The History of My Balloon Fetish

by Ed "whats that squeeky sound?" Murphy

Certain aspects of my attraction to balloons go back so far in my life that I cannot remember them starting, much less recall any details. I know that from the earliest time I can remember, I loved balloons, hated with an extreme passion them being destroyed in any way (for both reasons of noise and of loss of the balloon), and enjoyed having them near my skin, especially in the bottom half of my stretchy pajamas. At the very latest, this all came to pass before I was four years old.

For perhaps seven years, this was my only relationship to balloons: putting them in my clothing or in my bed, trying to stay close to them as much as possible. And then, when I was about eleven years old, something amazing happened. I had my very first orgasm. With a balloon.

I don't remember why I was doing what I was doing. At that time when I hated popping balloon so much, it was certainly dangerous. But maybe that was part of the excitement. I was in bed naked, with several old, slightly deflated, well-loved little balloons, and I started talking to them...they didnt answer back, but I felt they understood. The balloon didn't pop, but I did! I began relating it to the girls I knew (although how it related to them I had no idea at the time; my sex education was still several years away). I'd even write their names on the balloons (and hide those away from my mother very carefully). Since then, I have matured, no longer do I have to hide my fetish, i am not totally open, totally clear, I even emailed in a picture of myself to an irreverent show about the internet called dotcomedy. I advise all you baloon lovers out there to do they same, release the pressure, before you explode...