sunshine's Deep-throat-training...

It’s taken a long time for me to get here, about two years, and for the first few months it often felt like I wasn’t going anywhere. I’d asked him to show me videos, thinking the visual aid might make it seem easier. Far from it.

I can’t breathe as I push myself further forward, my throat contracting around his cock, asphyxiating from the inside. I don’t panic, not any more, gripping the root of him to feel his pleasure. I’m safe here, loved and wanted. Tightening around him, pushing him against the roof of my mouth with my tongue—he loves his dick being constricted. I take his shuddering moan as my only reprieve. Swallow, gasp and breathe.

It’s taken a long time for me to get here, about two years, and for the first few months it often felt like I wasn’t going anywhere. I’d asked him to show me videos, thinking the visual aid might make it seem easier. Far from it. Those porn clips boasted women swallowing dongs of ridiculous lengths without so much as blinking. My heart sank to see it. It seemed unattainable, when I was struggling to take much more than half of my love’s prick. But it all takes practice (yes, that old chestnut) along with a generous dose of desire.

The first thing I had to learn was how to breathe around him. It’s all very well for the tips to say ‘take deep breaths’, but when I can’t, even for a few seconds, I panic. Not that I’m complaining. It’s another level on which I lose myself when I taste him. It was a lot of effort at first. Taking him as far back as I comfortably could, swallowing, pushing just a little further. Trying again when it got too much and I had to come up for breath. This went on for weeks on end, to the point of infuriation. Obviously, I thought, it was something wrong with me. I’d tried out all the advice we could find, and I wasn’t getting anywhere. Some nights we’d both get frustrated, and I’d feel so inadequate that I couldn’t fall asleep. But god, I was a fucking idiot to think about giving up.

Suddenly, after months of practice, it seemed to just happen. All I needed was to ease him past the opening to my throat, just for a moment. To feel him twitch, the choke of his flesh tense against mine. To hear him moan and stroke my hair. The panic transformed, the tight feeling moved from my chest to my cunt. I knew then that I was starting to get it right.

His touch is what makes it for me. I could spend the longest time sucking his cock with his fingers in my hair, or light on my back. I forget who and where we are, in a state of trance, keeping my breathing steady. It’s just his body, mine, and the all-consuming want between us. There is no outside, embarrassment or inhibition. He reaches down to me, and I hold his hand as I fill myself with him. There is nothing hotter or more romantic than feeling the palm of his hand on mine as I fulfil his need. His teasing finger on my clit relaxes all of me into the drowsy warmth that falls near sleep, and I can swallow all of him. I feel the shock of his pleasure under me. He whispers that this is perfect, close to tears, the balance shifted. He’s desperate to come, but I’m the one who chooses when. I bring him close again, and again, until he shivers all down his body and begs me, ‘faster, deeper’. The reflex as he shoots down my throat makes my satisfaction raw, more real, as I curl up against him.

Two years ago, I thought giving deepthroat just came naturally to some people, that they were a lucky few. I wanted so badly to give my other half that experience, and when I tried those first times, I couldn’t help feeling that I was only average, didn’t have the flair of sexual confidence those few did. As I kneel for him, just to feel him swell into my throat, those thoughts seem far more distant. All of the frustration made it all the more beautiful to hear him cry with pleasure. And the next day, I felt like I could do anything, and I knew that confidence had just been dormant all along.