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But just like any activity that involves the removal of clothes, they also leave the potential for some truly gross things to happen. It goes without saying that just about any form of sexual activity leaves the door wide open for strange noises, smells, and substances to appear without warning, and hand jobs are no exception to the rule.

While different people have different thresholds for what they consider "gross," most of us aren't going to jump at the opportunity to slather our skin in semen or daintily twirl a lock of sweaty scrotum hair around our finger.

Even though most of the awkward things that happen during sex are a lot more normal than you might think , they can still make us scrunch up our noses no matter how open-minded we are.

Even though we may try to love everything that our partner's body does during sexy time, there are some things that are harder to adore and stomach than others when it comes time for the hottest form of manual labor.

If you get more than a little grossed out when these things happen while giving your partner a hand job, don't worry — you're definitely not alone.

The scent of semen that's been marinating in sweaty boxers all day is a distinct one indeed. While giving a hand job instead of a blow job ensures that your face doesn't have to be all up the aroma, the hand-on-penis friction has the effect of a particularly stinky scratch 'n sniff.

It encourages the sweat, dead skin cells, and who-knows-what-else to break-free from their place between your partner's legs and relocate to your nostrils.

You might think that a handy is the safest route to take when it comes to avoiding that stale scent, but unless your partner took a shower right before dropping their pants, you could be wrong.

Remember back in grade school when you'd get glue on your hands, so you'd rub them together until it dried up? Giving hand jobs with pre-cum is like the adult version of that.

The clear, sticky liquid is fine on its own and provides an extra bit of lubricant, but if you're working with just skin on skin, it might start to get icky on you.

The air and friction work together to dry it up, making it just sticky enough to make you feel slightly uncomfortable.

And then, if things don't get wet enough in time, it'll start to roll up into tiny pieces that either stick to your hands or your partner's penis or it falls off onto the sheets.

It's basic chemistry: pre-cum is way more appealing in liquid form. Whether you use synthetic lubricant or rely on bodily fluids to get things moving, it's only a matter of time before something gets stuck to either you or your partner and forces a pause in the action.

Even if you start out with perfectly clean hands and genitals, that tiny piece of dirt that somehow got onto the sheets or that extra-long hair that managed to make its way from your head to your partner's crotch is going to find a way to join in on the fun.

At the very least, finding something that shouldn't be there is usually enough to prompt a brief, but awkward moment while you try to pick it off without scratching or pinching any important body parts.

I think he came three times within a short amount of time from touching alone. He gave me plenty oral sex, and I jerked him off, on and off, for a good four-to-five hours.

I think at least a liter of cum was ejected from him within that short period of time. Some people say handjobs are out of style, but I sure enjoy being fingered; handjobs are just a part of the "treat others the way you'd like the be treated" principle.

Bonnie I gave handjobs when I was pregnant because I was too tired to have sex and my husband wouldn't leave me the fuck alone.

Sandra I like giving handjobs. Often we've already slept together, and the men tell me they haven't come from a handjob since high school.

I take this as a challenge, and soon enough their minds are blown. Brent I was having a really shitty week. I was coming back to real-life responsibilities from a super fun week out in Oakland.

I got bored while I was waiting on my bag at the airport, so I started Tindering. My first swipe right was a match, and she wanted to meet up that night.

I was tired and bummed out, but she suggested we get high and watch Mrs. Doubtfire in tribute to Robin Williams passing, so I was in.

I showed up at her apartment with the DVD only to find that she didn't have any weed. She did have some Fig Newtons, though, so I just kinda ate those.

Right around the "run-by fruiting" scene at the pool, we started making out on the couch. She didn't want to freak her roommates out and suggested we go to her room, which I was all about.

We started undressing. She got a big smile on her face and said we didn't have to [have sex], but that she wanted to do something special for me. Maybe it was dumb of me to assume it was going to be oral or something, but nothing prepared me for what happened next: She started to jerk me off over my underwear.

I wasn't sure what to do. There I was, a grown man, getting a dry handjob. It didn't feel bad or anything—it was just really confusing, especially because she kept saying stuff like, "Yeah How does that feel?

I was prepared to reciprocate somehow, but she didn't want me to and called me an Uber. I got my Mrs. Doubtfire DVD and went home, still confused about what had just happened.

Steve The last time I got a handjob to completion I was on tour. On the way to a show in western Massachusetts we stopped at a thrift store. I bought this shirt with a huge bedazzled picture of Michael Jackson and the words "King of Pop" on it.

I thought it would be funny to wear for the show that night. After the show, a couple of us went to a bar with our friends who are in a local band.

On the way there, I hit it off with one of their friends. I had been snorting Adderall all day and barely eating, so I completely misjudged how much I was drinking and got wasted to the brink of blacking out.

I got in a drunken fight with my best friend that ended with us rolling around in the street and him tearing my newly acquired shirt.

While giving a hand job instead of a blow job ensures that your face doesn't have to be all up the aroma, the hand-on-penis friction has the effect of a particularly stinky scratch 'n sniff.

It encourages the sweat, dead skin cells, and who-knows-what-else to break-free from their place between your partner's legs and relocate to your nostrils.

You might think that a handy is the safest route to take when it comes to avoiding that stale scent, but unless your partner took a shower right before dropping their pants, you could be wrong.

Remember back in grade school when you'd get glue on your hands, so you'd rub them together until it dried up? Giving hand jobs with pre-cum is like the adult version of that.

The clear, sticky liquid is fine on its own and provides an extra bit of lubricant, but if you're working with just skin on skin, it might start to get icky on you.

The air and friction work together to dry it up, making it just sticky enough to make you feel slightly uncomfortable. And then, if things don't get wet enough in time, it'll start to roll up into tiny pieces that either stick to your hands or your partner's penis or it falls off onto the sheets.

It's basic chemistry: pre-cum is way more appealing in liquid form. Whether you use synthetic lubricant or rely on bodily fluids to get things moving, it's only a matter of time before something gets stuck to either you or your partner and forces a pause in the action.

Even if you start out with perfectly clean hands and genitals, that tiny piece of dirt that somehow got onto the sheets or that extra-long hair that managed to make its way from your head to your partner's crotch is going to find a way to join in on the fun.

At the very least, finding something that shouldn't be there is usually enough to prompt a brief, but awkward moment while you try to pick it off without scratching or pinching any important body parts.

At the most, it can leave your partner howling in pain while they dry to dislodge a crumb from beneath their foreskin.

In porn, it's no biggie when semen goes everywhere. But when the stuff gets on your pillow, it's a bit different. You don't have a clean-up crew to get things all wiped up and sanitized, and if you miss a spot, you might end encountering some ants and fruit flies who decided that they needed to up their protein intake.

Obviously, if you're planning on helping your partner achieve an orgasm, you should expect the significant amount of bodily fluids that normally come with it.

But that doesn't change the fact that semen is way, way less appealing when it's sitting in a gloopy puddle on your floor.

Semen definitely isn't the worst thing that can come out of a human body, but that doesn't make it any less gross when you think about how much sperm has died on your bedroom doorknob or bathroom light switch.

I got bored while I was waiting on my bag at the airport, so I started Tindering. My first swipe right was a match, and she wanted to meet up that night.

I was tired and bummed out, but she suggested we get high and watch Mrs. Doubtfire in tribute to Robin Williams passing, so I was in.

I showed up at her apartment with the DVD only to find that she didn't have any weed. She did have some Fig Newtons, though, so I just kinda ate those.

Right around the "run-by fruiting" scene at the pool, we started making out on the couch. She didn't want to freak her roommates out and suggested we go to her room, which I was all about.

We started undressing. She got a big smile on her face and said we didn't have to [have sex], but that she wanted to do something special for me. Maybe it was dumb of me to assume it was going to be oral or something, but nothing prepared me for what happened next: She started to jerk me off over my underwear.

I wasn't sure what to do. There I was, a grown man, getting a dry handjob. It didn't feel bad or anything—it was just really confusing, especially because she kept saying stuff like, "Yeah How does that feel?

I was prepared to reciprocate somehow, but she didn't want me to and called me an Uber. I got my Mrs. Doubtfire DVD and went home, still confused about what had just happened.

Steve The last time I got a handjob to completion I was on tour. On the way to a show in western Massachusetts we stopped at a thrift store.

I bought this shirt with a huge bedazzled picture of Michael Jackson and the words "King of Pop" on it. I thought it would be funny to wear for the show that night.

After the show, a couple of us went to a bar with our friends who are in a local band. On the way there, I hit it off with one of their friends.

I had been snorting Adderall all day and barely eating, so I completely misjudged how much I was drinking and got wasted to the brink of blacking out.

I got in a drunken fight with my best friend that ended with us rolling around in the street and him tearing my newly acquired shirt. I momentarily blacked out and got lost and had to drunkenly find my way back to the house we were staying at, which somehow resulted in the shirt getting torn even more, to the point where it wasn't even covering most of my chest.

When I finally found the house, I had sobered up for the most part and was pleasantly surprised to find the girl I'd hit it off with earlier still hanging out there.

We stayed up flirting and smoking cigarettes after everyone else went to sleep, her teasing me with the fact that I obviously wanted to fuck her but she had a boyfriend.

I just tried to seem as moody and sexy as possible. We ended up deciding to cuddle in an empty bed but not fool around, on account of the aforementioned boyfriend.

This of course turned into us with our pants off doing everything other than fucking until the sun came up.

She gave me one of the sexiest handjobs I've ever had, and I came all over my torn-up shirt. We made out for a little while longer, and then as I heard my bandmates beginning to wake up, I snuck out to the street and threw the shredded, cum-covered, bejeweled Michael Jackson shirt in the trash.

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