• Wed, Apr 4 2012

Dating Hijinks: The Armpit Guy

On Wednesdays, Amanda Chatel will be sharing stories about her strange, fascinating and sometimes wonderful dating life. If it makes you want to date, check out TheGloss dating page

E was one of those men you stumble upon every once in a while who definitely had his, um, shortcomings. Unlike most men who might suffer from such an issue, E was well aware and discussed his lack of endowment to the point of it being uncomfortable. He joked that he had tried different avenues to “fix” it, but as with many advertisements that make impossible promises, he came up empty. It’s a fact of life that you can’t grow back your hair with a foam and you can’t gain a few inches on your penis with pills. It is what it is and it’s best to deal or make up for it in other ways. E made up for it by not only having a gifted tongue, but by being a bit on the kinky side, too. However, we all have a different idea of what constitutes kinky and what’s just straight up weird.

We’d been dating for a couple weeks when I slept with him for the first time, and it was just under a month’s worth of dates when I awoke to him feverishly lapping at my armpit as if he was a dog and my underarm was a supplier of mass amounts of Alpo. I had been dead asleep and while in the past I had woken up to a gentleman trying to have sex with me (the danger of sleeping in a fella’s bed), this behavior was completely new to me. I jerked away and asked him what he was doing. He explained that I smelled so good and he had wanted to do it since we first met. Of course, I smelled good! It’s called Dove deodorant and smells like spring flowers or whatever fancy shit the label says.

“Does deodorant taste good to you?” I asked as I got out of bed and stood in front of him wrapped in his sheet.

“I can’t taste it. I can only taste you,” he answered. There was a part of me that was throwing up a bit in my mouth and I focused on my throat so I wouldn’t insult him with a natural gag reaction. “Come back and let me do it again.”

“No. I don’t want someone sticking their tongue in certain parts of my body, and my armpit is one of them,” I snapped.

“But it’s so soft and clean,” he said smiling in what I now recall as a creepy sort of way.

“Yeah, it’s called electrolysis and deodorant!” I dropped the sheet to the floor, got dressed and headed home.

From the beginning, I knew E was a transition fella so I wasn’t about to get my panties in a twist over his weird penchant for licking armpits. We all have our fetishes, and although I appear to be lacking in that area, I couldn’t exactly judge him because of it. As long as it doesn’t involve shit or piss, my mentality is more power to you in whatever gets you off. A few days later I agreed to go to dinner with him and put the whole licking of the armpit thing behind us. I had made it clear that I wasn’t into it so I thought we could evolve past it. Besides, there must be plenty of girls who would like such a thing, and I’m sure he’d find them someday. After dinner I went back to his apartment — he had cable, I did not.

It was about 4am when I awoke, once again, to E licking the shit out of my armpit as if it was his last meal on earth. Had we not covered this? I smacked his head away from me and yelled at him to get control. Again he explained how much he loved it and just wanted to please me. I lept out of his bed, got dressed, and told him to go looking elsewhere for a lady friend who would enjoy having her pit covered in saliva. I wasn’t about to get woken up in the middle of the night by him and his armpit-hungry tongue for however long our casual thing was going to last.

Out of boredom, I’d see him a couple more times where he managed to keep his tongue away from my underarm, even when I was asleep (I think.) However, I was finally forced to throw in the towel not long afterward when he insisted I give him a handjob with my feet — which I guess would technically be a footjob. While I’ve met people since then where I could have done that as a joke, he and I didn’t laugh enough together for anything outside of missionary to be even remotely possible. I’ve learned that if you can’t laugh both in and out of the bedroom, there’s really no point. Licking an armpit is really funny, and if you can’t laugh at it — no matter how much you love it — then it sort of defeats the purpose of truly enjoying yourself.

Much to my relief, no one has tried to lick my armpit since.

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  • Ashley

    This is OUT of control!!! Eeek- gross. Ashley of singleforareason.com

  • citygirl22

    Haha, I’m not sure what’s funnier – your reaction (smacking him upside the head at 4am) or the fact that I experienced the same thing (armpitt fetish man). In my senior year of college, I met and fell in love with a foreign exchange graduate student from the UK, with looks that were literally worth dying for (nearly everyone of my past bf’s were all very good looking and popular, but no one compared to this particular man.. Objectively speaking, he was on par with Brad Pitt and Gerard Butler (yet I’d say even better looking, and even had a sexier accent!). It was no suprise to me when I later found out (after simply googling his name lol) that he was quite and well-known and successful model represented by one of the top agencies in the UK. Besides his looks, his height of 6’5, his GQ style, and the body of a Greek god (I kid you not), he also happened to have an incredibly lovable personality – with the charm, charisma, kindness, and generosity that would make you fall in love even if his looks weren’t as dashing as they Truly were. He was Perfect.. and although he was my first true one night stand (and first actual guy I even slept with, considering I had previously been waiting for someone I was serious with…but then he came along and ruined that haha).. We ran into each other once more months later on his last night in the US.. so perhaps call it a “two night stand”, if you will.. Nonetheless, I truly fell in love with the person he was, despite onlyy spending a brief time with each other, I couldn’t help but become enamored with the creature that he was. And “creature” he sure was, as well… Mr. Perfect himself -the man who spoke, walked, talked, dressed, Looked, Acted, Moved Perfectly – had a terrible armpit fetish!!! He spent time on me in places around my body, but with the feirce suck of an octopus squeezing the very last drop of juice out of its prey -and like tentacles, his mouth Stuckk to any which bodyparts he paid attention to – my armpits being his particular favorite. My body was literally RAW like Sashimi once he got done with me… And the energy of an Energizer bunny to back it up, his power lasted for hours on end, only to heighten in intensity as the night went on.. Ah but the memories.. Yes in retrospect – GROSS – but if you truly love the guy (and for me, as superficial as it sounds, yes I loved him solely because he was Picture Perfect), but..bottom line, I admired every inch of his whole being, that despite the shock and confusion of the surprising demands to lick my armpits drier than the Sahara desert, I readily accepted his quirky desire, simply because I readily accepted him.. So with that, I leave with you the intimate details of my most cherished and favorite memory, and perhaps wonder if you too might have readily accepted this gruesomingly abnormal behavior had you truly admired the man for who he was… Armpits or no armpits, perhaps its the man himself who can either make or break the desirability of a fetish … :)

    (That said, I kinda hope I never get my armpit licked again…)

    Cheers! :)