning is the applause I need to keep me alive. Seriously, keep clapping or I will die down here.

[moments of summoning every ounce of moisture from mouth onto penis]

OK. My hand is covered in my own spit, I’m developing tennis elbow and possibly carpal tunnel syndrome; but on the bright side he’s telling me he’s almost there. I know that means I’m gonna be on my knees for another 10 minutes, but I need all the positive reinforcement I can get.

[moments of sucking that dick like there’s no tomorrow]

It’s coming. I mean, he’s coming. Like right no– oh, that’s… well, it’s not water, but I’ll take it.