A Question For My Readers

As I mentioned in my last post, I am planning a book this coming year which will have a collection of shorter stories. I have developed a list of ideas, already about 13 story ideas. I am sure I will come up with more, and I’m just as sure that some of them will lead nowhere and have to be abandoned, but I expect when I am done I will have something on the order of a dozen stories in the book.

Now, here is my question: some of the stories will be about poppers, and some will be about non-poppers. Some of the non-popper’s stories will have depictions of accidental or unwanted popping. And there may be a couple of stories that involve both popping and not popping (for example, a non-popper who becomes a popper, or has to deal with a popper, or something like that). Should I put some kind of—I can’t think of a better way to put this—warning for each story? At the head of the story or in the table of contents, something that says if there’s popping, and in what context?

This isn’t something I’d normally do in a short story collection, but balloon fetish stories, I think, are taken more personally because of the subject matter. Do you want to know ahead of time what you’ll be running into? Or are you okay just diving in with the knowledge that you may find something that makes you feel uncomfortable?

Of course, it isn’t only the matter of popping or not popping that might make you feel uncomfortable with some of these stories. In short-short form, I feel less constrained, with less of a need to insure a happy ending for every single story, or to depict every balloon fetishist in the most positive light. It’s liberating, and it lets me explore more of the various aspects of this unusual sexual (and emotional) interest.

But you probably won’t like every story in the book, no matter what your preferences. And on that, you have already been forewarned.

A New Story

I know it's been a long time in coming, but I've been busy with other writing projects with, shall we say, a larger potential audience.

But, just in time for a nice Christmas download, I've finally come out with a new erotic short story, Friends With Fetishes. I won't bother to describe it here—it has its own landing page in the tabs above, and there's a link to the right. I hope you'll check it out.

This coming year, I'm going to try something different. No, not another novel. At least I don't think so. No, I'm going to try to write a larger number of short-short stories and publish them as a collection. We'll see how that goes, but I have a lot of interesting ideas that just aren't involved enough to make for five or ten thousand words.

And I just might do what I've threatened for awhile and write a non-fiction book about my balloon fetish. Maybe. I'm not making any promises on that one; we'll see what flows out of my keyboard in the next year or so.

And, in case I don't get a chance to post before then, I hope you all have a Happy New Year filled with whatever kind of kinky balloon fun you most enjoy.

Anticipation

Well, New Year’s Eve is coming, and naturally it has me thinking about balloons. Now, if you expect me to write of a glorious orgy involving hundreds of balloons and steamy, noisy, explosive sex, well, I might just do that. In a work of fiction. The reality is that we’ll be home, and the kids will be home, too, and so at best there will be some quiet balloon cuddling in our bedroom late at night.

And with that prospect ahead, the anticipation is driving me wild. Because it’s the reality, not the fantasy, that I really look forward to. The simple things that my wife allows me to share with her, rather than the flights of fancy that my writer’s imagination can come up with, get my juices flowing, propel me through the holiday season, and make me feel as giddy as I did as a young fetishist contemplating my first balloon encounter. Being married to the right woman can do that to you.

On the other hand, now that I’m thinking about those flights of fancy, maybe I should be making a story out of that.

I’ll consider that idea. After New Year’s Eve. Because right now I would rather relish my real life.

Give and Take

If you’ve been following me for any length of time, you know that I’m married to a woman who does not share my sexual interest in balloons. I am very lucky, because she not only accepts my fetish as part of who I am (and thus part of why she fell in love with me in the first place), but that she will, within certain limits, indulge my fetish from time to time. She’ll also lets me share fantasies with her that she would never play out in real life, and that’s almost as good as indulging me in fact.

But it’s not a free-for-all. It can’t be. My wife has her own needs and desires, among them the need to be loved for herself and not because of what she is willing to do with balloons to satisfy me. It’s not easy to strike a balance between her needs and mine, and it’s not as simple as adding up the numbers, half the sex involving balloons and half of it not. My wife needs and deserves to know that making love to her is all about how she makes me feel, all by herself, without any help from my nearly-lifelong fetish. She needs to know that I am excited by the sight of her, and the way she touches me, and the way I feel when I touch her.

That’s why balloons are only involved in a small percentage of our sexual encounters. This is not a source of frustration for me; I love me wife and I love making love to her, and I don’t feel that anything is missing if there are no balloons in the bedroom. True that there are some things I wish she could do for me. And she tries, and even gets pretty far outside her comfort zone sometimes. And for that I love her even more. But I can only push so far, and I value my marriage too much to push any further.

You see, a fetish can be very powerful. Its seeds usually go back beyond our earliest memories, and so it has been part of our lives, including our sexual feelings, for much longer than we have known our partner. That can be threatening to a relationship. If too many sexual encounters involve the fetish, how does your partner know whether you’re excited by him or her, or only by the object of your fetish?

That’s why communication is so important. You have to give permission, in so many words if necessary, for your partner to say “enough,” that the fetish has been taking over and needs a break. And you have to be willing to honor that, to reconnect with the one you love, one-to-one, without your “other lover” in the room.

Would I give up my balloons if my wife asked me to? That’s a tough one. I don’t think I could ever feel differently about them. But if she wanted to ban them from the bedroom, I think I’d have to say yes, I would. Fortunately, I see no signs of that happening, and after over a quarter-century of marriage we’ve worked it out pretty well.

But it didn’t just happen; we made it turn out this way. Together.