Innocence is Bliss
"So. Do you know what a blow job is?" he grinned.
The rest of my friends had gone into Dunkin' Donuts to buy a donut for the ride home (I always got those ones with the strawberry jelly filling and the sugary outside) so I didn't have anyone to turn to for backup. And, of course, being 12, I didn't know I could just ignore him and walk away.
I can't remember what I said to him, but I remember him laughing at me and asking me if I knew why it was called a blow job when it wasn't about blowing at all.
I found the whole thing terribly embarrassing and humiliating, but I've never been sure if it was because I didn't know what he was talking about or because I thought I should know what he was talking about.
Either way, it was far too young to have to start to wondering why it was called a blow job if there really wasn't any blowing going on and, what, exactly, was the reason anyone would want to do that anyway? I was pretty sure it was only something prostitutes would do.
I mean, seriously. Who'd do *that* on purpose, right?