I have experienced this 3 times with 3 different guys and even though I have always wondered what the problem is, it’s what happened this weekend which really got me upset—to the extent that I am writing about it today.
As a woman, I wouldn’t want to be putting my fingers in my thing and then lick them like some damn lollipop but I am reasonable enough not to stop a guy from kissing me, right after he has been down there. It’s called being understanding and not making the other feel he did something gross when you probably enjoyed it, asked him for it or wanted it.
The truth is, the man who spends hours down there (I can take a hell lot of time to get to dreamland) does not necessary get anything from doing so—except to make me happy and perhaps enjoy me ‘moan’ like a damn cat, writes Cynthia Owusu on BrutallyUncensored.Com.
With this in mind, why don’t men realize women do not necessary get anything when we spend time ‘BJing’ them down there—except to hurt our jaws and increase the width of our mouths? Some senseless ones even try to burst your throat…
As mentioned above, on 3 previous occasions I have tried to kiss men who pulled their mouths away after expressly asking for me to go down there —and it didn’t bother me that much to complain because I was ready to get some. After all, the kissing wasn’t what I truly needed at that time.
But it was pretty off putting to want to kiss someone when it’s all getting interesting and the person starts playing smart with his mouth simply because your mouth just arrived from down there, something he really enjoyed.
Another reason why I was not much bothered about these 3 occurrences as compared to last weekend’s happening is the fact that I voluntarily decide to make things more exciting by going on my knees, though they guarded my head and enjoyed my splendid mouth work. It was like I asked for something; I got it and I had to bear the following reaction or consequence.
But what happened last weekend was nothing like the above. He asked and beg that I should give him that head and after resisting (because it was in a car), I decided to do it under the condition that he should not spray anything into my mouth—which meant he had to alert me or turn to the other side when he was ready to shoot.
And then he threw it all straight into my throat and even wanted me to drink it as though I had just landed myself my favourite condensed milk. Of course I was not going to do that so I opened the car’s door and threw it all out on the floor. I know it’s disgusting but what could a sister do? The earlier that ‘shyt’ left my mouth, the better…