BRRRRING!
Hello?
Good evening, I’m calling from Paradigm Market Research Services. Would you have a few minutes to answer some questions?
…Sure, I guess so.
Thank you so much, Ma’am – or do you prefer Ms?
“Ms.” would be good, thank you.
Thank you, Ms., this shouldn’t take very long. So, first, what is your occupation?
I teach in the Social Science Faculty at Chandling University.
And do you live in a house, condo, apartment, or other residence?
I own a condominium unit.
How many people reside there?
What do you mean by “reside”?
How many people live there?
Well that’s my point. What counts as “living here”? I’m here almost every night, so there’s me, but Max stays here when he’s in town. So he lives here then, but not most of the time. Does that count?
Is Max your sexual partner?
I beg your pardon?
Is Max your sexual partner? Does he sleep in your room, or in a separate room?
Oh, um, yes, Max sleeps with me when he’s here. And we have entertaining conversations on the phone when he is not.
And is he your only sexual partner?
…
You mentioned that you slept in your condo “almost” every night, so I was trying to determine what would take you elsewhere.
Who did you say you worked for again?
…Paradyne Marketing Services.
Yes, Max is my only sexual partner.
Currently?
Currently.
And how many sexual partners have you had?
…What kind of question is that?
It’s a scripted conversation, Ms.
No, I understand that, but it’s a poorly-constructed question – it’s ill-defined and it’s purely summative. A summative question is too crude.
I’m sorry?
Well, what I mean is, if all you get is a total number, that might be quite misleading. For instance, ask me how many sexual partners I had up until the end of my third year of university.
Um…
Go on, you ought to be able diverge from your script for good reason.
I suppose I could enter it in the comments section.
There you go! So ask me.
How many sexual partners did you have in your third year of university?
No, “until the end of”.
How many sexual partners did you have until the end of your third year of university?
One. Now ask how many sexual partners I have had from the start of graduate school till now.
How many sexual partners did you have from the start of graduate school until now.
Three. Including Max. Now ask –
Yes, I get it. How many sexual partners have you had in your entire life, including the year between third year and graduate school?
Four.
What!? But…so why did you make me split it up that way? Did you just want to say you didn’t have sex with anybody in your fourth year?
That would be a useful finding not revealed by your summative question, wouldn’t it?
I…guess. But it doesn’t seem all that surprising a fact. You spent, what, something like eight months not in a relationship? I thought you were going to reveal that you had some really large number of sexual partners that year.
Well, that points to the other big problem in your question.
Which is?
That your question is ill-defined.
…Because “sexual partner” could mean various things?
Exactly! You didn’t define it, so I answered as though “sexual partner” meant “person with whom you have had penetrative vaginal intercourse”, but you quite plausibly might mean lots of other things. I could be bisexual for all you know.
Are you bisexual?
No, but that’s an important variable you ought to have excluded.
What about anal sex?
What about it? Have I had it? With how many partners? When?
Yes, all of those. I’ll enter it in the comments section.
Yes I have had it. Only with Max. When he stays here and is my sexual partner. Most recently the last time he was here, which was unfortunately almost a month ago.
And did you enjoy it?
That time and every time, as I explained to him at some length in a recent telephone call, thank you for asking.
Oral sex?
It doesn’t become a proper question just because you raise your voice at the end.
How many sexual partners have you had, including “people you have had oral sex with” as part of “sexual partner”?
Performed by me or on me?
I think “with” pretty clearly implies either one will do.
That is still a purely summative question. Didn’t you learn anything?
…Including “people you had oral sex with” as part of “sexual partner”, how many sexual partners did you have up until the end of your third year of university?
There you go! Two.
So you had oral sex with someone you did not have vaginal sex with before the end of third year…was that before or after?
Was what before or after?
You buca escort mean that you went down on someone who you never otherwise had sex with, and I’m guessing that that was probably your first boyfriend, then you had sex with your next boyfriend. What I mean is you were willing to suck off your first boyfriend, but not sleep with him.
You should not make assumptions. But to answer your implied question, yes, that’s correct, I had oral sex with my high school boyfriend but never vaginal sex. Or anal, as we’ve already covered.
Ok. Now, including “people you had oral sex with” as part of “sexual partner”, how many sexual partners have you had since starting grad school?
Three.
Including Max?
Including Max. Both “by me” and “on me”. He’s very good at it.
Ok, and including “people you had oral sex with” as part of “sexual partner”, how many sexual partners have you had in your entire life?
…
Ms.?
…
Ms.?
I’m counting.
…
…about thirty?
Thirty!!??
Now you see why you shouldn’t just ask summative questions. If you just had that number you’d be making all sorts of inaccurate assumptions about the kind of person I am, rather than recognising that you have information about the kind of person I was for a relatively short period of time.
Thirty??
You’re not looking at the data in context. Look, here’s how it began. I was not long out of the relationship I had been in for nearly three years when I went to Bermuda to visit a friend of mine. It’s an “everybody knows everybody” kind of place, and so we started hanging out at clubs with some friends of hers, and in that group there was one guy I started dancing with quite a lot. One night he and I found ourselves walking alone on the beach, and then we found our lips on one another’s, and our hands on each other, and after a little while I found my knees getting sandy and my mouth …well, you get the idea. And it was hugely satisfying! And just as satisfying the next night – and the night after. It was an eye-opener for me, you see.
Because you found out you liked sucking cock?
No, no, I already knew that. What I found out was that sex outside of commitment could, for me, in some circumstances, be empowering. I liked Jacobi, he was very nice and a lot of fun, but I had no illusions that there was anything going on between us which would outlast my vacation – and that was ok. I did it just because I wanted to.
Which is why you sucked off thirty guys?
You see, now you’re presuming again! You very clearly said that either “by me” or “on me” counted towards the total.
So you didn’t suck off thirty guys? Some of these partners went down on you?
Well…no. I mean, yes, strictly I did perform oral sex on all of them and I didn’t let any of them, um, go down on me. My point is that you shouldn’t have assumed that, you should have checked. And…it’s probably over thirty. In fourth year. I think I forgot a weekend when I was estimating earlier. So maybe about three dozen in total?
You forgot a weekend and that adds six more!? How could you forget a weekend like that?
Oh, surely that’s obvious?
…You were drunk?
What!? No, no, not at all – I was perfectly sober throughout all this. It’s not that I never drank, sure, but that’s not relevant. That’s not why I forgot one of the music festival weekends.
Ahh. “One” of them – it’s not that you forgot sucking six cocks in a weekend, it’s that you forgot how many times you sucked six cocks in a weekend.
Yes, exactly – though I’m not saying it was always six, or anything like that. I’m approximating, you understand.
Because you can’t remember every cock you’ve sucked.
No, no, of course not. Oh, and now you’re judging again! This is the trouble with scripted questions which don’t allow for elaboration.
Please, elaborate.
You can enter it in the comments section?
…Sure.
Well, the week with Jacobi had opened my eyes –
And your mouth.
Do you want me to answer your questions or not? We are already well beyond the “few minutes” to which I committed.
Sorry, carry on.
…Ok, you’re not wrong, actually. The week with Jacobi did make me think about opening my mouth, I guess – certainly it was in my thoughts much more often! It was quite distracting, at restaurants, or at my summer job, constantly wondering how the guys I was interacting with would feel in my mouth. But I didn’t do anything about that till the next term, when I found Paul.
Paul?
It started in the very first week of term – we’d found him wandering campus, quite intoxicated, during Frosh Week. For a couple of years my friends and I had made a habit of seeing to it that drunk frosh got safely back to their rooms, mostly the girls, but sometimes buca escort bayan guys. Paul was one of those, and we took him back to his residence. That was it, then, but he was pretty cute, and I couldn’t help but think that he looked, well, tasty, and the thought of what I could do if I chose kept coming into my mind. A couple of days later I happened to be passing his residence on the way home from class, so I went in the building, and there he was in his room. He recognised me, which I was not expecting, and he was pretty sheepish about the whole thing, very embarrassed, which just made him all the more adorable. It was when he called me his “guardian angel” that I decided this was definitely happening!
So this is where we get to number two of thirty-six?
Well…yes. I asked him how he was feeling now, and he said “pretty good” and I said “let’s try for very good, shall we”, which just made him look confused – until I stepped inside his room and shut the door. I could see his mind racing, probably thinking that he hoped he knew what I meant but couldn’t believe it! I walked across the room to him, and as he started to stand up I just said “nuh-uh-uh!” and put a hand on his chest, and he sat back down, his face still a combination of doubt and hope. I didn’t see his face a whole lot after that, because I knelt between his legs and started undoing his jeans – his zipper was already straining because of his erection. I pulled his jeans and underwear down a little, freeing him up, then I looked back up at him and he just looked wonderstruck – I felt immensely powerful! And then I smiled, leaned down, and enveloped about half his erection in my mouth all at once.
Hnn!!
Yes, that was more or less what he said. And you know, although I hadn’t decided for sure that I was going to do it, I had given quite a lot of thought to what I’d say if I did it. So I said – I still remember this, it was so much fun – I said “you know, I have – *sshlup shlupp* – a rule for – *sshlup shlupp* – situations like this” and then I started really trying to make him ejaculate, which hardly took any time, and when he seemed just about to, I pulled my mouth off, looked up at him, and said “I only swallow someone’s cum if I know his name”. He practically yelled “PAUL! It’s Paul!” and I plunged my mouth back down and seconds later I had a very big mouthful to deal with. And so of course I looked up at him, and smiled – and I swallowed. Because he had told me his name.
Fuck! Did you actually have that rule?
Ha! Well, it was consistent with all the data points until then, since I knew the names of my two boyfriends and Jacobi. Now, I know you’re probably thinking of that as very slatternly, but what I felt – what I still feel – is that it reflected me as an empowered sexual agent. I was only a couple of years older than him, but that made me feel sophisticated and worldly. It felt, in some way, like a first time. His was the fourth penis I had had in my mouth, had had finish in my mouth, but it felt like a first time. So I felt like I was glowing as I stood up, smiled at him, said “nice seeing you again, Paul” – and left. It was an almost-perfect experience, really, I have only the tiniest small regret about it, once of those “l’esprit de l’escalier” moments.
And what was that?
It didn’t even occur to me at the time that he still didn’t know my name. Actually, that just made it better for me. When he did realise that, the second or third time, I made a joke of refusing to tell him, and even though he eventually did find out, I still pretended never to acknowledge that he was right. Later – much too much later – it occurred to me that it would have been just perfect if, that first time, he had asked my name as I was leaving, and I had turned at the doorway and said “you can call me angel”. That would have been so good, don’t you think?
I see that, yes, but I admit I was more intrigued by your casual mention of the “second or third time”. You sucked him off more than once, obviously.
Oh my gods, so many times! I was so excited by the experience I wanted to go back later that night, and the next day, and the day after! But I made myself wait – two weeks I think it was, because it was after class again, walking past his residence, and luckily he was there alone in his room again, and his face lit up. I just put my finger to my lips, shut his door, and other than the dialogue it was a repeat of the first time, swoop in, have him, leave. I really wanted to be this phantasm that would just appear from time to time to swallow his semen and then disappear.
Hnn!
Are you sure you are writing all this down in the comments section? You sound preoccupied. In any event, my visits became a regular thing. I still had some inhibitions, after all, but also the same fantasies, and with Paul there was no risk. Dropping in after class every escort buca week just became part of my routine, and of course he came to know when I was going to show up. Much as I wanted to be entirely mysterious, it became impossible, especially after he started lasting longer, not to engage in some conversation. He turned out to be a fine arts student – he gave me that sketch of a bird I have on the shelf near my desk, I still smile to myself sometimes looking at it. Still, I did my best to keep some mystique, to remain an apparition that appeared to satisfy herself, and him, and then disappear.
So how did you end up sucking thirty-six cocks? Worked your way through his dorm? Had him invite friends over? Put a sign-up sheet on his door?
No, no, of course not. As empowered as I felt, we live in a Madonna and whore society, and I certainly wasn’t looking to be seen as the girl giving out free blowjobs. I never explicitly asked Paul to keep it quiet, and I’m sure the guys in his dorm must have noticed me and realised more or less what was going on – it went on all year, after all – but I wasn’t advertising the fact. But weeks of having fun with Paul did not make me stop fantasizing about going down on various guys that I met – if anything it made me fantasize more. Still, I didn’t have a plan. The next one just kind of happened, but I guess then that became a plan.
A plan that led to you sucking off thirty-four other guys? Apparently there are thirty-four more, since you’ve only mentioned two so far.
Oh good, you are keeping accurate notes – but remember that’s an approximate number. Not that I’m going to tell you about all the others individually – I couldn’t if I wanted to. Fortunately they fall into a couple of particular patterns, so I can give you a sense of them. I don’t recall the next guy’s name, to be honest –
Does that mean you didn’t swallow his cum?
Ha! Very funny. As far as names go, my stated rule turned out to be an early correlation in the data which was not entirely borne out on further experimentation. Well, no, that might not be true. I expect all of them told me their names, I just don’t remember them now. I’m sure I must have known the next fellow’s name at the time, for instance.
It is important to keep some standards.
Aren’t you just supposed to be asking questions, not passing judgment? I was at a party, and about a half a dozen of us ended up sitting on the back deck talking. Let’s call him “party-guy” – party-guy and I ended up being the last two out there, and he seemed like a nice guy, and, well, I’d been fantasizing for weeks, and it just seemed like an opportunity I shouldn’t pass up. We were sitting on the stairs, and I moved over to lean against his legs. It didn’t take terribly long from there – he started stroking my hair, I said how nice that felt and stroked his leg, he said how nice that felt, and it was a pretty natural progression, in only a little bit of time, for my hand to slide further up his leg and into his pants, to pull out his cock, and to put it in my mouth. He lasted longer than Paul had, but after a bit of very pleasurable time with hands, lips and tongue, I tasted my fifth different sample of sperm. I loved it! He did ask for my number, but I just told him we were bound to run into one another again.
You should have said “call me angel”.
Ha! That hadn’t occurred to me by then – but it wouldn’t have been nearly so apropos in any case. Still, my experience with party-guy became a model for me, as I realised that I could probably do pretty much the same thing again. It was a university town, there were lots of parties and dances, and after party-guy I decided I wanted to suck as many cocks as possible. I was still concerned, though, about not being known as, well, “blowjob girl”. I didn’t want people talking about me, I didn’t want a reputation, most of all I didn’t want anyone expecting anything. I just wanted – I know this sounds fanciful – I just wanted to be a mysterious figure who swooped into their lives, gave them some delight, and then magically vanished, you know, the whole phantasm thing. It was so much fun to take guys by surprise.
And that worked, I take it?
Well, I couldn’t just say “hello, would you care to be fellated”, but a lot of guys were pretty oblivious to hints. Things became easier when I realised that any time a guy said “do you want to see the balcony” or “the roof” or “the backyard” or “my gaming system”, or anything like that, somewhere in his mind was the thought “I might have sex”. So mostly I just had to find someone who didn’t seem like a jerk and wait till that happened. Either that, or go somewhere semi-private with a small group and hope that I ended up being the last one there, like with party-guy. If I did end up alone with someone, well, then the real threshold seemed to be a kiss – if we managed to be kissing, I could make it a pretty smooth transition to putting my lips around his cock. Mostly me on my knees as he leaned against a wall or tree, but sometimes me nestled between his legs as he was sitting on a chair or the steps of a building or whatever, if that visual is of any help to you,.