A Walk With Miss Pearl

A few days back, the weather was glorious, and I got invited to go on a walk along the water with Miss Pearl.

Over the short time that I have known her (barely half a year, really), I have come to regard Miss Pearl as a close friend whom I can trust and share things with in a way that I never had in a friendly relationship before. Most friends I have had in the past would violently flail and make gagging sounds if kink was mentioned in any shape or form. Add to that the fact that I have trust issues as deep as the Marianas Trench and you’ve got a recipe for an antisocial recluse – which I sort of am. So I am very grateful for Miss Pearl’s ability to coax me out of my burrow and – sometimes under protest – into the real world. (Not the real world!! The light; it burns us. I will melt!)

She is, also, partly responsible for my return to the bosom of the Kink community. Truth be told, I view Miss Pearl as a friend and mentor when it comes to Kink. She has more experience with the world of BDSM than I and her advice is pure gold. And that advice, dear Internet, is something I feel the urge to share with you.

I am lucky to boast a phenomenal auditory memory and I can frequently quote people verbatim ac litterarim months, even years, later. It is a useful skill for my theatre projects to say the least… But I digress.

So, on our walk by the waterfront, Miss Pearl and I naturally stumbled upon the topic of Femdom, as we are wont to do on such occasions. Of course, in a conversation about Domination, we inevitably ended up speaking of the submissive men in our lives and what buttons to push to get them off.

And this is where Miss Pearl’s advice, while absolutely valuable, also turned to a pure comedy chef-d’oeuvre. You see, Miss Pearl has a way with the spoken word (also reflected in her writing) that  would probably make Jane Austen envious. (I was going to say she could rival Shakespeare, but I fear the Theatre Gods might strike me down if I were to suggest such a thing.)

As we mention our respective gentlemen’s “buttons,” Miss Pearl says to me: ‘When I give blowjobs I like to sing the “Farmer Bingo” song in my head.’

For a moment, I had to ask her what song she meant. Having grown up in a German language household, I could not recall the song. So Miss Pearl sang the first few chords to me. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be horrified: it was exactly the silly ditty I thought she meant!

I had to stop dead in my tracks and burst out laughing. Miss Pearl looked at me with a huge grin. ‘What?’ she asked. ‘It’s got the perfect rhythm to suck a guy off. And if you breathe based on the song and its rhythm, it will prevent you from accidentally vomiting all over the guy’s lap.’ And Miss Pearl began to sing the song again, moving her head back and forth to mime a bj. I believe I might have been crying of laughter at this point.

After I had regained my breath for a bit, I asked her if that song also worked for handjobs.

‘No,’ she told me. ‘When it comes to handjobs, all men are special snowflakes. Some, like [Wildcard], require a lot of care and are all about special handgrips to be able to orgasm from a handjob. Others like it if you treat their cock like a bottle of Snapple juice…’ She paused then added: ‘If you really hated that Snapple.

I had to giggle and asked her what she meant, as the imagery this conveyed to my mind was pure hilarity. ‘Well,’ she elaborated, ‘you just firmly grasp that bottle of Snapple and angrily shake it until you get a result.’ Delightfully irreverent as Miss Pearl is, she actually mimed the motion as well.

But for bjs, the Bingo song works to get a guy off every time, no matter the man,’ she concluded.

We then moved on to a plethora of other topics (our walk did last two hours), but that specific advice stuck with me. It was simply too brilliant not to share.

And guess what I will have to try next time I take my gentleman to bed? *nudge, nudge, wink, wink*

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