His Love Language is ‘Blow Job’
I want my love to love me like I want to be loved. The least I can do is the same in return.
My husband told me a particular blow job made his love for me “up-level.”
I knew why — nothing made him feel more appreciated than attention directed toward his dick, and his dick alone. But I asked him to explain himself anyway because affirmation is what I crave.
He knew this, which is why he sat down to explain how it felt like there was this whole other world above his head that he suddenly realized existed all along — and I ate up his love-as-second-language.
I knew BJs were medicinal to him, but I didn't appreciate their incomparable effect on his heart until an argument about the number of blowjobs he got. I thought he received far beyond average. But I learned, to him, some oral didn’t count toward ‘the count.’
Starter blowjobs — done as foreplay, to elicit a hard-on for intercourse — were appreciated, but didn't feed a sense of love. Mutually satisfying sex contributed to our love, but it wasn’t the same.
At first I was too indignant to listen. I felt my efforts were dismissed. Then my self-centering in a conversation about his love preferences offended him, too. We both just wanted acknowledgement. With time, we both noticed that.
Now, I know how cups of tea make him feel loved, but they're like water (or, technically, as he also taught me, tea is more hydrating than water). What he really craves is to have his bodily needs noticed, and tended to, sloppily.
If we called it ‘acts of service,’ he’d be left dissatisfied. The five love languages are not one-size-fits-all, but what they teach is useful. We all love differently. Understanding how your love wants to be loved, and loving them that way, makes everyone feel more loved. Or, as my husband says, ‘up-leveled’ love.
And since I love him, I want him to feel loved. And since I know how, I do. And when he says one in particular was transcendental, I not only listen to the affirmation, I ask for specifics so I may better love him, again.
That particular enlightenment went like this:
I said, “I remember kneeling before you thinking I was going to suck your whole soul out of you. Could you tell?”
He said, “Now that is turning me on.”
Then I laughed, and said, “Tell me what you remember.”
