“What’s the normal size of a penis?”
“He sounds like he’s in pain.”
“Jamie wants eye contact, but I don’t think I can dothatwhile looking him in the eye.”
“Does anyone ever vomit?”
“Do their lips and tongue fall asleep?”
“How do they breathe normally?”
“How long is this going to take?” That question makes me giggle, as I say it very closely resembling King Julian in the animatedMadagascarmovie.
When Chelsea growls at me, I look over to find her glaring as she pauses the video. “You can’t learn anything because you won’t shut the hell up.”
“Don’t you have questions?”
“No, because I’m not fucking a man!” she yells. “How hard can it be? Put it in, suck, see how far you can get it down your throat. Jesus. It’s not rocket science.”
“Evidently it’s more involved than that, or my ex wouldn’t have said I’m awful at it.” The more I think about it, the more pissed I get at OJ for telling me. He could have just broken it off and walked away. But no, he had to get one final dig in. Honestly, it’s my own fault by dating someone who chose to go by OJ, when his given name is Owen. Who chooses that? Dumbass.
“Fine. Then let’s give these puppies a go,” Chelsea says, twirling a banana between her fingers, while handing me one. “How’s your gag reflex?”
“Well, I don’t barf when I deal with abscesses or parasitic worms, and I pretty much get marked by an animal every day without me puking in return.”
“But how is the physical aspect of it? Can you touch the back of your tongue without gagging?” Chelsea asks, sticking her finger in her mouth, immediately gagging.
“I don’t know. I’ve never forced myself to try,” I tell her.
“Go ahead then. You know what? Use the banana. That’s what it’s there for anyway.”
“Alright. Wait. Let me get a trash can, as a precaution.” I run to the bathroom, grabbing the small trash receptacle I keep in there. “It already has a bag, so if needed, it’s an easy cleanup.”
“Good call,” she says with a laugh, wiping a tear from her eye. “Man, it’s a good thing I’m a lesbian. No way could I give a blow job without hurling.”
“I honestly want to know the first man who thought about this, and who he convinced to try it out.”
“I would like to know how many decades, if notcenturies, it was before a woman realized she could have a similar experience,” Chelsea says with a huff. “Because we both know a man did not decide to go down on a woman on his own.”
I chortle. “Knowing men, they were probably more willing to suck each other off before they even thought about reciprocating on their wives.”
“Probably a true story,” Chelsea jokes, then points at me. “Let’s get this going, ma’am. You’re the one with something to prove. Hollow out them cheeks and suck that ‘naner.”
I furrow my brows, staring at the banana. “Should I peel it? This can’t be a good sensation on my tongue, and it certainly won’t taste good.”
Chelsea shakes her head. “I have to assume the real thing is also both of those qualifiers, and if you remove the peel, you could choke on part of the banana.”
“Alright,” I sigh. I guess she’s right. “Here goes nothing.”
I take a deep breath, placing the banana at the tip of my tongue. So far so good. Not a great sensation, but I’m not feeling the need to barf, so I’m chalking it up as a good thing.
“You can go further than that,” Chelsea urges. “Swirl your tongue around it too.”
“Wut?” I mumble, inching the banana backward into my mouth.
Chelsea shrugs. “I don’t know. Any porn I watch when an unfortunate male is involved usually has tongue swirling.”
“Wike wis?” I ask, then loudly laugh when I realize the banana is too far back for Chelsea to comprehend anything I’m saying, and I can’t do a thing with my tongue anyway.
