Fetishes

I typically don’t like to talk about what turns me on, because well, it’s supposed to be a secret.  It’s like Superman telling the world about his Kryptonite weakness, where to acquire Kryptonite, and how best to send it to him.

But yesterday, I was at work when I came across this woman who unintentionally hit my weak spot.  We don’t know each other, so I really, really doubt that was her plan.  She wasn’t beautiful or anything…marginally attractive, I guess I’d say, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

I appreciate a good pair of shoes.  A fabulous hairdo draws me in, but the thing that reduces me to jelly is a choker.  Just a black ribbon, tight around the neck, maybe with a small piece of jewelry across the throat.  Divine!  Thank goodness few women wear such accoutrements on a daily basis.  I’d never get any work done!

After she was gone, I started to really consider the issue: why?  Why does that drive me nuts when other articles of clothing do nothing for me?  I thought back to puberty and I that was it.  When the hormones were first starting to rush through the blood stream, my family was at a wild west show review in western Nebraska.  There were saloon girls dancing during one part of the show, and yup!  That’s it.  They all had the ribbon chokers on, and they were all very, very, very cute.  I kept the mental image of them with me for a month!

But it’s interesting that I never developed a fetish for petticoats, or saloon girl costumes, isn’t it?  What gives?

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