Blowjob Gone Awry

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The email said

“Where did we go wrong Suzie? Tell me… Was it something we did?”

And to some degree, it was their fault. All parents should be blamed in part for the inherent social and psychological flaws in their children. I may not be the most normal girl in town, but I’m definitely creative… and I found inspiration, and turned it into success… Why shouldn’t that be a good thing? My methods may be a little suspect, but it was my madness that lead to my methods in the first place… Thus resulting in, parental blame!

It all started when I was about to give some guy a blow job in a martini lounge one night. I was drunk, he was there, and we ended up in the storage room. Well, the BJ didn’t quite happen, because I was so distracted by the sheer peculiarity of his cock, that it was actually quite inspiring to me.

I smirked and pulled back to get a better look at it. He tried to push it closer to my face, but I backed off further and said “wait a second…. wait”

“What’s wrong?” he asked

“It’s just… your cock, it’s very ummmm, I don’t know… different.”

He looked like he wanted to die and fall beneath the surface of the earth.

“No no, it’s not UGLY” I said furthering his embarrassment “It’s actually very inspiring”.

He began abruptly doing up his pants, obviously horrified by what was coming out of my mouth (and not what he was hoping would come out). My skills in that department were probably weak at best, given the severity of my dry spell during that time. That had been the first night out for me in over a year. He said what I hear a lot… “You’re fucked, you know that? Really fucked!”

I left the Martini Lounge and ran home to develop my project. I placed an ad in the local independent paper that read as follows:

WANTED: Penis models of all shapes, sizes, colours, and girths for an art exhibition. Don’t by shy, let your penis convert from anatomy to art. Call Suzie @ 905-333-7689.

I got overwhelmed by the number of responses of willing and ready penis models who were more than happy to drop their pants for me. I set up a makeshift studio in my loft and had appointments booked for 3 weeks solid. I had all sorts of dicks come to my house; teeny ones, big ones, warped ones, veiny ones, limp ones, hard ones, shy ones, clumpy ones… it was truly spectacular. My camera was loving it.

After I finished all of my appointments I went into editing mode for several weeks and selected the best 120 penises, the ones that photographed nicely and had them custom printed on 10×10 stretched canvas.

People who came over to my house during this time were extremely uncomfortable and generally didn’t stay for very long. Of course there were the odd ones who went around looking in detail at each and every photograph. It was always a conversation piece, but there’s something about an apartment filled with 120 larger-than-life penises that makes people very uneasy. I could never tell if people were disgusted or turned on.

Finally after pitching a dozen or so galleries (many of them laughing in my face or hanging up on me) I landed an installment. It was a progressive little gallery in the distillery district. They were pretty forward thinking and risque with their art, and my art was a welcome addition to their gallery.

The installment turned out to be a huge success, I even got a write up in a few local art mags, usually a picture of me laughing or smiling grandly with a selection of penises around me.

The day came, when I knew… I had to tell my mother. Because if I didn’t, she would surely find out. With all of this press and publicity going on, one of her Bridge cronies was sure to make it a topic of conversation at their next gathering.

I chose email instead of face to face. I thought it would go over better. I tried to sugar coat it a little bit by not using the word cock, penis, or dick… I simply said “male anatomy”, which I thought sounded more professional. But still… She sent me her hard-hitting response:

“Where did we go wrong Suzie? Tell me… Was it something we did?”

I figured the best way to deal with this was to bring both her and my father down to the exhibit, give them a little bit of champagne and let them experience it. Just getting my mom to agree to talk about 120 cocks was a challenge in itself, let alone getting her to agree to look at 120 cocks.

So I set up a dinner instead.

Conveniently located beside the gallery.

At dinner we talked about trivial, meaningless, “let’s try to be a civilized family” sort of stuff. We all said please and thank you and asked questions that we didn’t really care about the answers to.

After a couple of glasses of wine I got a little bit tipsy and my internal filters began to malfunction. Suddenly I cut my dad off in a conversation about stocks and shouted “I HAVE 120 DICKS NEXT DOOR, DO YOU WANNA SEE THEM OR NOT?”

At this point my mother (also a little lubricated) burst out laughing while my father sat there stunned as restaurant onlookers felt his moment of shame.

Finally, my mother turned to my father and said “dear, maybe we should look, it is something she’s proud of, and it’s just art.”

“It’s not art, it’s pornography” he said

“It’s not like I fucked them dad, I just photographed them.”

My dad hung his head in defeat and reluctantly stated “fine… we’ll go”.

“Great!” I said enthusiastically “It’s right next door”

My dad shot back the rest of his Shiraz in one mouthful as he signed the receipt.

When we walked through the gallery, my mom smiled as several art lovers pointed, some of them commenting on my work. We came to the exhibit and both my mother and father were fascinated. Neither of them spoke for a good fifteen minutes as they traveled around from piece to piece looking at my work through the eyes that I had hoped they would see them through.

Eventually my mom looked at me straight faced and said “boy… that’s a lot of dick” and after a 5 second pause, she burst out laughing hysterically.

And I knew… she was proud of me.

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9 thoughts on “Blowjob Gone Awry

  1. There is no fucken way anything sharp or pointy is going near my pecker. Ever.
    That’s just sick.
    Pitty the person that had to put that shit in there. Yikes!

  2. Ted: Thank you, openmindedness is my middle name. I try my best to remain that way in life and fiction.

    MacBros: I think it’s called a Prince Albert… Or prince Rupert or something. I think you have to have some mild psychological problems to consider getting it done (like perhaps some childhood molestation or abuse issues). Either that or you’re just one of these dudes that gets turned on by pain. Who knows.

  3. How delicately you used the words, huge, come, came, exhibit, very long, lubricated, hung his head, burst and other words like these in your cock story. I laughed like an 11 year old in sex ed class.

    Penis… AH ha ha ha ha ha….

  4. fantastic stuff.

    when i did my artwork ‘glitternob’

    my dad went mental and he hasn’t read my blog since. but i don’t care.

    so here’s to you, selina, and let’s dream of a better world.

  5. hi, loved this piece. great writing!!! isn’t weird how somehow we’ll always seeking the approval of our parents. no matter what type of people they our. keep up the great work kiddo. love checking in on you.

  6. i was doing a piece on women and inspirations in art when i came across your piece. i write love poetry. lots of them are inspired by girls i know or have just seen on the streets or somewhere. your experience as reported is absolutely fascinating. the use you made of it brilliant. the result truly art. where may on the net may i view it? john otim

  7. it’s really nice that you accept also bad comment and don’t delete them. Anyway I’m quite overminded and i have to say that it was a great idea to convert in your art. I find this post really special!
    ciao

  8. “macbros” It’s a prince albert at least the one going through the tip, and while most people that get it have no objection to feeling a little pain, especially in the bedroom, I must say your comment about negative childhood experiences is entirely unnecessary. Not to mention I’m guessing since something as simple as a piercing through your member horrifies you, you must not be too open minded in the bedroom leading to a very bland and repetetive sex life… Food for thought..

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