There are times when I find my sexuality odd. Just occasionally I take a step back and go ‘Wow. You’re really strange.’ I suspect if most of my friends read this blog they’d agree with that assessment. They’d look at at posts about piecing, whipping, pegging or piss drinking and think ‘Yes. You’re pretty damn strange’. Yet for me the strangeness doesn’t correlate with that type of activity. Kinky freaky stuff is just kinky, freaky and fun. Nothing strange about that. What I find strange is the odd reaction I have to some less obviously kinky material.
Take for example the image below. I’m not into horses, boots, humiliation or mistress/servant roleplay. Yet there’s something about the look on her face that pushes buttons deep in my brain. I’ve absolutely no idea why, but for me this is probably the sexiest image I’ve featured in months. I can understand when someone gets hot and bothered over a lady in a skintight catsuit branding a whip. People are supposed to be excited by that. But why does a haughty backward glance in a poor quality photograph leave me feeling distinctly tight in the trouser region? As I said, strange.