© Sauce*Box, Summer 1996.
All rights revert to author.
sex: part II of the Fuctung Trilogy
by Neil
Forrester
Prologue
Rock'n'Roll, a funny game. For me the most interesting part is the audience performer divide. It's such a tempting boundary to transgress, each side pushing at it, testing it, teasing it, but never quite breaking through - until this time. Some would say I was asking for it, I dispute that, but for the record the story goes something like this. He was heckling, testing my mettle. I decided to test his in return. I kissed him. He bit me. I nearly lost half my tongue. A dozen stitches and six weeks on a liquid diet and I recovered, to a degree, however it was a scary time, a time for a great deal of reflection. Here are a some of the thoughts that crossed my mind during that time...
Sex - 10th March 1995
The kiss is at once personal and casual, intimate and detatched. Prostitutes, we are led to believe, indulge in intercourse without the kiss, precisely for this reason. The kiss is somehow more intimate than the sexual act itself. Since my injury was inflicted by a kiss, the impairment occurs precisely over the surface of the tongue involved in the act of kissing. Indeed there remains a possibility that sensation may never return. I am effectively divorced from the pleasures of kiss. Forced into the domain of absolute altruism. I will kiss, only for the other, no longer for myself...
It is believed that the kiss originated as a method of passing food from one individual to another - the first communication, the first intimate socialisation. Now the kiss is the ultimate in communication, the pinacle of the lovers touch, telling everything and nothing, passing love and lust directly from one to the other. Have you ever tried sex without kissing? The act is different, lessened, certain aspects negated even. It is the essential part of any sexual encounter - the prelude and the aftermath, not to mention the catalyst of the act itself. To make love without kissing is akin to masturbation, the intimacy is gone, the communication is gone - one is left with only the base signals from the genitalia and the secondary sensations of the surface of the body. One no longer makes love, nor even `fucks' - one simply `has sex' - carries out the motions of reproduction like a mormon (though without the added frission of guilt).
Even assuming that the musculature returns to normal - without sensation I can never be kissed, I can only kiss. Indulging only in secondary labial pleasures. Indeed the tongue is the most intimate and sensitive part of the body in such situations. A good kiss is infinitely more rewarding than even the greatest fellatio. The penis feels only the sensations required to gradually build from erection to orgasm. The tongue however delights in such subtleties of sensation that one could kiss a lover forever without fear of repetition.
The intricate sensorial and proprioceptive properties of the surface and body of the tongue make it both the medium and the message, the primary interface between one lovers body and another. I have learned more of my partners sexual response through the tip of my tongue than ever through my penis or fingertips.
The sensory cortex of the brain maps the body's surface completely, however the more sensitive the area, the more cortex is assigned to it. The largest areas are dedicated to the genitalia and the tongue and lips. After my eyes and ears, my brain looks to my dick and to my mouth for information. Part of this is now redundant, the channel of communication crippled and mute, deaf and blinded.
Currently I am partially healed. I have a viable piece of flesh - an approximation of the original organ physically, but crippled as a sensory device. I cannot extend my tongue to kiss, I cannot feel the touch of anothers' tongue dancing on the surface of mine. I could remain this way forever.
Epilogue
It is now 14 months later. It's as good as it's ever going to get. I have no localised sensation, just a vague 'feeling' when I make contact. No sense of temperature - eating ice-cream is a bizarre experience - and a diminished taste of salt. I underwent a 'lingual frenectory' about 6 months ago, to free up the organ from the floor of the mouth (yeah, just like Gene Simmons) and can now extend my tongue a little more than before. I enjoy kissing, though I can't help thinking it's not the same as it used to be. Cunnilingus is as great a pleasure as ever, though I'm reliant more on memory and direct feedback these days.
Still it made for great TV, didn't it...?
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