Smell that Latex

My top 10 picks of pool toys I’d like to own (never mind I don’t have a pool) because I find them sexy.  The look, the feel, the smell…it’s not cotton. ~P.

A looner pointed out that these toys are actually vinyl, which I did know, but was afraid vinyl would make people think of smelling the siding on their home.

Why Balloons?

Balloon appeal graph <——click to see what is most appealing to 50 responses of The Looner Questionnaire.  Found here—–>

What is it about balloons that makes some people feel more than just an urge to smile?

Balloons come in all sizes, they are colorful, soft,make noise and have a unique smell.  Balloons stimulate all the senses: touch, sight, scent, hearing and taste.

Wait, taste?  Well, lick or bite a balloon.  That smell has a taste to go with it.

What would you pop the balloons with?!

What would you pop the balloons with?!

This common object–cheap, fragile and easy to obtain–is a source of pleasure to countless numbers of people.  If this confuses you, I completely understand.  After a year of research in multiple degrees of involvement, interviews, and textual reading, I fully understand the interest in balloon fetishism, a community which is exploding in size.  (Pardon the pun, I couldn’t resist.)

The looner community is rather secretive and the only reason is because this fetish somehow is mentally connected to pedophilia in the minds of many people, who are not stimulated by balloons .  Pedophilia is a mental illness that causes sexual attraction to children.  This is not a fetish.  Crimes are committed in the act of pedophilia.  There is no crime in being a looner, and the only negativity is that imposed by ignorant people, not willing to understand what this harmless fetish is truly about.

I need to start thinking of creative titles.  Not that publishers really let you pick your own title, but who knows.  I might get lucky.

Drop me some comments….ideas/thoughts about a looner fetish book~!

I’m a happy popper!  U?


Oiled War

I blew up every balloon I had and then filled an enormous weather balloon using an inflator.    A local TV station friend of mine gave the balloon to me.  Well lent it, to me.  I want to deflate the balloon a little bit at a time until I am snug with the balloons.  I am naked and ready to climb inside the balloon…..

I slipped one travel size baby oil inside the balloon with me.  My secret Master let the balloon deflate slowly.  He liked the look on my face.  It was a cross between ecstasy and fear.  Death by balloons wouldn’t look good on a gravestone.  I guess it would all boil down to this.  Did I at least pop before I died?

The baby oil made the inside of this weather balloon so cozy.  Suddenly I realized, I only get so long in my Bubble World.  Master said nothing, just watching as I explored my round room.   My arms and legs moved freely but the balloons still held me afloat.  I began oiling my body and Master smiled his approval.

I was singing a song of balloon nonsense, just to amuse myself.  It was super slippery inside the balloon and, all the balloons inside the big balloon were pressing again my body.  My nipples became rock hard and I felt warm, light-headed even.  The tightness of the balloons against my skin, like silk, stroking me every time I moved, was like nothing I had ever felt before.  Perhaps the closest I’ll ever come to being in a womb again.

The oil completely coated my body now.  It felt so sensual and sexual.  Master called out, gaining my attention.  I had forgotten he was there.  Bad slave! 

“Touch yourself,” he ordered.  I needed no further encouragement.  My right had slipped between my legs and broke the seal.  I was by far more slippery than the oil.

With-in minutes Master ordered me to come.  Explosions went off in my head and I became weak from pleasure.  As my body spasms, I began breaking the balloons holding me up.   Some I squeezed with my fingers, some I stepped on…I could only break a few.  The slickness made it difficult to hold onto them.  I straddled one, able to keep my balance.  It felt really good and I started to bounce on the balloon.  The weather balloon began to jiggle around and I thought that was sexy and funny.

I wanted to lie down inside my world and feel the balloons get tighter on my body as Master releases air.  My body felt like it was being sensually kissed by each touching balloon.  My skin tingled as I caught my breath again.  There wasn’t much extra air left other than what was inside the balloons.  An idea popped into my head.  I can pop these to give me more air.  I’ll breathe my saved air.

So I began popping balloons again, excited at the thought of releasing my own breath.  The faster I tried to pop the balloons, the more comical I looked.  Master never laughed out-loud and insulted my enjoyment of the oily balloon war.  The more I popped, the more room I had and could stand.

It was down to 1 slave and 5 remaining balloons when Master spoke.  “You are done.  I am ready for you now.”  I looked at his distorted appearance pushed in from the outside.  It strangely excited me more.  I was ready also but there was no quick exit to make myself available to him.  The loudest pop I ever heard deafened me momentarily.  In the flash my balloon world ended and my Master had his hands on my well-oiled body.

So much for borrowing the weather balloon.


%d bloggers like this: