Some Thoughts on Eating Pussy

Gray Line with Black, Blue and Yellow, 1923, Georgia O’Keefe

This is of course a response to DJ Khaled’s ludicrous statement about kings not eating pussy or some such nonsense. Maybe his statement doesn’t even deserve an entire essay in response, so here’s the short version right out the gate: Do you love your partner? It doesn’t matter if it’s your wife or a hookup. Do you have enough love in your heart to put aside all of the power dynamics, male ego and self-serving social constructs to be honestly invested in her and her pleasure? Then eat her pussy.

And yes, I mean love. Oral sex is often characterized in terms of reciprocity for men- if she goes down on you, then you should go down on her. It’s used as a tool in a bag of sexual tricks to “get the job done,” as if pleasure is simply a matter of inputs and outputs- lick the clitoris this way and get the desired result. We try to use it as a back door to intercourse- once we get her pants off with oral, it’s that much easier to transition from our tongue to our penis. Sometimes we even use it as an apology for unsatisfactory intercourse. But if you’ve decided that you’re going to have sex with a woman, then you should have love for that woman in your heart at the moment you engage with her. That doesn’t mean taking sex more seriously, and only engaging in it with someone that you have a long-lasting romantic relationship with (we should probably take sex a lot less seriously.) It means having a more expansive and generous idea of what love is.

It’s hard, because even when we do eat pussy, it’s oftentimes not for the pleasure of our partner. It’s for our own pleasure, our own sense of validation and virility so that we can brag to our friends that we “beat the pussy up” and made our partner cum X number of times. There is nothing wrong with finding pleasure in a job well done. Using another’s pleasure purely as a means to the end of your own though flows from the same corrupt well that DJ Khaled’s refusal to pleasure his partner comes from.

That’s where love comes in, a deep feeling of affection for the person you’re fucking. An expansive idea that allows you to open your heart to the person you’ll be sharing your body with, even if it’s only for that one time. I had a conversation with a friend about relationships. She told me that she’d had random hookups, but never had a boyfriend and that she wanted one. We’ve all been in that position before, of settling for less than what we want romantically and making do. Yet there’s nothing which prevents us from giving and receiving love even in those hookups, except for ideas about who is worthy of love and in what context. The selfishness of defining pleasure so narrowly as to exclude the feelings of the person you’re experiencing it with borders on cruelty. It’s a cruelty that we’ve codified and reinforced through various means- double standards based on worth, proscribing the behavior of women as prudish or whorish, and on and on. At base though is men’s refusal to love women, distilled into the refusal to pleasure them independently of what we get out of it. If love is reserved only for women who “act right”, then it’s not really love. It’s power masquerading as such.

Love is touching someone not only so that you can feel them, but also so that they can feel you. Respecting that a woman wants the same feelings and has assumed the same risks as you. Love is an expression of intent to care for someone, wholly, in whatever amount of time you will be together for. If you can’t put your egotistical bullshit aside long enough to eat your partner’s pussy for their sake, then you don’t love her. And if you don’t love the woman you’re fucking, why are you fucking her? Again, that doesn’t mean only fuck women you love, it means love the woman you’re fucking, no matter the context.

Share This:

Leave a Reply