The Scarlet Letter
Volume V, Number 1 | March 1998
From the Camel’s Back
By Sr. Baphemetis Continuity, Lodgemaster

Penis, penis, penis, penis, cocksucker. Oops. Even my spellchecker doesn’t recognize cocksucker—I guess it’s not in Microsoft Word’s® internal dictionary. It should be in there, because cocksucking Portrait of the Cro-Magnum as a Young Manis here to stay. It’s a whole lot of fun and when done right, gives great pleasure to all parties involved. I love to suck cock. And so do many of the adults I know—and some of the ones who aren’t so sure if they want to give mouth massage to another’s diamond rod are happy to be on the receiving end. If they’re not a cock-sucker, then perhaps they’re a yoni nibbler. Or a vulva licker. Or maybe just an expert kisser.

Wait. Come to think of it, I do know an adult who doesn’t: my best friend from high school doesn’t suck cock. She decided when she was about 15 that there was something very nasty and unsavory about giving oral pleasure. Something about urine and semen coming from the same tube. Something her mother said a nice girl doesn’t do. But I know her to be a happy recipient of the previously mentioned yoni nibbling. She likes to cum that way, no doubt. Fear of oral sex isn’t unusual among the uninitiated, I suppose, but it always surprises me when I meet an adult who claims not to partake out of principle. Some people don’t like oral sex because their clit or their penis is so sensitive that it sets them off in a bad way. Susie Bright once noted in an essay that she prefers a spanking over a licking. For some it is a matter of aesthetics. Madonna is reputed to eschew the blow-job. But they probably found out by experimentation and not through avoidance of the entire subject.

Similarly, it surprises me when I meet (or observe through the media, as is mostly the case) adults who are squeamish about the word penis. In Victorian times, it was considered unseemly to refer to or display a human leg. Piano legs were adorned with special covers so that no one’s delicate sensibilities would be outraged. We do not live in Victorian times, but there seems to be a bit of a holdover. Case in point: there’s a radio quiz show which originates in Minnesota called “What Do You Know?” Or maybe it’s “Whattaya Know?” The last time I tuned in, one of the questions concerned the “animal part most often smuggled out of Canada and used as an aphrodisiac.” The possible answers included reindeer horns, seal penises, and something else. The host read the question and the multiple-choice answers with a curious combination of brashness and apology. No one wanted to repeat the p-word. Jokes were made; nervous giggles. The audience howled. The contestant guessed “reindeer horns”. The correct answer was “seal penises”. There was no way in hell anybody was going to get it right because no one there wanted to say it. Fully grown humans were guffawing and acting like it was a very big, naughty deal to say the word penis on the radio right out in front of God and everybody on a sunny mid-western afternoon. What I suspect is that they say it at home, among themselves, but they think that all the other people believe they aren’t supposed to say it or hear it without outrage/surprise/embarrassment, so they act out, regardless of their true feelings. If they are actually astounded, embarrassed, etc, then they are pathetic humans and less deserving of a body than some souls swimming around out there in the aethyr waiting to get snared. You get one body. It’s got a bunch of cool parts. Know them by name!

It cannot have escaped your notice that the US President has been getting a lot of media attention concerning his supposed extracurricular sexual activities in the Oval Office. Now, to begin with, who President Clinton fucks is none of my business, unless I happen to know them and they tell me about it. The fact that he fucks and sucks does not come as a big sur-prise; in fact, it would be quite disheartening to think that he didn’t have sex. Since he is a married President, and much of the American population seems to think (or act like they think, at least if they think anyone’s watching) monogamy is laudable, it is equally unsurprising that he would be concerned with discretion.

Were I in his political and personal position, and about to commence an affair with someone, I’m quite sure an important part of the preliminary negotiation would concern the (obvious) need for secrecy. You know: “We can’t fall in love. We can’t tell anyone. We have to keep this quiet.” How about you? Would you want the world to know—given the situation and all the parameters? Okay, I thought not. So, we’re going to rake this man over the coals for behaving in a way that is (at least secretly) understandable to most of the population? Why yes! And that’s because there is a vast gulf between the template of natural human behavior and the template that some people, by inference, accept as ‘socially correct’. This then is coupled with the great fear that if they let go of the template, even for a moment, the fabric of society will crumble and they will be left standing holding the threads.

The backlash concerning the media coverage of this non-event has been an astounding side note. When Terry Gross was interviewing journalists on her syndicated NPR show, Fresh Air, topic A was how they, the journalists, were handling “the difficulties and embarrassments of having to discuss oral sex in the media.” It was the damnedest thing I’ve ever heard. It was a visit to the Twilight Zone, both for me, and I think, for the journalists interviewed. Once Terry asked, they seemed to feel the need to play along; “Oh yes, harrumph, it seems so formal.” Ah, at last, a breath of real fresh air.

The front page of the Austin American Statesman featured an article about the anger and frustration parents were feeling now that they could “no longer allow their children to read the paper or hear the news.” While some parents claimed this was because the President was being shown to be a liar and this was deeply upsetting to the kiddies, most came clean and said it was because they had no clue about how to explain “oral sex” to their children.

And what I want to know is: why is this a mystery? What is the problem with saying, “it’s a way adults give each other pleasure” and moving along?

I don’t think we should be admitting to oral sex; I think we should be proclaiming it. And until we do, we are implicitly allowing this madness to go on. If you don’t live your values, then you have to stand by and watch while that which you truly love gets trashed. And you can do nothing, without standing up for what you believe in.

Accordingly, I hereby proclaim July 1, 1998, as Oral Pleasure Day! It is, not coincidentally, my birthday. Come on out and celebrate Oral Pleasure Day with me; and remember, we don’t call it oral sex around here either.

< Back to Vol. V, No. 1 Cover