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FETISHES
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FETISHES If I were to be asked to define fetish I’d say that it could be an object believed to be magical; quite often based on religious or other belief or culture alternatively it could be an obsession (reverence if you will) with something but mostly I believe it to be an object that becomes a sexual object this would include but not limited too certain body parts like feet. I know way too many people who will describe a fetish as a fixation and obsessive preoccupation with something that should be frowned upon. You won’t easily find these people on sites such as this. In my personal view these people don’t laugh easily and they go through life pointing fingers at others. I have never been in the BDSM scene – probably not so much by choice than by lack of opportunity or perhaps more vanilla inclined partners. This excludes the irregular requests by Desiree (who in the true sense of the Neill Diamond song with similar title was a bit older than I am and she was in a position of authority) to rough it up a bit. By this I took it to mean an extra hard nipple tweak, playing harder with her breasts, the odd slap on her lovely bare ass or perhaps in bending her legs back hard and far then really start pounding into her pussy – hard and unrelenting until she begged me to stop. Her pussy would forever make me think of a young rose with those incredibly well defined lips. Instinctively I knew that this was not because of a desire to be dominated but rather a need to have it rough – on her own terms. It was also an indication to me that she trusted me. I do not view this as a fetish in terms of my definition. Sharon however has something about hands. Like most people would convey their urges, wants or needs by means of a kiss Sharon uses her hands…. Or mine. Sometimes during conversation she stops mid - sentence; looking visibly distracted grab my hand and start massaging it, play with my fingers or even simply staring at our hands without saying a word. The intensity or urgency of these actions is a very clear communication of her exact thoughts. Once during dinner in a very upmarket restaurant with friends and colleagues she simply grabbed my hand, pulled me from the table and said in my ear (not so silent either!”: “I want to be fucked good NOW!” This was an order to be obeyed at all costs….the bathrooms weren’t conducive; the car was too far away so the alley behind the restaurant’s kitchen had to suffice. We still smile about the fact that that we only smelled the dustbins after we finished and upon our return to the table every one was gaping but didn’t say a word until all the ladies flocked to the bathroom like they sometimes do…they came back flushed. In their absence John simply lifted his glass and toasted me. I felt good. Sharon’s hands are also a very good indication of the intensity of imminent orgasms. I once jokingly said it looked as if she was directing traffic….still don’t know if she liked the remark or not. I think its safe to say Sharon has a hand fetish….? |
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