Girl on the Net

The following piece discusses submersion in water, in a BDSM context (well, it’s called ‘underwater blow job’ so you probably know that already). Please don’t read if that’s likely to disturb you. And if you’re thinking you want to do this kind of thing – read up on the risks and discuss in a lot of detail with your partner first. 

“We’ll get you a nose clip.”

That’s not where it started; that’s where it started getting serious. When the desire for water – pressure, fear – grew from a small spark of interest to a roaring fire of obsession.

I wanted him to fuck my face underwater.

I’ve always enjoyed being in water. Not the exercise part – swimming plodding breast stroke up and down the pool for hours on end is slow enough that it sends me into a panic. I just like playing. Being in water – splashing around, wrapping my legs round his waist and playfully almost-fucking in the sea. Sitting in the bath while he sits on the floor beside me, arm draped into the bathtub and casually rubbing at my clit.

Sex in the water is difficult, though. Bath sex is cramped and the wetness washes away my natural lubricant, meaning a bathtime fuck is about as pleasurable as a romp in the Sahara desert. What’s more, shagging in pools and hot tubs risks introducing bacteria into places where you seriously don’t want the wrong kind of bacteria.

So this isn’t a how-to. It’s not a recommendation. It’s a story about some things I did, and I don’t mind if you think that my doing them was a bad idea.

Underwater breath control

I’ve always been fascinated by breath play, but the first time I understood how water could be used was when I was at University. A guy ran the hot and cold taps into the sink to make a tepid pool to hold my face in. Naked, horny, desperate for the kind of fear-inducing power-play he could nail when he got in the mood, I bent face-first over the sink.

As he fucked me, he occasionally pushed my face into the water. Holding the back of my neck with a gentle, firm pressure, he shoved his dick into me. My cries of delight were just bubbles on the surface of the water. When I tapped him, he’d release and I’d come gasping up for air.

One second… two… then back into the water again. The longer it was since I took my last breath, the tighter I’d clamp my cunt round his dick, and the harder he’d fuck me – taking care not to hit my twitching head on the taps.

Underwater blow job – training

More recently: the nose clip.

The nose clip is there to prevent water pouring up my nose and choking me.

The nose clip is there so that he can shove my head roughly underwater and push his dick into my mouth.

The nose clip is there because we practiced the underwater blow job over and over, until we worked out which tools we needed to get it right.

Breathe in. 

When you’re sucking dick underwater, the most important thing is the seal. Creating a tight ring with your lips around the shaft of his cock, and enough suction that the seal doesn’t break. If the seal breaks: water pours in. Gushing in at the gaps and filling your cheeks with chlorinated water.

The first time I tried to give him an underwater blow job, just the act of pushing my head beneath the surface filled my nostrils and mouth. I had taken a deep breath, but couldn’t hold it against the rising panic of water pouring in.

I tapped him, he pulled me up.

Panting, grinning, eyes streaming and hair hanging limply in my face, I declared:

“OK. Let’s go again.”

Breathe in. 

Before the seal, the important thing is the breath. That chest-bursting lungful of air that has to last as long as possible. 30 seconds? 45?

I don’t know how long I can hold my breath – I haven’t timed it. But I can guess that the second time I did it lasted longer than the first. And the third time longer after that. As I learned how to make the seal, and got used to the sensations, I understood instinctively just how quickly it would be from my tapping out to the moment my head would break the surface of the water… I could push it a bit further.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Hold your breath.”

Breathe in.

And as I close my lips he pushes my shoulders and my head down – the water adds buoyancy, you see, and one of the trickiest things is not floating to the surface. Finding something to brace yourself on so you don’t end up suspended at the top.

He braces himself against a rail, and I wrap my arms around his thighs. Clamping the tight seal of my lips around his dick. Moving slowly at first, keeping the seal in tact. Working the head of his cock with my tongue and feeling that single lungful of air start to burn inside my chest.

I move further down. Taking the whole length of him into the back of my throat. Sucking him deeper, but keeping balanced, because I know that if I choke this phase is up, and I’ll have to come spluttering to the surface of the water.

I don’t want to come up. But a quick, short thrust from him and I’ve lost it – water starts pouring in, and I tap.

Coughing, choking, gasping and…

“Again.” I tell him. “More fucking this time. I can get it. I can do it.”

Breathe in.

Down I go, and this time I grip his thighs tighter. He holds my shoulders down with one arm, fighting the water which tries to shove me back to the surface.

With one arm and one leg braced so he can stay in position, he starts to fuck my throat.

In. Out. In. Out. Chest burning, eyes shut, hands clamped tightly round his thighs to draw him in closer…

Underwater, I can’t hear anything. The water fills my ears and nose and eyes. Like sensory deprivation, it only highlights the sensation of his dick pulsing against the back of my throat.

Harder. Faster. I almost tap-out when the seal breaks, but I want to go further. I want to stay and see if I can work this thing out: if I can keep sucking cock while the water rushes in, swirling round my mouth and fighting me for control over what he’s feeling.

In. Out. Choke. Splutter. Tap, and up again.

Breathe.

“Do you like that?” he asks me.

“Ach,” I cough. Then I spit over the side – a great mouthful of chlorine and saliva and precum and joy. “Yes. I like it … ach … fucking loads.”

He pushes the strings of wet hair away from my face, and squeezes my jaw till I’m half-pouting and half-gaping at him.

“You’ve got a dirty fucking mouth.”

“Yes.” I look up, still panting. Still trying to make up for the deficit of air I’ve been running on for half an hour. Desperately hoping that he liked it too. That we can play more with this sensation – the underwater blow job. That weird, wet silence beneath the surface of the pool, combined with the frenetic whoosh and swirl of water trying to choke me through the nose and mouth.

“I’d do it better,” I explained, “if I didn’t have the water coming in through my nose. I wanted to do better. I wanted to stay longer. I… I think I could do it much more.”

And he pulled me into a wet, slippery hug – still braced in position so we didn’t float away – and with his rock-hard dick digging tight against my thigh he whispered ‘don’t worry’ in my ear.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get you a nose clip.”

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