During conversation with a female friend a few days ago, I heard myself uttering, that I probably have a self bondage fetish. You know, tying myself up in all kinds of erotically perverted set-ups. Probably?! Where the fuck did “probably” come from?
When I was a kid, I used to do this. Explore my own predicament and raging hornyness, hanging myself inverted from the swing in the back yard by ropes around my legs, pretending to be caught, unable to escape. It just felt so hot, forbidden and horny.
I am a grown man now. From sexual boundaries or inhibitions, I have close to none – or at least, I thought I didn’t – I have adventurous, gorgeous and openminded sexual partners, who know what they are doing, I have an open mind myself, and I am no stranger to exploring my sexuality.
Then where does “probably” fit in the picture?
How come, I am not constantly – or ever – messing around on the floor in a pile of handcuffs, ropes, padlocks, chains, buttplugs, gags and the whole bloody hardware store scattered around me like a wall of perversion?
It suddenly occurred to me, that I may have a few more inhibitions than I am immediately aware of. And they may not necessarily be directly sexually related – but they are undeniably inhibitions.
I may have to think about that.