Getting past “Eeww”

11/03/2005

Thursday

Tomorrow will be day 69, so I suppose it's only appropriate that oral sex be the order of the day. Well, at least writing about it.

I was hoping for some insight into how others (especially women) got past the Eeww Factor when it comes to oral sex. But apparently not many who engage in this have given it much thought, and now that I bring it up there's some amount of discomfort but not enough to give up on the practice. So maybe some amount of denial is necessary to enjoy oral sex.

To me, the human body is not a dirty thing, provided one bathes/washes it on a regular basis. My wife, who is a bit fastidious about such things, rarely stops thinking about dirt, germs and toxins. Rather than being a fountain of joy, my penis is considered to be a conduit for toxic waste. And her own plumbing is not given much more consideration. It is the forbidden zone. I am not allowed to touch it, at all.

As Virgin saidin her comment, the human mouth contains much more bacteria than the exterior of genitalia. My wife is aware of that, as well, which is why my tongue is not allowed past her lips. I've debated about adding such obsessiveness towards cleanliness to my list of possible characteristics of people with LL. My wife lives in perpetual fear of all things germs. I'm sure she has never sat on a public toilet. She has no problems cleaning up the boys when they have toileting accidents or when they vomit. But my germs are in an entirely different class. Apparently, Man-Germs are more toxic than Woman Germs or kid Germs.

I regard the swapping and interchange of germs, bacteria and cooties (as long as they don't require medications) as an enormously intimate thing. I remember kissing a girl once and she ended up using her tongue to put her gum in my mouth. Sicko that I am, I thought that was pretty hot. Even hotter when she let me put it back after I chewed it awhile.

The point being that she was willing to swap spit, germs and whatever she had for whatever I had. To me, it isn't gross at all. It is part of the bond, part of sharing our innermost selves. Even our bacterias. I'll still kiss my wife when she's sick even though she'll make it as brief and fleeting as possible.

Here it is folks: swapping spit and fluids spreads germs, yes. But it is also the most efficient way to spread immunity. My wife, living in her pseudo-antiseptic world, is rarely totally well. I, being the depraved pig that I am, haven't missed work on account of being sick in several years.

Spreading cooties feels good. It is also good for the body. By engaging in some good old fashioned nastiness with your chosen mate, you are inoculating each other against the very pathogenic threats that are feared most by those most actively avoiding them. Sort of like, if you do something nasty it makes you healthier.

But the health issue is not the issue. It is the intimacy. I think individuals living in this perpetual fear of contracting or passing on some unknown bug from/to their partner may be more fearful of knowing and being known on such a deep, personal and intimate level. Those of us who enjoy it like it for all of the aspects involved. I want to know my wife's smells. All of them. Good, bad and ugly. And love her all the more for them. There is simply no more ultimate expression of unconditional acceptance than when your partner farts in the car and you can be okay with it, even though you might be rolling down the window. They are gifts. And being comfortable enough to be able to let one go when necessary is the gift of inviting such acceptance. I'm not talking a sort of crass "pull my finger" disrespect.

When my own father was ill, almost near the point of death, my mom was there. They wouldn't let him leave the hospital until he had a pooped and peed at least once. He had all these monitors and tubes hooked to him so using the bathroom was a major chore. But Mom and Dad hit upon an idea. The nurses didn't like it, but it met the requirement. Mom held the waste basket for him while he went. And when he was finished, Dad had to make the most humiliating request of his life. He asked Mom to wipe his butt. This was a very proud man not used to asking anything of anyone. Now he couldn't even wipe himself.

And you thought the last post had graphic elements.

The point is, at that moment their intimacy transcended past anything superficial. Mom didn't complain about the smell or the grossness. She was only too happy that he was still alive. Dad, although self-conscious was glad that she was there to do it.

I think that is what loving is supposed to be about. Life is messy, gross and disgusting. But it is so much better to share that with someone you can trust and still admire and love them completely enough that dirtiness is translated into a sort of purity in love. It light of that, the horrors of the germs of oral sex would be replaced by an attitude of trust, reciprocal love and the seeking and giving of pleasure and comfort from one to another.

D.