Pulp It Like It’s Hot: The Day My Gag Reflex Died
I have this peculiar ability to deep-throat a banana. I discovered it sometime in middle school and it kind of became my thing. Someone would present me with a banana, and I’d perform the party trick: peel the skin off, open my mouth, and slide the shaft of the banana down my throat until my eyes watered and my lips could just about close around the end of it. Voila!
I was old enough to know exactly what this ability suggested, and young enough to think that putting an actual penis in my mouth was repulsive.
The fun part was pretending I was a born cocksucker, as if my body had evolved expressly to provide male pleasure even though nobody had even kissed me yet.
“I have no gag reflex!” I’d laugh.
Turns out I do indeed have a gag reflex, and this is the story of how I discovered it.
Let’s call him Zach. He was the first boy whose body I noticed. Before him my crushes had soft round faces and doughy hands with dirty fingernails. But Zach had angles — in his face, in the lean muscles of his arms. He had a long nose and narrow eyes. He sat at the back of the bus with the older kids even in sixth grade, and from his seat he’d look around…
