My Fetish...

     Soooo…. I’m drawing a blank here. There were a few things that popped into my head, but they all seemed rather deep and depressing to me. Gah, I’ve had enough of that this week. One thing that came to mind was what Gay Pride means to me. Yeah, uh… no. Not going there.

I do love me some Gio.

     Hairy legs. Okay, that got my attention.

     Who knows what it is that turns people on. I mean, where does that come from? My poor brother-in-law has this thing about high heeled shoes. No, not wearing them, silly. He likes women who wear them. It’s his turn-on button. I’m guessing that’s why my sister has so many shoes. Last count was something like seven-hundred-fifty. She has a shoe room! I know for a fact that a good number of those shoes have never seen the floor, only the ceiling.

     Back to the hair-leg thing… I love a nice furry man. Yeah, big surprise there, right? But how did that happen? Who knows what made me that way, its just the way I am. It’s just like I’m gay. Another big reveal, huh? No, but… like… why? Or when?


     I can answer the when part…

     When I was about four years old, that was when. I had an uncle, my Uncle Charles, by marriage I might add, who was probably one of the best looking men I’d ever seen. Even in his later years, he would turn heads. He looked a lot like Tyrone Power. So much so, that people would ask him for autographs. Years later, I was told that he did a Hollywood screen test and did well. Only problem was, he looked too much like Mr. Power.

This looks so much like my Uncle Charles
it's scary!

     Anyway, one hot summer day, a weekend I’m sure, he and my Aunt Evelyn came for lunch. This was before air-conditioning was common place, so it was hotter than blue blazes. Uncle Charles was wearing shorts. I remember that day so vividly. As far as I know, it was the first time that I had ever seen a grown man naked. I’m so glad it was him.

     Now my Aunt Evelyn was a beautiful woman, very gracious, a bit on the formal side, but a joy to be around. My Uncle Charles was the type to always have a smile on his face, would help anyone that needed it and an all-around nice man. Together, they were a stunning couple. I remember photos of them from that era and they really were something to behold.

     I digress… His shorts were blue. He was wearing a white button down shirt. I’m fairly certain that he was wearing sandals, matter-of-fact, I’m sure of it. Being so young, I would just walk up to him and stand between his legs. I remember, stroking his very hairy legs. Yeah, I was petting him. I was enthralled with so much dark fur, the silky feeling of it sliding between my fingers.

     He, my Aunt Evelyn, my mother and another aunt, decided it would be a good day to go down to the lake and go swimming. It was so hot and the house was like an oven. Also, they could drink beer, which my grandmother absolutely forbade in her house.

     That was when I saw my Uncle Charles naked. He and I went into my mother’s bedroom to change. He stripped completely naked, and I think almost posed for me, but that’s a bit iffy. He had a beautiful hairy chest and stomach, a rather full pubic bush too. He wasn’t circumcised, and had very low hanging balls. I’d like to say he was rather averaged size, but to a kid, everything looked bigger. He had a perfect ass, a light dusting of fur, and then there were those very strong, powerful looking, hairy legs. I can be fairly certain in saying that was when I began my thing for hairy men.

     I’ve always been a very visual person. I love black and white photography. I love shadows, shading and bright highlights. Alfred Hitchcock was a genius when it came to that, by the way. I think that is what drew me in, along with the tactile feel of fur. It was the way the hair shaded certain parts, and highlighted them at the same time. The gradation of light to dark with a third sense thrown in, if that makes any sense at all. It’s like the hair defines the musculature of a man.

     To this day, I’m a leg man all the way. I will look at a man’s legs, and then move up. Yeah, nice ass, broad back, nice chest, arms good, and then the eyes. That’s the selling point right there. I’ve got to connect with the eyes. He can have the most perfect, hairy body, but if I look into his eyes and there’s not spark, then it just isn’t going to happen.

     Of course, there is no doubt that my fetish finds its way into my books. Just about every book I’ve written has a hairy man in it somewhere. Mostly main characters, but that is what I find sexy. That is my hot button. Do I have a type? You better believe I do. A dark, swarthy man, covered in fur will make me take a double take every time.

     I gotta say I’m a little bit afraid of going to Italy for this very reason. One of several things may happen. One, I’ll get whiplash. Two, I’ll get arrested. Three, some woman will bash me over the head lusting after her husband, brother or son. Four, I’ll get my ass stomped by some hot hunky Italian man for drooling on him. So you see, as much as I want to go to Italy, I have a few reservations. I may need a leash.

     Of course I’ve had to include some photos of some hot hairy guys. I think I may have to go lay down now…

     Please remember to be kind to others and do one little thing to help someone else this week. Gotta keep racking up those Karma Coins!

     Have a great week, y’all,

     Max