I met this week’s guest blogger – F. Leonora Solomon – at Eroticon this year, and she’s amazing. Leonora’s an editor and writer who lives in New York City, and she’s published and featured in several anthologies – please do check them out via the links in the piece and on her website. I got the chance to chat with her in between the Eroticon sessions, and when she suggested a guest post about this particular topic I practically squealed with glee. It’s one of those kinks that also makes me go a bit giddy and trembly. Today she’s going to tell you about her suit fetish… 

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Sometimes, like many humans, I have fantasies that are grotesque and dark and weird. And sometimes I have days where I can think of nothing else to write, so with a sense of weary resignation and vague self-disgust, I tell you one of the odder ones. This disgusting fantasy is a not-quite-non-consent story that, I think, is an escalation of the fantasy dinner party. So if you like this kind of thing but the below gives you shudders, you might prefer that story instead.

For the record, it would horrify me if it happened in real life: that’s kind of the point of it. But as a film I play in my mind when I’m masturbating, something about the atmosphere and the attitude makes my cunt twitch.

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On an average day, I can be turned on by a whole bunch of things. Hot people on the train, dudes who got caught in a rain shower, watching computer programmers… But when I’m on my period, or just coming off it, the list of things that give me that ‘unngh’ feeling – the kick in the gut of lust that I bang on about so much in my book – expands to include a hell of a lot more. Let’s talk period horn…

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It’s pretty rare that someone shares an exact fantasy of mine, right down to every sticky detail. I think the same is true for most of us, which is why those ‘top fantasies’ surveys are usually far too broad to be useful on an individual basis. X per cent of men fantasise about having a threesome – big deal. Who is the threesome with? What happens during it? What’s the atmosphere like? Is the main participant a passive receptacle for the sexual whims of the other two, or are they an active and eager consumer, sampling whatever deviant delights they are offered? Is this threesome in a specific place, or are specific words said? When you get down to the granular detail of a fantasy, it’s incredibly rare to find someone who shares something identical, in every possible respect.

So, when I tell you that I once explained this fantasy to someone, and watched their eyes light up with gleeful enthusiasm, as they told me they had exactly the same desire, I hope you can understand just how rare that was. And how utterly soaked I was by the time they’d finished explaining exactly why they liked it too.

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I’m pretty obnoxious and annoying sometimes. I can be far too loud in some situations, and far too quiet in others. Sometimes I sit nervously in a corner checking my phone because I’m too shy to introduce myself. At other times, I drink a couple of pints in rapid succession to calm my nerves and end up saying things I wouldn’t say if I was sober. Both of these traits, along with many others, have caused me to miss out on opportunities to get laid. But none more so than one thing: smoking.

I smoke. And I kind of want to add ‘too much’ to that, but realistically smoking at all is usually too much when seen through the eyes of a non-smoker. When I was dating, the sheer number of people who’d write ‘I can’t stand smokers’ on their dating profiles, or tick the boxes that say ‘smoking is a dealbreaker’ means my pool of potential shag buddies was severely limited.

But smoking has also helped me get laid. Not because men see me across a crowded beer garden and go ‘oh look, her who’s too pissed to light the right end: she’s the one for me’, but because for the best part of my formative years, smoking was considered cool.

Which means that I have a really fucked up relationship with smoking and sex.

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