"Do you have a fetish?" He asked.
He didn't mean specifically in that moment but rather globally. However, I often tend to take things very literally and very temporally at the same time. Here and now type of thing.
"No." I answered.
I pondered for a moment, sensing his disappointment.
"Well...let me think a bit." I added.
What is a "fetish"?
Pretty much anything that causes sexual arousal, isn't it?. However, I recall an interview once where the psychiatrist defined it as "not being able to get aroused in the absence of that particular thing". In other words, a fetish is not something that arouses in general, but rather the inability to get aroused without it! A subtle difference I guess.
If you consult the Oxford dictionary, the definition of a fetish is rather broad and doesn't at all encompass the psychiatric overview in that interview. I've come to the conclusion over the years that modern things are particularly difficult to define.
"So you like to watch your girlfriend sexually engaged with another man?" I asked an acquaintance long ago.
"Yes." He answered.
"So you are kinky?" I pursued further.
"Well, no, not really." He replied thoughtfully. "I mean I don't have other kinks."
In other words his definition of kinky meant more than one kink. As long as there was only one thing, one fetish, it didn't qualify him as "kinky". I suppose we've set the standards a tad too high for sexual decadence these days. I can only smile at that.
We all have our own way of seeing things.
Not so long ago I made a rather vulgar joke about a Christmas orgy. I wasn't serious. Ah well, only half serious. My younger audience looked at me funny and asked what sort of stuff I got up to in my private life.
Wouldn't you like to know! I thought in amusement.
"Nothing much." I replied politely.
But back to fetishes and what they are. According to my rather wide frame of reference, it's anything from high heels to broad shoulders to smoking after sex.
As much as it can be a physical thing creating that pinch in the stomach and that flash heat through the pelvis, so it can be a series of thoughts. And thoughts are often of the highest fetish calibre.
"Would you actually do all that?" I asked a friend once.
"Probably not. I mean, it's just a fantasy." He answered.
That's odd, I thought. Isn't the point of a fantasy, to realise it?
"Depends on the nature of the fantasy!" He mused, reading my thoughts. "Some shit isn't meant to be realised. Hell! It's probably better to not think it in the first place."
And some fetishes are both thoughtful and practical at the same time. The build up of tension from denial...the incessant tease without promise of release...
Each step I take as I leave my car, my place of safety, hair catching in my mouth, coat slapping against my calves in the cold wind.
Three...two...one...catch me...touch me!