I’ll Expose My Body, but My Pleasure Is Private

Why I won’t receive oral sex in public

I find myself in extremely fortunate circumstances; my man not only loves going down on me, but he does it with gusto—and, if I may say—with excellence. For a long time. As often as he can.

He’s so eager that I occasionally have to turn him down:

—Thank you, but I really can’t handle another orgasm!

If that’s not a luxury problem, I don’t know what is. It wouldn’t even be fair to call it a problem—it’s a straight-up luxury.

While I absolutely love to reciprocate, a lot, he certainly has me beat when it comes to the sheer amount of hours spent offering lip service. Not that I’m keeping track—nor am I complaining!

But, there’s one thing I just can’t let him do.

Apart from when I’ve already had a handful of ecstatic orgasms and desperately need to sleep or start my day, there’s one other occasion where I have to decline:

Cunnilingus in public.

My lover, I’ve come to learn, is quite the exhibitionist. I always thought I was bad, but I have nothing on him when it comes to getting silly in public without giving a damn what people think.

I know he fantasizes about going down on me with an audience. Not only has he told me—and written about it:

We tried.

It all happened when we were out dancing. While not an actual sex joint, the techno club comes equipped with darkrooms and other semi-private areas where people do get down to business. Besides, the majority of the club’s clientele is more naked than clothed. Let’s just say it’s not a prudish atmosphere, and few things will cause anyone there to bat an eye—unless you try to take a photo inside. That will get you thrown out and banned.

Anyway, you get the vibe.

We made our way to a chillout area on the lower floor and found a spot. There were a couple of people around, but they mostly minded their own business and didn’t linger.

I had to tell him to stop.

We started making out and soon, as usual, he made his way south. My skimpy hot pants allowed for easy access without rendering me completely nude. Still, lying there on my back, with him all the way down there, I felt oddly alone—and very naked.

I promptly pulled his arm and made him resurface.

—I can’t do it!

—Why? He didn’t understand.

—I feel too exposed.

—But no one can see anything, I’m covering you with my head, he reassured.

—No, it’s not that…

I asked if he could use his hands instead. That way, he’d be up there with me, and, with his body shielding mine, we could kiss and connect while he was giving me pleasure.

He agreed, of course, and even with the sterilized latex gloves we had brought for hygiene reasons, it was one of the absolute best manual sex experiences I’ve had. Then—with a few people in the background, and one guy, who’d respectfully asked if he was allowed to watch—I came, hard, with my face buried deep in my partner’s neck.

After concluding our performance with a hot doggy-style blow-off—where I suddenly didn’t mind being watched and also got to gaze out on the dancefloor below through a gap in the baluster—we sat down to talk.

It’s not my nakedness that I’m afraid to expose.

I’m not shy to show off my body. I’ve made peace with it, despite its flaws, and I don’t find nudity shameful in the least.

I’m not even shy to show off some action, in the right setting.

—Then what is it? pleaded my silver-tongued lover.

I can’t let random strangers see my ‘o-face’.

I’m terribly uncomfortable with the public display of my uninhibited passion.

—Your ‘o-face’? Why? But, you look great! Are you afraid you look bad?

—Gaaaah!

(I felt frustrated about how difficult this was to put into words and why he didn’t just get it)

I’m sure I make some less-than-flattering faces in the heat of the moment, but that wasn’t exactly it either.

I’m afraid of losing control—in public.

As someone practicing BDSM and who enjoys playing with power exchange, this may seem like a contradiction. But, it actually makes perfect sense:

To submit in a power-play dynamic is to give up control. Our kinks are very often rooted in our taboos and fears. I’m somewhat of a control freak in my day-to-day life, and I prefer to stay in charge of how I’m perceived by the outside world. This is exactly why giving up control in a sexual setting is so appealing to me.

If I display my nakedness in front of a crowd; even if I were to do a spread-eagle for my audience to gaze into the abyss—I’d still be the one in charge.

If, on the contrary, I’m completely exposed and at the mercy of my partner’s tongue, I might get caught off guard. I’ll likely move, jerk and shake in ways that are beyond my command.

I’ll be out of control!

As Joe Duncan poetically puts it in his article about oral sex as both pleasure and control:

There’s a sense of power in it and a hint of poeticism in controlling a woman’s entire body with little more than your tongue, while stoically sitting and enjoying the fruits of her femininity.

While some may view the scene of a man, on his knees; his face buried between her “luscious lips”, as her exerting dominance over him, I agree with Joe’s perspective on this: It’s really the other way around.

The expression of pleasure is the pinnacle of intimacy.

Experiencing me, experiencing the pleasure created by you—by us together—is about as close to me as you can get.

The utterly raw, unrestrained, and uncensored version of myself; the one I let loose and allow you to witness as I bare, not just my body, but something far deeper than that. That’s not for everybody. That’s a gift to you.

There are a few exceptions.

There are scenarios where I’d willingly have my boundaries nudged:

In a group setting. Let’s say with another couple, where everyone’s actively participating in some way or another. Here, they’re vulnerable too, and we can all be vulnerable together.

If the performance is reciprocated. Similar to a group scenario, except we wouldn’t need to interact physically, I can imagine an intimate stage where we take turns being exhibitionists and voyeurs.

In a swingers club. Here, everyone’s getting it on anyway and I’d be less inhibited. Even here, I might not want to take the main stage with your face between my legs. Let’s see…

If I can’t see the people watching. I thought about this one and realized that if I can’t see or make eye contact with the people watching me—like in an old-fashioned peepshow—I’d feel differently. Especially if I knew that no one could record the scene.

Is my ultimate taboo also my ultimate wet-dream?

As someone with exhibitionistic tendencies and a hunkering towards powerplay, could it be that being watched while receiving cunnilingus is my most preeminent fantasy? Is this my apex to aim for?

I’ll admit to have imagined performing venereal acts in front of a large audience, but in those, I never climax—the voyeurs do though. Even in dreamland, I’m in charge.

Am I being too uptight or even too conventional? (That really doesn’t sound like me, does it?)

No. I believe that, while I might occasionally expose my body, on my own terms, there are a few things I’ll be precious about:

The most tender and intimate, deep-down crude and unadulterated expression of my femininity, that is my pleasure; that belongs to me alone. And whoever I may choose to share it with.