My husband and I have been together twelve years and married nine. We have two children, and for most of the past ten years I have been primarily a stay at home housewife and mom. I've never considered myself sheltered by any means, I have always assumed that I was quite normal, and further that my husband and I have a very normal sex life.
These assumptions I held until about a year ago when I returned to the work place. Both our boys are now in school and one can only watch so much daytime TV. My husband is in the insurance business and has many contacts in the industry. One of his associates owns an agency not far from my kid's school and so it was an easy transition getting back into the working world.
The agency is probably mid-sized with about eight producers (all males) and a support staff of about twenty (all female). I don't know if it's just the insurance industry or men in general, but all eight of them are married and without exception, all eight are macho, self-absorbed, egotistical jerks. All of them cheat on their wives, or at least they claim they do. All are huge flirts and skirt chasers. And I'm sure every one of them would bed any woman in the office if given the chance. Of course all of this may just be male posturing, but that's the general climate of the office.
On the other hand, the women are total gossips and never seem to mind sharing their opinion about every male (the bosses) in the office and the personal lives of virtually every other woman in the place. For some reason, all of this has come as somewhat of a surprise to me as I guess I just didn't realize woman talked about other woman in such graphic detail. But what has really surprised me, is that among all of the chatter and innuendoes is the almost universal dislike of oral sex. Now not the receiving of oral sex of course, that they all seem to like. It's the giving of oral sex that for some reason they all seem to find objectionable and describe as anywhere between distasteful to down right disgusting.
Here is where I have always thought of myself as perfectly normal, and yet I certainly seem to be at odds with the majority of females at least in this office. Now I guess I wasn't born liking the art of orally pleasing my partner, and in retrospect I will admit it's an acquired taste, so to speak. But just like making love in general, the entire act is an art form and one that only gets better through practice.
So let me start at the beginning. I think I was a normal teenager, with the normal crushes, hopes, dreams, and I think the normal sexual experiences. I started dating in about 10th grade, had a steady boy friend by the following year. I lost my virginity the summer before my senior year which seemed pretty much on track, at least with the kids in my crowd. There was always plenty of talk about oral sex among the girls in our clique, who did what to whom and so on. What did it taste like, was it nasty, did he cum, how long did it take, and of course the big question, did you swallow? I was always very curious, but in all honesty, just a little nervous too. I wasn't sure about how you do it and the swallowing thing was a huge unknown.
My junior year boyfriend and I were hot and heavy for many months. My parents didn't really like him so that only made him more attractive to me. Ever since I was ten years old, my parents would send me off to church camp each summer for four weeks. That summer between my junior and senior year of high school my boyfriend somehow managed to get his parents to spring for the same camp so we could spend the month together. Our amorous scheme worked perfectly which allowed us to spend every possible minute together. And before the first weekend was out, my sweet little cherry was history.
It was very much the usual teenage thing; kissing, petting, necking for hours, exploring and of course, finally 'going all the way.' I was scared, but it really was very cool and I loved it. He got what he wanted and so did I. Now once school started again, I finally had something to add to the lunch table chatter.
The only thing we really never got around to was the oral sex part. I think he wanted to, but just somehow never got down to it (so to speak). And I wanted to, but I wasn't sure if it was polite for the girl to go first? I kept waiting for him to do me first and then I'd assume it was okay for me to return the favor. Well it just never happened. Not either that summer or during the next couple of months that we reminded a love interest.
After we broke up mid-way through the fall semester of my senior year, I really never had another steady boyfriend that year or the next summer. Other than just the usual necking on dates and the Senior Prom, I didn't have sex again until I went off to college.
Upon my arrival at college I did not consider myself a virgin, but since I'd really only been with one boy, I knew I wasn't really all that experienced either. I'd never lived away from home before and I was determined to live the life of a footloose and fancy free co-ed. I lived in the dorm of course, which was co-ed by floor, so it was a target-rich environment and I figured the end of my dry spell was only a party or two away.
I went thorough Rush and pledged a sorority like most of the freshman girls. I deliberately picked one where the girls looked like girls who knew how to have fun. And since I knew very little of the life of a full-blown adult, I figured that hooking up with girls that did would be my ticket to a safe and enjoyable college experience. I soon realized that I must have been a little more sheltered than I thought, so to make up for my late start, I attended every social mixer and set-out to met as many guys as possible.
About five weeks into the school year we were all invited to a huge party at a frat house that was well known for serious parties and somewhat of an 'anything goes' atmosphere. I looked forward to it all week and was actually planning on breaking my period of celibacy. So to be honest I went to the party planning on 'getting laid,' I just didn't plan on what happened next.
Things were going well for the first couple of hours and after five or six beers, I was hooked up with a pretty cool looking football player type guy. We necked on the stairs for a while as we waited for one of the bedrooms upstairs to become available. I guess I was a little drunk as I don't even remember moving from the stairs to this guy's room, but once up there, things began to change quickly to the rougher side. This wasn't exactly what I had in mind, but I was drunk and I had no one to blame for the situation, but myself. He was clearly going to 'get off' and he didn't really care what I wanted. I don't really remember all the details, but the basic gist of it was that I was going to suck his dick and there wasn't much I could do about it.
The first thing that scared me was that this guy was much bigger than my old boyfriend back home. His pecker was hard as a rock and looked a foot long (I later realized it wasn't, but it seemed that big at the time). He forced me to my knees and stood in front of me with his crotch right in my face. He held my hair tightly with one hand and with his other hand guided his cock into my mouth. Then using of his both hands, pushed and pulled my head back and forth until I started to gag. Just when I thought I was going to throw up, he started to cum and boy did he ever cum. I had no idea it was going to be like that. He pulled my head all the way into his crotch and held me there tightly. He seemed to cum in gushes and I thought I was going to die.
Tears welled up on my face and started streaming down my cheeks. I couldn't breath and I couldn't swallow. I just wanted out of there. But suddenly it was all over and he let go of my hair and my head. He pulled back and immediately started pulling up his pants. He never said a word and in less than a minute he was out of the room and back at the party downstairs. I didn't know what to do. I just sat there on my knees for a minute or two until I heard a knock at the door and someone asking if the room was available. I got up, put myself back together the best I could and ran from the house. I actually ran all the way back to the dorm and locked myself in my room for two days. Luckily my roommate was nowhere to be found, so I had the place to myself until Sunday night. When she came in I had pretty much calmed down and just never told her or anyone else about the whole experience.