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.