Girls who have been on Tinder since 18, apparently, become blowjob professionals by 21, did you know? TikTok females this last summer showed me the “Glug-Glug 9000.”
*Update- It’s actually called ‘The Gluck-Gluck 9000‘ and it’s an episode on the “Call Her Daddy” podcast.* Google it for more details.
You need a king-sized cock, 1st of all, but it’s in summary: it’s a technique where the bottom hand twists across -side to side- while the top hand goes up and down the shaft to your mouth, while you suck.
^I was very excited to show C.J this newfound discovery, moments after I heard of this.
I’ve seen this man a handful of times in the last couple of years, but never impressed him with oral given his share of casual dating app partners…
In the beginning- I wasn’t even allowed to suck his dick due to medical reasons, and that’s what I want to tell you about today actually. The start of it all.
August 26th, 2020, after 6 months of quarantine I went down to Pennsylvania last.
I recall watching CJ’s eyes go cold when I looked up at him eager- mid blowjob.
This must be the last time I will ever allow myself to be humiliated. Maybe he just needed a way to ‘make me’ let go of him is what I ask myself?
He knows what he’s doing to me. How could he not(?)
I was pleasuring his thick dick with my mouth when I heard him ‘encourage me’- with fake breathlessness- he said “Yea…Suck that cock, that’s right…”
When I looked up at him, excited to get his dominance possibly revved, I watched him look at his phone. I craved his energy. I wanted him to challenge my breathing…
…but instead he was holding his phone 2ft directly above my head in his lap- not recording us or anything- while he half spoke to me careless… Who had his attention at this very moment?
Rewind to the time before last- he jumped up and opened Snapchat within 15 seconds of my lips off his cock… I was still tasting him from bursting inside my throat, when he purposely opened his phone and set it down quickly right in front of me to observe still lit up. He made wide-eyed eye contact with me while I tried to look away and pretend ‘I didn’t see’.
How did we get to this point babe?- I silently cry, and wonder, all the way home afterwards.
——————————————————————
I was 21 going on 22 when I first encountered C.J’s everything in the autumn of 2013. Being so young and hating the only sex I’ve ever known… I was eager for his attention and care.
Disclaimer: I didn’t want to be ‘friends with benefits’ from the start… but I knew it was the only way I would be allowed time with him at this place 1 on 1. It was his rules from the beginning.
I made a mistake thou, that will cost me a lifetime of pleasure the first time I ever looked at his dick in late 2013.
In 2013, C.J was a Playboy with a flirty reputation, and I was a young naive girl who was a part time stripper for the wrong reasons, living with a young man’s parents who didn’t mind taking care of me in exchange for giving their closeted son ‘his first girlfriend.’
I wanted to be C. J’s Playgirl even thou I wasn’t qualified… I couldn’t look away from his eyes, since the moment we first met during daytime hours.
He was special, and so was I- that’s all I knew for sure, before getting to know him a little bit.
I also knew he had been thru a lot somehow… Co-workers gossiped about his ‘crazy ex’s,’ online dating profiles, and the drug of choice after-hours… Scandalous he was- how exciting I found it.
The night I sacrificed the chance to hold his heart forever thou- haunts me now in 2020. The night I ‘lost the right’ to his endless love makes me sick.
^Perhaps after writing about this experience I’ll have come to acceptance with everything. I also don’t want others ladies to make my mistake is all.
________________________________
Before explaining what happened in C.J’s apartment for the first time- let’s confirm the kinda-gay ‘boyfriend’ detail. I was a tired stripper that used dancing ‘as an excuse’ to not touch this boy. The romance was dead and fake between us- before I met C.J.
^Me and the now Ex were just kids when we met. Both 19, working in a dead end grocery store by the ocean. (I was transferred there, but he was shoreline raised.)
He told me he was virgin, but 1 year into the relationship he told me that he actually meant to say “he was a virgin with girls.”
He had a gay best friend that gave him blowjobs consistently during the last 2 years of high school apparently…
He needed to confess ‘their actions,’ because he also wished I could be “open” to letting them mess around, since I was starting to strip for work and refusing sex.
His mother being a sex therapist saw nothing wrong with this. (??)
He even fucked lover-boy’s ass apparently, and I didn’t even know… The moment I found all this out I never touched that dick willingly again because it was no longer “mine.”
It didn’t matter boy or girl. The trust was broken, as he expressed desire for an ‘open relationship,’ which was “my fault” for zero sex drive/will/passion. No thanks.
I bought him a pocket pussy sex toy- and asked him to masturbate with that, instead of using me, for the remainder of our relationship.
We were just smoking/living ‘partners,’ when I went chasing after C.J.
However, Mr. ‘high school bestie’ also had quite a hobby of also chasing straight men. He liked to brag that straight men had sex with him. It somehow thrilled him…
One night while bong hitting, I asked the ex- ‘If he had an opinion on C.J’, I also asked ‘what he knew about him?’ besides the obvious employment title…
I set the tone that I was hinting to “having an interest” with him, even thou I clearly already did WEEKS before asking this question.
Ex quickly mentioned that C.J was just another name on gay bestie’s ‘straight men hookup list’. He said it was more than just oral. They ass-fucked too. That it was probably secret too, as that was “best friend secret privileges.”
I was shook and needed to hear this from C.J. himself, but I didn’t know how to ask about something so taboo. I had never been in a position before to confront someone about a sex rumor.
I also had never seen a “grow-er” dick, vs “show-er.”
The ex, and my high school boyfriend/sweetheart both had banana dicks. About 5 or 6 inches, with a curve, that went back up to their bellybuttons.
In the club lap dance area, or VIP area, men were always already extremely edged and begging for me to interact with their dicks. Any well-paid peek/touch at a cock and it was between 3-6 inches already hard. The sex work stopped there due to my trauma.
Porn also shows the bigger dicks also already “fluffed” and “hard.”
C.J was proud to say he had a 8 inch cock. Maybe 8 and a half if measured from the balls. It was his “lure.” It stroked his ego to say that, and/or getting to be a contact name in somebody’s phone incognito. He once half-bragged how girls in relationships had him labeled as not C.J.
I say ‘half-bragged,’ because he was also at the same time expressing how “it’s always just about good sex.” “Great Sex” and nothing more… with everyone. ‘Same thing. Different bitch.’
I remember scanning his eyes during this conversation and feeling his pain when it came to “not having soul connections” with others.
I might not have had dating experience so young, but I had seen 100s of men in the strip club. All of them having ZERO stand out quality to me.
All of them wanting ‘more than a lap dance’, but I never cared to pursue anybody. I was also never ‘bought.’
*Before C.J there was 1 co-worker I lusted over at the grocery store being 17, then 18, I was.
I lost my ‘pussy virginity’ to him in my mind, but that’s a lie, because I actually ‘tried porn’ the week prior to open my pussy for him. There were condoms, and my childhood pet had passed. The vet bill used my ‘security move-in money’ for my first apartment with the check already written.
Details with the missed lawsuit opportunity with “GirlsDoPorn,” here.
Circling back to my actual first sex attempt- my vagina felt ‘100% shut’ with my high school bf unable to penetrate it- the summer before my senior year of high school.
Having said all of that: I never knew of a cock that needed to “grow” before being of ‘full size.’
_______________________________________
After sharing a cannabis bowl (or two) together, it was time to see my first real big dick with C.J.
High in his bed, in his apartment, I uncovered maybe 4 to 5 inches when I put my face in front of his boxers for a look. I remember bringing my body back up to sitting position in immediate shock.
My potential soulmate was ‘TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE’- I quickly figured.
I was shocked because I thought he was ‘tricking’ me!?! Maybe I was ‘just another name’ he could add to some sick list of girls he “stole” for a night. My imagination couldn’t slow down.
I didn’t hear a “wait there’s more,” or “it’s not full size yet,” because he was busy smirking, and observing me silently. Oblivious to my silent high mental meltdown.
He couldn’t just ask me for a blowjob either to prove himself, because I had actually gotten my wisdom teeth removed about 10 weeks prior. They grew in sideways, and due to the impact- an oral surgeon had to remove a smidge of my jawbone to get them out.
I couldn’t open my mouth to make a full O shape yet while still healing. Only -fucking- me. My jaw was literally stuck after parting my lips a fraction of the space needed for giving head.
So, I jumped to conclusions faster than lightening, and thought his dick was average. “Too good to be true,” I heard in my head over and over again.
NOBODY TOLD ME ‘TOUCH IT MORE’. I didn’t have Tinder secrets or TikTok tricks or a guidebook for “good dick.” All I knew was bad dick, micro dick, or desperate-boy strip club dick!
I didn’t know how this worked.
I simply felt betrayed, and that was it. I thought I “knew it all” thanks to the strip club, or basic free porn found online. Porn that I barely watched anyway due to being lightly traumatized with my ‘rape tape’ porn-trial encounter.
I let myself instantly believe that I was “being lied too,” and my sex drive immediately shut down. I didn’t want to ‘hook-up’ anymore. Perhaps it was the THC, but I didn’t know how to communicate in a healthy manner.
I was ‘joke’ to him, ‘not to be taken serious’, and I was so upset and falsely disappointed.
Instead of just asking, “Where the rest of the cock was(??),” I of course remembered I had another question! Cuz, oh yea, I needed to know if this dick was ‘bi-sexual’. Forget the lack of cock for a minute.
Nothing made sense suddenly. Somebody was lying now. Was it the gay boy bestie, my ex, or C.J?
^After all seems like C.J already ‘lied’ about having the “biggest, best dick out there-” little did young me know.
I quickly learned in the strip club that when you needed a moment to think, or ‘be excused’, you did so with your phone. I had learned that I could store my # in my own phone contacts and label it as anybody I wanted.
(Seems not morally different than other people living out “hook up culture,” falsely labeling their “not C.Js“)
Therefore, if I texted myself, it would come up 1 second later labeled in my text inbox as whoever.
This was a devious, common escape route to telling men that I had to leave, when sitting at the strip bar too long.
It was more of a primary defense mechanism, vs ‘deceit’- I’d like to think- looking back.
If feeling trapped outside in the ‘smoking area’ or pressured to ‘go home with someone’ who spent $$$ on me, I could quickly pretend “my man” was needing me home.
I had learned how to text myself as my pretend significant other like it was no big deal.
Being a stripper, I was allowed to play ‘make believe’, but in the real world that’s called lying.
So guess what? Since I thought C.J lied to me 1st, it was now time to text myself as gay boyfriend at home “wondering where I was.”
It was time to dismiss myself from disappointing sex I had reasoned silently to myself UNDER FALSE ASSUMPTIONS NOT KNOWING ANY BETTER. I was hurt, and confused.
I texted myself something crazy along the lines of “Oh, you’re with C.J, really? WOW. Whatever. have fun, but just remember he’s also been with *insert gay best friend name here*”
When I read it out loud to turn the tables on C.J- he now suddenly felt lied too. The first rule was “not to tell anybody,” I was at his apartment.
I tried playing it off like my ex and I were “fighting,” and that’s why it was ‘okay to tell him where I was.’
I wanted to focus on C.J answering the question I had, but C.J wanted to focus on me breaking the agreement he had.
I was now “the liar” even though I would never break the agreement, and tell people our business!
Nobody knew I was there as he wished, but it was too late. He thought I exposed us -‘just another dumb bitch, no different than the rest’
My special cock opportunity, that I actually wanted for once, was out the fucking window, and so was C.J’s hope of me being love-material. It was now time for him to dismiss me.
‘GET OUT‘- he said coldly.
“What?“- said me not understanding that we couldn’t just ‘talk’ about this.
“GET OUT OF MY ROOM- I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN“- he was now shouting, but in a controlled volume.
His tone of voice was so chilling- filled with hushed rage.
Realizing I had just fucked up big time- I needed to say “Just kidding- Calm Down“… but how?
I then showed my phone and remember shaking mildly, to explain that ‘our secret was safe’ and that nobody knew I was there.
“I texted myself because– blah blah blah- Welcome to CrazyTown” is all he heard.
‘Sorry about that.‘ and ‘you can trust me still‘ was all I remember thinking and saying over and over again… he still asked me to leave thou.
When he walked me outside exhausted by the ‘mind-fuck’ of what had just unexpectedly, out of left field, happened- I remember touching his face and asking him to trust me.
______________________________
It was that moment on I reckon… that I ‘earned’ my lifelong punishment of crying rivers. It was from that moment on that I couldn’t undo the damage. The trust was broken.
He subconsciously pushed away any feelings he could have had for me- for life perhaps- and I understand why.
‘What a mind fuck‘ he said- even thou it’s me who has been ‘mind-fucked’ screaming and crying and begging for this man to take me home to Pennsylvania almost a decade now…
How could I not just have a couple calm mature conversations with him, instead of bringing ‘manipulate power moves’ into the mix??
The moral of this story is ‘don’t lie and then expect to ‘win back’ the right to be trusted… soulmates don’t lie to each other.
Love is honesty, and I will honesty never regret anything more in my life than my actions that night.
————————————————————-
When I eventually found myself gravitated to C.J’s sex, given his dominate aura thou, I do recall the 2nd time in his bedroom.
When his cock ‘sprung to life’ in front of my face during our 1st ‘successful’ hookup, it was the surprise of a lifetime…
I remember being so shocked at it, and excited, that I tried to ‘stretch my broken jaw’ as much as I could for it… I was so eager to swallow all of him proudly…
I remember pushing my mouth open with my hands as much as I could anytime I was in the shower to “stretch for him”. Mind in the gutter…
I was so eager to suck and choke on greatness I had never known. Especially that of a man who I felt so enchanted by… so spiritually at home with.
I couldn’t eat a sushi roll or bite a burger while my jawbone needed to grow back (science says that it can only happen- if young enough- which I was)… but I just wanted his thick big dick so bad.
Banana dick blowjobs are the worst and I only had memories of awkward oral.
…The 3rd time I saw C.J. in his bedroom- I had actually earned myself a trip to the oral surgeon prior…
^The combination of yawning too much for face exercise + snacking on popcorn at work I had accidently bothered the healing process of removed gum tissue. Oops.
“Dry socket” of sorts. I was banned from swallowing cock for some weeks’ time while healing, LOL.
———————————————-
C.J was different and superior from the start… If only I let myself trust him and ask questions calmly -instead of fear the worst by habit.
I’d worship that cock the rest of my life if I could… I’d say sorry, and get on my knees every morning and/or night for that man- if he ever just listened to me.
I’d pay back my past horror tenfold and enjoy every blowjob. I just want to erase all the bad memories that are now a decade behind me, with nothing but enjoyable superior godly sex for the future.
Instead thou, I sacrifice my desire. All I have are my dreams. Our kisses that don’t exist, but they wake me up out of deep sleep anytime I almost imagine one. I wish I could be the last girl he’d ever kiss.
——————————————–
I identity as a mermaid because I have a theory that : to be deemed an angel or goddess after years of repent, I believe you have to suffer hard as well.
Angels with broken wings can’t fly, but the chosen ones can swim.
You have to cry a river and swim in that fucking river.
You can’t cry under water either, but you can sing under water. My truth will be set free thru music soon enough Id like to think.
I tattooed music notes on me in 2016, when I first formed this fucked up ‘passion reward’ theory.
To suffer hells that you did and/or didn’t ask for- sometimes you’re banished to the waters of solitude while you grow. Mermaids sing their way back to heaven.
A fallen angel would be the devil’s orgin story, but landing in water, there’s a second chance. I’m a good girl and meant to be angelic. It was never my intention to “cause hell.”
I have a great talent for creating difficult situations.
My Chaturbate username was almost ‘Underthe_C’ , because until I fulfill all that I’ve been chosen to do in this life I continue to suffer ‘under the sea’ 200 miles away from C.J.
I suffer alone. I grieve a love I can’t have. I sing-cry songs home alone nobody can hear.. I’m his siren, his angel, God made just for him, but I’ve been misunderstood and left behind…
I’m under C.J while my writings and videos have taken too long, but one day I’ll be the woman he could of proud of, if he wanted to.
Since day one, I was naturally attracted to this man that I trust to lead- even as an alpha female.
I’m forever grateful we were Godsent to each other, guided by the stars, even if it’s time to say goodbye soon.
The right person at the wrong time? Twin Flame theory?
Soul Mirrors we are, regardless.
When I look in the mirror a certain way I see his eyes, his eyebrow intensity.
I sound insane, but ‘the part of me that’s him, will never die.” Que Lady Gaga’s “I’ll Always Remember Us This Way”
My true love for this man will never die, even thou I may just be slowly dying from years of tears, and years of holding back my full divine feminine goddess potential.
The End.
