*This Kink of the Week is guest written by Sir.*
I remember being in middle school and being completely confused by my peers’ obsession with boobs. They would sit and talk about Pamela Anderson’s tits or Cindy Crawford’s tits or Anna Nicole Smith’s tits. These tits, it was said, were the key to the beauty of a woman. The better the tits, the better the woman. And bigger always meant better.
Which, as a young man, was a truism of such staggering stupidity that for a couple of years I thought I was gay. Because Roseanne Barre had MASSIVE tits, and I didn’t find her in the least bit attractive.
I never really thought I was completely gay because there was something that I was pulled to, but never saw. That gentle slit between the legs that hid a magnificent bounty of hormonal attraction. Pussy.
When I finally got an internet connection worth using for porn, I drowned myself in downloaded pussy (after disabling the laughably poor parental controls on the computer). I was quickly pulled (as were many young men I believe) toward “lesbian” porn. Not real lesbian porn, obviously, but porn starring two women and directed by two men. I liked the scissoring and the fingering, but I was absolutely, electrically pulled towards the girls eatting pussy. The camera would pull in close (pay no heed to where that woman’s camera-side leg is – it’s gone now, that’s all that matters) and you would get the powerful combination of gentle, precise tongue strokes and loud, low moans. I knew I HAD to eat pussy!
I didn’t actually get my first chance until college. Honestly, it was Rye.
Okay, truth is I’ve only ever eaten Rye’s pussy. I’ve never been nose to groin with any other woman’s pelvis, though there were a couple of unfortunately close calls in high school involving poorly timed parental footsteps on the stairs.
I have a vivid memory of the first time I ate Rye’s pussy. I had no idea what I was doing, but a vague enough sense of where everything was. I didn’t know what to expect as I pulled myself down her torso, fingertips pressing and pulling on her stomach. Would I hate the smell like everyone said? Would I fuck it up? Who cares! Eat Pussy!
After she was done moaning and writhing on the bed (told you, too much on the clit; if I had done it right she would have been completely unable to move at all) she said, “I don’t know who taught you to do that, but I hate her.”
I had to ask for clarification, but she was jealous of whatever wonder-woman had forced me to spend so much time between their thighs to become such a master tongue master. I smiled a prideful smile there in the dark. “That’s the first pussy I’ve ever eaten,” I said. Even in the dark I could see her confused and concerned look.
I still love to eat pussy, but I don’t do it as much as I used to. Not because it’s lost its appeal, but because I want to make sure that when I do go down on her, she really appreciates it. I don’t think she ever really stopped appreciating my tongue for what it could do to her brain. Maybe I just wanted to pull in the reins to exercise control.
Dominant pussy eating is harder, but much more rewarding. I still need to be able to follow the lure of her body – read her signals, anticipate her direction – so I cannot simply do whatever I like. But I can slow… or stop… orgowaytoofast just as a way to keep her on the edge. I do that. A lot.
Don’t get me wrong: I do like a nice pair of tits (and Rye has a very nice pair) but there’s nothing as good as wet pussy on a woman willing to open her knees.