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"Can we, as a country, all agree

xmag.com : August 2006 : Another Lonely Night



For men, it is the ultimate American Dream, that moist mouth, that bottomless throat draining the swamp of lust, sucking them all, the short and the fat, the long and the tall, her head nodding off to the side, her eyelids fluttering, her low groans, down on her knees with her hands falling by her side as it disappears and reappears between her lips, then suddenly, wonderfully, the spooge spews.
Going down, giving head, kowtow chow, polishing the knob, smoking the blue-veined Havana, sucking the love torpedo, whatever you wish
to call it, the blow job remains center stage in dreams, in real life,
and in porn.
It goes back to the beginning—I assume Eve gave Adam a deluxe blow job after he bit into the apple—although it remained a taboo well into the 20th Century, just about everywhere on the planet except among a few enlightened aborigines scattered here and there on South Pacific islands and outposts in darkest Africa. It’s difficult to pinpoint when the blow job took hold in this country, but certainly Alfred Kinsey’s 1948 bombshell, Sexual Behavior in the Human Male, gave it a lift. Still, any of the boys returning from World War II likely would have been dazzled if offered this kindly coming home activity by their wives or girlfriends, and perhaps only the troopers among the liberators of Paris had been lucky enough to get truly liberated themselves by a tart on the Left Bank.
The ice cracked a bit in the late fifties. I recall my own envy at the time when a fiend of mine at Lincoln High School filled me in on his girlfriend’s specialty. “I don’t have to worry about getting her pregnant,” he added. Fascinating that in 1959 he captured the popular line in high schools today, where the blow job is apparently considered on a par with an after-school snack, and among some Sweet 16s, it’s not even considered a sexual act. No wonder there have been so many stories lately about boys falling behind in school. They no longer have to channel their pent-up aggression into homework.
Here’s one example of how deviant they considered oral sex in 1960. A highly respected and quite progressive investigator of sexual behavior, Dr. Edrita Fried, claimed the blow job fosters “de-individualization.” In an academic journal, Fried wrote the cum-sucker is a “sexual tool rather than a flesh-and-blood playmate who has individuality and desires of his own. Oral sex permits a high narcissistic condition.” So much for the contemporary view the year JFK went to the White House. (Can it be said John Kennedy was a narcissist because Marilyn Monroe sucked him off?)
During the “Make Love, Not War” years, the taboo on the BJ pretty much shattered, although that was mainly among those on the barricades and, thankfully, for the guys making war in Vietnam who now have fond memories of their first blow job from a pretty Vietnamese dewdrop in a shack along the River of Perfumes. But the sublime sexual act still hadn’t busted into the mainstream. That happened in 1972 when an enterprising pornographer laid out about twenty grand to produce a movie that has since grossed over six hundred million bucks: Deep Throat
For all its fame in breaking down the barrier, to my mind the best and funniest scene in the flick is the setup where the doctor (played by Harry Reems) examines poor Linda Lovelace, who has a problem getting off. To be sure, there is some sexual excitement in her life, but she says regular old intercourse just doesn’t seem all that great: “You know, no bells ringing, damns bursting, or bombs going off. What can I do?”
The helpful doctor asks her what excites her the most. She says, “giving head,” then points to her neck. Doc Reems examines her mouth and discovers that Ms. Lovelace has her clit in her throat. For a moment, this devastates her. The doctor tries to reassure her: “Having your clitoris in your throat is better than having no clitoris at all.”
Linda replies—and here’s the best bit
of comedy porn has ever offered—
“That’s easy for you to say. Suppose your balls were in your ear.” The
doctor snaps back: “Then I could
hear myself cumming.”
Bravo!

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