More Cock Worship: 99% Enthusiasm, 1% Technique

A few years back I was reveling in debauchery. Divorced, 40-something, liberated and exploring my sluttiness. I was partying like a rock star with porn stars and beautiful people, but leading a successful double life as a mid-level executive in a conservative industry.

One night of debauchery started innocently, alone in my desert hideaway, scrubbing out a vintage 1970’s redwood Jacuzzi. Even at night it was a scorching 102 degrees outside so I was wearing tiny shorts and a bikini top when the porn posse arrived for a surprise visit. Strong winds whipped through the cacti and made the palms dance in the picture windows.

H was one of my all-time favorite lovers and I considered him my sexual soul mate. He provided a portal to the world of the depraved elite.

He and his friends were in town for the Coachella Festival. His entourage included that year’s AVN actress of the year, her top pornographer boyfriend and her best friend, an up-and-coming porn starlet. We played loud music and teased and laughed and drifted from room to room, leaving a trail of clothing. The starlet was hitting on me, spanking me playfully and coaxing me to pull my shorts off. We drank all sorts of alcohol, puffed coke up each other’s butts with a straw, and smoked pot.

(Note: I don’t recommend doing coke in that way but the novelty of being up close to the ass of a porn star known for her anal scenes was too good to refuse.)

The guys were game to start up an orgy, but porn star of the year was pouty and tired from the previous night’s orgy. She quashed the idea. She was kind of a drag. The conversation got more outrageous and random.

“I did a double anal scene but I don’t like that short guy, he has bad breath.”

“I adore this Method dish soap because the bottle is shaped like a woman’s body.”

“Try this blue meanie – it’s a blue energy drink and Sapphire gin.”

“Kraftwerk was amazing.”

“I dressed H up in a mini-skirt and halter top and tied him up to a St. Andrew’s cross so he could explore his feminine side…”

Then H blurted the show-stopper: “Daisy is the only person who’s ever managed to make me come from a blow job.”

Sudden silence. Both porn stars’ eyes went wide with amazement and all eyes were on me. The porn director glowed with a new-found respect for me. I could feel my cheeks burning, uncomfortable to suddenly be the center of attention of this flamboyant group.

The only one

Everyone knows H has had plenty of sex in his lifetime, much more than most mortals twice his age. And surely both porn girls had blown him repeatedly.

“What’s your secret?” asked porn star of the year. First time she’d shown a keen interest in me.

“Can you show me what you do?”

I stammered and flushed. What could I teach these luscious young girls who were seen on film doing double anal, gang bangs, etc.?

The truth is that I have no special technique at all. Sorry, girls, it’s not what you think. It’s just about following my inspiration and making a cosmic connection with the cock. In fact, if I try to think about technique it takes me out of that headspace and the sex becomes more mechanical, less inspired.

Cock worship

Let’s call it cock worship. There are certain cocks that inspire me to suck, lick, kiss and squeeze until I take that cock to mutually ecstatic and mind-blowing places. It’s not a blow job, it’s a deeply spiritual experience. When I’m in my zone sucking cock I go into a trance. Time stands still and nothing else exists but the cock and the euphoric rush of energy running between it and me. Consciousness of my self disappears and I exist only to serve. I surrender to the cock and do what it tells me to do.

In the BDSM world many submissives describe similar sensations during the BDSM play as “subspace.” It has to do with losing oneself in the bigger picture of serving a master. Servicing your lover with only his pleasure in mind, you are rewarded by his cum.

In my case, going into subspace from sucking cock was my initial way of tapping in to my submissive self. Sucking cock takes me to complete surrender and allows me to turn my conscious brain off. I go to that happy place, another world. I sometimes turn into a wild animal and groan, growl, thrash around, quiver, scream and cum from channeling and receiving the male energy. The blow job isn’t a job at all. It’s a privilege for me to give myself to the cock.

Cock worship is best when the back and forth energies of two souls feed off of each other. When I’m in my zone I like to have it pushed down my throat until my eyes water and my flesh goes cold and breaks out in goosebumps. A pure white energy stream erupts through my heart and enables me to share the ecstatic energy stream with my partner. My cunt gets so wet my thighs become soaked. I vibrate with a palpable orgasmic energy.

With a lover who I’ve established a trusted and deep bond with, cock worship becomes a form of meditation for me. The experience is truly transformative. I can see the man’s facial features soften and change as he approaches orgasm. That look of complete bliss is infectious and makes me cum.

That is how I worship cock. How about you?