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Monday, November 28, 2005


I have an oral fixation.

Not because I spend all day staring in awe at other people’s mouths. (Just some of the day). I do however spend an inordinate amount of time focussed on my own mouth, constantly desiring to put something in it; my oral hunger, ravenous.

For most people, eating a sweet, some chewing gum or some food would most likely sate their oral appetite; mine however takes much more.

A cock to be exact; the sensation of having my mouth filled with something so delicious, is up there in my mind as some kind of oral heaven. But, with it not being possible to give a blow-job as the mood takes me (unless I had a partner of course, in which case some spontaneous oral activity would (hopefully) occur on a regular basis), there is an ever present yearning to fill my mouth with something else.

Years ago I used to smoke; the lip and tongue stimulation it provided a wonderful way to assist my need to suck on something. But being a dirty, nasty, unhealthy habit, I quit. You’d never know now that I used to be a heavy smoker, what with my annoying habit of fanning smokers’ exhalations back at them, or loudly complaining that my newly washed hair reeks of tobacco. But back then, I was rarely seen without a stink-stick hanging out of my gob, so it was a huge challenge to give up my addiction.

One of the hardest things for me when I did quit smoking was that I was left without something in my mouth: I had spent years sucking away and didn’t know what to do with myself when left with an empty gob (besides incessant talking that is).

At the time, I took to chewing gum, sucking on sweets and nibbling on pens to plug the gap. Sadly, I almost gave myself a stomach ulcer from the gum; I developed cavities in my teeth from the sugared sweets; and I got ink (of varying colours) all over my tongue after sucking on pens enthusiastically a few too many times.

Clearly I had a problem, but I was dammed if I was going to smoke again; I was determined to kick the habit forever. But I was also desperate to have something to sate my oral need.

So I went and got my tongue pierced. A personal challenge to myself (cowardly squeamish about medical stuff at the best of times) and one in which I was very pleased with the result: not only did it look nice, but it felt nice. All those nerve endings that had been fired up so wonderfully by smoking were now being similarly stimulated. It was delicious.

With a barbell in my tongue it gave me something to occupy my mouth; I was free to suck on it all day. And I did, playing with it constantly and enjoying every minute; each roll of the metal exciting my tongue like a lovers’ kiss. It was wonderful.

This new-found delight had other consequences though: the constant sucking action in my mouth created a level of wetness I had not expected. And I’m not only talking about saliva. Whilst I rolled my tongue piercing around, I found myself getting horny – unbearably so – and was at a loss to know what to do with myself.

Besides the obvious.

I recall many frustrating days and nights brought on as a result of my barbell-sucking. Left to my own devices I got through enough batteries to power a small village. Frustrating, to say the least.

Being single at the time, I wasn’t aware that having a tongue piercing might be enjoyable for someone else too: when guys used to ask me, ‘Is it any good for you know what?’ and wink at me, I could only respond with a sigh and explain that mouth jewellery wasn’t necessarily for oral sex.

Some years later, I learned different though. For every moment of enjoyment I might have got from playing with my tongue piercing, you can multiply that by a hundred when I finally sucked someone’s cock with it: it was the perfect way to combine and sate my oral appetite with giving a guy simultaneous pleasure; whilst I was getting a mouth-job, he would get a blow-job with a difference.

So now, when asked why I got my tongue pierced, I usually just say, ‘To give a guy a great blow job’ and wink at the bloke asking me, whilst knowing full well that the pleasure really is all mine.

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