The Devil Is In The Details: Erections

Welcome back to my new miniseries of blog posts, The Devil Is In The Details, where I explore sex- and kink-related topics in way more depth than anyone asked for! Today, as you can guess from the title, I’ll be talking about erections and why I love them.

I love my own erections. I came with a vagina and a clitoris pre-installed, rather than a penis, and for the most part, I’m happy about that – my vagina has brought me a lot of joy over the years, and I wouldn’t want to get rid of it even on my most dysphoric days. My clit, too, has brought me a great deal of joy, mostly while it’s been erect. I love starting to masturbate and feeling my clit slowly harden and peek out of its little hood. I find my own erections affirming on my masculine days, but they aren’t so obtrusive or gendered in my mind to be off-putting on my feminine days. Plus, obviously, they’re a lot of fun to play with.

I love other people’s clitoral erections too, of course. Whatever the gender of the person I’m fucking, I love playing with their clit in a way that makes them squirm. I love that clitoral erections are a little bit harder to find and get my mouth around than penile ones, because it makes it all the more rewarding when I find that hard knot of flesh with my tongue.

Penile erections, though – that is, erections happening to a penis – are delicious in their own right. As well as saying, in a way I cannot refute, that I’m sexually attractive, an erection says to me that foreplay is going well. I love how obvious they are, how incontrivertible and, well, solid the proof is that sex is still going okay. (Note: erections are not a substitute for ongoing communication. However, they are a substitute for nervously asking, “Do you fancy me?” or “Is this neck-licking thing doin’ it  for you?” dozens of times during a single fuck.)

I also love the sensory experiences an erect penis can provide. There’s the halfway-there erection that gives way just a little under your fingers, the tissue springy but firm. There’s the rock-solid erection that twitches in your mouth (did I mention how much I love to put anything in my mouth? Never lend me a pencil.) and which shoves any foreskin out of the way, just inviting you to roll it back and forth over the head of a cock with your hands, your tongue, your tits…

Ahem.

Then – and this might be cheating – there’s the taste of an erection. It’s not just the texture of my spit, mixed with precum, on my tongue, against a dick – a unique sensory experience, the only word for which is “slick”. Erect dicks taste different to flaccid ones, at least in my experience, which might be because of sciencey things to do with pheromones or precum (which I did once write an entire blog post about – I fucking love precum), or which might just be to do with the magic of having a hard dick in my mouth. Either way, erections taste hot and human and different on everybody, and the sight of an erection immediately gets my mouth watering – what might this dick taste like? When am I going to find out?

I don’t know whether I have an oddly sensitive tongue or an oddly detail-oriented mind or whether this is a universal thing, but I also love feeling out all the different parts of a dick with my tongue – the curve of the head, the slit down the middle, the tautness of the frenulum, all the way down the shaft and then to the balls (which maybe don’t count as part of an erection, but don’t you just love the texture of a scrotum? The way it gives and folds? The fact that sometimes you can feel individual hair follicles with your tongue?).

Oh, and obviously: erections look hot as sin. Dripping precum, hidden in boxers, in the mouth of another hot human – all unbearably hot.

Y’all might have to excuse me. I have blowjobs to think about and an erect clit to deal with.


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How To Eat Me Out

Labelled diagram of the vulva, showing the clitoris, outer and inner labia, urethra, vaginal opening, perineum and anus.

When I first start to see someone on a sexy and/or romantic basis, I usually find a way to drop into the conversation that I don’t like to be eaten out. It’s not a lie, as such; if you were to graph my enjoyment when receiving cunnilingus, you’d find that, statistically speaking, I don’t like to be eaten out, because most people don’t know quite how to eat me out.

But there are outliers in most data sets, and my cunnilingus experiences are no exception. I tell people I don’t like to be eaten out all that much because the amount of effort I expend on explaining my preferences doesn’t usually yield worthwhile results. In other words, some people are bad listeners in bed.

But the people who are good listeners do such a bang-up job, regardless of their experience (or lack thereof), that I feel like I should give them a chance. I wanted to write something about how I do like to be eaten out, so that I have a list of tips to hand when somebody is kind enough to ask, and to illustrate to my fellow vulva-havers that everybody has preferences and it’s okay to be bossy about them. You could use this article as a jumping-off point in considering your own tastes, or as a means to communicate with a partner about things they could try doing differently or aspects of cunnilingus the two (or more) of you haven’t yet considered.

So, step one: do not suck on my clit.

I know some people love this. And I might love it too, except that I haven’t allowed anyone to try it on me since one ill-fated hookup wherein my partner made me feel like I’d trapped my bits in a vacuum cleaner. So now, to avoid spooking me, if you must suck on my clit, do it so delicately I don’t notice – more suction-y kisses, and less trying to slurp jelly from a plate.

(We often tell people, especially those with penises, that the clitoris is biologically homologous (basically, very similar) to the penis. And that’s true, and I understand we’re trying to demystify the clit and remind people that we’re not all that dissimilar, regardless of the arrangement of our bits. But people with penises don’t always seem to take into account that the nerve endings on a clit are super densely packed in there and super duper sensitive, so sucking on it like you’re trying to extract snake venom is painful. You could, at the very least, ask, “Do you like having this sucked on?” in a sexy, breathy voice, or start gentle and see how your partner responds. Please, I implore you, do not suck it like you would a helium balloon for your excellent Alvin And The Chipmunks impressions.)

Step two: actually, calm down about my clit altogether.

Like, sure, acknowledge its presence. Say hello with your tongue. But spend the majority of your time, at least at first, kissing and licking my thighs, labia majora and mons pubis. (You can easily find diagrams of where these bits are by searching for “vulva diagram”.) Toothlessly (very toothlessly!) close your mouth around my clit with the clitoral hood still shielding it. It’s a good idea to ask before you move my clitoral hood, because I might not be ready for intense, direct clitoral stimulation just yet. Sometimes I’ll even put a hand on my own mons pubis and tug upwards, exposing my clitoris a little for you, when I’m feeling eager to have it licked. Pay attention.

Step three: please drool. And slobber. And salivate.

Dry tongues are not my favourite. They might be yours, and that’s cool, but certain kinds of friction give me such Bad Autism™ that I feel as though I might retch. (And retching is, in my world, reserved for a certain kind of blowjob, not for receiving cunnilingus.) Get your lips and tongue saturated with moisture any way you know how and keep it that way. I always have flavoured lube somewhere, so if you need some to maintain the layer of wetness that separates my genitals from sensory hell, feel free to ask. Also, if you make eye contact with me and lick your lips to indicate you’re enjoying having your face in my cunt, I will melt. Just so you know.

Step four: consider using toys.

You might feel that using toys constitutes “giving up” or indicates that you’re not doing a thorough enough job. However, I find that the opposite is true: using toys means you’re prepared to do a really thorough job, and you’re prepared to do it well. Sticking something steel and curved into my cunt will stimulate my A-spot, which allows you to focus almost entirely on eating me out. Slipping a well-lubed plug into my butt means you can gently lick, kiss and massage my vulvovaginal bits… and then surprise me by wiggling the plug. Or tapping its base. Or making it vibrate.

Eating with cutlery doesn’t mean you’ve given up on eating; it means you’ve found a more straightforward and enjoyable way to do it. Similarly, eating me out with toys in the mix doesn’t mean you’ve given up on eating me out. And I promise you, if you pay attention and do as your partner asks, no toys will fully distract from the human, wet, messy, delightful process of you eating them out. The toys might enhance it, but their thoughts won’t drift from the sensation of your mouth on their bits. I guarantee it.