Oral

They live just off Jervois Road, so after sampling a few bars, we went back to their place and continued drinking highly potent bellinis. She is frighteningly smart (a rapid rise up the ladder in a top firm), and quite attractive. Thus we have all wondered how and why she ended up with such a complete loser as G.

He comes from a reasonable sort of family, had a fairly decent education, but has no money - what he did have, he gambled away. G is deeply in debt, which she is helping him "sort out" which transparently means she is paying them off, and she even had to buy her own engagement ring. She also finds suspicious receipts in his pockets, of which she says nothing to him, but tells her best friend, who, naturally, tells us.

What else were we to assume, but that he must be a gold medallist in bed gymnastics, as there could be no other reason she would put up with him. Until I discovered how wrong we were.

Many (many) bellinis later, it was time to go home. We staggered out to the waiting taxis, myself last. G followed. As the others turned a corner, he slipped an arm around my waist, pulled me to him, and proceeded to kiss me.

I have often thought that how a man kisses, generalises to his oral technique for … another location. There needs to be a building of intensity – an initial teasing sweetness that develops (if appropriate and reciprocated) to a Bacchanalian mouth-party.

Note: The etiquette of tongue is that it should wait to be introduced, not rushing forward like a cruise missile before the lips have even met. It gives one rather a fright.

G's technique however, was not entirely dissimilar to what one might expect of a washing-machine. The tongue went straight in, and around and around it went like my teeth were on the spin cycle. I wished I had a load of laundry in there. It was horrid, and I told him so in the sharpest, cut-glass tone possible, pushed him away, and left.

So. No money, no oral technique. Why is she going out with him?