Please know that this post is most definitely Not Safe For Work. If we could seal a section of the internet as if it’s a magazine, we’d seal this. We’d seal it good and proper.
If you prefer a romanticised sex-life, or one where you don’t ever say words like ‘sweaty balls’ then best you click away now. You have been warned…
I’m just going to come right out and say it:
Giving head is the worst.
It’s okay – you’re reading this in your mind right now so nobody has to know that you agree.
I understand, as unjust as it is, that most ladies (and I suspect a lot of guys) feel like they can’t admit to having unpleasant feelings about sausage-shaped chunks of rigid flesh being shoved repeatedly into their mouths.
There seems to be a general feeling that one must pretend to enjoy performing oral sex or risk a life of loneliness, listening to Taylor Swift while getting into twitter fights with people about Jennifer Aniston’s love-life.
I get it. There’s pressure to conform. But this is a safe place, and I think we all just need to admit that eating penis isn’t enjoyable.
Don’t get me wrong – I totally accept that giving lady-head would be just as unpleasant an experience. I can’t imagine having to swim through my pube garden would be easy by any means. But it’s all about doing something nice for someone else and taking one for the team. So while I understand that enjoyment can come from doing something that your partner enjoys, that doesn’t mean you have to enjoy the sweaty balled, sperm-inducing act itself.
I mean, let’s break it down, shall we?
It usually begins with a make-out session that is rudely interrupted by the not-so-subtle pushing down of the head. That is the penis-owner’s code for: “I would like an orgasm that requires no physical exertion on my part. Thanks in advance.”
If you accept your fate and agree to be a selfless blow-job hero, you then have to pull off the dude’s undies and untangle his sweaty bulge from his hairy balls (one of which always needs to be peeled off the inside of his leg) and unfurl them like one of those wrinkly puppies stretching out in the sun.
All the sweat that has been collecting in between his pubes from hours locked inside his penis-oven now glistens on your hands, which you try to politely wipe on the bed/carpet/your own pants without him seeing. Because romance/magic etc.
After some obligatory kissing of the general area, you eventually realise that you’ve put off the inevitable long enough – you must take the actual penis into your mouth. You can only cup sweaty balls and kiss the safe zone between the belly button and the pubes for so long. You must get down to business.