It's Not All About Sex

If you do nothing but skim the surface, balloon fetishes seem pretty simple. Some guy or gal blows up a balloon until it pops and gets horny. Or does the nasty with a balloon or watches someone else play with a balloon.

And I guess for some balloon fetishists, it really is that simple: the balloon is an object that stimulates or enhances their sexual desire. There's a lot of variety within that description, of course, but it does cut to the chase. I think that my character in Popping Out meets that description pretty well, and maybe even the guy in Eric's Secret.

But for me, and I suspect a lot of us, it isn't nearly so cut and dried. I had a non-sexual relationship with balloons for at least eight years before they began to relate to sexual feelings at all. I will never understand how it started, around the age of three. I do know that I was deathly afraid of balloons popping, and that I felt a sense of loss when they were destroyed. I do know that I loved having balloons around whenever my parents would let me.

And for some reason that I do not understand, I loved having balloons stuffed into my pajamas. Aha, you say, a sexual relationship after all. No, not at all. A sensual relationship, maybe. It just felt good, like a stuffed animal or a particularly warm and fuzzy blanket. I just loved balloons. Even as I was afraid of them.

The sexual feeling for balloons came later, with puberty. Oh, there was probably some anticipation of that transformation earlier. After all, I was a boy, and things that get held against a boy's penis, especially with any amount of pressure, tend to cause an erection.

That's not necessarily a sexual response, mind you; often it's just the body protecting a vital reproductive organ from loss of blood flow. But your mind treats protective erections and erections from sexual arousal pretty much identically, and so the connection was made.

But discovering my sexual feelings for balloons did not take away the non-sexual feelings, and even decades later, as a middle-aged man, balloons in various circumstances can bring on waves of varied—and sometimes conflicting—emotional and even visceral responses.

I still love just having balloons around. At a former job, I decorated my office with them (we were in the entertainment business—such quirks were tolerated). Now I decorate my house with them in the winter. They oxidize in the summer, and I don't like oxidized balloons, even though when I was little, I kept them until they were oxidized and nearly flat. See? It's complicated.

I still like to cuddle with balloons, although I don't get much opportunity these days. Some of the cuddling leads to sexual activity, but a surprising amount of it does not.

And where popping balloons is concerned, things get even more complicated. I pop balloons now, something I never, ever did until I was in my teens. I can even do it without earplugs, in most circumstances.

But when I'm around someone else who has a balloon, I get a sudden flight response, and I want to get away as quickly as possible. I don't like being around popping balloons if I'm not in control of the situation.

And yet, watching a lovely lady do something that might pop a balloon is sexually arousing for me. So there's where the conflicting feeling come in. I really want to get away from the balloon, and I really want to stick around and watch the lovely lady pop the balloon.

Provided she's popping it the right way. If she's going after balloons with a pin, forget it, I'll run away as fast as I can. If she's sitting on it, I'll stay. If she's blowing it up until it pops...well, I don't know what I'll do because it scares the crap out of me and it turns me on. Conflicted!

I'm sure that there are a lot of stories out there just like mine—not in the details, you understand, but in the general sense that their feelings for balloons are not simply sexual.

Not, in fact, anything simple at all.

Update on Writings

I'm still not sure how the character in my new story, a phobic female non-popper who never throws away her balloons, makes the transition to being a popper. Usually this is the kind of thing I like to know before I start writing an actual manuscript. But somehow I just decided that I needed to write, to get to know the young lady before I put her through, well, whatever is going to change her mind and turn her life in a different direction.

So far, about a thousand words in, I still have no idea. But I think I know the character pretty well, so once I've reviewed a few ideas about how such a conversion might take place, I'll know which ones are not credible for her, and which are. With luck, one will stand out as being just right for her. I welcome any suggestions from those who have made the transition.

On the non-fiction front, I haven't gotten as many responses to my requests for research material as I had hoped, and I think I'm going to have to be a little more aggressive in going after information. Don't worry, I won't bite. But I will be asking people I know online (and find online) in a more direct manner as time goes on.

Meanwhile, I've decided that I am going to turn the one book into two books. The first will be a personal perspective on balloon fetishism, out of my own experiences and what I have observed over the past five decades that I have had these strong feelings for balloons. Why? Because I feel the need to get something out soon, to counter some misinformation that's already out there, and more that I expect in the near future (I won't go into detail about that—I just want some facts on our side).

And I don't want to give the second book, with real stories from real fetishists to show the depth and breadth of these feeling, short-shrift. I don't want to feel rushed to get something to press and find that I have left important aspects out, or misinterpreted what I've read online without getting the whole story.

So that's where I am now. I'll keep everyone up to date.

Thinking About My Next Story

I'm starting a new short story, and I think this one is going to be about a non-popper who becomes a popper. Not venturing too far out of my own experience yet, but give me time!

My conversion experiences happened in my late teens, only about five years after my first sexual experience with balloons. It kind of started with the TV show Wonderama (if you're too young to remember Wonderama, try to find reference to the "Balloon Bottom Relay" on the Internet; you will not find any footage, which is just as well because all the participants were underage. But then, at the time, so was I).

Then a girl that I lusted over told me that she like to pop balloons by sitting on them. At first I was repelled by the thought, but since I wasn't repelled by the girl I started to have fantasies about her butt in such hard contact with a balloon, and my fetish took a very different direction after that.

But I think I'm leaning toward an adult conversion in this next story. I want to make sure I set up the character's fetish in such a way that the conversion is believable even after all his or her time being a non-popper (haven't decided if the main character is male or female yet).

That will probably involve a lot of time trying to recapture the way I felt before I was excited by balloons popping. I don't think that will be too hard; I still enjoy non-popping play, and I like to keep balloons around for a long time, as I've mentioned here before.

As to the actual conversion event, that will probably involve a lot of fantasizing. It's a tough job, but it's got to be done.

An Open Letter About Globophilia and Pedophilia

I have edited this post in response to actions by the party about whom I originally wrote it. But I have retained the following paragraphs:

I also would like to ask all my fellow balloon lovers to make sure they are above reproach. Though I would like to think I didn't need to say this, it harms all of us when a balloon fetishist posts pictures of minors—no matter how innocent the picture itself—with balloons, or makes inappropriate comments on pictures and videos, or dares minor children to perform acts with balloons to satisfy their own desires.

And it's not enough to refrain from those behaviors. We need to call those who make us look bad to the carpet as well, as publicly as possible, as adamantly as the behavior demands.

We are already handicapped by the fact that the object of our desire is perceived as a child's toy (see my take here on that subject, among others). We have to separate our sexual interest in balloons from anything connected with children.

Otherwise, the haters of the world will win, and instead of seeing documentaries about men in the woods doing blow-to-pops, or men in their bedrooms stuffing balloons up their shirts, we may start seeing alarmist reports about balloon fetishists molesting children.

And at that point, the truth won' t matter even one little bit.

Please fight the good fight!

Perspectives

I'm writing a short story, and unlike the main male character in my novel, this gentleman has a different kind of balloon fetish, a different kind of history, and a different kind of life from mine. So I have to let myself get into his head a little and imagine what it would be like to feel the way he feels.

In some ways it's not as hard as I thought it would be, but then this character isn't so distant from me in interests; it's not as if he is turned on by things I hate. It's more that he would probably hate some of the things that turn me on. It's more a matter of restraint on my part, I think. (Notice I haven't actually told you what his interests are. I'm keeping it as a surprise. Besides, I might end up changing some of it before I finish the story.)

But it did get me thinking about two things. First, when I get around to writing a story about a character whose interests deviate from mine a lot, will I be up to the task? Will it ring hollow because I don't personally get turned on in the same way? Or can I use my own experience with what turns me on, combine it with what I've read from other balloon fetishists, and create something convincing and enjoyable?

Second, am I really in any better position to understand my fellow fetishists than anyone else out there? As I've said, there is so much variety, and even one of my characters in the book expressed disdain for a popping method that she, personally, didn't like.

As to the first question, I don't think I'll know the answer until I try. I may discover, by the end of the first story I do that's far outside my own likes, that I can immediately detect my utter lack of identification with it, and toss the story out in favor of something I know much better. Or, maybe it will look okay to me and my readers will tell me I'm full of it (or at least full of myself).

The thing to do, I think is to dive right in a do a story where I don't identify with the interests of any of the characters involved and see what comes out. Maybe the story after the one I'm doing.

Now, as far as the second question goes, I think the answer is yes. Not only because I have a balloon fetish, but because, as a writer, I've had to put myself in the minds of so many characters. In fact, I think any fiction writer with an open mind who's willing to take the time to read the forums (and ignore the mainstream media) might do pretty well at understanding us.

Unfortunately, there have already been a few writers who took a stab at it without making the effort to understand. The only saving grace is that hardly anyone has read their work.

But then, I don't write balloon fetish stories to make a lot of money; the hourly pay is lousy. And I don't write to convince the masses, for I don't expect them to understand. But there are definitely intangible rewards. Even when I have to give my stories away, it feels good to know that there are people out there who, even if their fetishes are not exactly like mine, still understand the basic gist of what I'm writing about.

And that makes it worth the time and effort.

My New Year's Balloons

I finally took my New Year's balloons down, two and a half months into the year. In my house in the winter, good-quality balloons will stay shiny and firm enough to be nice to look at for several months. But when the spring comes and we start to open the windows to let in the fresh air, the balloons soon oxidize and lose that lovely shine.

We are still several weeks from that point, but I live in a house with children and don't get much privacy. So I took advantage of an empty house to have some fun with them while I had the chance.

The balloons were Qualatex jewels, and when they have been inflated for that long, the rubber is a little stiff, so they are not so good for sit-popping. But I also like to stuff balloons in my clothing, and they were still very nice for that.

I don't like oxidized balloons, so even though I was sad to not have the balloons hanging in my room anymore, I was glad I had some fun with them before they started to fade. This is different from many others who actually prefer oxidized balloons, or don't care one way or the other. Each of us has very specific likes and dislikes when it comes to balloons.

For example, a lot of people who like to pop balloons probably wouldn't keep them around so long. But I like to have balloons around to look at, and I like non-popping play, so I'm not always in a hurry to pop my balloons. Even balloons I've blown up specifically to play with sometimes end up in my closet for a time until I am in the mood (and have the opportunity) to pop them.

It's a good thing my wife understands.

Seen On Twitter

I post and follow on Twitter, but not very often. It started as a way to promote my book, and that score it has been spectacularly unsuccessful. But I haven't deleted my Twitter account because it does add some dimension to the research for my new book.

I keep a search going for the words "balloon fetish." Not so much to find other fetishists (Facebook, it turns out, is much more fruitful for that), but to see what people are saying about balloon fetishes. Mostly, I see very little posting by actual fetishists; what I mostly see is promotional posts by balloon fetish sites, and posts by people who have recently watched either Strange Sex or National Geographic's Taboo.

And the reactions are usually not positive. Now, as an indicator of how the general public feels watching a segment about balloon fetishism (albeit a narrow and misleading one, in both cases), tweets are probably not very helpful. When you consider who tweets, and what they normally tweet about, you might expect to get more "I just saw something really weird" posts than "I just saw this and found it very interesting" or "I was watching this and I really didn't have much of a reaction to it" posts.

Still, it's disturbing to see so many posters responding to these documentaries with LOLs and WTFs. And for a while I tried to set them straight, sending a link to my short, but more reasoned page on the subject on my book's site. But I realized that it was just a knee-jerk reaction on my part. No one who does posts like that is going to change his or her mind because a real fetishist tweets something to them. Maybe if one of their own friends came out to them as a fetishist. Or maybe not.

It makes people feel secure and more powerful socially to reject something that hints at "otherness." Especially young adults, from whom most of these posts seem to come. We just have to accept the fact that our sexual oddities cause discomfort to most of those who don't share them.

Of course, I'm sure that any of my gay and lesbian friends could have told me that.

Taking Over

I have been asked by my long-time correspondent Triple Outcast to take over Globophilia, as he is deleting his Google account and didn't want to see the URL go to waste. I will need to sort out for myself which of my writings should be in my author's blog, and which should be in this one, and I hope that I won't be neglectful as I take this over.

Thanks to T.O. for handing this over to me. I hope he made the right decision.

Aaargh!

It won't be the first time that balloon fetishism has been presented on national television. I know of at least two other segments, the most recent on Strange Sex. But when National Geographic does something, you expect a nice, straightforward, factual account.

But if the preview on NG's YouTube channel is any indication, the upcoming episode of "Taboo" will be the most sensationalized, and misleading, portrayal of balloon fetishism I've yet seen.

The preview features Dave from Arkansas, who doesn't pop his balloons or, according to Dave, have sex with them. I don't know if I'd even categorize that as "fetish," but who am I to split hairs. The fact is, I've managed to find out a bit more about Dave than that little clip; he has posted and commented on YouTube in the past.

He has strong feelings about popping balloons, but he comes across in his YouTube persona as a pretty nice guy, and no stranger than many other people I see on the Internet. In fact, a whole lot less strange than some.

But at the hands of the folks at National Geographic, he comes across as really, really creepy. Even the music they edit into the end of the segment makes him seem completely bizarre. This is just sensationalist crap, and unworthy of anything that bears the National Geographic name.

I am swayed toward the view expressed by Tim Popper in the afterword of his novel. He talks about there not really being a single balloon fetish, but a huge variety of fetishes that happen to involve balloons. And the more I see other balloon lovers talk about their particular likes and dislikes, the more I think that this is true.

Dave, as unfairly portrayed in this hideous video, does not represent the panoply of balloon fetishes. But then, no single one of us could. It's bad enough that people who know nothing about us write term papers and magazine articles. But to use the most blatant tricks of the motion picture trade to make us all look truly insane is beneath contempt.

And it makes me cringe even more to hear the term "looner."

A Balloon Fetish Book

There is a now a novel featuring two balloon fetishists as the main characters. It is entitled "Blowing It!" and you can read more about it at this blog.

I wouldn't say that this book represents globophilia coming into the mainstream, but it is an interesting turn of events, and probably one that was inevitable. After all, there have been many balloon stories published on the 'Net over the years, and there was one guy (I assume a guy, though the author is just JC Fetish) who did a balloon fetish chapter in something called the "Book of Fetishes" (although I found his understanding of balloon fetishes, and the origins of fetishes in general, profoundly lacking).

This book was written pseudonymously, by someone who calls himself Tim Popper (Timid Popper in the forums where he, occasionally, posts). It's not a long book at 132 pages, but it seems to be just long enough for the story. I think it's worth a look.

If you like it, do the author a favor and rate it on Amazon or at least post a comment in his blog. Being an author, especially in a narrow niche like this one, can be really lonely. It's like sending your baby out into the world and holding your breath to see what the world thinks.

Even if you don't like it, give him some feedback. Maybe he'll write more.

(And by the way, I've noticed that none of you has commented on this blog either. What does a guy have to do, post something really insulting? Just sayin'!)

Balloons In Public

Seeing balloons in public places can present several problems for this globophile, although not the problems you might expect. No, I do not get a hard-on when I see balloons tied to the antennae of cars in a sales lot. I don't even get a hard-on when I see a pretty girl blowing up a balloon to decorate a store. Not even when I saw my lovely wife sit on a balloon and pop it for the first time ever while playing a game at a picnic.

Now, I did get a hard-on later, in bed with her, thinking about her sitting on the balloon, but not at the time. I can't honestly call it monumental self-control; the situation just seems to sort itself out in the moment. Were I lucky enough to watch, say, some exotic dancer doing all kinds of intimate play with balloons during an adult show, my restraint might go all to hell. But I haven't been lucky enough to test that theory yet.

No, revealing my sexual interest in balloons is not the big problem with encountering balloons in public places, but there are a few uncomfortable aspects.

First, although I am turned on by balloons getting popped, I am also afraid of it, and embarrassed at the prospect of revealing my fear. Oddly, it is not the odd unexpected pop that is likely to cause that problem—I've gotten past that many times without too much trouble—but the anticipation of a pop, the build up of tension where I start to show just how cowardly I can be. While a balloon is being blown up close to me, or when someone is handling a balloon roughly or getting it too close to something sharp or hot. If I see it coming, I'm a mess.

And what's really disturbing to me is that it's the same tension that, under the right circumstances, can be one of my biggest turn-ons. Not the hot or sharp objects, mind you, but the overinflation or the bouncing around on a balloon to make it pop. But if I can't control the situation, with some kind of hearing protection or a chance to keep my distance or beat a hasty retreat without embarrassment, then I can actually break out in a sweat over the threat of a balloon popping.

Conversely, if I come across a situation where a lot of balloons are being popped, like someone cleaning up decorations at the end of a party or store sale, using pushpins or scissors, I usually (although it's rare that I am present for such an event) don't feel afraid. But I do feel very disappointed at the waste, and I am not comfortable with staying around to watch.

But, truthfully, although those are the situations I think most about, I encounter balloons much more often in situations where there is little chance of any of them popping. Then some of my other, less sexual and more emotional, feelings start to kick in.

Take the situation of balloons tied to cars. I want them. I want to steal them all before they get ruined by the sun or pop on the hot roof of the car or just got destroyed without appreciation at the end of the day by some salesman with scissors. I feel they same way about all kinds of balloon decorations when I see them; I just want to have them and play with them and pop them in a way that has meaning to me.

If I see that a store has balloons that are imprinted with their logo, I want to get some uninflated ones for later play. I was much braver about asking for this when I was young and single. Actually, I was pretty brave about asking for inflated balloons to rescue them from destruction in my youth as well. Come to think of it, I was also lucky enough to own a van to bring them home in then, too.

Occasionally, I see balloons in some kind of contact with a pretty woman, and it makes me crave some sexual balloon activity, not with that particular woman, but with my own wife. But, unfortunately, there is little opportunity for such play in our house now, and so the craving goes unfulfilled most of the time.

Which brings on that strange psychological phenomenon, where you start thinking you are just being surrounded by the one thing that is on your mind the most. After one encounter with a pretty woman recently, who had balloons floating in her area at a hair salon in such a way that she would brush against them a lot, with her butt, when she was working on a client, I suddenly seemed to see balloons everywhere I looked, in stores, in car lots that don't often have them, at the local church bake sale. And it just makes me want to have my kind of fun with balloons all the more.

Unfortunately, it doesn't increase the actual chances that such fun will, in fact, happen.

Hoarding Balloons

I know this isn't true of all globophiles, but I have a tendency to keep buying balloons even though I have more than I can possible use, especially given that I live with wife and kids and have very little private time to indulge my fetish. I seem to have gotten over this to some extent in recent years, although I still find myself veering off to the party section at Wal-Mart when I shop there to see what they have in the way of balloons.

(The answer, if you're curious, is that they have 9- and 12-inch balloons, which are not horrible but not the best either; some are in bags of 72 and really quite reasonably priced. But I digress.)

I've managed not to buy too many balloons lately, but I still have a rather large stash in my nightstand drawer. Some are relatively recent purchases, from about a year and a half ago when I had the good fortune to be in a large city with a Qualatex Master Distributor. I bought a bag of 100 11-inch jewels and a bag of 50 16-inch jewels. These are for decorating and special occasions.

But I still had about a hundred balloons left that were beginning to get a little old and seemed like they might be kind of unreliable. So I made a promise to myself that, over the course of the current year, I would blow those balloons up and pop them.

You see, I can't just throw them away. It just doesn't feel right. Can't give them away, either. So for the past few months I have been making sure that I blow up and pop at least three balloons every week. It's not as easy as it sounds; I have very little privacy (from my kids; my wife is fine with it).

There was a time when I had a couple of thousand uninflated balloons in my possession. It made some sense before I had children, because I could blow up a hundred or more at a time for play and I would use them up in a reasonable amount of time. But once I became a Dad, the chances for that kind of play just fell by the wayside. But I kept accumulating balloons.

It took me about ten years, including a couple of moves, one across country, to pare my balloon hoard down to the size it is now. I'm surprised that some of the balloons can still be inflated with relative safely. I have some 36-inch balloons that are at least 15 years old, and they have been find so far (obviously, I don't manage to blow up anything that size three times a week; those get used about once a year). I have some white balloons that go back even farther, and I've blown those up, bounced around on them, and actually found them hard to pop.

Pretty much all the old balloons that still hold up are made by Qualatex. I haven't been so lucky with other brands even after just a few years. Once my varied stash has been used up, the remaining balloons will be all Qualatex. I won't try to use those up quickly, but I won't keep them around for ten years, either.

Maybe I'll be able to do something more spectacular when the kids have left home.

If I'm still up to it.

New-philes and True-philes

Now, I'm not trying to get into an argument about "real" fetishists, so don't get your panties in a bunch (unless you're into that, and then I say have fun). But there is a difference between someone who grew up with a fetish and someone who acquired it later in life.

I'm not saying that one is better than the other, or that somehow anyone who didn't attach themselves to their fetish object early in life doesn't really count. But I am saying that those whose philia is a result of childhood experiences will experience the fetish object differently than someone who came upon the fetish from adult experimentation.

For one thing, I think that lifelong Globophiles are less likely to have multiple fetishes, and further are more likely to have a fairly narrow range of what they find stimulating within the context of balloon activities. To use myself as an example, I think that my attachment to balloons first formed because I was afraid of balloons and horrified at losing them to popping. I formed a physical attachment to the way they felt against my skin, and spent a lot of time in contact with them. This all started before I can remember.

When I reached puberty, that physical contact got attached to sexual arousal, and I started to connect balloons and girls, getting a strong desire to see girls in intimate contact with balloons. Oddly, in my teens, I connected the close physical contact with watching girls sitting on balloons and popping them, and it became the main focus of my arousal. This was before I could tolerate popping balloons myself, but it got me thinking about it.

It wasn't until I was in my twenties that I started popping balloons, first experimenting with pins and such (just to get past the fear) but quickly moving to more intimate ways of popping them. Now, this sounds like a lot of changes, but after more than 50 years, my relationship with balloons really is narrowed to close contact (more watching women in close contact) and popping by close contact.

I also like blow-to-pop (by mouth), although I can't myself, and to tell the truth I've never understood why I like it. I find it arousing, but at the same time I feel like a chance for that intimate contact has been wasted.

My interest in balloons has not branched out to popping with pins, cigarettes, feet, fire, heat, overinflation by machine, lasers, or orange oil. I like to watch non-popping play, but somehow find it less satisfying without the pop, like sex without the orgasm. On the other hand, my in-person experiences with balloons rarely involve popping because my wife doesn't like to pop balloons.

I also haven't branched out to vinyl, latex clothing, or mylars, much less S&M, B&D, shoes, leather, furries, or any one of the other uncountable fetishes I've heard of. I'm not even that much into lingerie. For someone with sexual feelings toward an inanimate object, I really am not all that interested in experimentation.

And I get the feeling that there are a lot of people out there just like me. I don't mean people that have the same narrow set of interests—although that's certainly possible. I'm talking about people who have their own set of narrow interests. Like the poor souls who comment on YouTube videos of young ladies blowing up balloons: "Please pop with bare feet." They may gravitate toward all kind of balloons videos, but only in the hopes of seeing those uncovered feet pressing themselves firmly into the inflated latex until the inevitable, satisfying bang. It's what really turns them on. And it does absolutely nothing for me.

If you're one of those who's new to sex play with balloons, you probably try all kinds of different things, and while some turn you on more than others, I'll wager that what really get you going is the variety, the chance to do something different, and maybe even the chance to feel a little naughty doing something outside what's considered normal.

Maybe that's a fetish in itself, being sexually aroused by novelty. I wonder if it has a name. I'd love to hear some thoughts on this.

And They Call Me Strange

When I go out on the Internet, looking for conversations about balloon fetishism, I see a lot of porn sites trying to cash in on us, a few reasonable articles, and more than a few comments like, "That's really messed up," or "you people are sick."

I don't expect anyone who does not have the fetish, or even a fetish (or at least one they will recognize as such) to understand, but it seems that an awful lot of venom is reserved for people like me who get turned on by balloons, as opposed to "mainstream" fetishes like BDSM and spanking and latex and even furry fetishism. (Does that one have its own term, equivalent to globophilia? It seems like it's every bit as common.)

I've even seen some of these fetishes used as subject matter on prime time network television, particularly in episodes of CSI: Crime Scene Investigation. A dominatrix even appeared in multiple episodes as a very human and sympathetic character. In the same series (which does, after all, take place in Las Vegas), I have seen furries and infantilism and even fetishes for obese girls. I remember an episode of Picket Fences where the priest turned out to have a shoe fetish.

But the only references I have seen to balloon fetishes are in factual (if incompletely so) television, as with the series Strange Sex.

And yet our is such a harmless fetish! Maybe it's because people associate balloons with children, and so associate us with pedophiles. We are not pedophiles. The only connection between globophilia and childhood is that the roots of it, for most of us, go back way before puberty. But the sexual interest is very much an adult interest. And in case you hadn't noticed, adults play with balloons, too.

Maybe it's because we can get turned on by something that other people do without there being any sexual intent. Maybe the idea that, if you happen to be playing a balloon popping game at a party or on a game show or on a cruise that someone watching you might be getting hot because of it.

But we do things all the time that might be turning someone on. The clothes we wear—good grief, the shoes—any idea how common foot and shoe fetishes are? Men get turned on looking at attractive women all the time, and vice versa. What of it? It's not what we think about, or what makes us feel horny that counts. It's what we do about it. It's how we act.

And that is a matter of personal character. Not a matter of what one's particular turn-on is.

Not For Me To Say

I don't consider it my place to explain what globophilia is, or what it is not. I can describe what my particular brand of globophilia involves, what it makes me think, and how it makes me feel, to the best of my ability.

But it is a widely varied beast, this fetish, this attraction to a rubber bag filled with air. If you read other writers on the topic (yes, I'm not the only one, much to my own surprise), they will tell you about the fetish with some confidence, even as they oversimplify.

People with a balloon fetish, they will tell you, are called "looners." Well, some are, and bloggers and magazine writers and porn sites have picked up on the term. I can't stand it. It's flippant and silly and makes us sound crazy. Having strong sexual feeling about balloons may, in itself, be a bit off-kilter. But I assure you I am quite sane. And I am not a "looner." I am a globophile.

The bloggers will tell you that the globophiles come down to two types: poppers and non-poppers, the first getting off of balloons popping and the second getting off on balloons without popping them, and that any variations are just degrees along this continuum. Again, a vast oversimplification. It's kind of like saying that, in politics, there are liberals and conservatives, and everyone falls somewhere on the line between the two.

But as with most things in life, it's not nearly that simple. I'm what might be called a popper. I pop balloons, and I love to watch women pop balloons. But only if they pop the balloons in certain ways. I like to watch women blow up balloons until they pop. I like to watch them sit on them or squeeze them. But I really feel disappointed if a woman pops a balloon by stepping on it or sticking it with a pin or with her fingernails. And I absolutely loathe popping a balloon with a lighter or a cigarette.

And, by the way, popping balloons also scares the crap out of me. And I like to watch women do things that don't involve popping balloons, too, like cuddle them next the their breasts, or just blow them up and tie them, or stuff them into their clothing, or sit on them without popping them (which is entirely possible, in case you didn't know that).

Now there are globophiles who like nothing better than pin popping or cigarette popping or bare feet popping, or any number of methods that do nothing for me. And there are those who hate popping because it scares them, and those who hate popping even though it doesn't scare them and those who don't particularly hate popping, but just don't find it sexually gratifying.

And that's just a small taste of the great variety of interests covered by this one term, globophilia, or balloon fetishism, if you prefer. Because people with a sexual interest in toy balloons are, first and foremost, human.

Sex and Balloons

You could say that I have a fetish for toy balloons, although I prefer to say that balloons are my fetish. My sex object. Not my only sex object—I'm quite fond of women, and one in particular that I happen to be married to. But I get turned on by balloons and by watching women do things with balloons.

Weird? Perhaps, but certainly innocuous among sexual attractions, and really quite fun. If you don't "get it," if you don't understand why anyone would get off on a child's toy, then this blog is most likely not for you.

I can describe what I feel, what gets my juices flowing, what I like to do and watch, but I can't explain why any better than anyone else. I didn't wake up one day and say, "I think I'll get down and dirty with some toy balloons today. It happened, over time, gradually working its way into my consciousness as I grew from being a little boy to a teen.

And unless you have a fetish yourself (and admit that your sexual quirks might be, in fact, a fetish), you won't understand. But I didn't write this to educate or convince you. I write to satisfy the curious, communicate with the like-minded, and express my own feeling in a way that will last.

And I won't be offended if you decide to spend your reading time elsewhere. Honest.