Carrots (What It's Like)

We go to the Farmer's Market in the village every weekend, and She's become enamoured of the produce of one of the farmers who's trying to go organic (a long and difficult process to certification). And when we went last Saturday, I saw them--a big bunch of multi-colored carrots, not the wimpy ones you usually get at the greenmarket, but hefty, almost tuber looking carrots in purple, orange, white, red. Large and fat, turgid, they looked like a bunch of erect penises.

I've always felt that I should experience whatever She experiences sexually---it's why I started playing around with a butt plug, although that's gotten way further than just mutual experience (my collection is now up to three, and I'm still struggling with the Tristan), but that's another story for another time.

And so I knew what I had to do. I bought the carrots and took them home to play with. I picked out the one that looked most like an erect penis and put it in my mouth, then put it further in my mouth, then lay down on the bed with my head hanging over the edge and put it more into my mouth. I have a terrible gag reflex, and it was all I could do to stay with it, trying to focus on relaxing, yet moving it in and out of my mouth as far as it would go, and I have a large mouth.

In something I read recently, either a blog or in the Village Voice, the writer (a woman) had put on a strap on and was pegging her partner, and she reflected on the co-ordination difficulties she was having. Honey, I sure can understand how giving a blow job, a good blow job, can be hard work, and I can sure appreciate the good ones that I've gotten. And I was essentially doing myself here, at least as far as the oral activity was concerned.

Earworm-Beethoven, Symphony #5-Finale