Fetish Friday Featuring Fancy Footwork

I was twenty, waiting in line at a movie theater. A lovely tall man introduced himself to me as the boy I used to play with at our bus stop back in middle school. We chatted briefly as our respective friends waited awkwardly for us to enter the building before agreeing to exchange numbers.

I wrote on the back of a grocery receipt as he called out the digits and from the corner of my eye, I thought I saw him checking out the long, bare expanse of leg between my denim mini and my strappy sandals. As I tucked the number in my purse, his voice next to my ear gave me goosebumps. "You have the sexist feet."

I scanned his face for the teasing expression I remembered from grade school. Was he playing with me by saying my feet were my most attractive feature? Was this his retribution for the time in sixth grade(before his growth spurt)when I clipped his pen to the top of the stop sign and laughed as he jumped and jumped, trying to reach it?

No, the sincerity was plainly written in his dilated pupils and parted lips. He was turned on by a high arch and slender ankle. And he was not alone.

Foot fancy is arguably the most common attraction categorized as a fetish. Sensual foot massage and toe sucking (also known as shrimping for you literacy lovers) has become as accepted a part of sex play as digital penetration and oral stimulation. And rubbing feet, kissing feet, even humping feet seems to be a down right favorite pastime for many men and women.

I've heard sex researchers theorize that it all comes down to pheromones. The feet, like the underarms and crotch, produce pheromones in the sweat. Though the precise method is unproven, mainstream science is inclined to believe that pheremones are a chemical signal to our brains encouraging reproductive behavior.

And if you'd heard the calls I have, you'd believe it. The smell is always a huge factor for foot fetishists. Whether they like the feet bare or in shoes, clean or dirty, with siren red nail polish or plain, natural toes, they all want to sniff and kiss as they worship a gal's feet.

And if a guy gets off by giving me a pedicure... hey! I'll sit patiently while he talks about licking and kissing, rubbing lotion on my heels, filing, and polishing my nails.

Although I'm inclined to believe it would ruin the wet polish when he ejaculates on it.

Sometimes I don't know my own strength

Me: Hi, this is Tessa, who's this?

Him: Umm.. I'm Bob.

Me: Hi Bob, how are ya doing tonight?

Him: Uh.. good I guess.

Me: Just good? We'll have to work on that. Where are you calling from?

Him: Georgia

Me: Georgia? I love Georgia! I was eating a Georgia peach last night.

Him: Oh yeah?

Me: Yeah, her name was Maggie. She was sweet and juicy.

Him: oh, mmm, ooh, oooooh, oooooooooooh...

{{{click}}}

And Now We Dance

I remember once upon a time being a bit amazed by Madonna's Sex book. Back when it came out, the idea of being out of the closet with your kink was outrageous to me.

My how times change.

Nowadays, I've spoken to plenty of submissives and Doms and I've befriended a few Mistresses. You might find this shocking, but I know for a presonal fact that most of them look nothing like the people in this video.

Music Video Codes By VideoCodeZone

A Sniffly, Snuffly, Sneezy Fetish Friday

"Oh dear Operator," I hear you whisper, and I'm touched by the concern in your voice. "You're not sick, are you?"

Save your chicken soup for another day darlings, I'm not sick. Though as much cannot always be said for my callers. Now gather round lovies, and you shall have a story.

Once upon a Fetish Friday, there was a man who called a phone sex line. With charm and skill, The Operator was able to draw from the man, his most secret and treasured sexual fantasy.

"Operator15," said the man, his tone heavy with anticipation "could you, if you can't I understand, but I'd really love if you could manage, possibly, to sneeze for me? I have a sneezing fetish."

Despite her usually implacable demeanor there was a noticeable moment's delay in The Operator's response.

"I'm sorry, did you say sneezing?"

"It's OK if you can't, I know it's weird."

"No! No, no, no, no no dear," The Operator protested a bit too emphatically. "No, I was just thinking it's fortunate you called now, because I've been feeling a bit, um, sneezy today." The Operator grimaced.

"You don't think it's weird?"

"Not at all, as a matter of fact I have one coming on now.. ah.. ahh.. ACHOO!"

There was an awkward silence as both The Operator and the caller realized how bad the faux sneeze sounded.

The Operator was in trouble and she knew it.

Franticly, her eyes scanned the desk before her. There, silently mocking her, were all her Foley props. There were two glasses of water, for keeping her throat moist, and also to simulate a golden showers for those callers who enjoyed them. There was a bottle of lotion to help her simulate sloppy wet sex sounds with her hands and standing next to it, The Operator's electric toothbrush patiently waited to mimic a vibrator.

There was absolutely nothing that could tickle her healthy nostrils to a sneeze. To her dismay, the tops of her door and window frame had been recently dusted and even the hundreds of books lining her office wall, usually a haven for dust bunnies, had just been given "the proper cleaning." 'Damn my mother and her visits' she bitched to herself.

The Operator realize she needed to buy herself some time. Thinking quickly, she asked the question calculated to bring the longest response.

"So tell me, how did you first learn that sneezing turns you on."

Like a man recounting his first time with a woman, he began the story of his sexual sneezing history. As he talked, The Operator did something she'd never done before, she put the phone down as quietly as she could on the padding of her office chair, and quickly slipped out of the room.

The race was on. She only had to make it through the dining room and across the kitchen to get to the pepper mill. She was there within seconds but as she turned back, the bizarre thought occurred to that her that her mother's New York City apartment could probably fit in the space between herself and her office chair. She wondered if she'd taken too long already. With all the speed she could muster (without crashing into things) The Operator dashed back to her office, grabbing a linen napkin from the dining table along the way. As she grabbed the phone, The Operator heard the man still speaking.

Unfortunately, for her, he was asking "are you still there?"

"I'm right here baby."

"You were so quiet, I thought you'd put down the phone or something."

'Oh shit' thought The Operator, 'I need to get him off this topic.'

"Oh, baby, I was just listening to you" she lied, "and touching myself."

There was a gratifying hiss from the other end of the line and The Operator knew she was home free.

"I was just thinking of how my whole torso sort of twitches when I sneeze" she told him as she ground some pepper into the palm of her hand and sniffed it.

"I thought it might feel kind of good to sneeze while I was... while I.... ppffftCHSSSSH!"

The caller moaned loudly in response to an unmistakably genuine sneeze.

The caller spent the next few minutes in orgasmic delight as The Operator repeatedly sniffed, snuffled, snorted, sneezed, and blew her nose into the linen napkin. When at last it was over, he murmured sleepy sweet nothings to his new playmate, promising to call again often.

From the day forward, the little pepper mill proudly took his place between the lotion and the toothbrush, where he lived happily ever after.

To Everything There Is A Twisted Season

Beleive it or not, I've not always been the aural sex expert you see before you today.

I used to have a *real* job. {{{gasp..shudder..swoon}}}

I've been a cocktail waitress, a voice actress (commercials and radio), an office manager , and a corporate trainer specializing in customer service call centers. Throughout much of my twenties, I did two or more of these jobs at any given time.

Normally, the only thime I miss being in a traditional job, is the rare occasion I see my grandmother and feel compelled to lie about my job or risk giving her a stroke.

Fortunately for me, there are plenty of people around who remind me of what I'm not missing. They are fabulously funny people talking about their conventional jobs and I highly recommend checking out their Blogs.

Waiter: has brilliantly witty stories which can be appreciated by anyone whether they've worked in the service industry or not.

Madman: works with a truly disgusting girl whose saga has become an addiction for many.

PeanutButterFilthy: has all the pretty girls flirting with him because he has a funny Blog, and I suspect, because they don't realize it's actually Sid Vicious in his icon and not him. But we won't tell. I'm sure he's every bit the hottie Sid was twenty odd years ago.

Anonymous Me: lives in the ninth circle of hell where takes consumer complaints for a government agency. Poor bastard: funny Blog.

I hope you visit them and enjoy.

Remember When TV Was Where You Went To Escape Reality For Few Hours A Week?

The Learning Channel aired a show called 101 Things Removed From The Human Body. Some jokes just don't need a punch line do they?

Oh, but how could I resist...

I hear VH1 is doing a similar show called Top 100 Wildest Celebrity Insertions.. I don't want to spoil it for you, but I think number one is a gerbil.

Just another Manic Mon.. er, Fetish Friday

Ok, here we go...

Plushies.

Not to be confused with Furries. Plushies, or Plushophiles, are people who love and lust after stuffed animals.

Sigh..

I'm trying to be open minded here people.

Look, it's not you, it's me. I just have a headache today. After all, it's no weirder than having a thing for Tony the Tiger is it? And I made it through the Friday about Furries ok, didn't I?

Did you know there's stuffed animal porn on the internet? There are pictures out there of spunk covered Teddy bears posted

Maybe I could see it, you're sleeping with the Teddy bear anyway, you're in bed, it's in bed... I've had a couple opf sleep-overs that when that way. But some days buddy... it's really hard not to laugh *at* you instead of with you.

Other People's Secrets

Once upon a time, oral sex was kinky. Well, in the past few hundred years anyway.

But since it's always been around, there was always someone on the block who knew about it. So our grandfathers and great-grandfathers heard about this lovely little notion of oral exploration and many undoubtedly thought it sounded like a wonderful idea. The problem was, it's just not polite to ask a nice girl to do anything so ... unsanitary.

Of course, in present days, few men have trouble indicating a desire for a little mouth action, and most women are willing to do it (although, despite what she may say, surveys show only about 30% of women actually enjoy doing it, sorry fellas).

Well, aside from a little disillusionment, that all worked out fine didn't it? But now we've evolved and we have a new secret that no one knows that everyone wants, The Rusty Trombone.

What? You've never heard of The Rusty Trombone? Well, it starts with a bit of fellatio, and while the gal or guy is down there, they slide a wet finger into their partners rectum. The pressure against the prostate provides a more intense orgasm.

And you thougth you hadn't heard of it.

As you can imagine, most men who've heard of this move have been interested in trying it out. How do I know most men want it? Heh.. silly skeptic. Of the calls I get, and those to the thousands of operators I've monitored, easily 90% end up with the gentleman caller either literally, or in fantasy, having his bottom played with. That's no coincidence. Though I will admit, guys who call phone sex lines may not be a representative sample of the population at large. But I'll tell ya, they aren't far from it.

OK, if we accept as fact that it's normal for guys to desire a little anal, along with their oral pleasure, why is it most guys aren't actually getting it? Simple, as with our grandfathers, it's just not polite to ask a girl to do anything so ... unsanitary.

Let me help you out a little here guy. Once we've taken your penis in our mouths, once you've asked us to ingest your bodily discharges, once we've had our noses a scant two inches from the spot, slipping a digit up your bum is really small potatoes. And while we're at it, anything that helps you finish before my jaw aches is a blessing. Capiche?

What did I say?

Me: So baby, tell me, what's your hottest fantasy? What really trips your trigger?

Him: I dunno, anything.

Me: Anything? Really?

Him: yeah, sure.

Me: I know a twelve inch strap-on that says you're lying.

**click**

Oh how perfect!

I won't do this often, but I had to share,

If I were a crayon I'd be:

What Rejected Crayon Are You?

A Fetish Friday ago, in galaxy far far away....

Words can be such wonderfully morphemic things. They grow and evolve over the years until their spelling, their pronunciation, sometimes even their meanings adapt to their environment.

"Furry" is one of those words that has morphed in recent years. No longer simply an adjective describing the tactile surface of a creature or material, Furry is now a noun in the fetish world.

Furries are people who are attracted to and like to imagine themselves as animals who exhibit human features and traits. This can mean anything from cartoon animals with the ability to speak and walk upright to the mascot at your favorite ball game or even the half-man half-beast creatures from Greek mythology. All are prime targets of Furry fascination.

To show what a truly diverse group I'm talking about here, a Furry need not actually be furry. Some fly, some swim, some hop, some are furry, some are not. Some Furries have fins, feathers or scales. Mermaids for example, or Hawk men, or the dolphin from Seaquest DSV.

Furries tend to be big fans of science fiction and fantasy shows and books. Like others in such fandoms, the most diehard fans sometimes get together for conventions where they mingle and on occasion, dress as their favorite furry creature.

I've not spoken with many Furries and I'm not entirely sure what attracts them to the fetish. Perhaps it's the way the fantasy creatures often blend only the best of human intelligence and animal power. Perhaps its the mingling of the wild and the civilized. Or maybe it just began with a crush on Peter Criss that got out of hand. I dunno.

I do know I once thought the dancer who played Mungojerrie in Cats must be really cute under all that make-up... but I don't think that quite qualifies me as a Furry.

One question does pop into mind though. If your thinking about a man who's half horse, does that make it half-beastiality?

Hypocrisies In The Mirror May Be Closer Than They Appear

Surprising as it may seem to the uninitiated, the world of phone sex operators tend to be divided into two distinct categories. The "Do"s and the "Do-not"s.

Now the "Do"s do just about anything. Or rather, they talk about just about everything. While the "Do-not"s, do not. Which is not to say that the "Do-not"s do not do anything, it is only to say that the "Do-not"s do not do everything. I mean, they do not *talk* about everything. But they do about some things. Talk, I mean.

While most “Do”s and “Do not”s live side by side in harmony, there can be some contention between some of them based simply on their different tolerance levels.

Th “Do-not"s don't feel comfortable talking about certain taboo subjects, such as pedophilia, beastiality, incest, or rape. The "Do"s don't mind so much. The "Do"s usually have the attitude that if the "Do Not"s don't want to talk about everything, they, the "Do"s will, and they'll make good money doing it while the “Do not”s are normally happy to let the “Do”s take the calls they don’t want to think about much less hear.

The "Do"s rationalize correctly that fantasy is a healthy thing, and that most people fantasize about things they would never actually do, or even want to do in real life. For instance, some of the most common fantasies are of homosexual encounters. The majority of people have thought about it at one time or another. Does this make the majority of people homosexual? Of course not.

So it is, that a man who has a fantasy of taking a woman by force is no more inclined to act out the fantasy than the woman who masturbates while imagining herself being dragged into a dark alley.

One fallacious rationalization some "Do"s come up with is the theory that "if the callers are talking about it, they're not doing it. After all, they gave their names and credit card numbers when they called so they wouldn't confess to any crimes if they were real."

This is a nice theory, and for the most part, it's true. But, it's not to say that *no* men ever call phone sex lines to fantasize before commiting a crimes. As far as I know, the link between phone sex and sex crimes has never been studied, but it stands to reason if people can be so bold as to post pictures of their victims online, or try to pick up preteens in chat rooms, then talking about it on the phone might just be small potatoes for these guys.

For the most part though, the "Do"s are reasonable people who are able to accept the incredibly unlikely chance that they might, one day, talk to a truly sick individual who commits atrocities. They realize they are far more likely to be stuck by a car and continue to work, just as they continue to cross the street every day.

While most "Do"s and "Do Not"s get along, realizing that there's no shame in having different tolerance levels, some very vocal "Do not"s and very defensive "Do"s can get into some truly ugly shit flinging.

The crusading "Do not"s can become accusatory about what they perceive as "sick" callers and the operators who talk to them, thus condoning their perverted fantasies. Certain "Do"s get defensive and call them naive or over sensitive and tell them they're in the wrong business.

Since defending children, animals, and innocent victims is such passionate work, sometimes the "Do not"s can get carried away, accusing the "Do"s of contributing to the victimization of children and being no better than child molesters themselves.

This is where it's no longer just a matter of personal tolerance and becomes an example of extreme intolerance.

While I myself don't feel comfortable listening to fantasies of abuse, I also feel uncomfortable seeing people who should be sticking together turning on each other with a sense of moral superiority that is, quite frankly, utterly undeserved.

Whether they realize it or not, there are very few of us who have the fortune to live in a prosperous country who haven’t unwittingly been a party to child victimization by buying products made, mined, or harvested by children who were abused physically, emotionally, and sexually.

If they’ve worn clothes, owned jewelry, talked on a cell phone, bought an oriental rug, eaten produced harvested by migrant workers, or purchased just about anything from a discount department store with a sticker on it that said "Made in (insert your favorite impoverished country with a corrupt government)", they are living in a glass house.

I realize some of you reading this little blog of mine may actually be one of the “Do not”s I’m referring to. This is not intended as a slam. It is an appeal to those of you who seem sensitive to a cause.

If you really want to help abate the victimization of children, you need not worry so much about the fantasies other people talk about and focus on what you yourself do to make actual child abuse profitable.

Information is a wonderful thing, please familiarize yourself with how you can help by boycotting products made with child labor. http://www.stopchildlabor.org/

****steps down from soapbox and folds up to put away until next time***