(Started writing this late Saturday night when I was super wired. Finishing it super sober on Sunday morning. Let’s see if this makes any sense. 😂)

At my ripe old age of 37 I think I’ve nailed exactly why I enjoy giving oral sex to men so very much. Honestly, “like” isn’t a suitable word. I obsess about giving oral sex to men. I love giving blowjobs. I give blowjobs more often than most women wash their hair. And I never tire of it.

I am learning that I love giving because the power dynamic goes back and forth as we share this sexy mutual experience. The power dynamic is in fact doing a dance of its own. And those shifts in the dynamic strike a chord deep within me that I’m only beginning to understand.

When I’m first getting to know a guy and the flirty banter is flowing, I hold all of the power. After all, I’m a woman. My pool of prospects is deeper than any man could possibly contemplate. That’s just how it is for women. My possibilities for finding a dick to suck > his opportunities to get his dick sucked. Always. So the power is mine.

Once the act begins, the power (I feel) is his. He sits in that chair doing nothing but enjoying himself. I kneel before him servicing him. That chair might as well be a throne. In that moment I feel submissive. I feel I am meant to be servicing him and pleasing him in that moment. The power is his.

As we go along, as it becomes clear he is closer to climaxing, the power returns to me. I’m in control of how quickly he cums. Or if I want to edge him, torture him by delaying his satisfaction. I get to decide how long this lasts.

But then, in a messy state of euphoria and frustration he may rise from that throne and stand before me. He takes the power back when he stops letting me do things my way and decides that my mouth is simply there for him to fuck. With each thrust, and each moment I am short on air, it becomes clear the power is again his.

Then it becomes a power struggle. He is fucking me in the mouth and putting himself deeper in my throat than seems legitimately possible while I look up at him with submissive but devilish eyes. I want that power back, though. I make it clear that he’s going to cum on my terms. He’s going to cum because I made it possible. I stop being submissive and take a more aggressive approach. I let one hand wander, taking a visit to the doorstep of the back door. I let my fingertips announce my presence but I don’t enter. I simply let him know I can and will enter that door if I so choose.

As we reach the finale, I have the power. I have the power to make him explode. I enjoy that power. It’s the ultimate aphrodisiac. I’ve experienced many thousands of times and each time is just as incredible as the last. He’s going to cum because I made it so.

But then, in a flash, he strips that power away. He gets to decide where he cums. He can fill my mouth, fluid bonding us in the most intimate way. Or he can pull out and cum on me. If he chooses my face, it’s an aggressive and dominant power move. It makes me feel submissive again. Kneeling before a man who has chosen to leave me heaving and messy. Either is fine with me so it’s his choice. And choice is power.

Post-blowjob, we return to reality and play the game again. Will we fuck? Depends if I want to fuck. Because, after all, I’m holding the power.