The best position in which to give a blow job is flat on my back. Flat on my back with my head hanging off the side of the bed – mouth stretched out, wide open. Hands pinned beneath me, or in the grip of the guy whose cock is jammed nice and hard into my throat.

Blow jobs are fun, don’t get me wrong – the playful control of having someone in your mouth is good. Experimenting with varying levels of pressure, using my hands differently, swallowing as much of your cock as I can. All of it’s good, but none comes close to the sheer passive joy of being fucked in the throat.

It’s rough, and it’s painful, and it makes my eyes water. There’s something deeply satisfying about a guy who makes me choke – a guy who makes me feel like I’ve never been treated so abysmally.

Giving a blow job is a fun thing to do – being throatfucked is something to endure. A challenge offered by the guy – can you take this? Can I do this for as long as I want? Will you choke down on my dick until I spray come so hard down your throat you barely need to swallow?

Men make more noise during throatfucking than they do when you’re blowing them. They grunt, they moan, if they’re particularly brilliant they might occasionally interject with ‘that’s it’ or ‘oh, good girl‘.

Because I pick the boys who like the power.

As ever, it’s about being used

One of my friends likes to greet me by pushing me to my knees as soon as I get inside his front door. He’ll get me at just the right height, push my head back so it’s braced against the wall, then shove his dick into my mouth until I can feel the head pushing against the back of my neck. Until my eyes water and I’m drooling down onto my tits. He doesn’t even hold my head – he uses his hands to casually lift his shirt – keeping it away from the mess he’s making of me. And he’ll keep his cock there and keep fucking, and fucking, and fucking until I cry, or he comes, or both.

The reason I like throatfucking is that it makes me feel like I could be anyone. This guy doesn’t want me – he doesn’t think I’m cool, or interesting, or witty – he just wants somewhere – anywhere – to put his dick.

It’s not romantic, it’s not controlled – it’s a nice, quick, easy way to get off.

The hard part

The tricky thing about throatfucking is that guys are generally pretty nice. No one you’re fucking actually wants to kill you. They always start off gently – afraid that you’ll choke, or vomit, or become horrified and run the fuck away.

But with enough patience, and enough time, I can get a guy to understand that if I lean my head over the arm of the sofa and really stretch myself out, he can fuck my throat as hard as he’d fuck my cunt. And when he looks nervous and eases up to let me breathe I can look up at him with pleading, red-rimmed eyes and moan like I can feel it, like I want him to come. Moan as if all I want in life is to be a passive toy for him to fuck. As if the taste of his come is the only thing that can make me happy at that exact moment. Like I want it more than I want to stop choking and be able to breathe again.

Because… well… it’s true.

This post is available as audio – click ‘listen here’ at the start of the post, and check out the audio porn page for more sexy stories read aloud. 

UPDATE 2019: Since it went live, this post has gathered a huge number of comments, many of which are quite disturbing and involve people talking about *non-consensual* throatfucking. FYI, doing this without the consent of the other person is assault, and you should never do this kind of thing without first establishing whether the other party is willing. Every single guy I have done this with has understood it – I would not have done it with him if he hadn’t. If you want to do extreme sexual things, you need to pay extreme attention to your partner – listen to them, discuss with them, and make sure that they are happy to partake.

If you read the comments below, do bear in mind that many of them were posted before I implemented commenting guidelines, and you may find some quite disturbing. 

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The first time I saw a circumcised dick I froze in fear. Not because it looked weird (although for the record: it did. Don’t judge me) but because I didn’t have a sodding clue what to do with it.

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Number 14 wears leather gloves. When we go out for dinner – we always go out for dinner – he makes a show of taking them off and putting them on the table beside him. He’s calm. I’ve never heard him raise his voice, or get agitated, or even visibly excited. Number 14 is the domliest dom I know, and I’ve never had sex with him.

Why is he on the list? I don’t usually include people I haven’t actually fucked, but the things he’s done deserve more credit than the catch-all title ‘play.’ Play can be anything from a quick spanking at a party to a full-blown throat-fucking in a dark alley. The latter, I think, deserves a bit more credit.

He likes to find places that are private but public. Hidden nooks and doorways where he can press me into the wall and order me not to make a sound. It’s incredible what a pair of leather gloves and a calm demeanour can do to stop me from making the noises I’d usually revel in.

On the hunt for one of these places once he found what looked like an abandoned room just outside the entrance to a block of flats – just a door in a wall that took us into a place no bigger than a cupboard, with broken glass bottles on the floor and no lights.

He put his hand over my mouth and whispered to me not to make a sound, then yanked my skirt up and my knickers down and touched me until I was trembling and could barely stand.

Every time someone walked past the door, or I breathed too loudly or made any noise, he grabbed my throat and stopped me breathing until they’d gone. He kept doing this, then stopping, then doing more, then stopping, until I was so weak and frustrated that I was crying, and had we been somewhere no one would have heard us I’d have been begging him to fuck me.

When I got to that point he pushed me down until I was squatting on the floor and shoved his cock into my mouth, always maintaining his total silence and calm.

He held my hair with his leather-gloved hands and shoved himself right into my throat. It didn’t take long – after a few minutes, just as I started to choke and bruise, he came hot and hard into the back of my mouth.

Ever the gentleman, he walked me to the train station and held me up when I stumbled.