Sploshing – A Whole New Meaning To Getting Porked

sploshingOf all the fetishes I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen quite a few, the thing that still gets me is food fetishes. Well, food and needles, but I really don’t think we want to have a conversation about needles, do we? The piercing and the blood and the accidental ripping when they catch on things (I’ve seen it happen)…

Still reading? Cuz I totally just threw up in my own mouth a little bit there. Let’s move on…

Crissy’s weird fetishes article made me think about some of the things that most of us take for granted every day, and yet still others of us find unbearably erotic. I myself never found pouring honey on my partner to be all that sexy.

  1. Honey is great, in small doses. After about three tablespoons, I imagine I would have lapsed into a diabetic coma.
  2. 99% of my partners have been male. Nothing seems less sexy to me than drizzling warm honey on my partner, going in to lick it off, and getting a back – hair stuck between my teeth. Which is worse: pubic hair, or back hair? I think this should be a topic of conversation. Leave your opinion in the comments section.

I do understand how some people could enjoy it, it just never worked for me. But on the spectrum of “socially acceptable” fetishes, such as tying your partner up with silk scarves or shouting “WHO’S YO DADDY!” during the money – shot, the food fetish is, to me, the only area in which you can really run the gamut.

Sure, you can go with the plain old chocolate – sauce on your partner’s legs, but that’s so 1990’s! This is a whole new century! Welcome to the century of SPLOSHING.

No. Seriously.

Sploshing is a “fringe” fetish, meaning that while it’s an accepted part of the fetish community, it’s not as popular as, say, rope play. What is sploshing, you ask? Well, thanks for asking! It’s about sitting in food, rolling around in food, throwing food, and just generally doing everything you can think of, except eating it. Well, I guess your partner does eat it off of you/ out of you, but the main turn on is feeling is squish around in your bits. So this, my ToyWithMe friends, is officially the decade of Sploshing!

Love Of Flan Squished Between My Thighs

Sploshing can be done with beans, guacamole, cakes, and anything that can get messy. But people, I think the real question here is, how exactly do you prepare your house for this? I mean, let’s say you read this article and you think to yourself, “THANK YOU, Kinky Jew! For so long I thought my deep, penetrating love of flan squished between my thighs was weird and bizarre (it is), but now you have shown me that there is a NAME for folks like me! I must try this at home tonight!” Ok, but do you have to coat your entire house in plastic like you’re reliving a murder scene from Dexter? That seems a little intense, I gotta be honest. Plastic everywhere, someone is wearing a HAZMAT outfit… is it me? I don’t find that hot. Ehh. Maybe it’s me.

Trussed Up Like A Turkey

But alright, let’s say that you have coated your entire house in plastic, you’ve sent the kids off to their friends’ houses tonight, you have a whole supply of cupcakes in your fridge, and you and your partner are ready and raring to go! Do, ummm… do you just take your clothes off and start going to town? What about steaks? Do you think more solid foods count? Is there a set of standards here or something? I had a friend who once let his boyfriend truss him up like a turkey. Is that Sploshing, or just weird? Do you think he got tired and fell asleep in front of a football game after they were done?

I Want To Sit On A Chocolate Cake

This is all relatively new to me. I had heard of this before, but it seems that Sploshing is becoming increasingly popular. It is to the modern Western sexual relationship what oral sex was in the 1960’s: something fairly new and unheard of in your parent’s generation, but with an exciting potential. I mean, on the one hand, I am totally fascinated by this! What the hell DOES it feel like to sit on a chocolate cake? On the other hand, how many women have been told, either by doctors or our friends, “Don’t let any sugar go near your girly bits if you don’t want a raging yeast infection.” Yeah, if you didn’t know that before, you do now. No honey near the honey pot.

You’re welcome.

I’m like a fucking Mother Theresa here, saving vaginas everywhere I go.

A  Jew Sitting In A bowl Of Chicken Soup

And then the Jewish part of me wakes up, looks around and thinks, “What a horrible waste of food! There are people STARVING out there, and you’re shoving apple pie up the hair – pie? What’s next?!” And to be fair, even as a fetishist, there are times when I think, what ever happened to dinner, a movie, a boy giving your his varsity jacket, and making out in the back of his Dodge before he walked you to your door? Did those days ever exist? Have we always been these perverts, constantly looking for our next fringe fetish to keep our appetites going? Are there some people out there who are really happy with dinner, missionary position, and think only about the roses, and never look at the thorns? I wonder some times.

Then, of course, I hang out with my friends, and talk about Sploshing, and wonder: what would a KinkyJew look like, sitting in a bowl of chicken soup? Is that “sexy,” or just catering to the stereotype? And, is it wrong that I’m just a little bit hungry now??

What about you? Does the sight of food ever turn you on? What’s the weirdest sex story you have involved you (possibly a partner) and food? Do you think you could ever get into Sploshing? If you do, will you send me pics? I feel like we should be cool like that by now.



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