I´ve always felt fellatio was a most intimate act, the most intimate carnal knowledge one can acquire of a loved one.
When you hold your lover´s cock in your hand, look on it intently, and actually feel it, every little bit of its anatomy is engraved in your mind, imprinted in your hands and your brain: size, temperature, smell, taste, vibration, shape… all conjuring a state of ecstasy that can not be faked, nor mistaken.
There is truth in the connection of mouth and cock, locked in passionate exploration, lost in dazzling movements, as hand and lips, and tongue, and gland, and skin, and shaft, cooperate towards a flow of warm juice, so intoxicating, that I confess I´ve fallen for a man´s taste.
There is a Brazilian song which describes this excitement so perfectly that when I listen to it, the taste of my most beloved lover comes immediately to me, as a sad memory, however dear, a longing that is both emotional and physical, racking my body from my cunt to my mouth.
Aquele gosto amargo do teu corpo
Ficou na minha boca por mais tempo
De amargo, então salgado ficou doce
Assim que o teu cheiro forte e lento
Fez casa nos meus braços
E ainda leve, forte, cego e tenso
Que ainda era muito e muito pouco
(Daniel na Cova dos Leões, by Renato Russo)
Which roughly translates as:
The bitter taste of your body
Lingered longer in my mouth
Bitter, it grew salty and then sweet
As soon as your scent, strong and slow,
Made home of my arms,
And though light, strong, blind and terse,
Made it clear that it was too much, too little.
Men and women are such different creatures in the way how they build their sexual personas, but I daresay that Renato Russo, a gay man, described pretty much how I feel, and how any woman, enraptured in the act of fellating a lover feels.
Love is genderless, and sex can be a carnal expression of intimacy which leads to love, this elusive monster.
Like a dog who drools when a bell is rung, waiting for its bowl of food, how I miss my one love, even though I can´t pretend to be amiss of lovers!
Anyway there is this point when I hope the kiss is awesome heralding the connection below, and it has not happened again yet. The fatal lick around the head, the cupped hand and free abandonment, happily enjoying my man.
As the lyrics say, when I can fully appreciate the subtle change of taste, and let someone nestle in my arms.
For sometimes too much is damn to little.