It sucks to be me

I'm not a fan of blowjobs. I've always been open about that. I don't dislike them - I mean, who would? - but out of preference, I'd give oral sex rather than receive. Although, of course, both is the best option, after all. In porn, they are everywhere, and from my experience, with very limited amounts of cunnilingus, while fellatio takes preference in terms of screentime and prominence. This annoys me (and is the reason, essentially, why I don't watch a lot of hardcore - although there are other reasons too). But normally, I don't hanker for a blowjob. Not usually. I like getting them, but they're not something I crave. I'd rather be inside other parts of a girl's anatomy than her mouth.

However, this morning I was suddenly overcome with a desire to receive oral sex that was more potent than that desire has ever been before. To further complicate this situation, I was sitting in the Job Centre at the time, and there was no rhyme or reason - no trigger, even - as to why I would suddenly want to be sucked off. I just, you know, did.

Out of the girls who have given me blowjobs - seven, if I recall correctly - cutieloveheartgirl's are the best, thanks to her enthusiasm for the task at hand, bordering on obsession, and the sensitivity of the parts of my cock she likes to suck. And therefore I've been experiencing the best oral sex of my life recently, and that's warmed me to it all the more over the past few weeks (although I've still never reached orgasm through oral stimulation, but that doesn't have to be the aim!), and I think the random fish through my memories, plus the fact that there was a delay at the Job Centre and I was sitting there for an interminably long time...

...plus, the fact that I've been incredibly tired all day and needed some form of relief...

...arose the want to receive oral gratification in me. It's subsided now (although I wouldn't say no, ever, anywhere), but it would have been the best way to pass the waiting time that I could think of, right there and then. And so... I thought.

Let me know...

It's nice to feel wanted, to feel cared for, to feel loved. But it's also nice to feel needed. Evidently, I don't want people to feel like they can't cope all the time. But it's nice, in an admittedly ego-maniacal way, to think - or rather, to be told, that someone, somewhere - someone who you feel you need - needs you too. Those little phrases you pick up from people that they may say casually, or directly, to you, that make you feel good about yourself.

I began to feel that with Rebecca pretty much immediately after we started going out - as she had a mad crush on me. This had never, ever happened before, and I was liking it with an almost indecent enthusiasm. Her phrases, hints, and suggestions to me - that she'd miss college to be with me, or that she could never live without me - were in almost direct opposition to her repeated indiscretions, but I quite liked it when she said that stuff. And I sacrificed a lot for her, as well, to prove that I reciprocated. Although in fairness, when she dumped me, I'd known it was coming for a while - as I'd worked out she was cheating; a few contributing factors led to this, but none as much as the fact that she stopped saying that stuff.

TD's philosophy on life was different - she didn't like the whole idea that someone would have to make your life better for you, you have to do it yourself - but she did have the momentary blip when she slipped and admitted she wanted me - in order to cope, perhaps? I was a terrible repeat offender, missing her over and over and over again and telling her so. And there were times when I absolutely needed her. Of course there were. And there are times when she needed me. But in this case, it was her actions, rather than her words, that let me know this. Certainly she said things - influenced in part by people telling her not to get tied down to one man, and so on and so forth - but she did other things, like coming to see me a mere one hour after I got back from a week-long Woodcraft Camp, which let me know she wanted me.

I haven't felt that way for a while. And then yesterday, I got this text:

I imagined I was grabbing it and you were fucking me as I masturbated this morning.

And a little spark ignited in my stomach, and felt good about itself once again.