Not long ago, I published my first true story. It was called, “The Sluttiest Thing I Have Done,” and I enjoyed writing out a good memory. At Chez MC1982, something like the following conversation took place. My husband knows I write on this site and enjoys my stories.

Mr. MC1982: “MC1982, you really enjoyed writing that one, didn’t you?”

Blushing, I confirmed that I did, albeit not as much as the events themselves.

“You should write more true stories.”

Me: “Involving you?”

I suspect he is seeking literary immortality. He wants me to make him a Don Juan, or a Heathcliffe.

Mr. MC1982: “Sure. Or involving anyone, I don’t care.”

Mr. MC1982 is a major source of the male perspective in my stories, and he has confirmed that it is common for men to fantasize about their partners having sex with other guys. I don’t wholly understand this, but he assured me he was more than happy for me to share stories about him or my previous gentlemen of the night. He positively encouraged me, in fact.

Me: “Well, what should I write about?”

I am forty years old and have been married since 2015. By that time in life, even for a woman who has not been promiscuous, the number of sexual experiences you have had starts to add up. There is quite a bit of material to sift through. Luckily, advice was at hand from Mr. MC1982.

“You got the idea for the first true story from the forums. Why not answer questions you see on there?”

This, I thought, was an excellent idea. So, allow me to introduce my new series, “The Sexual Autobiography of MC1982”.

I am going to select questions I see on the lush forums that I can answer truthfully and confess some of my sexual exploits.

If you are hoping for gang bangs, watersports, or bukkake, I am pleased to disappoint you. At least in this series. I may yet write stories about those things, but they will be wholly imaginary. I did write a group sex story, in fact, ‘My World Cup Runneth Over’. But it was fiction and quite silly fiction at that.

I have, by the standards of the lush forums, led a relatively staid and boring sex life. To be honest, I sometimes see things on this site that make me feel very sheltered and naïve.

There are roughly four billion penises in the world. I have personal experience with only nine of them. I am not entirely sure if I regret this or not.

But I’ve had my naughty moments. Regular and valued readers of my work may have noticed that light BDSM, spanking, and oral sex are persistent themes in my stories. This is not coincidental. I am happy to say my husband shares my inclinations.

I decided to open this series with my own answer to the forum question,

“Women, do you really enjoy giving blowjobs?”

This is not a question like, “Do you like such and such a food?” or “Do dogs typically have four legs?”. Those questions can be answered with a yes or a no.

My history of penis-in-mouth action will tell you that the answer is strongly context-dependent.

I was eighteen when I first gave a guy the ice lolly treatment. It was a separate, later occasion from the momentous day when I, properly speaking, lost my virginity. That will be addressed in a future installment.

I…we…were at college. His name was Francesc, and he became my first real boyfriend. He was cool but studious too. Intelligence and the use of words are very attractive and seductive to me, and he had both. That and a slim body and a head that stood just above my height. We were in one of the same classes together. We flirted a lot. We began to hang out after lectures, as part of a group of friends. One day, he said,

“MC1982, tomorrow’s Saturday. Let’s go out into the city and explore a bit.”

I liked this guy. I accepted with alacrity.

We bought a day pass for the metro and took it by ear. We had a lot of laughs. We had a delicious tapas lunch. We ended up back at his dorm.

Entering the room, he kissed me. I kissed him back. He pulled me onto the bed. We made out for, I don’t know, fifteen or twenty minutes. I’d done enough kissing to have learned my moves by this stage, and Francesc could repay in kind. He was warm and gentle, and it felt lovely. Francesc went to the bathroom. I lay on the bed thinking about sex, thinking about him. I was young and horny and hot for him, make no mistake. I wanted to reel him in.

My first blowjob was very impulsive. I expect most are. It’s not the sort of thing you put in the weekly planner next to the hairdressers, is it? He emerged from the bathroom, drying his hands. I got up, and walked over to him. I looked him square in the eyes and gently placed my hand on his chest to say, “Stop”.

I crouched down and undid his trousers. Realising what I was doing, he began to grow hard at once. We didn’t know each other’s histories, but it was clear from his demeanor that he was sexually inexperienced, like me.  I pulled his trousers down, and he had black boxers on. They were bulging now. I pulled them down too, and I’m sorry to say I was a little rough doing this because he winced. His penis, the second I had seen in an intimate setting, was thicker than I’d expected, but there were no major shocks. It was neither a whale nor a shrimp. No going back now.

If you wish, you may want to picture us. Imagine me, five foot six, in shorts and a t-shirt, crouching so my head was at the height of his groin. My hair is blonde, worn straight and down to my shoulders and my eyes are blue.

I was fully blonde at the time, I should say. Alas, time is a cruel master, and the greys are infiltrating my hair nowadays. But, at the time, I was properly blonde. I looked up at him and smiled. He looked like he couldn’t believe this was happening, bless him.

Francesc’s dick was pretty firm already, and thirty seconds in the hands of your glorious narrator helped it along. Francesc took his T-shirt off. There is something weird about one person being basically naked and the other, me, fully dressed. But that was how it was.

I knew I just had to go for it. It was like getting onto a motorbike or jumping into the sea. Fear would hold you back if you let it. I did not. I gave his penis a kiss, then another one. I put it into my mouth and gave it my first suck. Mmm…not bad. Francesc’s tongue was loosened at once.

“Oh! Oh yeah!”

Some people are preternaturally confident. Some are not. Some of us worry (at least when we are young) that we are unattractive and boring and inept. Look at all those women with larger breasts, who are taller and prettier and wilder than you, MC1982. No man will pick you first. You’ll be chosen as the least bad option at best, and you should know your place at the bottom of the pecking order. That was how I saw myself. I was an insecure young woman, at least about my body. I knew I was smart. But I didn’t feel like an object of desire.

But when he began to vocalize his pleasure, I felt my confidence surge. He was enjoying my attention!

I learned the requisite strokes and rhythm. I explored and tested out questions I’d wondered about when imagining the act, like how far could it comfortably go in towards my throat? Should I use my teeth at all, not to bite, of course, but just to pinch gently? What, if anything, would it taste like? Well, Francesc’s was clean, so it didn’t taste gross, at least. My saliva glands were activating now, and Francesc’s penis was getting wet, and this made it easier to suck and, I found, more pleasant. A blowjob, I realized, got nicer and easier as it continued, for me as well as the recipient of my good offices.

I heard Francesc purr and moan and say things like,

“Oh, MC1982, oh yes, oh God, that’s amazing!”

And my main memory is the shot in the arm it gave me in terms of my sexual confidence.

I could be naughty and give a blowjob. My body could make a guy’s penis erect. I could make him come, make him moan. The gap between me and the girls who drifted from man to man, or who had a boyfriend and never seemed to sleep alone wasn’t so wide…

I was crouched, he was tousling my hair. His knees were trembling. It wasn’t unpleasant to suck, just different. I had to think about what to do with my tongue. I tried running it along the bottom of his cock. Not much reaction. I tried licking it with the tip of my tongue on the skinless end. Definite reaction. Ok, that is an early entry to my box of tricks.

It lasted somewhere between five and ten minutes. He didn’t come in my mouth, but he came in my hands. I had taken his penis out of my mouth, and shook it vigorously, my left hand jerking him off and my right massaging his glans when Francesc came explosively, all over the very hands that are typing these words. Afterward, it felt like all great Neptune’s oceans would not wash this cum from my hands.

Technically, we did not have sex that night, as we had no protection. But an hour later, with my breasts bare and my shorts around my knees and his fingers inside me, and my hands around his cock, the distinction was blurry, I admit.

So, I enjoyed giving my first blowjob, not for the sucking but because it made me feel hot and adult and desirable when I didn’t often feel that way. Sucking a banana would not have produced this effect.     

Do you want another example? You mean, you think I have sucked more than one penis on more than one occasion? What are you implying about my virtue? That is outrageous…

Ok.

In my mid-twenties, for two years, I was with a man who did not treat me well at all. At least, I realise this now. In my young naiveté, ‘in the fog of my emotional thinking’ (the term is HG Tudor’s), it was less clear. The memory of this individual can provoke both anger and disgust to this day. One thing he did was pressure me to give blowjobs, and refusal was met with cold fury and silent treatments. Sometimes, I’m sorry to say I agreed. He called me dirty as I blew him. I felt dirty as I did it. As he intended me to.

I did not enjoy giving blowjobs in those circumstances.

But I will end on a happy note, with a blowjob I did enjoy. And now, it is Mr. MC1982’s turn.

My husband and I are both big fans of oral sex. We enjoy the loving intimacy plus the fact we are both good at it plus the absence of pregnancy risk make it a staple in our household. He and I have a deal regarding blowjobs. If he satisfies me for the night and does not progress naturally to orgasm, he can choose how he wants to finish. He can wait to come inside me, we can use hands, or he can ask to have his dick sucked, and I will do so.

 Occasionally, though, Mr.MC1982 and I find that the mood takes us, and we schedule an oral night. First, he goes down on me. See my earlier micro story, “Oral Night” for how that went.

It is his turn. I pull down his red shorts. He is half erect, a sign he is ready, but also that he is no longer nineteen.

Perhaps only a woman who has been with villains but married a prince could kiss a penis like this. I kiss it lovingly, tenderly, as I am so, so grateful to be with him, not his predecessor. Now he is hard.

He writhes on his hips and bottom as I suck his dick. Occasionally, I switch from sucking to licking and kissing. I have learned that a strict no-use-of-hands policy prolongs the experience, should we wish to do so. This I grant him, although he must keep his hands behind his head so as to refrain from grabbing it himself.

He has permission to come in my mouth, but, today, he does not. On the point of orgasm, he can no longer help himself, he reaches down and jerks himself to closure. His sperm dies on his belly instead.

We embrace, both glad we scheduled oral night.

Does MC1982 enjoy giving blowjobs? I do, now I’ve found the right man to give them to.