It was at a friend’s birthday party that I met my first ever long-term boyfriend. We had both just graduated high school, were stepping into college life and were absolutely thrilled by the idea of being in the company of the other sex without any kind of parental guidance. It only helped that the two of us instantly hit it off at the party. Within two months we were dating, and two days into our relationship we had our first make-out session.
It was more than just fun. We hadn’t been intimate with anyone before and that made it even more special. Our sex lives went from first gear to the third gear in an instant, and the next couple of months were spent sneaking in and out of each other’s house, rolling from beds to couches, bunking college…basically just not missing any opportunity to be around each other.
By the time we decided to sleep together, we were both very comfortable with each other’s bodies and presence and it felt like the right thing to do. He was sweet, understanding and everything that I wanted at that time in my life.
Everything was perfect, until one day, after a hot make-out session he whispered in my ear, “Baby, you know what would turn us on even more? Going down on each other!” I looked at him, smiling mischievously at me and suddenly felt my heart beat faster… But for all the wrong reasons!
It’s not like I hadn’t thought about oral sex or had long conversations about blow jobs with my friends, but I had never thought I would have to make an on the spot decision about it. He was so excited at the prospect that I didn’t have the heart to say no and I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try it. After all, I loved him. Once he had his pants off, though, I suddenly felt a bit repulsed by something I was thoroughly enjoying until just a few minutes ago. Several questions popped into my head. How hygienic was he? Did he properly clean himself down there? How long was this supposed to last? When was the last time he peed?! I tried to discuss my concerns with him but he waved them off saying, “everyone does it” and “it’s not a big deal.”
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With all the strength that I could muster I went down on him, and instead of being highly turned on by how much he was enjoying the experience, I simply wanted to get it over with. As he directed me to go faster, I felt like I was about to throw up, and by the time he was done, I just wanted to get out of there. He offered to go down on me next but I was too turned off by the whole experience to do anything after that.
From then on, every time the topic of oral sex came up, I would either politely decline or make some silly excuse which would lead to an argument. Being someone who always stood up for her rights, I did not see why I had to do something that sickened me just to keep him satisfied. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I did not care about his satisfaction, but I just could not understand why this was the primary way of achieving it.
The fights continued but our sex life shifted back to first gear after a while. We dated for a good two years but called it quits in our final year of college. We figured we still had time to meet other people if we wanted to and it was, more or less, an amicable break-up.
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I have never indulged in oral sex after that and have been very clear on my stance about it. I have met other guys, been intimate with them and they have enjoyed whatever I had to offer minus the oral part of sex. Maybe I will give it another shot at some point of time in my life, when I feel comfortable with the idea… But I know that that time is nowhere near yet.
