My Best Friend Thought Men Sucked At Oral Sex

“That’s so unrealistic!” my best friend, Olivia, exclaimed as we watched the main character of the movie we were watching have her pussy licked by her boyfriend.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“She’s enjoying it.”

“Why wouldn’t she?”

“Because guys suck at oral sex,” Olivia said, shrugging as she took a sip of her vodka and Coke. “It’s an undeniable fact.”

“What are you talking about?” I scoffed in reply, pausing the film as the main character was mid orgasm.

Olivia and I have known each other since school. The teachers sat us next to each other, and we just hit it off. We’ve been inseparable since.

We were having one of our movie nights. Whenever we were both at a loose end on a weekend, she would come over to my place, and we would take turns picking a movie. We would drink a little too much and talk about the film afterwards. It would never be a high-brow discussion. We never watched a high-brow film. Mostly, we would ridicule the film unless it was particularly good

Olivia has different tastes in movies than I do. I wouldn’t say she’s a romance girl. She prefers dumb comedies, but today she chose a pretty raunchy romance on the recommendation of one of her girlfriends.

“It’s true!” she insisted. “I haven’t met a guy who knows where a woman’s clitoris is or what a woman likes. Neither do my girlfriends.”

“Like whom?” I demanded.

“Jenny, Charley, Becca, Sara, Dawn, need I go on. We girls talk about these things, you know, and I’m sorry, but you men don’t know how to get women off with your tongues.”

“When I asked, “Like who? I meant like what guys?”

“My ex-Jason. He loved going down on me, but it felt as if my pussy was being licked by an overenthusiastic dog. I felt nothing but slobber. Then there was Mike, who thought he was ace until he caught me checking my Instagram feed while he went down on me.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “That was rude.”

“Well, what was I supposed to do?” she said defensively. “I was bored, and he had been down there a long time, not doing much.”

“Couldn’t you have just told him what you wanted?”

“Duh! Don’t you think I didn’t think of that? He just told me, “Don’t worry about it, Babe! It’ll be unforgettable.” It certainly was unforgettable; I wish I could forget it, though. He dumped me after that Instagram incident. Imagine that. He dumped me.”

“Are you seriously telling me that you and your girlfriends have not once enjoyed it when a guy went down on you?” I asked in disbelief. “I thought women loved it.”

“We do,” she replied. “But it’s hard to find a guy who knows how a pussy works.”

“I do,” I told her, feeling put out that I had been lumped in with all those jerks. I knew all of Olivia’s exes and met most of her girlfriends’ exes, and I’m only going to say that those guys were full of themselves.

“Really?” Olivia said, not believing I did.

“I haven’t had complaints.”

“Maybe they were only being polite.”

“I know they came.”

“How?”

“By the mess they made of my face. Remember Jenny. She strung me along because she couldn’t get enough of it.”

Olivia scoffed, clearly not believing me.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” she justified herself, refusing to change her opinion. “As much as a bitch Jenny was, guys suck at licking pussy.”

“If you don’t believe me, then I’ll prove it,” I told her. The alcohol in my system was helping me cross a line I shouldn’t have with Olivia.

“What?”

“I’ll prove it to you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ll lick your pussy.”

“Jack!”

“Why not? You insulted me by associating me through gender with all your douchebag exes. You should let me defend myself and prove I don’t suck.”

“Yeah… but… it’s you, Jack.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know?”

“No.”

“Well, you should,” Olivia told me, sounding flustered as she shifted uncomfortably on my sofa.

“What’s the matter? Afraid you might enjoy it?” I knew better than anyone how to push her buttons. All it needed was a little challenge, especially when she’s been drinking. She always bites.

“I doubt it,” she replied haughtily.

“Your loss,” I said with a smirk. I knew I had her.

“God! I hate it when you do that, Jack,” she snapped. “Fine! Make it quick. I want to see the end of the movie, and don’t get all upset when I tell you to stop because you sucked after all.”

Olivia hesitated for a moment, then she began to undress.

“You too,” she said nervously as she unclasped her bra. “I don’t want to be the only one naked.”

“You have beautiful tits and body,” I told her as I began to undress too.

She glared at me, but she couldn’t stop a smile from appearing on her lips at my compliment.

Olivia sat back down on the sofa with her legs open and waited for me, looking uncomfortable as she watched me crawl to her on my hands and knees.

I slowly opened her reluctant legs and held my breath. Her tits and body weren’t the only things beautiful about her.

Olivia’s pussy had short, neat hair above it. Its pink folds were begging for attention.

Her pussy was well cared for yet unloved.

“Are you going to do something? You staring is, like, weird,” she said, clearly feeling awkward about being naked in front of me.

Her words snapped me out of the hypnotising effect that her pussy had on me.

I ran my hands over her thighs and up to her hips, feeling her shudder as I did so. My lips then made soft kisses where my hands had been.

At first, I felt nothing from Olivia. She remained stubbornly silent.

Her reluctant sigh came. It was so quiet that I almost missed it as I lost myself in the softness of Olivia’s thighs. Each slow kiss sank into her warm flesh. Once her first sigh of contentment came, she couldn’t prevent more.

My kisses travelled up her thighs. A faint aroma filled my nostrils, drawing me in. A kiss elicited a small, unexpected gasp. The gasp was unwanted by Olivia, but desired by me.

I kissed her again, and I felt it. A determination. A determination not to enjoy what I was doing to her. A deliberate, leisurely lick through her folds with the tip of my tongue was rewarded with a surprised squeal, and her battle was lost.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be for Olivia, but we were past the point where she was to tell me I sucked.

“God! I hate you,” she murmured, words that weren’t for my ears, but I heard them all the same, and a smile curled on my face.

That first lick gave me my first taste of Olivia. Sweet with a slight tang. A flavour which was uniquely hers.

Another lick, then I traced my finger around her labia, studying intently as I did so. Imprinting every shape and texture to memory. I felt her pussy moisten on my touch.

Every pussy is different. Each one is beautiful in its own way, and Olivia’s was no different.

My tongue replaced my finger, following the same route; my sight was no longer required as the journey was already familiar. A tentative hand found my head.

My finger found her hole and slowly entered her. A small moan, and Olivia’s legs rose and opened wider. The finger curled and rubbed. Fingers in my hair gripped tight. There was a brief tension in Olivia’s body as an unmistakable small orgasm shot through her, either unexpected or unwanted. Maybe both.

A second finger joined the first. Her pelvic bone clamped down on both. Any resistance Olivia had was swept away in a bliss she hadn’t felt given to her before.

My tongue returned to Olivia’s pussy, finding her clitoris to make circles around it. Her pelvic bone clamped harder. Her legs shifted. Her hips lifted. My fingers were unable to remain inside, my tongue unable to stay with Olivia’s clitoris, and my control of the happiness I was giving her was being lost.

My hands had to return to her hips, holding them tightly. My tongue searched up her folds until I found her clitoris again. Circling. Flicking. Sucking.

Olivia’s hips fought against my hands. My control over her tightened. Her grip of my hair became stronger. Her body stiffened. A slick, moist sensation spread across my mouth and chin.

Olivia’s body relaxed. Her eyes were closed, face flushed. Her breasts rose and fell with heavy breaths.

I climbed off the floor to sit with her, taking her into my arms to gently stroke her hair and kiss her forehead. She allowed herself to fall into me.

“Are you good?” I asked.

“Yes, I’m good,” she replied between heavy breaths.

“Did you enjoy it?” was the question that needed to be answered.

“It was perfect,” she replied. Her hand reached up to my cheek. She kissed me and whispered, “Thank you.”