The Fetish of a Non-Boy Scout

A few years ago, I briefly dated a guy with a fetish.  Not feet, not bondage, not cross-dressing or role-playing.  This was a fetish that I hadn’t heard of before, and I’d heard of a lot. 

He was tentative about discussing it but still seemed eager to cut the BS and find out if his predilection would freak me out and send me running—it was, he admitted, a big part of his life.  I told him to hit me with it, so to speak.

“Are you ticklish?” he asked me.

I admitted that I was, but was I unsure how this played into his fetish.  Turns out, that was it.  The whole fetish.  He liked to tickle women during sexual encounters and was highly turned on by it.  He was only interested in continuing to date me if I was ticklish, and the more ticklish the better.  (He himself was not ticklish.) 

The armchair psychologist in me preliminarily diagnosed him with mommy issues, as well as a desire for physical power over women.  This is all very garden-variety stuff as far as issues go.  And tickling as a way to feel powerful?  Hardly abusive.  Although I could see how a safe word might be necessary.

After getting to know more about him and his fixation, I decided I wanted to see what this would be like in action.  I had to admit I was a bit turned on by the idea of being dominated by someone in a new way, albeit one I’d never imagined.   And fortunately for him, I was incredibly ticklish. 

Deciding it was time—and being that I’m not much of a game player—I told him over the phone one day that “tonight’s the night,” and, not surprisingly, he was all for it.  We went out for dinner and drinks, and I asked him if he was as excited as I was.  He said that he was, but he seemed more nervous than anything.

Back at his house, we were getting hot and heavy in his bed.  The tickling hadn’t started yet; I figured he’d know when the time was right.  We had shed most of our clothing and I asked him if he had a condom.  It’s such an obligatory question with a seemingly obvious answer, but he got it wrong.

“I’m not really in the habit of using condoms,” he said. “I’ll have to go look for one.”

There are several things wrong with this statement.

Let’s start with the word “habit.”  To say that you are not in the “habit” implies that you routinely have unprotected sex, and to wear a condom would be a unique experience.  For your current sex partner, this conjures up all the nameless, faceless vaginas you have barebacked it with in the past, as well as whatever cooties they may have gifted you.  Not only does this make having sex with you unattractive, I don’t even want to be on your sheets anymore.

“I’ll have to go look for one” implies that 1) you don’t know if you have one, 2) if you do have one, it’s not even in the nightstand and you will be rummaging around in other areas of the house for it—perhaps your roommate’s nightstand, and 3) that if you find one, the expiration date may or may not have passed.

Without a word, I got up and got dressed.  Before I walked out, I said, “You may want to rethink your position on condoms.”  I mean, it’s possible the guy just got out of a long-term relationship in which unprotected sex was the norm.  Frankly, I don’t remember what his story was.  But he knew he was getting laid that night; he should have been prepared.  I know not all women insist on condoms—especially if they’re on birth control—and that’s their prerogative.  But when there’s even a remote chance that it’s a deal-breaker, why wouldn’t you just pick some up?  Sadly for me, I still don’t know what a tickling fetish looks like in action (except for the videos on my favorite porn website, but we’ll discuss that another day).

I’m far from a prude.  In fact I’d consider myself to be a bit on the adventurous side.  But there’s no reason getting dirty has to leave a ring around your life that won’t scrub off.

If you feel that what started out as a pleasantly kinky story took an unfortunate hard left on you, imagine how I felt.  But I hope you’ll find the stories in this series titillating, thought-provoking, and more often than not, hot. 

Feel free to share your experiences related to this topic in the comments section below.  I’d love to hear what all the fun and filthy folks are doing.  And if you have a story you’d like to see posted, email it to me at SexyVegasTA@aol.com.  You may choose to remain anonymous if you wish.

Stay sexy!

T. A.

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