My aversion to and fear of men going down on me has been pretty well documented on my blogs. I’m totally cool with girls chowing my box, I’m more than willing to chow some box, but I’m totally skeeved out by the idea of letting a guy bury his face in my snatch.
Bartender loves to eat pussy. Absolutely loves it. Unfortunately, I have to be very, very comfortable with someone before I let them go down on me. I’m willing to let him eventually, and we’re taking small steps towards it (last night, I let him go down on me for like a minute. I didn’t pull away, either. I did, however, cover my face with my hands. Baby steps, remember?).
I get unbelievably wet when I’m aroused. Like, dripping, soaking wet. Puddles on the bed, dripping down my legs, smeared all over the man’s stomach. It used to embarrass me, but now I’m cool with it and it’s better than being dry and needing lube all the time. Bartender thought that this might be the reason that I’m wary of letting people go down on me. In an effort to let me know that it wasn’t a problem for him, he said, “It’s cool, babe. I don’t mind coming up looking like a glazed doughnut.”
That’s supposed to make me feel better about it? At least it made me laugh.
I'm Britni, a snarky bitch and generally awesome person. I write about sex, love, and bullshit. If sex-positivity, discussions about BDSM and kink, queer issues, and topics that are completely inappropriate by society's standards make you uncomfortable, then this blog is not for you.
Good Vibes 
One Comment
I have similar misgivings about coming in front of guys, generally. At least, I used to. My boyfriend thinks it's cool, however, so I've been a little less concerned. Baby steps, I guess.