I Shit You Not

Evening Lovers,

So I’m just going to jump straight into it tonight, no foreplay, no pre-heating the oven, we’re jamming this bad boy in balls deep on the first thrust. When I left you I was just about to confess why I hate to swallow. Well, here goes…

My first boyfriend, Charlie, well I didn’t even see his spring roll, let alone let it get anywhere near my mouth, so there was no problem in that relationship. Next up was Rick. (I’ll tell you about him later, total sex god but also total drug addict/dealer. Sigh, there’s always something isn’t there?) Now I got very very close to old Rick’s knobster, and that was where I originally fell in love with the blowjob. That feeling you get when a man surrenders all control over to you and becomes putty in your hands, (well all except one part of him. If that part feels like putty you might be doing it wrong.) is such a rush. Every time we had sex, which I must say was often, I jumped at the opportunity to head downstairs. Rick didn’t seem to mind too much either 😉 However, I never swallowed. Why? I think I was still very much an innocent. Sure I loved a dirty great cock in my mouth but swallow that icky stuff that came out the end? I think not sir. So Rick and I had the cum sock. Yes, you read right, the cum sock. It was blue with white stripes and it lived on the floor by the side of Rick’s bed. Now I’m not exactly sure why we never changed the sock or just used any article of clothing close at hand, but it became a sort of tradition. I would go down on Rick, he would bloody love it, the signal would sound ( a guttural cry of “I’m coming!”) and I would relax my mouth and let him spurt his love juice into my waiting cheeks. Then as soon as the last drop was extracted I would dive over the side of the bed for the cum sock and spit said love juice into the lucky sock.

Job done.
And this system worked fine. Until it didn’t. Rick and I were sleeping in one fine morning, well I say sleeping in, what I mean is we had had way to much beer and were in an alcohol induced stupor on a weekday morning. With a bolt and a cry Rick sat up in bed, clutching his head as he did so. We were late! Both of us scurried around the room, tossing on random pieces of clothing hoping they were on the right body part. The door slammed shut behind us as we ran to our cars, shoes in hand (that’s what traffic lights are for yes?) A quick kiss goodbye and we were driving away from each other at well over the speed limit.
I thought that was that, but it turned out in all that rush Rick had picked up a certain sock…

And he wore it all day!!!


But that’s not the reason I don’t swallow, no no that’s just background.

I had two more boyfriends before I decided to take the leap, or the gulp so to speak. I was dating a guy who I was certain was the one. If by the one I meant  the one guy I wish had taken a pair of scissors to his genitalia then yes I was right. However I was not to know this at the time and I floated on my blissful cloud of ignorance, planning our wedding and generally nesting. I decided because he was the one that it was time to get really serious. It was time to swallow.

Oh yeah.

So, I was downstairs doing my thing, and of course he was having a lovely time, when he did his own signal (every muscle in his body tensing) so I prepared myself. This was it. This was the moment. I was about to swallow some organisms, and by god I was going to like it! With a gasp he came, hot and hard in my waiting mouth. I shoved my head forward, pushing him to the back of my throat hoping gravity would do most of the work for me and just carry that shit down. It mostly worked, and after a quick drink of water I was right as rain. I got up, gave him a kiss and gave myself a massive pat on the back, which I passed off as a mozzy bite. I suppose it would have been nice if we could have savoured the moment, but I had a lunch to get to and he had, I dunno, boy stuff to go do, so we parted ways pretty much five minutes after.

I pulled on my skinny leg jeans, so excited to tell the girls about my own personal Everest, conquered in under five friction induced minutes. After a quick check in the mirror I headed for the door. As I grabbed my keys and unlocked the fly-screen I felt a fluff coming on. As I was alone I went the full leg cock and let her rip.

And she ripped all down my leg.

I screamed. I mean, what else can you do when you’ve just sharted in your skinny legs? I staggered to the shower, feeling the fraudulent fart sliding against my legs as I did so. No no no! How did this happen? How did a grown woman shit her pants when food poisoning wasn’t involved? I stepped into the shower fully clothed, too disgusted to take off my jeans without the safeguard of water. Obviously I wasn’t thinking clearly as everyone knows skinny leg jeans are almost impossible to get off once wet. (I remember shaking my head at the ignorance of two girls who took part in a lube wrestling competition with jeans on. What were they thinking?) However those girls didn’t have to deal with an exploding ass at the same time. In the end I had to sit on the shower floor and peel off my soiled jeans inch by inch, wails of disgust mirroring every movement.

Maybe this was a one off? Oh no, I experimented people. I blew and ran on three occasions. A quick bj in the car, a suck fest just before leaving his house and some fast fellatio in nature. I made sure I would be alone straight afterwards and I monitored all ass action.

And sadly, it looked like somehow, the girl who loved to give blow jobs, was allergic to sperm!

Try explaining that to prospective partners. Nobody ever believes it, trust me, and I’ve had to prove it on a few occasions.


Anyway Lovers I need a long hot soapy shower to cleanse myself of these memories! Next time I promise you’ll hear the morning after with Tim 😉

Claire xx

Special Edition Song (Just because it’s so wonderfully related to the topic. Next time someones got the runs, sing this ditty to them :))

When you’re sitting on the dunny and you’re feeling kinda funny



When you’re climbing up a tree and it’s running down your knee



When you’re sitting on a cushion and you’re feeling something squooshing



Enjoy that Lovers!


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