There seems to be this new sexual movement of not only eating tons of *ss, but also judging those who don’t. I didn’t realize that, just because I don’t feel like getting E. coli poisoning meant I was a prude. I’ve experimented with same sex stuff though I’m a straight woman, I’ve used toys, and I’ve had my share of fun out there, yet suddenly—evidently—I’m as tight-laced as a nun because I won’t put my mouth directly on the place that releases the same stuff we spend the rest of our life and days avoiding. Restaurant employees can get sued for not washing their hands after using the bathroom and full states have to stop exporting certain vegetables over feces contamination but yet, here we are, fetishizing licking the area that produces it. Look, I don’t toss salad, and here’s why you can’t judge me for it.
I don’t want it in return
First and foremost, I understand it would be selfish if I refused to do something that I want done to me in return. So, for the record, I don’t want anyone eating my *ss. I’ve never asked for it. When offered it, I turned it down.