Why is There so Much Swallowing?

Have you noticed that everyone swallows in male/male romance novels? Without discussion, without preamble, without a hint of revulsion, they gulp it all down and lick their lips in appreciation.

I don’t know about you, but I have never.

My friends and I talk about this often: I’d have to be in love. It would have to be someone that I loved and trusted. It would have to be a long-term relationship. My friends understand that sex is spectrum to be navigated as the relationship develops both physically and emotionally.

Please understand: there isn’t a set of circumstances on this mortal plane of existence to prompt me to swallow a man’s semen. Nor is he going to finish his business on my back my on my stomach, on my face, in my hair, on my arm, or in my hand. You may finish on this moist towel I have left on the other side of the room. You may finish in your own hand. You may even finish in the bathroom. But you can’t finish on me or in me. I’m extreme.

My friends are not. They are reasonable people. They make allowances for mistakes. They’ll swallow if they really, really like you. They’ll let you come on their stomachs if they think there’s a chance you’ll all back the next day, if they’ve known you for several months, and even then, only once.

Explain to me why it is that in male/male romance novels, the protagonist drops to their knees and begs to be inundated with an ocean of semen. Explain to me why there is no negotiation about where and how bodily fluids are going to go? I know that we’re not a monolith, but Jesus, some of us aren’t into cum play. Many of us are not. MANY. OF. US. ARE. NOT.

There’s just so much of it. Reading romance novels, the moment I arrive at the oral scene, I know how it will end. It will end with a face shot. Or that gross tongue thing, where they lick it off each other’s bodies. Or they’ll roll around in it like a couple of self-satisfied dogs trotting through mud, spreading it everywhere.

You have got to be kidding me.

Perhaps you are not aware of this. Perhaps you think all men have this sexual fantasy to be coated in semen from head to toe and to make protein shakes of it. And I don’t profess to speak for all gay men. But it needs to be said. There’s too much swallowing in gay fiction. TOO MUCH. Certainly, gulping it down on your first date, before you’ve even ascertained the other person’s name, let alone STD status—this is another thing. Gay men worry about more than just HIV. Like, herpes. Chlamydia. Syphilis. And they are just WALLOWING IN IT.

Stop.

Not every oral scene has to end with licking it up and “drinking every last drop.”

And can we please talk about this “volley after volley.” We aren’t geysers. You can’t pressure wash your wall with someone’s orgasm. I think some of you need to recalibrate your expectations of the male orgasm. It’s disgusting.

The next time you’re tempted to write that character on their knees, begging to get their throats painted, maybe ask yourself—would you swallow? WOULD YOU? Would you at least like to discuss it?

You know what, no, I have a word on my spirit about that.

It’s not a casual thing when a man finishes in your mouth without giving you some warning. It’s startling. It’s frustrating. It’s disorienting. Some people get -mad- at about it. But in your novels, m/m community, everyone’s so casual and cavalier about it. “It’s fine, babe. I loved it.” GURL, WHERE. RECEIPTS.

How would you like it if someone did that to you? You’re probably thinking, “Oh, that’d be kind of hot.” THAT’S BECAUSE IT HASN’T HAPPENED TO YOU. It’s not a compliment. It’s gross. GROSS.

Clean up your act.