I am delighted that fall has come in New York. Like my friend Boymeatwho dances each time it turns to late spring and early summer, I am delighted because one of my historical fetishes becomes common, rather than rare. The fetish? Sweaters.
Boymeat’s fetish is for feet, something everyone who knows him seems to know. He even teaches classes on foot fetishism for Tops- hurting feet, tormenting feet, being sexual with feet. There is a perception in kink circles that all foot fetishists are submissive or Bottoms. This is not the case, and I am grateful that Boymeat is out there flying his particular freak flag.
In the past I had a really intense sweater fetish. I could run my hands along stacks of sweaters at stalls in Peru and feel myself getting wet. Bound in layers of sweaters, I would squirm and moan. When SweaterBondage.com closed their doors, RopeLover.com (my old porn site, now closed) became one of the top places on the internet to get sweater bondage images on the internet. I became the American Queen of Sweater Bondage… it was pretty amazing.
A lot of this was specifically thanks to one custom shoot client of mine who would push my interests and get me going in new directions. Could you bind a girl in layers of sweaters in front of a waterfall? Sure. How about sweater mummification. Absolutely. We surprised this specific client by doing a shoot that was about being bound and buried in sweaters. I enjoyed it so much that my former husband Eros_Wind took pics of me masturbating while in that heap of sweaters, ball gag in my mouth, wrapped in white rope.
During my time with Hunter, we combined sweater fetish with my desire for filthy street punk stuff. On the Sydney docks we found an abandoned sweater. He dared me to try it on, and I did. Far too small. So we pulled out a knife and cut off the collar on the turtleneck and separated it from the body of the sweater. Sliding it over my head, my breasts (in a bra) stuck out over the top, and we pulled the knitted “collar” down over my neck. That night, clad in torn clothing, the life porn was very hot.
But pulling on my sweater today, I realized that I don’t have an outright fetish any more. A fetish, or paraphilia, is a desire for a specific object or activity that gets us turned on, and may be needed or seriously desired for sexual desire to be engaged. Today I really liked my sweater, I feel happy and warm in it- but it does not turn me on. I thought about it, and realized seeing others in sweaters had not turned me on for a while. During my last trip to Ireland, at the Donegal Woolen factory, running my hands over sweaters did have a minor cock jump, but nothing as serious as the past.
This has me sitting with the transitional nature of some fetishes of mine. That they move in and out from hardcore fetishes and desires, into likes, or once in a blue moon, not that big of a deal. When they are fetishes, there can be a consuming nature. Foam/soap suds has been one, tight denim another, sweaters a third. I have had a serious hard-on for vintage hosiery and 80s fashion over the years. Having my hair cut or feet rubbed has made me cum in the past. But not all of them are there any more. Denim still rides hard, but the rest have come down to a slight interest.
Desperation and debilitating obsession has slowly been replaced by ambient joy. I’m not sure how I actually feel about this. The first has also been known as “Passion” in my world. And if I am a life governed and guided by “Passion and Soul” where does that leave me? I find this movement of fetishes disconcerting, because amidst my recent malaise, it makes me wonder whether I am lacking in passion right now. And some days, the answer is yes. I miss my levels of driving and fueled obsession…
And yet passion is beyond obsession. Passion is described bty Dictionary.com as:
- any powerful or compelling emotion or feeling, as love or hate.
strong amorous feeling or desire; love; ardor.
strong sexual desire; lust.
an instance or experience of strong love or sexual desire.
a person toward whom one feels strong love or sexual desire.
We move in and out of things in life. We change. Every 7 years the bulk of the cells in our body have been replaced. Why not desires? Our choices, experiences and lives effect who we are, and thus our sexual desires.