I'm a blowjob interpreter for the National Security Thing. They show me sensitive tapes. People want blowjobs, but they also need reassurance. Sometimes you can't be sure of motives involved, divided loyalties, things like that. I'm the man who comes in and gives you the bad news: this blowjob is a con job. She's after something else. Or sometimes, I get to give you a happy ending of a different sort: congratulations, man. This blowjob was sincere.
Those good days are increasingly rare. My job is not one for the naive pollyanna, no job for people who want to believe in what's generous and good in all of us. But it's a job I have to do. I'm the best there is.
I look at every nuance and gesture as the act is performed. I can spot an insincere blowjob a mile off. There are all sorts of savvy indicators that I base my gut call on. Body language. Frequency and style of eye contact. Facial expression - or lack thereof.
Spit vs. swallow is not as big a tipoff as you might imagine. Some just don't care for the taste.
I have to say, ultimately? I know that there are reasons why people need to know. But for me? In my personal life?
I keep my eyes closed.
No comments:
Post a Comment