Spring is the season of the objectifist. When bits of skin emerge from the layers of clothing like the first shoots of green. A shoulder here, a calf there, hair pulled back in pony tails that draws your attention to the curve of the jaw or the slope of the neck. Before summer comes along and clouds the mind with its cornucopia of flesh, spring let’s you savor the body for its component parts. Everywhere I go I am seeing the beauty of this fetish.
I have always been an objectifist. I cannot keep solid eye contact without losing myself in the shape and color. I can tell a girl that I have played with by the shape of her labia or the way her hair feels in my hands. I will remember a kiss for the shape it leaves on my lips. Each piece of the body is like a new landscape, an alien planet to be explored and studied with such intensity that the rest of the body falls away. This not a new feeling or fetish for me but the freedom to explore it seems to have dawned on me in the past few months. The confluence of events that brought about this awakening are like the kink itself, it is a series of components that seem simple enough that come together to make a complex and exquisite perversion.
When I was about 9 years old, my best friends sister snuck me a look under her nightgown. It was a brief flash that surrounded that first glimpse of the female anatomy with flannel and isolated the image forever in my mind.
I was 12 when I had my first girlfriend. She was my cousin’s neighbor and we would sit together on the couch under a blanket. I would sneak touches, little explorations of her body with the very tips of my fingers. I would focus all my attention into the very tips of my fingers as they moved over jeans and under shirts, searching for the soft warm flesh underneath.
In my teen years, fucking in cars, the street lights shining in at angles that would accentuate a knee or thigh.
In college, I began to truly appreciate spring. The girls would start wearing shorts and flip-flops. In class I would be surrounded by crossed legs and long slender necks exposed so casually by hair pulled into mess buns held in place by pencils. Soft lips unconsciously bitten as they looked over the textbooks with semi-closed eyes.
Today I am surrounded by a multitude of body parts in various stages of undress and duress. From the sliver of flesh that is exposed between the hem of the skirt and the top of the boot of the woman walking on Michigan Avenue to the gum drop shaped nipple of the of the half-naked pervert at my birthday party, the human body, the female body, is taken into my brain and carved into its component parts and stored in little drawers to be pulled out and toyed with at a later date. There are tied up nipples purple from the tension and exposed and vulnerable cunts and assholes staring up scared and hungry. Yes, I would have to say that this is going to be a very good summer.